The valley hung in the balance for an instant before past and present converged. The moon shone with ectoplasmic light that surrounded both armies, turning warriors to shadow and memory to ash. At its center, Lily stood, her lithe form unshaking before the bloodshed that swirled around her.
Nadia's eyes locked with her daughter's. Her legs collapsed.
"Lily."
She breathed gently.
And still Lily did not move. Her crown of thorns glowed with a fiery scarlet, and the staff in her hand burned like stardust trapped in crystal. Her eyes—those beautiful hazel eyes—were otherwise now, blazing with the caress of something very old and powerful.
"She is not possessed," Moraine snarled. "She is drawing on the leyline magic. That staff—is one from Maelina's vault of secrets. She is overloading."
