A Harmony of Ages, page 28
“Are you…are you alright?” she asked as panic rose. “Rafe, you need help. You’re hurt. You’re bleeding.”
When he tried to speak, his words slurred, running together. “I’m fine.” His eyes were starting to unfocus, his pupils dilating unevenly. “Just…tired.”
He wasn’t fine. He was badly injured, wounded in multiple places, and her Resonant power told her that his core was completely depleted. The emptiness where his magic should be felt like a void, a hollow space inside him where energy should have flowed. He’d been running on pure determination and adrenaline, pushing his body past its limits. Now that she was safe, now that he knew she was herself again, his last thread of will was snapping.
His head dropped forward, chin touching his chest. His arms fell away from her completely, dropping to his sides.
“Rafe!” Vesper grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. His eyes opened, but they were glassy, unfocused, staring through her rather than at her. “Stay with me. Don’t you dare pass out. Rafe, please!”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. The word was barely audible, slurred almost beyond recognition.
She didn’t know what he was apologising for. For almost dying? For everything that had happened? For not finding her sooner? None of it mattered except keeping him awake and alive.
“Look at me,” she said. “Rafe, look at me. Focus on my voice.”
His eyes tried to focus on her face, but they kept sliding away, unable to lock on to anything. His breathing was getting worse, coming in short gasps now instead of proper breaths. Each one sounded wet, rattling in his chest.
She couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not after everything. Not after he’d crossed a dying city to find her, after he’d refused to give up even when she was lost to the Echo’s control. Not when she’d only just got herself back.
Voices called through the rubble, distant at first but growing closer. Footsteps crunched over broken stone and shattered glass. Vesper’s head snapped up, her body tensing instinctively.
“Over here!” A woman’s voice rang out. It cut through the ambient noise of settling rubble and distant fires. “I’ve got them!”
Then Blair appeared around a pile of rubble, three Praxis agents following close behind her, with Edmund brining up the rear. And then Aldrick emerged from the smoke and rubble his expression falling as he saw her and Rafe huddled amidst the destruction.
“Bloody hell,” Blair cursed. She broke into a run, stones scattering under her boots as she closed the distance between them. “Edmund!”
“Rafe’s hurt,” Vesper said immediately as Blair reached them. “He’s losing consciousness. He’s bleeding badly and I…”
Edmund was already moving. He dropped to his knees beside them without hesitation. His hands went to Rafe’s neck, fingers searching for a pulse. His expression shifted immediately, mouth tightening into a thin line that made Vesper’s stomach drop.
Rafe was dying.
Aldrick helped Blair lower Rafe to the ground as Edmund began working, gathering magic into his palms.
“We need to restart his core,” Edmund said. “I need a mage. Aldrick?”
“Whatever you need,” the mage said. “Name it.”
Vesper stayed close, her hand finding Rafe’s. His fingers were cold, too cold, and they didn’t respond to her grip. She squeezed anyway, willing him to feel it, willing him to know she was there.
“We’re getting you help,” she whispered. Her voice broke on the words. “Just hold on. Please hold on.”
His breathing remained shallow, each inhale barely moving his chest, but he was still breathing.
Edmund’s hands glowed brighter as he worked, drawing magic from Aldrick who knelt beside him with one palm outstretched. The mage’s face was pale, sweat beading on his forehead as Edmund pulled the energy he needed.
“Easy,” Edmund murmured, though Vesper didn’t know if he was talking to Aldrick or Rafe. “Just a little more.”
The magic flowed between them, visible as faint threads of light that wound around Rafe’s chest. Edmund pressed both palms flat against Rafe’s sternum, his jaw clenched with effort.
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then Vesper felt it. A flicker, small and fragile but unmistakably there. Deep inside Rafe’s chest, his magical core sparked to life. She held her breath as it caught and held, terrified that any movement would cause it to go out.
Blue light began to flow outward from his core, spreading through his body. His power filled the hollow spaces inside him, chasing away the terrible emptiness that had threatened to swallow him whole. The awful rattle in his chest eased as magic flooded back into him, restoring what had been drained. She felt his warmth returning as his fingers pressed against her palm, responding to her touch for the first time since he’d collapsed.
He was coming back. Magic was bringing him back.
“You’re going to be okay,” she murmured, smoothing back his hair. “You’re going to be okay…”
Chapter 34
Blair stood in the entrance hall of Thornhallow Manor, the magic that had once defined this place was gone. It was strange how quickly the world could change. A week ago, it had been the seat of the Luminous Concordat’s power. Now it was just a shell.
No magical resonance hummed through the walls. No ancient power pulsed beneath the floorboards. The wards that had protected the grounds for centuries were gone, dissolved when Fermata’s soul had been unravelled. What remained was stone, wood, and empty rooms.
Blair pushed open the door to what had been the council chambers. Neat rows of tables and high-backed chairs had circled the room, along with a tingling sensation that constantly crawled over her skin every time she walked in. No doubt something bad had happened here, something only her Resonant magic could pick up.
Now it was the heart of their relief operations in the city. Maps covered every surface, some showing Nightreach’s current state of devastation, others marking evacuation routes and temporary shelters, some of which were being set up outside the city walls. Supply lists sat beside correspondence being sent to other cities asking for aid.
Reed looked up from where he stood bent over a map, his face drawn with exhaustion. He’d been working without rest since they’d arrived from the Spirefields.
“The eastern quarter relief efforts are holding,” he told her. “Sienna’s team got clean water flowing to the shelter on Ashford Street. One of the survivors is a Limina mage—he got it working. We’ve also accounted for another forty survivors overnight.”
Blair nodded, absorbing the information whilst scanning the other documents scattered across the table. Numbers that represented lives. People who now needed food, shelter, and medicine. Basic things that had become impossibly complicated when half the city was rubble and the rest was on the edge of becoming lawless frontiers.
“The vaults?” she asked.
“Still sealed.” Reed straightened, rolling his shoulders to work out tension that had probably taken up permanent residence there. “I posted guards like you asked, but there’s been no trouble. Most of the remaining witches are too busy with the wounded to care about what’s locked away down there.”
It was still hard to believe that The Luminous Concordat was gone. Fermata and Fortis had killed most of the witches during their reign of terror, and more had died at Saint Aldwin’s. What remained was a scattered handful of survivors who’d lost their leadership, their structure, and their certainty about what they were supposed to be.
But Thornhallow’s library was intact. The archives held centuries of magical knowledge, and the vaults contained artefacts and grimoires that predated the Concordat’s founding. Now all of it was waiting for someone to decide what happened to it all.
It was an easy choice, compared to everything else Blair had to deal with. The vaults would remain sealed until Ember recovered enough to make her own choices. She was still High Witch, with or without Thornhallow’s power behind her. When she was strong enough to face what had been done to her, she would decide the Concordat’s future…if there was a future for it at all. Blair wasn’t sure there should be.
“How is Ember?” Blair asked. “Has Edmund given his report today?”
“Yes, he has.” Reed’s expression darkened. “Edmund says her physical wounds are healing, but the magical damage from the separation…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Owen’s in the same condition. They’re both conscious now but barely responsive. Edmund thinks it’ll take weeks before they’re strong enough to speak properly, let alone make decisions about anything.”
Blair nodded, remembered watching Threnody tear Fermata and Fortis from their bodies. The way reality had fractured around the Echo’s power. The screaming as their souls were ripped free. She’d seen the aftermath too, when Edmund and the other surviving witches had carried Ember and Owen away from the devastation. They’d looked hollowed out.
Getting them back at all had been a miracle. Blair wouldn’t push for more than that, but it was clear their souls had been wounded.
“Keep me updated,” she said. “And make sure Edmund has whatever supplies he needs. If we’re short on something, we’ll find it.”
“Already done.” Reed tapped a list near his elbow. “I’ve got Denny coordinating with the shelter networks. If anyone has medical supplies to spare, we’ll know about it.”
“Great.”
She moved to the window and looked out over Hampstead Heath. The grounds of Thornhallow Manor stretched away in wild tangles of overgrown gardens and ancient trees. Beyond that, the damage left behind by the Arcana became visible. Smoke still rose from fires burning in the distance. The skyline was wrong, broken by collapsed buildings and the strange shimmer of reality that hadn’t fully healed.
Nightreach looked like a war zone…because it had been one. Maybe it still was, depending on what came next.
Movement below drew her eye. Edmund emerged from the manor’s east wing entrance, carrying his medical bag. Another witch followed him, her face pale as they walked toward the temporary infirmary they’d set up in what used to be Thornhallow’s greenhouse.
Blair watched them disappear around a hedge and felt something twist in her chest. Theo would have been down there with them. Calculating exactly how much power each healing spell required, optimising Edmund’s techniques, finding ways to stretch their limited magical reserves further. His mind had worked like that, always seeking the most efficient solution.
His loss was a void she’d never fill, and he’d always be with her, but the edges of it felt a little less painful with each passing day.
Blair drew a breath and turned away from the window.
“I’m going to check on Cormac,” she said.
Reed nodded without looking up from his maps. “Tell him we’ve got the supply chain running smoothly now. He’ll want to know.”
She left the council chambers and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Her footsteps echoed through empty hallways lined with doors that led to rooms she hadn’t bothered exploring yet. Some had probably been private quarters for high-ranking Concordat members. Others might have been teaching spaces or ritual chambers. It didn’t matter now.
Cormac’s room was at the end of the eastern hallway. Blair knocked once before pushing the door open.
He sat in a chair by the window, wrapped in blankets despite the warmth of the day. His silver-streaked beard had been trimmed properly now that he was awake, and someone had found him clean clothes that actually fit. But the lines of exhaustion carved into his face told the truth about his condition. Waking up from weeks of catatonia hadn’t restored his strength. He looked frail in ways she’d never associated with the Praxis leader before.
“Blair,” he said, looking up as she entered. “Are Reed’s scouting reports keeping you busy?”
“Always.” She pulled another chair over and sat down. “We accounted for another forty survivors overnight. Edmund’s got Ember and Owen stable. The vaults are secure and the evacuation routes are holding.”
Cormac nodded slowly, processing the information with the same careful attention he’d always brought to Praxis operations. Well, the few she’d seen before everything went sideways, that was. “Good. That’s good work.”
“We’re doing what we can.” She leaned back in her chair. “It’s not enough. Won’t be enough for a long time. But it’s something.”
“Something’s better than nothing.” He shifted slightly, adjusting the blankets. “I heard you established command structure whilst I was…” He gestured vaguely at his own head. “Indisposed.”
“Someone had to.” Blair kept her tone matter-of-fact. No point in pretending the situation had been anything other than desperate. “You were gone. Theo and Faith were dead. Everyone was looking to me for direction, so I gave it to them.”
“You did well.”
The simple approval shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did. Blair had never been particularly concerned with what people thought of her leadership style. She made decisions based on what needed doing, not what would make her popular or earn praise. But hearing Cormac acknowledge what she’d accomplished during those impossible weeks made her feel good about it all.
She had done well. She’d kept people alive when survival seemed impossible. She’d held Praxis together when it would have otherwise collapsed.
“Thank you,” she said.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Outside the window, birds called to each other in the overgrown gardens. Normal sounds from a world that was trying to pretend it hadn’t nearly ended.
“What happens next?” Cormac asked finally.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Not anymore.”
Blair hesitated. It felt like he was passing the torch in some subtle way, acknowledging he’d given up his mantle the moment he broke.
“Well…I don’t know,” she admitted. “Right now, we should focus on what needs doing today. Tomorrow, it’ll be what needs doing tomorrow. Eventually we’ll have breathing room to think further ahead, but right now…” She shrugged. “Right now we’re still in triage mode.”
“Triage mode can’t last forever.”
“No,” Blair met his gaze, “but it’ll last as long as it needs to. We’re not making grand plans until we’ve got stable ground to build them on.”
Cormac studied her for a long moment, then nodded.
“Besides,” Blair stood, restless energy driving her to her feet, “when we do start planning Praxis’ future, it needs to be different from what we had before. It’s been operating in the shadows for too long.”
“Praxis worked in the shadows because the shadows were where we were needed.”
“Yeah, but that was before.” Blair moved to the window, looking out over the devastated city again. “Look where secrecy got us. The Arcana nearly destroyed everything and we were scrambling to respond because we were isolated. Secrecy put us on the back foot.”
She could feel Cormac’s attention on her back, weighing her words carefully.
“You’re talking about rebuilding Praxis as something public,” he said.
“I’m talking about rebuilding Praxis as something useful.” Blair turned to face him. “An organisation that helps Nightreach recover and protects its people without hiding in tunnels beneath the city and hoarding information. We’ve got the chance to do this right. Actually integrate with the community instead of operating like some secret police force that shows up after the damage is done.”
“That’s ambitious.”
“It’s necessary.” Blair crossed her arms. The Concordat had acted as the police in this world, but not in the way Blair knew about law enforcement as a detective in the otherworld. Maybe it was about time the MET opened a branch in Nightreach, not officially affiliated, of course. “The old Praxis is gone,” she went on. “ The sanctum is destroyed. Half our agents are dead. We can either try to rebuild what we had, which clearly wasn’t working, or we can build something better. The world is different now. It has to be.”
Cormac was quiet for a while, his gaze distant as he processed what she was proposing. Blair waited, letting him think it through without pushing.
“You’ve thought about this,” he said finally.
“I’ve had time to think about a lot of things.” Blair returned to her chair and sat down again. “Watching the world nearly end puts some perspective on what actually matters.”
“And what matters?”
“People.” The answer came easily, without hesitation. “Not secrets or grand traditions or maintaining institutional power. Just people trying to survive and build lives in a world that keeps throwing impossible situations at them. That’s who we should be protecting. That’s who we should be accountable to.”
“That sounds like a logical idea,” Cormac said. “Praxis was created to protect against magical threats, including the Arcana. They’re gone now, but there will be always be someone abusing the power of this world. It’s human nature.”
“Human nature… That’s what nearly ended us,” she murmured. Sighing, she looked back to Cormac. “There’s so much to do. Every day I wake up wondering if I’m making the right calls. If I’m doing enough. If people are alive because of my decisions or in spite of them. I’ll never be able to save humanity from itself.”
“That uncertainty means you’re paying attention.” Cormac settled back into his blankets. “The moment you stop questioning yourself is the moment you become dangerous. Human nature won’t change overnight, but in time it just might…as long as there are those out there who inspire love and understanding.”
Blair nodded. It matched what Theo had told her once, but in different words. Good leaders doubt themselves because they understand the weight of their choices. Bad leaders who charge forward with absolute certainty, leave destruction in their wake.
