hope

No more magic meant both Hope and I would die.

I had to help for Hope’s sake.

The world that had abandoned me to the calificars could burn.

But I would do all I could for Hope.

There were those that would be happy of it.

Happy the magic was leaving.

It would mean less chaos. More control.

But only control for the select few.

Chaos had always helped prevent tyranny.

“They are not going to separate us,” Hope promised. “They need all of our magic and more to close the rift between our world and the Planewalker’s world.”

“A tear?” I whispered. “But that means…”

“Our world leaks into theirs even as theirs leaks into ours,” Hope whispered.

That was why the song dimmed.

Bryan and David.

They were with Hope.

They guarded her. Defended her.

She followed my gaze.

“I broke them,” she whispered.

“No, you fixed them.”

The Planewalker stared at me. “That seemed like a lot of magic. Even for this place.”

The calificar at her side regarded me, and I suppressed a shiver. His uniform was the same as the rest, but the power he exuded warned he was so much more.

Yet Hope did not flinch from him.

“It was,” he said.

I held Hope tighter.

“We can’t,” Hope whispered. “There are good men here.”

“They are calificars.”

“I know,” Hope said. “It took me a while to believe it, too.”

I stared at her.

“They need us, Felicity. The Planewalker has returned.”

I stared at the woman who had no magic singing within her. Hope spoke the truth.