Alyson Noel - Horizon

I whirl around to face him, having almost forgotten about his talent for eavesdropping on thoughts. “I thought that was fading?”

“It comes and goes.” He shrugs. “The point is, I’m not giving in without a fight. So why have you given up long before the fight’s even had a chance to begin?” His voice is even, his expression determined. His deep lavender eyes shifting from the deepest violet to the softest lilac.

“So you know.” My tone is resigned, my gaze appraising.

He returns the look with one of his own.

“You’re not buying into their silence. You know they’ll resurface.”

Lita shifts between us, waiting for someone to clue her in to the truth behind our veiled conversation.

“I’m sure this is the calm before the storm. And I’m committed to enjoying a quiet respite for as long as it lasts.” Axel arcs an arm toward Lita and she’s quick to scurry to his side. “I’m prepping, Daire, just like you are. But I’m also indulging in a chance to rest, refuel, and yes, even enjoy myself.” He hugs Lita tightly, kisses the top of her head. “Maybe you should try it sometime. Might do you some good.”

I glance between them. So flushed and satisfied—so caught in the grips of their heady swirl of happiness—who am I to deny them? Besides, I’m pretty sure Axel already knows the grim possibility of things actually working between them. After all he forfeited—first to save me, then to be here with Lita—they deserve every smidgen of joy they can manage. Won’t be long before such things are much harder to come by.

I hook a thumb in the general direction of their bedroom and say, “You call that a quiet respite?” Enjoying the sight of Axel’s pale face flushing red as Lita shoots me a worried look that fades the moment I grin. “Go.” I wave them away, and head for my room. “Frolic. Be free. We’ll catch up tonight. For now, I need to go change. My first client is due any minute.”

DACE

Cree builds a small fire as Leftfoot gestures for me to sit beside it.

I swipe a hand across my brow and shoot him a skeptical look. “Is this really necessary?” I point toward the flames. “It’s triple digits outside. I was enjoying the relief.”

“Sit.” Leftfoot scowls. Chay frowns. And I’m quick to obey. “This is not about your enjoyment,” he says.

“Clearly.” I flash a quick grin, but Leftfoot’s not having it.

“Tell me what you see.” He kneels beside me, ducks his head toward the flames.

“I see a fire, burning logs, wisps of smoke.” I shrug, knowing better than to pretend to see more when I don’t.

“Look deeper. Meditate on the flames for as long as it takes.”

“As long as it takes to what, exactly?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

He settles beside me, humming a familiar childhood tune, as Chay lingers behind, and Cree leans against the far wall.

I stare into the flames. Forcing my breath to slow, my gaze to relax, as I work on ridding myself of all expectation. Despite Leftfoot’s constant reminders that there are no right and wrong images when it comes to scrying, it’s tough to overcome my innate need to please him.

I’ve spent the last six months preparing myself both mentally and physically. Pushing my body to the edge of exhaustion with punishing workouts—pushing my magick to surpass the usual skills—pushing my mind to see more, intuit more, to embrace the absolute oneness of everything in the universe. And though I’ve been on the lookout for signs of transformation, a stirring of the beast that made itself known last New Year’s Eve, there’s been no sign of him.

Until now.

The wood cracks and sizzles.

The flames swirl and dance.

As great whiffs of smoke rise and bend, shrink and expand. Morphing into a replica of the beast that dwells deep within.

I recognize it the instant I see it.

He’s glorious.

Breathtaking.

Fierce and strong.

A creature of stature and grace, with long sharp talons and a crown of white feathers encircling his head—capable of so much more than I’d ever be on my own.

“Talk to me,” Leftfoot says, sensing the shift in my mood.

After giving a detailed description of the beast, Leftfoot nods his approval and motions for Chay to bring me the large, cotton sack he hauled all the way here. The contents rattling as he deposits the bag beside me, I take a moment to give silent thanks for the magick to come, then yank on the drawstring and snake a hand toward the bottom. My fingers butting against a smooth, long object with identical holes on either side, I ease it free of the opening and raise it before me.

Despite knowing I shouldn’t be surprised by what I see, after all, Chay’s a vet, which gives him plenty of access to such things, that doesn’t stop me from gazing upon it in wonder. Up until now, I’d never seen an actual horse skull before.

I flip it over in my hand, as Leftfoot says, “You are guided by Horse—a symbol of freedom, power, and enlightenment. His is a commanding presence. A powerful spirit animal. Teaching us the benefits of patience, kindness, and cooperation. The spirit of the Horse encourages us to awaken our power to endure and reach our full potential. Now it’s time for you to reach yours.”

I lift my gaze to the flames, watching as the image of the beast continues to undulate before me. The sound of Leftfoot’s voice filling the cave. “Set the skull before you, then place your palm over the top of the bag and use your magick to summon the other bones to you.”

I’m quick to obey, first palming a rib bone, then what looks to be the cervical vertebrae.

“After arranging the bones from smallest to largest, place your hands on your knees, palms facing the ceiling, then project the bones into the fire using only your will. And whatever you do, whatever occurs, do not flinch. Do not resist. Stay steady, strong, and unwavering in your focus. Don’t try to control the ceremony. Allow it to unfold as it will.”

I concentrate on the bones, sending them soaring into the flames where, one by one, they explode on contact. The resulting resonance so jarring, so deafening, it takes all of my will not to take cover and bolt for the exit.

The bones splinter and crack. Dissolving into hundreds of jagged pieces that swirl above our heads in three distinct clouds of disparate particles that eventually find their way to the ground where they fall in perfect formation as a heavy silence settles around us.

I look to Leftfoot for guidance. Unsure how to interpret the event. Watching as the old medicine man continues to stare into the flames. “That day at the sweat lodge, you claim to have made your choice based on what you saw during your soul jump. In case you’ve been wondering, I showed you that message for a reason.”

I nod in assent, knowing exactly which message he refers to. Although Leftfoot showed me a lot of things that day, invited me in for an all-access pass into his soul code, there was one message that stood out amongst all the rest.

One that I had to delve deep to see.

One that changed everything.

And though I know the reveal was no accident (nothing Leftfoot does ever is), later, when the plan turned against me—when the darkness inside lodged itself deep and resisted all attempts to expel it—when my eyes turned like Cade’s—when Daire grew first concerned, then afraid—I couldn’t help but wonder why .

Why did he show it to me when he knew all along what I’d choose?

“Sometimes you must venture into the dark to bring forth the light.” I repeat the message he shared with me. Having adopted it as my mantra from the moment it was revealed, the words come easily.