The countdown clock reads ten days until the end of the world. The citizens are organized. Everyone's been notified and assigned a duty. The problem is . . . no one knows for sure how it will end.
Energy-hungry Mages are the most likely culprit. They travel toward a single location from every corner of the continent. Fueled by the two suns, each Mage holds the power of an element: air, earth, fire, metal, water, or ether. They harness their powers to draw energy from the most readily available resource: humans.
Ashara has been assigned to the Ethereal task force, made up of human ether manipulators and directed by Loken, a young man with whom she has a complicated past. Loken and Ashara bond over a common goal: to stop the Mages from occupying their home and gaining more energy than they can contain. But soon, they begin to suspect that the future of the world may depend on Ashara's death.
Rey flashed me his trademark lopsided grin. “So how was your first day as an Ethereal?”
I considered flinging an ether ball at his smug face. Sadly, I had no idea how to do that. So instead, I leaned back into the vehicle cushion. The leather sighed as it accepted my weight. “I’m the worst Ethereal ever.” The exhaustion that had chased me most of the day finally caught up. I let my eyes drift shut.
“But you are an Ethereal?” Excitement rang in his voice.
“That’s what they tell me.”
The smooth motion of the vehicle lulled me into something that resembled relaxation. It was hard to be completely at ease with my comm pressed against my waist. Its countdown clock ticked closer and closer to the end with each second that passed.
Rey shook me so hard I thought my brain would smash into my skull.
“What?” My eyes flew open and I shoved him away.
“Why aren’t you excited about this?”
“It’s not that I’m not excited.” I yawned and stretched my arms. The yawn went on longer than expected, and Rey stared at me with raised brows as he waited.
“Are you done?”
“Maybe. It’s just that I’m more tired than I am excited. Did you know you have to channel your own energy into elemental manipulations?”
He gave me a blank expression.
“Right, of course. You knew that. You’ve been a practitioner most of your life.” My gaze scanned up and down his body; his excited expression, the nervous drumming of his fingertips against the armrest. “How come you’re not exhausted?”
“You get used to it.”
Alicia Wright Brewster is a mild-mannered lady of average height and above average paranormal obsession. By day, she works in an office. At night she is an author, an electronics junkie, and a secret superhero. In her virtually non-existent free time, she loves to read, watch movies, and eat food. She is particularly fond of the food-eating and makes a point to perform this task at least three times per day, usually more.
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