Another tiniebla zipped out of the conuco, razor-sharp claws outstretched, followed by another one. With her hands and elbows sunken in mud, Eva saw Javier, Reina, and Celeste struggling to catch up to the rushing horde, too far away or distracted to realize she and Maior were breaths away from death.
The tinieblas leapt. Eva screwed her eyes shut, already imagining the belly-tearing agony, the demonic laughter as their teeth unraveled her inner tendrils in the darkness. She hugged herself and closed her eyes, screaming like a child.
The pain never came.
She opened her eyes to a dazzling light of the purest blue. It encapsulated them, turning the air sweet with the aroma of a wildflower field. Standing with them beneath the barrier was a tall woman. With her short locks of black and robes of midday blue, she stared at the tinieblas, unflinching as they slashed and tackled the barrier.
The woman’s brightness blinded Eva to what happened next. She heard the tinieblas’ screeches, shuddered as their talons shrilled against the crystal barrier. When she turned to Maior, she saw her sprawled on the ground, unconscious.
“No!” Eva shook her and called her name until her throat felt like bleeding.
The weight of the ghostly woman’s stare fell on her. Eva met eyes that were blue against dark lashes. In them, she saw sadness. A gaze that understood they were nothing but pawns in someone else’s game.
Slowly the woman faded. Then Maior gave a great inhale, and with it the barrier evaporated into nothing. A great hush fell over the conuco once the protection dissipated. The chaos that had once engulfed them was done.
Javier, Celeste, and Reina circled them with their weapons raised after routing the last tiniebla. And they watched Eva and Maior with a mixture of confusion, exhaustion, and disbelief.
Reina was the first to rush to Maior. She cradled Maior with such gentleness, Eva couldn’t help but recall Maior’s quiet longing when they’d talked about love.
“Mi mamá was here,” Celeste murmured, her face stained in sweat and smears of her own blood. “How is that possible? Did you summon her somehow—” she demanded of the teary Maior.
Panting, Javier said, “Come off it already. Do you really think she wants to keep Laurel in her?”
“She came out just now!” Celeste snapped back. “Mi mamá was here!”
“Clearly. She’s the reason they’re alive! Now let’s make a sweep to make sure no tinieblas are still lurking on the grounds. You and I,” Javier said with emphasis. He gave Eva a long look, then gave up on whatever lingered on the tip of his tongue.
Eva retreated with Reina and Maior back into the house, their boots crunching on the shattered glass littering the foyer. The structure of Gegania itself wasn’t compromised, but it was clear the fa?ade was battered and scratched, the floor muddied and the frames splintered. Eva followed them to the kitchen and set up a kettle on the hearth. Reina helped Maior sit by the kitchen table, then stood against a wall. Though she pretended to stand firm, her crossed arms shielded a wound, her knuckles pale and bloodstained.
Celeste and Javier were in a similarly stained state when they walked into the kitchen as Eva fumbled through serving the teas. And with a hand swiping her sweaty face, Celeste confirmed they had banished all tinieblas for now, and no traces remained.
Javier pointed a thumb at the foyer, where the front door was too dislocated to properly close. “That, out there, was caused by the iridio table?”
Celeste’s cheeks turned a bright red. “Like I said, I’ve never attempted a connection to somewhere so far before.”
“I felt it in my bones,” Eva said. Had Celeste and Javier reeled from the sensation as well? Was it an innate affinity of their blood or her own attunement that she had nurtured these past few days? But instead of an answer, all she got from them were grimacing looks.
Reina let out a pained cough. “If the house uses iridio, then tinieblas will be drawn to it. It’s a fact.”
Javier pointed again with arched brows. “Just like that? So what’s to say that we won’t have another attack while we sleep through the night? I have seen more tinieblas in the past fortnight than in my entire life. They are spawning out of control ever since the arrival of Rahmagut’s Claw.”
“There are wards I can activate. My mom’s family had this house for years. They had safeguards.”
He humphed.
“And Reina can keep watch, no?” Celeste shrugged as she shot Reina a glance.
It didn’t sit right with Eva, especially not in Reina’s visible condition. But perhaps there was more to her capabilities than what Eva had witnessed today.
“We just need a few more days. The connection will be ready soon. Then we’ll head to Tierra’e Sol,” Celeste added.
“Very well,” Javier said before any more interjections could be thrown their way. He took Eva’s hand and said, “Let me help you to the room.”
Celeste looked up. “Javier.”
“What?”
Eva’s blood rushed through her, pumping violently as she imagined the inevitable accusation, of how she had manipulated the tinieblas, igniting their wrath. Would they think less of her for being stupid enough to attempt void magic?
Celeste watched Javier coolly and surprised Eva when she said, “Heal us.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Use your galio and heal us.” Her tone was a command, like it came naturally to her.
Eva walked to the arched doorway, taking full advantage of Javier distracting them with his disdain.
“I’m not interested in being your nurse,” he said.
“Why not? You’re the only one here who’s mastered galio.”
“You’re forgetting about Maior,” he retorted.
There wasn’t hatred in the look Celeste gave Maior. But there wasn’t anything positive in it either.
“Maior needs proper galio training,” Reina pointed out, exhaustion blurring the edges of her voice. “You’re the only one who can teach her.”
“Fantastic,” Javier drawled. Then, to Maior, he said, “Lesson number one: Heal them all. Think you can handle it?”
She nodded. “I’ll need more solution.”
“It’s not that easy,” Celeste protested. “Otherwise we’d all be masters of galio.”
“And what are you afraid of, exactly?” Javier shot back. “That you’ll be forced to ask her for help? Stop complaining. You’re both Damas del Vacío, so start cooperating. You’re in it together.”
With that, he extended his hand to Eva, the invitation a command more than anything else. Eva took it and exited the kitchen, her ankle screaming where the tiniebla’s grip had sprained her. As soon as Eva and Javier entered their bedroom, he closed the door behind them and said, “I felt it.”
Eva’s eyebrows crunched up.
“Whatever you did to anger the tinieblas. I felt it.”
She freed her hand and slipped on an aloof mask. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He watched her long and hard. “Don’t do that again.”
Eva eased into the room smugly, turning away from him. “You sounded like quite the uncle back there,” she said to put the subject behind them.