She ghosted along the tunnel until she came to a cavern adorned with fang-like stalactites and stalagmites. And there, at its center, sat the scrying spring.
“Hello,” she whispered to the liquid timemagic.
The silver substance chimed in greeting. She didn’t have to tell it what she wanted to see; it knew her heart by now. It swirled faster and faster, colors spiraling up from the depths to form images on the sparkling surface of the pool.
“Erasmus,” she murmured. Perhaps the spring had narrowed in on her old teacher because she’d been thinking of Aeria.
She watched the Healer for a time. He was preparing for this year’s Ceremony of Choice—a ceremony that would have zero casualties. It had been easy for Keriya to purge the necromagical radiation from the Felwood. The darkness that Valer
