Willow Thornheart's Arc

Chapter 4 of 9

Three days after Dex's warning, Flora's wings began to droop. She had held the concealment spell over the sanctuary since the shelter went up. But plant magic drained her, and one witch's power alone couldn't hide living land. "I can't stay much longer, Willow," she said. Her voice was thin. "When I go, the vines will thin. The trackers will see everything." Willow watched the golden dragon hatchling chase the blue pegasus across the grass. She had built a haven. Now it would blink into view like a lit window. Willow tried her own magic first. She pressed her hands to the soil and pushed. Green light spread, then flickered and died. Her arms shook. "It's too much land for one person," Flora whispered. "You need another mage. A strong one." Willow knew only one wizard strong enough. She hadn't spoken to him in two years. She sent word on the wind, a spell her father taught her when she was small. She did not expect an answer. He came at dusk. His blue robe swept the grass, and his gray beard caught the last light. He looked at the shelter, the healed dragon, the pegasus, the fading vines. "You did all this," Gareth Thornheart said. "Alone." It was not a question. His eyes moved to Flora, spent and pale on a branch. "And you're losing it." "I can't hold the spell," Willow said. Her chin lifted the way it had with the hunter. "I'm not asking you to stay. I'm asking you to make it last." Gareth said nothing for a long moment. Then he knelt and set both hands on the ground. "Concealment on living land wants a second source," he said. "But it doesn't have to be a living one." Light poured from his palms, deep and steady, not the flicker Willow made. It sank into the roots. The vines thickened. The shelter's runes glowed gold, then went quiet. "This charm draws from the land itself now," he said. "It will hold long after I'm gone. Long after you're gone. Forever." Flora's wings lifted. The drain on her was over. She could leave and the sanctuary would stay hidden. Willow felt her throat tighten. "Thank you." Her father stood. He looked at the dragon curled against her boot. His face hardened. "The hunter who found you. Dex Hunt." He knew the name. Of course he did. "He gave you the elixir. That buys him mercy, once." His voice dropped low and cold. "If he ever harms a single creature on this land, I will know. And he will not walk away. That is a father's promise." He turned and walked into the trees, the way the hunter had. The sanctuary was safe now. Hidden forever, from every tracker who might come. But Willow's father had drawn a hard line under Dex's name, and the hunter did not yet know it.