Within minutes, Samuel pulled his hands back with a sharp, controlled groan, his body shaking violently, exhausted by the immense physical and spiritual effort. His shirt was soaked, clinging to his powerful frame. The partial Change receded, leaving him merely human, but utterly spent.
He had succeeded. The crystal Casket sat on the stone slab, cool and perfectly formed, shimmering with a soft, stable internal light.
"It's beautiful," Esther whispered, running a reverent finger over the smooth, precise edges.
"Now, the final move," Fortune commanded, his impatience mounting. "We retrieve the Silver Bloom and place it within the Casket."
Esther knew Fortune was still too injured to move quickly, but they had to trust their gamble.
"Samuel, stay here and guard the Casket. I'll go back for the Bloom."
"No, Esther," Samuel protested, grabbing her hand. "You're too weak, and Fortune will try to stop you and claim the energy for himself."
"He can't touch me without being burned again," Esther pointed out, meeting his gaze fiercely. "And you need to recover. I know the path in the greenhouse. I know the plant."
She looked at Fortune. "You stay, vampire. You have my word. I return with the Bloom. If you betray the truce, you risk the chaos."
Fortune stared at her, assessing the risk. He knew the Pack was hunting. If he followed Esther, he might run into Samuel's father. If he stayed, he controlled the powerful Samuel, who was now barely able to stand.
"Go, Keeper," Fortune conceded with a cold smile. "But know that if I hear a wolf's howl, I will melt this Casket into dust."
Esther nodded, grabbed the diary, and raced out of the cavern, back toward the entrance of the Ogwumagala Caves.
The climb out was grueling on her weakened body. When she finally stumbled out onto the shale, the sky was just beginning to lighten—the soft, grey wash of the Nigerian dawn. The air no longer smelled fresh; it smelled of imminent storm and magic.
She sprinted back toward Madam Chinwe's compound, her mind fixed on the Silver Bloom.