Her brow laced with sweat, Sage gives a quick nod and grinds out a spell as she presses her wand’s tip to the center of the rune on my abdomen and marks a dark purple rune on its central disc.

All of the elemental runes ray out light as the forest shapes punch at the cavern’s sides once more and the image of a pine-green, point-eared young man with furious eyes and branch horns shudders through the back of my vision. A cry escapes my throat as the trees scream in my head, my lines knotting with excruciating tightness as the Forest’s branches attempt to dig back in, but my lines are now like slick, crystalline glass and I can sense the Forest’s inability to gain purchase.

And then, in a dizzying, expansive whoosh, the Forest’s magic tears away.

The stone forest imprints blink out of sight and my legs buckle.

Rafe grasps tighter hold of me as I struggle to regain my footing. “I’m all right,” I gasp to him. “Rafe... I’m all right.”

He loosens his grip as I draw in great gulps of air, something new taking root inside me...

Balance.

Coursing through my lines like an expansive tide.

I draw in a deep, stunned breath and the sense of perfect balance gains ground, my magic newly able to breathe.

A wan-looking Sage takes my wand arm in hand and meticulously draws a line of purple runes from my palm all the way to my shoulder. “These are flow runes that will reestablish your magic’s link to your wand hand,” she explains, gesturing toward the line of runes marked down the length of my arm. “They’ll brighten as they charge from your shoulder on down. When the charge reaches your palm, your control over your power will be restored.”

Rivyr’el presses a silver-rune-imprinted disc to the back of my wand hand. “And this rune I’m transferring onto you will track your fastmate.” He presses his stylus to the flat disc, a quick burst of silver light raying out from its sides. He removes the disc, and my eyes widen at the intricate silver rune now marked on my hand, its outer circle encasing what look like two small, linked compasses.

A heady sense of possibility washes over me and I flex my newly purple wand hand, ready to fill it with a wand. I’m coming for you, Lukas.

Rivyr’el rises, still gripping my wrist. “Once your power is restored, this tracking rune will draw on your magic and take on a silver glow. When it does, you’ll be able to get a measure of your fastmate’s distance here—” he points to one of the two internal compasses “—and direction here.”

He’s explaining the finer details when Diana cuts in, nostrils flaring. “Someone’s here.”