The days of magic are long since past, but they will come again. Searah, Kaytee and Reacca are just moving into adulthood, but as the story starts, secrets about Searah's family, her links to magic and an unwanted inheritance hang over their lives...
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Searah opened her eyes and let her tears fall onto the unmoving form that had been Teraous. His hand was still loosely wrapped around her wrist and the knife they had both held lay upon the ground. Around her, feelings of shock and surprise where working their way through the crowd, they had not expected her to do it, and they had not seen that it had been Teraous hands that had pushed the blade into his own side. Searah looked up and saw the Belfarian looking down at her, an appraising look upon her face.
'You, you have more strength than I gave you credit for' she said quietly, and Searah had to shake her head to push away one of the Belfarian's spirits drifting closer to her face.
'And now, no one else dies?' Searah called across the narrow distance, her voice sounding stronger than she felt.
'Everyone dies, Searah, in their own time and in their own ways, but not today, and not by my hands. Your friends are safe.' It was a lie, and Searah knew it, knew it to her very soul.
'And what of me?' Searah asked.
'You will be sent away.'
'Away. Where?'
The Belfarian grinned, a harsh, wide smile. 'Away' was all she said.
Searah put a hand up to her forehead, leaving a streak of blood in her dirty-blonde hair. The pain was still rushing across her temples, and she felt weak and drained. She tried to steady her breathing. Searah knew that, if she was going to make one final push, one final attempt to rid the world of the evil ghost that had infested her mother's body that it would have to be soon, it would have to be now. But as she knelt on the cold earth, her spirits moving in front her like a talisman, the tall, imposing figure of her enemy stood between her and the rest of the world, she didn't know if she had the strength to do what she knew she had to, to do what only she in all the Territories could do. Through all the pain, the horror and the heartache, she felt a pull at the back of her mind and, almost instinctively, reacted to it. For an odd moment she felt like she was seeing the whole battlefield, broken, discarded stone and rock littering the ground, the Belfarian walking towards her and the people gathered behind her, some lying motionless on the floor, some sat beside the dead, some standing, watching their masters slow move forward. She closed her eyes and could still see the scene in front of her. The Belfarian was reaching her arms out towards Searah, her own eyes closed and a look of concentration on her familiar face.
'Graegfolde,' she said to Searah as her fingers began to twitch, 'remember that word, you will need it. Say it, say it over and over again and you might stand a chance.'
Searah stood up, unsteady on her feet, her head pounding, her chest rising and falling with every heavy, laboured breath.
'Brad se burg dor,' the Belfarian started to chant, 'forthgan se midweg. Brad se burg dor, fothgan se midweg.' she said over and over again, her fingers moving in a strange, intricate pattern through the air. Between her outstretched hands, something was starting to move. Searah couldn't see it properly, like it was both there and not there, part of the world and yet separate from it. It grew both darker and lighter, and the very fabric of the world around started to swirl and shake, vibrate and pulse. Suddenly, the air between the Belfarian's shaking hands rent apart and a blast of power, air, heat, light and strength burst from its centre. Searah felt it wash over her like water, smothering every sense, but she did not move. All around, the spirits of those still standing billowed and tumbled away, pushed backwards by the force released by the Belfarian, Searah felt her own spirits washed away and saw them blown backwards in the buffeting air, finally coming to rest almost out of sight. They did not return, however, instead they and the spirits of all those around spread out in what looked like an imaginary circle, seemingly afraid to come any closer to the unnatural hole that had opened up in the world at the command of the creature which stood at their very centre. Searah felt something pull her forwards, and at first she thought it was magic pulling her towards this new atrocity, but then she realised that it was the swirling, vibrating, renting mass of darkness and light that was pulling her forwards. All around her rocks and dust were starting to move and swirl, blocking out everything around them, turning the world into a strange, blurred half real shapes that shifted in the gloom.
