2.

  Azren

  I pried loose the wooden floorboards in my parent’s bedroom with practiced care. Being raised by a former thief had its advantages. The wood groaned softly in protest before yielding, revealing its hidden objects.

  Objects that meant a lot to my mother. A dagger wrapped in darkened leather; Ash’s, my birthfather. Its edge dulled with age but still glinting in the dark. beside it lay his amulet, the stone cold and heavy, etched with a sigil once used to tear open the veil to the Underworld. And then there was the Runestone of Balance.

  I paused.

  The stone glimmered with a soft, ethereal glow, light breathing in and out like a living thing. Artemis had given it to my mother after the war. It was forged in the moment when all the Runestones of Creation had melted together to sever the Mid Realm from the Underworld. To end the Underworld’s reach.

  Removing its main source of magic to survive. The Weave.

  I gently shifted the stone aside. That was not what I wanted. My gaze landed on what I had come for.

  The spellbook from my birthfather.

  Its black binding was weathered and bent, corners softened by time, yet it radiated something unmistakable. An ominous gravity, like a storm held between covers. I lifted it carefully and slid it into my backpack.

  I had promised Raelynn I would show her proof. She won’t like it. I ignored the voice. I’d boasted about my father, Ash, being a powerful magi who had fought the Fiend. She hadn’t believed me and had challenged me to prove it.

  This book was my answer. The spellbook he used. I eased the floorboard back into place as quietly as I could.

  “What’ve you got there, Zuzu?”

  A small voice behind me sent a curse skittering across my tongue. I turned to find Hazel watching me, arms crossed, chin lifted in accusation.

  “Nothing,” I muttered. “And you shouldn’t spy on people.”

  “You’re lying,” she said, marching closer. “I saw you put something in your bag. What was that?”

  Stubborn as stone. Just like Mum.

  “It’s a book,” I grumbled. “Happy?”

  “What kind of book?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “You and your cursed curiosity.”

  Hazel giggled and patted my head, reaching on her tippie toes.

  “Learned it from the best.”

  I sighed and took her by the shoulders, steering her firmly toward the door.

  “Great. Now go do something else. Play with Milo. I don’t care.”

  “No,” she snapped, planting her feet forcefully into the ground. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll tell mum you’re a thief.”

  I groaned.

  “Fine. It’s a spellbook and don’t—”

  She gasped and I clamped a hand over her mouth instantly, bending down.

  “Don’t you dare tell mum. This is our secret, okay? And if you keep it, I’ll show it to you tomorrow,” I whispered. She nodded furiously beneath my palm.

  “Good,” I said, releasing her. “Now go do your chores.”

  She spun on her heel, braid whipping around her pointed ears, copper and wheat catching the light. Big brown eyes fixed on me. She looked so much like our mother.

  “Cross your fingers and swear.”

  I rolled my eyes, but crossed my fingers.

  “I swear.”

  Satisfied, she darted off. I exhaled slowly. That had been too close. Mum forbade us from touching her things. Especially anything that belonged to Ash. And if dad ever found out I was reading my birthfather’s spellbook… he’d lose his mind. He'd always warned me not to dig too deep into magic, afraid I’d lose myself the way my father had.

  I slipped past the kitchen toward the back door when a sudden crash made me jump. Pots clattered to the floor.

  “Hazel!” Mum shouted, equal parts shock and frustration. Milo’s laughter followed. I chuckled under my breath, and escaped outside, letting the forest swallow the sound of scolding.

  The narrow path wound past the gravestones before dipping into the trees. I slowed as I passed my father’s grave. The earth was still hard with frost, though the sun had chased away the snow. Snowdrops bloomed at the base of the weathered stone.

  I brushed my gloved fingers against the cold marker.

  “I’ll help you, dad,” I whispered. “I don’t think mum and Spook are coming for you…”

  My jaw tightened.

  “They didn’t stop caring. Life just… happened. Mum tried, though. She wrote everything down she could find about how to reach the Underworld again. But—”

  “Azren!”

  Spook’s voice carried from the barn. I sighed. Lately, he’d been hovering over me. Dragging me into his line of work, keeping my hands too busy, my mind away from magic. Afraid I’d choose the ‘wrong path’.

  Spook was a kind father to me, but we were too different. I slipped between the trees before he could find me.

  Cold forest air greeted me like a blade, slicing through my clothes and settling deep in my bones. Even though spring was around the corner, winter didn’t want to let go.

  I pulled my cloak tighter, scarf high over my mouth, hood shadowing my rounded ears. The ground cracked beneath my boots as I moved through the pines. Small animals fled. Somewhere, a wolf howled.

  I had lived here my entire life, yet the forest never felt like home. My family loved it. Especially mum; eyes closed, face turned to the wind, remembering her days wandering these woods, hunting, gathering, surviving. She taught me to hunt too.

  I was terrible at it.

  The only weapon I ever mastered was a hand crossbow. Simple, efficient and easy to carry. The forest sloped downward into a shallow valley.

  Our valley.

  The treehouse emerged between the trunks, patched together with old boards and moss. A rope dangled beneath it, swaying gently in the wind.

  I whistled our tune.

  Silence.

  She wasn’t here yet.

  I climbed up anyway. The space inside was barely bigger than a tent. Two woollen blankets lay on the floor. Weathered and old. Carvings lined the wall. Marks we made with our hunting knives. Marks of time and laughter. I set my bag down and smiled at the initials carved beside the door.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  A + R

  We had met nearly eight years ago after I ran away from home because of a fight I had with dad. I’d climbed this tree, furious over nothing and everything. And she’d climbed up after me. Ten years older and impossibly beautiful. Raven hair, violet eyes and the most enchanting smile I had ever seen. She was an elf from the Primordial Lands, or Fae Lands as she called it.

  From the moment she smiled at me, my world shifted. Her father, a scholar trained in the magical arts, had offered to teach me magic soon after we met. Mum had no time left raising the toddlers. I’d accepted instantly. Because it meant more time with Raelynn.

  I turned a page of the spellbook, smiling at the memory. Then her whistle pierced the air. I snapped the book shut, my heart skipping a beat. Purple eyes met mine as Raelynn ducked into the tree house, light spilling in behind her like she carried the sun with her.

  “Long time no see, Zuzu,” she grinned, using the nickname my siblings loved far too much.

  “Please don’t,” I groaned. “Why that one? Call me Az. Or… anything else.”

  “Alright,” she said sweetly, settling beside me in the cramped space. “Azzy.”

  I shot her a look. She laughed, soft and victorious. Her gaze drifted to my lap. Before I could stop her, she snatched the spellbook from my hands.

  “Hey!”

  “What’s this?” she asked, already opening it. “Is this your evidence?”

  Her teasing vanished the moment she read one of the pages.

  “Azren…” she whispered. “Where did you find this?”

  “It belonged to my father,” I said with a shrug that didn’t feel as careless as I wanted it to. She doesn’t like it. The voice in my mind whispered.

  “Spook?!” Her head snapped up. I shook mine.

  “Ash.”

  Her expression shifted instantly into recognition.

  “Right. Your birthfather. The incredibly powerful necromancer you told me about.”

  “He wasn’t…” I stopped myself, frustration prickling. “Never mind. But look at these spells, Rae. I told you he was powerful. We should try some of them. What do you think?”

  She turned another page, brows furrowing. The longer she read, the quieter she became. Her teeth brushed her lower lip; a nervous habit I knew too well. My fingers ached to reach for her, to pull her close, to smooth that tension away.

  I didn’t. It might ruin the friendship. It might not.

  “Az…” she said slowly. “This is—”

  “Dark?” I offered, pushing the voice away to the back of my mind, locking it in an imaginary cage like I’d taught myself.

  She nodded.

  “It’s not like we haven’t practiced darker magic before,” I said quickly. “This isn’t that different.”

  She looked at me then, one eyebrow lifting. Gods, she was beautiful like that; sharp and thoughtful and entirely herself. My heart stumbled.

  “There’s a difference,” she said gently. “Controlling the movements of an animal is not the same as siphoning magic from people.”

  Her eyes flicked back to the page.

  “Or trapping their souls in coins.” She read and looked up again, unsettled.

  “Who would even do that?”

  I shrugged, though something twisted behind my ribs.

  “It’s written by a fiend. Maybe that’s how they trade? Currency, or something.”

  She snapped the book shut, jaw tight.

  “No,” she said firmly. “Not for me. We’re not doing this. You need to put it back where you found it.”

  Something inside me shifted and slid out of alignment. Confusion flared first. Then frustration. My nails dug into my palm as I frowned.

  “Is it really wrong to study the magic our enemies use?” I asked. “To understand it?”

  “It is when you plan to use it,” she replied. “And besides, our enemies are trapped in the Underworld. The war is over. The world is at peace. We don’t need this.”

  She placed the book back in my lap, like it burned her to hold it.

  “I thought you’d be excited,” I said quietly, staring at the cover instead of her. Silence stretched between us, heavy and unfamiliar. Then she rested her hand on my knee.

  “I don’t know what I did wrong,” she said. “I feel like… like I upset you somehow. I’m sorry, Az. Truly.”

  “It’s fine,” I muttered. “You didn’t upset me.”

  That wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t understand my own response, so how could I explain it to her?

  “I just expected a different answer, I think.”

  I had imagined her curiosity mirroring mine. Her excitement, her willingness to explore the Underworld with me, to step closer to the truth I felt pulling at my bones. I hadn’t even told her about my most recent discovery yet.

  “Well,” she said after a moment, forcing a smile, “we could always try that spell we practiced before. The dancing moose was kind of funny last time.”

  I exhaled slowly, packing the strange feeling away somewhere deep and unreachable. I lifted my mouth into a smile she would recognize.

  A lie.

  “Sure,” I said. “Let’s pick a different animal this time.”

  She smiled back, relieved, and we climbed down from the tree house together.

  “Don’t be grumpy, Zuzu,” she said, bumping my shoulder. “I really didn’t mean anything by it.”

  I tugged my scarf higher over my mouth.

  “I’m not grumpy.”

  “‘I’m not grumpy’,” she mocked, exaggerating my scowl before bursting into laughter. She reached up, standing on her toes to ruffle my hair. I grabbed her with one arm and lifted her clean off the ground. She squealed, laughing as she tried—and failed—to escape. When I set her down, she darted away, glancing back with that wicked, teasing look that always meant catch me.

  A tingling heat spread low in my abdomen, my pants suddenly feeling a little too tight around my crotch. I chased after her, the forest swallowing her laughter.

  A sudden scream tore through the woods. We both froze. My gaze snapped toward the sound, dread flooding my veins. I knew that voice. Ice settled in my stomach. My eyes clashed with Raelynn’s through the trees before I chased off.

  “HAZEL!”

  Her name tore out of me as I bolted toward the sound. Branches lashed my face, rocks scraped my boots, pain flaring and vanishing beneath the roar of blood in my ears. In the corner of my vision I caught Raelynn running after me, swift and sure-footed despite the chaos.

  Another voice joined Hazel’s scream. High and terrified.

  “MILO!” I shouted his name. And beneath it all came a sound like the world being torn open. Branches snapped. Trees bent. A howling rush spiralled through the forest, pulling everything toward its heart. I felt it then. A violent tug in my chest.

  Magic.

  Not just the Weave.

  Not just the silver-blue river Artemis had raised into the sky after severing the Underworld. That celestial stream feeding our realm strength and longevity, glowing among the stars at night. This was something else. Something colder.

  A wild, chaotic force threaded with rot and hunger. I skidded to a halt at the centre of the destruction. The sight froze me solid.

  A gaping black pit yawned where the forest floor had been. A screaming void that cracked the air itself. It devoured everything—earth, roots and stones—dragging the world screaming into its throat.

  Hazel clung to a jagged rock at its edge. Her legs were already gone.

  “No,” I breathed. On the ground nearby lay my father’s notebook, pages fluttering wildly, and the Runestone of Balance glowing faintly as it skittered toward the abyss. I lunged, snatching both just before the pull dragged them away, but I’d stepped too close.

  The ground vanished beneath my feet. I cursed and threw myself forward, fingers locking around a tree trunk as the pull yanked at my legs. Raelynn’s eyes grew wide and she grabbed my arm, bracing herself against another tree.

  “Zuzu! Help me!” Hazel sobbed. Her grip was slipping. Without hesitation, I let go of the trunk.

  “Azren!” Raelyn cried.

  The force hurled me across the ground, Raelynn’s arm stretched taut as she fought to hold me, her boots carving trenches in the soil. I slammed to a stop at the pit’s edge.

  “I can’t hold on!” she cried. I ignored her. Hazel was my sister. Ten years old. Too small. Too scared. And I was her big brother. I had to save her. I grabbed Hazel’s arm and pulled.

  Nothing.

  The pit screamed louder, its pull merciless.

  “Milo!” I yelled. “Get mum! Now!”

  Ahead, Milo clung to a tree, sobbing, frozen in terror.

  “Go!” I roared.

  Something in my voice broke through. He tore himself free and ran, fighting the invisible current dragging at him.

  “I don’t want to die!” Hazel cried.

  “You’re not going to,” I lied, teeth clenched as pain tore through my shoulders. My body screamed in protest. I couldn’t hold much longer.

  Spells raced through my mind. Words tangling, slipping away under panic. I looked up at Raelynn. Helpless.

  She was white as snow, arms shaking as she clung to the tree with one hand and my arm with the other. Tears streaking down her face. Refusing to let go. She shook her head once.

  I can’t hold on.

  My gaze dropped to the ground. Dark crystals glittered there, skittering closer to the pit. Shards catching sunlight and breaking it into rainbows.

  My father’s amulet.

  Broken.

  Hazel must have found it. Played with it. And… activated it. With the ley-lines severed… it hadn’t opened a gateway like it used to. It had torn one.

  A broken portal to the Underworld.

  Her fingers began to slip from my grasp.

  “Hazel!” I shouted. I desperately tried to hold on.

  “Zuzu!” she cried, tears streaming down her face. Her hand tore free from mine.

  “No—!”

  For a heartbeat, time fractured. I saw her face. Wide with terror, tears clinging to her lashes. Her arm reached for me as if I could still pull her back.

  Then she was gone.

  The void swallowed her whole.

  The scream cut off.

  Silence slammed into me harder than the pull ever had. I turned to Raelynn. Her eyes were drowning.

  “Don’t you dare let go,” she said, voice breaking. But I already knew. I met her gaze, swallowed… and let go.

  She lunged forward with a sob, grabbing me again as the force seized us both. I pulled her close, burying her face against my neck as the sky above shattered into darkness. My stomach lurched.

  The Mid Realm vanished. Only the void remained.

  And we fell.