Page 107 of Spirit Storm

And that's where we are now.

"All right, let's do a walk-through. No magic, no contact with the rune circle. Just positions and reciting the incantation so we get a sense of the ritual. I'll set you into your positions based on the vision I received of the original ritual. If any of you have visions or knowledge you want to share, feel free to speak up at any time. We all have connections, and in no way do I consider myself unique."

I take a few minutes to relay what I saw in my vision and move everyone into what I believe are their marks.

"This is how it looked." I step into my position and view the arrangement. "Each of them seemed to connect through their affinity simultaneously."

Wylder looks us over and nods. "And from what I'm reading, you don't push your intention into the rune circle—you offer it. The circle does the drawing, and the ley line energy boosts and balances it."

Freya straightens. "Now, let's run through the incantation."

Asher hurries to hand out the words of the ritual to everyone in the circle. We printed them out last night, and Lily glued them onto a piece of stiff card stock so everyone could hold them with one hand.

Priya looks her copy over and frowns. "Are we all casting this at once, or do we have parts?"

"All at once for the whole incantation," I answer. "Or, at least, that's what I saw in the vision."

I give everyone a chance to read through the ritual, and then we begin our rehearsal. We're almost halfway through when a flare of turquoise light sparks from the base of the runes. It flows outward, through the carved crevices, filling the runes like glowing water filling the paths of a maze… then dies out.

Everyone goes still.

"Was that us?" Priya asks.

Bjorn crouches to examine the spot where the light appeared. "Maybe. The intention of the ritual has flowed through these runes for centuries. It's possible the stone recognized our words and the intention behind them, and simply filled in the rest."

“Spell muscle memory?” Amara asks.

“That’s one way to describe it.”

I look at the place where the turquoise light had come from, then back at the group. "Oh, and please, nobody touch the carved surface. I'm pretty sure Tharuzel rigged the circle in Ireland to detonate a trap. I touched it and nothing happened, but Henrik touched it, and that's how we lost him. Since we don't know for sure what happened, it's better just not to touch."

"Xavier and I touch it all the time, so I don't think it's dangerous," Khylie says, "but Poppy's right. Since we don't know, it's likely best to be cautious."

The silence that follows has a different quality to it than the one before. Everyone nods.

Bjorn straightens and reclaims his place.

When he's set, I nod and raise my ritual card. "Okay, let's continue from where we were, then we'll run it again from the beginning.”

The group gets ready to continue as I study the rune circle. Maybe Bjorn is right and the rune circle already knows and accepts the ritual.

In which case, this might be easier than I thought.

Emerald light snakes through the carved channels of the Irish lockstone like liquid intention. As with the lockstones in the Bahamas and Denmark, a deep, resonant hum vibrates beneath my sternum and radiates outward through my arms, my fingertips, into the stone itself.

Around the circle, the others feel it too. I can tell by the way their shoulders drop and their expressions relax. This is working.

It’s been a big day for us already.

Bahamas and Denmark are up—Ireland is next.

The runes drink in our intention, and that emerald light continues to fill in the intricately carved crevices of stone.

We're on the third verse of the incantation, and the rune circle is already three-quarters lit.

Over the long hours of our day, our voices have grown to harmonize our intentions. We're no longer nine spirit witch strangers reciting a spell, we're the next generation of The Nine, safeguarding humanity from a monstrous presence that has no business in our world.

With two successful rituals under our belts, our confidence now soars, and our near-perfect unison makes the chamber walls vibrate.