For a moment, another image flashed before my eyes.

The ruined, crumbled shell of my own childhood home.

I’d used my magic to destroy it as well, to bring all the stones down, to try to save myself and Bria. I shook my head, and the image vanished. But the tightness in my stomach didn’t go away.

I looked down and I realized my hands were glowing again. The spider rune scars on my palms burned with cold, silver flames once more—even though I wasn’t consciously holding onto my magic. I curled my hands into fists and willed the light, the magic, away. After a moment, the flames died, vanishing back into the scars as though the silverstone in my flesh was somehow the source of their power. I couldn’t quit staring at my palms.

Was it my imagination or had the spider rune scars become more pronounced? For some reason, they looked like pure silver swimming in my flesh now, instead of the paler scars they’d been before. I rubbed my aching head.

Something to worry about later. Much later.

I focused on the basin once more, my eyes flicking over the many figures below. Despite the crowd, it didn’t take me long to find him—Donovan Caine. The detective stood near the entrance to the mine, peering at what looked like a map spread over the hood of a truck. Probably a map of the coal mine itself. A white hardhat covered the detective’s head and cast his features in shadow, along with those of the man beside him. But I recognized him too. Owen Grayson.

I frowned. Why would Owen Grayson be here? Then I remembered. He was into mining just like Dawson had been. With the dwarf buried underneath the mountain, Grayson was the closest thing to an expert the city of Ashland had been able to call upon. Behind the two men, various bulldozers and backhoes moved earth out of the way. Tobias Dawson was dead. They should have saved their gas.

I stood there on the ridge and stared at Donovan, drinking in the sight of the lean, rugged detective. After this was finished, after I was healed, he and I were going to have a long talk—about us. Because I wanted the detective and he wanted me too—and I was tired of his morals, his guilt about wanting to be with me, getting in the way of what we could have together.