The second terrace of Kairon Aoun had been the commercial district of the ancient city. As Timur had explained to her, it consisted of a number of large main streets, each of which was home to a particular trade.

The terrace did however feature a central market square lined with abandoned stalls. While the clay-brick floor was rough and not particularly pleasant to walk over, the space gave Frances, Morgan and Hattie the space to practise their magic.

At the moment, though, Morgan was lying down in the privacy of one of the old shops. She guessed it was a metalworker’s shop from the crumbling forge and flume that sat in the corner.

As she lay on the bedroll, watching her mother consult with her books, a nervous chill wormed up Morgan’s back. This felt familiar and she knew why.

“Mom, this isn’t going to hurt, is it?” she asked.

Looking up from the book she was reading, Frances shook her head. “No. It should be painless. If it does hurt, you tell me immediately so I can stop.”

“Okay.” Clutching her hands over her shirt, the harpy-troll bit her lip. “When do you need me to take my shirt off?”

Frances abruptly tore her gaze from her book. “Huh?”

Morgan tried to watch her mother through half-lidded eyes. “You are going to have to find the magic stones, right mom?”

Frances examined her daughter’s closed off expression with narrowed eyes. She didn’t move just yet, though. “Yes, because to commune with the magic stones we need to get a better idea of the existing enchantments placed on them. I’m going to be finding the stones and testing them, and I don’t need to touch your skin to do that.”

Sitting up, Morgan couldn’t hide the relief that relaxed her face and shoulder. “Wait, you don’t?”

“Morgan, what do you recall about magic stones that allows mages to detect them?” Frances asked.

“They give off energy that allows mages to draw on their power and control them,” said Morgan. Her eyebrows rose. “Oh, you plan to use that magic to find the stones in me?”

“Yes.” Frances shut her book and walking over, plopped herself next to her daughter. “So why did you think that you needed to strip?”

Taking a breath, Morgan took her adoptive mother’s extended hand. “I…I guess it reminded me of an operation.” She found it odd, but Frances’s broken-hearted wince made Morgan somehow feel a bit warmer. At the very least, she knew her mother wasn’t judging her for her fears.

“Oh sweetie.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just get it over with,” the princess muttered.

Shaking her head, Frances squeezed her hand. “Morgan, I’m only willing to go through with this if you consent. The moment you aren’t comfortable, we’re stopping.”

Morgan’s eyes widened. “But we have to—”

“We don’t. We can always do this another time,” said Frances in a firm tone.

“But we may not have any time left, mom. Please, I…I don’t want to lose you, or anybody else, especially if I can do something.” Wiping her eyes, Morgan watched as her mother’s expression softened a little. After a moment, Frances let out a small sigh.

“Tell you what, if you really want to try, we can go through with it. But please, tell me if you can’t bear it anymore. I don’t want to hurt you,” said Frances.

Morgan pursed her lips. That wouldn’t be so bad. The sense that she was failing her friends and loved ones faded. At the same time, she didn’t feel like she was about to throw up anymore. She could feel her heartbeat slow and her mind seemed to think more clearly.

She nodded.

Frances leaned forward, touching her forehead to Morgan’s. “You’re being very brave dear.”

“I don’t feel very brave,” said Morgan. She knew she was too close to her mother to hide how scared she felt. Even so, she tried to meet her mother’s eye.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t being brave in facing your fears,” said Frances, smiling.

“But how do folk do it, mom? How did you do it? And do it all the time? Did you just stop being scared or getting sent back to Earth?” Morgan whispered.

She expected her mother to just be able to answer that question without hesitation. Yet it was that that made Frances draw back. Her mother didn’t let go of her hand, but the young woman’s unfocused, narrowed eyes told Morgan how puzzled she was feeling.

“I don’t entirely know because I’m still scared of getting sent back to Earth. I guess I got used to it?”

“You got used to it?” Morgan asked in a flat tone. “You got so used to it you fought King Thorgoth one on one?”

“Well not for Thorgoth, but I did get used to putting myself in danger if that meant I could protect the ones I love. What I mean I guess is that I love the people I’m trying to protect more than I worry about getting sent back to Earth.” Frances nodded to herself and chuckled. “That and my parents don’t scare me as much anymore.”

Morgan’s eyes were wide as plates. “Wait, they don’t?”

“I suppose they don’t.” Frances returned her daughter’s stare, her own mouth agape. “I mean, it’s not like they can change who I’ve become. Even if I turn back to my younger self, I still would be me. They can’t change that I’ve faced far scarier threats than them.” Blinking, Frances stared at her own hands, which were holding Morgan’s. “Huh, that…that’s new.”

“You mean you weren’t just spouting some wisdom you already knew?” Morgan asked.

Frances shook her head. “No. I’ve realised Morgan that the more time we spend together, the more I learn about myself. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, though.”

“No, you are. You’re showing me that maybe one day, I won’t be so scared anymore,” said Morgan. She took a breath. “That’ll be enough.”

“I’m glad.” Frances helped her daughter lie down and brushed a lock of Morgan’s hair out of her eyes. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Morgan nodded. “I’m ready.”

Taking out her wand, Frances closed her eyes and started to hum. A tingling warmth spread through the tip of Morgan’s wings, through her back and up her shoulders. As Frances focused her attention on her daughter, trying to seek the magic emanating from the stones, the warmth shifted, moving a little like a searchlight.

The warmth settled on Morgan’s right shoulder and Frances grinned. “Found one. Hm.”

“Mom?”

Frances’s lip curled in consternation. She could feel the stone like it was pricking her magic after she touched it. It was rather unpleasant and after noting the location, she withdrew her magic from that area.

“The spells on these stones are a lot more hostile than I thought they’d be. They pushed against my magic sense. We’ll have to be careful.”

Massaging her shoulder, Morgan couldn’t find the stone. More oddly enough, she felt nothing other than the ambient warmth from Frances’s magic. “I didn’t feel anything, though.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“That’s good, but I’m still going to proceed very cautiously,” said Frances. Raising her wand, she focused her attention on her daughter’s opposing shoulder. She quickly found another stone, again, with the same prickly feeling.

Continuing to scan her daughter, Frances soon found the third stone, embedded in Morgan’s arm. Further examination led her to find the fourth, fifth, and sixth stone in her daughter’s arms and legs.

“How many operations?” Frances asked.

“Ten. I don’t think they put a stone in every one of them.” Morgan swallowed and closed her eyes. “Did you find the one in my chest?”

“The one in your chest—” Frances’s eyes narrowed on the harpy-troll’s torso. “No. Are you sure?”

Morgan blinked. She wasn’t sure why, but the more she considered it, she found herself nodding. “I think so. I didn’t recall where they put the other stones, but I felt strange for days after that one and they had to um…” Her lips failed to form the right words, but Frances was already nodding and gently caressing her forehead.

“Did…did it hurt?”

“They used some kind of numbing spell. So it hurt, but not so much. I just hated that they did this to me.”

“You deserve some hot chocolate after this, or some Hearthsange,” said Frances. She hesitated before leaning down and planting a soft kiss on Morgan’s brow. “You’ve been very brave, dear.” She smiled at her daughter for a moment before her smile cracked. “Um, sorry if I—”

“No. I liked that. Thanks.” Morgan smiled back before closing her eyes. “Alright, let’s get this over with. I want that Hearthsange.”

Chuckling, Frances waved Ivy’s Sting over Morgan’s chest. She focused her attention, letting her senses hone in on her daughter’s torso, around the clavicle. Now that she looked more closely, she could sense something there, but it was so closely attuned to her daughter’s natural magic that it seemed almost inseparable.

No, it flickered. That’s how Frances could see it, but as she touched the magic in the stone, she could also feel it pulse to a beat. It was flaring to the beat of her daughter’s pulse.

“Morgan, can you focus your attention on your chest? The stone…this one feels almost in tune to you.”

“It does?” Morgan asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Mmhmm. It’s almost as if…” Frances pursed her lips and focused a little more of her magic onto the stone. Morgan’s chest sparkled with a light-blue glow. She expected the stone to push back, but instead, she felt only another presence. From underneath Morgan’s skin and clothing, shone a violet light, the color of her magic.

“Morgan?”

Morgan waved her hand over herself, eyes widening at the light shining against her hand. “It’s ticklish, and warm, but I feel okay, if a little freaked out. What’s going on?”

Frances withdrew her magic and a moment after the blue light faded, so did the violet.

“The central stone is attuned to you, but that’s…weird. Hold on.” Scrambling to her feet, Frances ran to her bag and started to pull out research notes. “When we rescued you, we also recovered some of their research notes, despite their best efforts to destroy them. Here.”

Pulling out a piece of paper, Frances showed it to her daughter. It featured a diagram of a humanoid, with several stones drawn in several different spots. “This was a draft of their plans. Look at what the label for that central stone says.”

Morgan scratched at her chin, eyes narrowed. “The keystone. But key to what?”

“From the other research papers I was looking at, they designated this keystone as the key to controlling the mana batteries. Except this keystone has attuned to your magic and your will. It’s probably why you can use the stones’ power in the first place,” said frances.

“They did say they were going to plan more operations, but hold on, what about the other stones?” Morgan asked.

“They’re not attuned to you. They’re almost inert and inactive.”

“Then why put this keystone in if the other stones are not working?”

Frances, arms crossed, paced in a small circle in the old blacksmith’s shop. Morgan watched the mage, rocking back and forth on her claws, wings fluttering once in a while.

“I think they were trying to activate the other stones with the keystone. Except you’ve somehow managed to gain control of it.” Frances smiled and patted Morgan’s shoulder. “That’s actually fantastic news. It means that you can control your magic if you focus on that keystone.”

“Yeah, yeah! You know what? I’ve done it already. I managed to focus on it in the battle!” Morgan’s euphoria however, was cut short when she recalled a memory. A cold chill ran up between her wings. “But…when I lost control, I also felt…like my chest would burst. Maybe it was the stone as well.”

Schooling her expression into one that she hoped emanated calm, Frances made sure that she was meeting Morgan’s eye. “We did discuss that the stones embedded into you destabilise your magic. I don’t think that’s the case, though. In fact, I think the reason your magic has been reacting so much to your emotions is because that keystone has attuned to you.”

Morgan blinked. “Wait, it’s…reflecting my emotions? But doesn’t magic draw on your emotions in the casting process anyway?”

Frances nodded. “It does, but usually only when the caster intends it. In your case, I think the keystone is channelling your emotional state even when you aren’t intentionally trying to cast a spell. So anytime you felt extreme emotions like panic, or fear, the keystone would immediately cause your magic to reflect that state of mind.”

“Which is why I had that outburst when I first touched Lighbreaker and the other times I lost control.” Morgan frowned. “But…this was only with one magic stone, mom. If we activated those other inert stones and tied them to the keystone, wouldn’t that mean my outbursts would be more intense.”

Frances grimaced. “It may be so. Which is why I want to know if you still want to go ahead with this, dear.”

Morgan bowed her head. A million thoughts ran through her mind. Cool relief and yet, a niggling anxiety also coiled in her stomach.

“I think I need to think about it mom, but can we…we keep practicing?”

Frances smiled. “Of course, Morgan. Come on, I think you should learn a little more about shield spells.”

“That would probably be a good thing,” said Morgan, returning her mother’s smile.

***

Adjusting the chin strap to her helmet, Frances ran up the stairs to the rampart. Timur was hot on her heels, hurriedly checking the carbine that he was slinging over his shoulder.

“Mom? What’s going on?” Frances asked.

Edana, standing behind one of the merlons on the battlement, pointed to the ground below. A little puzzled, Frances looked over and after a moment, she found herself scowling.

In the last two days, Thorgoths’ Alavari had been digging into the rubble that had been the First Terrace. As agreed upon, the defenders had allowed their enemy to recover their wounded and deceased undisturbed.

Except now that Frances reviewed their digging, she could see telltale shapes start to form in the rubble.

“They’re connecting the rescue holes they’re digging into siege trenches.” Looking up, Frances pulled out her spyglass. “Problem is that they could claim these are just holes to rescue them.”

Eloise peaked over the rampart and snorted. Hacking up some phlegm, she spat it over the rampart. “Well that explains why they haven’t pulled anybody else out. Bastards.”

“Weren’t you a former baroness of Alavaria?” Edana asked.

Eloise arched an eyebrow while Timur coughed. “Countess Eloise has been re-ennobled under my sister’s rule, um, Lady Firehand.”

The Firehand held her gimlet glare on Timur for a moment longer before chuckling. “Call me Edana, Timur. Anyhow, I wonder why they are building siege trenches so close to the terrace. Even with their head start, it’s going to take several more days of digging for them to build trenches from the Greenway to connect to these trenches here.”

“That and they don’t have much time left. The Lapanterian army is going to arrive in a week and then we’ll have Sir Martin’s reinforcements in another week after that. Thorgoth is going to find himself outnumbered,” Timur muttered.

“Could be a diversion, and just to keep the soldiers busy,” said Eloise.

“It could also just be one component to their plans. Remember, we still haven’t figured out exactly how to deal with the dragons,” said Frances. Pulling out her spyglass, Frances adjusted it so she could view the distant Greenway.

That was when she froze. There was a lot of activity going on but the old tool was allowing her to see the purple-uniformed Alavari moving dirt. They were digging too. She could see wheelbarrows being trundled away by orcs and centaurs, whilst goblins steadily hacked away at the earth. Trolls and ogres were also putting up sandbag walls to create barricades, and laying boards on the ground of the trenches.

In these trenches teams of Alavari were dragging up cannon.

“Mom, it’s a distraction! They’re setting up siege artillery positions and building trenches at the Greenway” Frances exclaimed, handing her mother her spyglass.

Edana took a peek and a vehement scowl twisted her lips. Handing the spyglass back to her daughter, the mage pulled out her magical mirror. “I’ll make the call to Forowena. The ceasefire is over.”

“Can we fire on them? Didn’t we agree to a ceasefire?” Timur stammered.

Frances hesitated, but Eloise merely growled, “Our agreement was that they would build no works and they broke it when they started setting them up. I’m sounding the alarm on the walls.”

“Hold on, let’s grant them this small mercy.” Frances hopped up onto the battlements, standing in full view of the digging Alavari below her. It was a dizzying height down the wall and the sloped terrace. Yet she didn’t flinch. Raising Ivy’s Sting she touched her wand to her throat.

“Alavari of Thorgoth, this Stormcaller. I deliver you your only warning. The ceasefire is over. Your leaders have decided to build siegeworks to bombard our defences. Abandon your works immediately as we will commence hostilities. You have until the count of ten. One. Two.”

The Alavari stared at Frances, jaws opening.

“Three. Four. Five.”

A horn sounded behind Frances. Shouts from the captains on the walls echoed across the rampart. The Alavari fled, some with their tools, others dropping everything and running.

“Six. Seven. Eight.”

The miners and rescuers were mounting their horses and were now galloping away.

“Nine.”

They were clear out of musket range, and Frances sighed.

“Ten.”

The crack and thunder of cannons behind her sounded. Lead and iron shot scythed through the cavern of Kairon Aoun, slamming into the distant siegeworks. As a cloud of dust and dirt wreathed the once active digging preparations, Frances sighed, looking over the ruined First Terraced. “I wish we didn’t have to do this.”

Edana shook her head. “I know, Frances, but they didn’t leave us with much of a choice.”