Beautiful Darkness (Caster Chronicles 2)

She was crying, watching the ball of light as tears streaked down the sides of her face. She forced out every word, as if they were being etched into her, but she didn’t stop.

“In the One who is Bound

Freedom will be Found.

Live again, Darkness,

Come out of the Light.”

Liv’s voice faltered. She closed her eyes and spoke the final words slowly into the night between us.

“Come out. Come—”

The words broke off. She held her hand out to me, and I took it. Link limped over to us, and Ridley clutched his arm on the other side. Liv’s entire body was shaking. With every word, she was falling farther from her sacred duty and her dream. She had taken a side. She had Cast herself into the story that was only hers to Keep. When this was over, if we survived, Liv would no longer be a Keeper-in-Training. Her sacrifice was her gift, the one thing that gave her life meaning.

I couldn’t imagine how that would feel.

We became four voices. There was no turning back.

“E Luce exi! Come out of the Light!”

The blast was so cataclysmic, the rock beneath my feet shot into the wall behind me. All four of us were thrown to the ground. I could taste the wet sand and the saltwater in my mouth, but I knew. My mom had tried to tell me, but I hadn’t been able to hear.

In the cave, framed by rock and moss and sea and sand, was a being made of nothing more than a mist of shadow and light. At first, I could see the rocks behind it, as if it was an apparition. The water washed through it, and it didn’t touch the ground.

Then the light stretched into a shape, the shape into a form, the form into a man. His hands became hands, his body became a body, and his face, a face.

Macon’s face.

I heard my mother’s words. He’s with you now.

Macon opened his eyes and looked at me. Only you can redeem him.

He was dressed in the burnt clothes from the night he died. Only something was different.

His eyes were green.

Caster green.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Wate.”

6.20

Flesh and Blood

Macon!”

It was all I could do not to fling my arms around him. He, on the other hand, looked at me calmly, brushing off some of the burnt grit from his dinner jacket. His eyes were unsettling. I was used to the glassy black eyes of Macon Ravenwood the Incubus, the eyes that regarded you with nothing but your own reflection. Now he was standing in front of me, as green-eyed as any Light Caster. Ridley stared, but didn’t utter a sound. It wasn’t often you saw Ridley speechless.

“Much obliged, Mr. Wate. Much obliged.” Macon rolled his neck back and forth, uncoiling his arms, as if he was waking up from a long nap.

I bent down and picked up the Arclight, lying in the sandy dirt. “I was right. You were in the Arclight all along.” I thought about how many times I’d held it in my hand and relied on it to guide me. How familiar the warmth of the stone had felt.

Link was having trouble coming to grips with the idea that Macon was alive, too. Without thinking, he reached out to touch him. Macon’s hand flew up and grabbed Link’s arm. Link flinched. “So sorry, Mr. Lincoln. I’m afraid my reflexes are a bit—reflexive. I haven’t gotten out much lately.”

Link rubbed his arm. “You didn’t have to do that, Mr. Ravenwood. I just wanted, you know, I thought you were—”

“What? A Sheer? A Vex, perhaps?”