Both women moved reverently to the edge of the shaft, solemn in the face of this loss.

"But why-"

"Dara. The staff." Lia held out her hand. "Go check the books. I want the exact date their output dropped." And I want you out of my hair.

"Yes, my Lady." Dara passed over the staff and quickly left Lia to prepare.

As soon as she could no longer hear her assistant's footsteps, Lia closed her eyes.

She traced a figure eight with the staff, twirling both ends, twisting her wrists and stepping back, putting her body through the meditative paces she had learned as a child. She reached out with her magic as she moved, releasing her thoughts into the weight of the air, the voice of Ellaster, the shape of the world.

She was lead investigator for good reason, and she was able to sweep away her troubled thoughts in moments. The burden of this assignment, the pressure of so many people – hungry, angry, afraid – needing her. Her body moved from one training form to another, passing from earth to air and, finally, to power. With her mind so quiet and still, she could hear the magic.

Lia took a deep breath.

For one moment, all that mattered was the air entering her body; suspended in her lungs.

Then she released it and became a part of everything.

She relaxed every muscle group until a hazy calm settled over her. Feel the stone beneath your feet. The soft fabric around your knees. The solid staff in your hand. She found herself within the fabric of the world, then let herself exist beyond it. Imagined her soul as a light in her ribs that was growing, expanding. Felt her own joy move past her body like the sun on her skin, warm somewhere above her, outside her, growing larger. She followed the expanse of feeling as it filled the room. Until it found the magic.

The magic felt like water. Smooth and slippery, dragging along her skin as she moved in and out of it. Surface tension. Warm and relaxing, but cool on the skin. And like water, it could push you, pull you in its waves, or cradle meekly in your hands and let you take a sip.

Lia let the emotions of the day mix with that magic, be washed away by it, replaced with the sharp, powerful feeling of the entire world.

The magic's words guided her words. Like her own voice but better. It spoke to her in thoughts quicker than her own, suggesting words before she could think them herself. It lifted her, a swooping lightheadedness in every part of her body as her feet left the ground.

She felt whole, home, belonging, like she could do anything. She was powerful. She was nothing because she was everything. She was the world. She was every stone on the wall, every curve and line of the carvings decorating the space. She was the hot breath of the priest and the silky black hair of her assistant. She was the sound of a fly's wings buzzing around the room, the very air quivering around the candle flames. She was the world. Ellaster. The heartbeat of the universe thrummed inside her body.

Hello, she laughter-whispered into the fabric of the room. Tell me what happened here.

Her question evaporated in the air before she could finish the thought. The magic tilted her understanding down, down into the well that was too dark and too cold. She dropped into it like a stone, spearing through the wide tunnel with gravity's wings until thud. A wall. Not a physical one. But a barrier. She could hear the magic on the other side of it. Could feel its desperation. It wanted to reach her, wanted to be free, be out, be whole again the way she was whole. But this blockage prevented it from coming through. On the other side of that barrier it was so very, very loud.

The magic's words were more than her words.

In fact, her own words felt very far away...

Did she have her own words? Why would she want them?

The magic's voice was beautiful.

Star children budding like the needletuft seeds in their husks. Wind – filthy wind, metal black and fire – holding the seeds in star dark palms. Lifting them, blowing them, no care, no concern, just pieces. Dust and building blocks. Insignificant. But the seeds settle. The greedy earth, it eats them, swallows them, makes them more than seeds, more than weeds. Makes them trees. Towers. Forests. All the pretty pieces racing, working, being more and never putting themselves together. Hands lift and sort and place – so much bigger. Older, not wiser. Making patterns against the grain.

"Lia!"

Lia was very human, very small and bound by skin and bones.

She was headfirst, facing the dark well, her hair floating around her head like unspun fiber.

Too soft.

"Lia, you should have waited."

Lia doesn't need your grounding, Dara.

"You're speaking in the third person. Get down from there. If you fall, stars only know where you'd go."

Dara threw a rope at her superior, snagging it on Lia's wrist and hauling her back to the edge. With effort, she grabbed Lia's arm and bodily forced her onto solid ground again.

The magic bled away from her mind like color before the brazen rays of sun. Lia was suddenly tired. Alone. Small and fragile and weighted down by too much reality.

Dara didn't let go until Lia's feet were back on the ground.

The magic ran into Dara's skin like a puddle soaking into woolen socks.

Lia could use words again.

"I'm sorry to have frightened you. I was frustrated and over-eager."

Dara tsked. "You're the one who is always harping about safety protocols."

"Yes... And this is exactly why." Lia rubbed the sudden ache behind her eyes, sighing. "Tell me you found something."

"I got the data you asked for. Maybe we should find a place to stay for the night. You need to rest."

"No, I need to know why this keeps happening." Lia's voice was sharper than she intended. "I'm sorry, Dara. You're right. Bring the data. Let's find someplace to rest."

Lia clung to her assistant's hand as they walked out of the temple, purposefully draining herself of all the magic she'd just taken in.

It still teased at the edge of her mind, tempting and bright. All she wanted was to lose herself in it again.

But she gritted her teeth and gripped Dara's hand harder instead.