Sage opened her eyes. Her head was pounding, and she felt a familiar fog around her mind. Dread plunged in her stomach as she sat bolt upright and looked around the room.

No. No. It was all wrong. The gold floors and the bejeweled walls. She didn't belong here. Not again. She couldn't do this again.

It was undeniable, though. Spinel tower had been her prison once before and here she was within its walls again. She reached a hand up to her throat to find the diamond choker was back. Sage itched to remove it, but her hands wouldn't move.

No. No. Not again.

A woman dressed in a white wrap approached her. She was a little and tall woman with generous curves and a favorite toy of the Potentate. It had been so long since had seen Anaya, one of the women in the Potentate's collection, but she was always kind to Sage.

"Don't struggle, sweets," Anaya said. "Lie back."

The jewels around Anaya's neck gleamed. Her dark hair was longer than the last time she'd seen it, and her tan skin was waxen from lack of sun. Anaya brushed Sage's hair back.

"Get me out of here," Sage's voice was hoarse. "Please."

"We will get you all cleaned up," Anaya didn't seem to hear her. "Then everything will be back to normal."

A chill went down Sage's spine. She couldn't go through all of this again. Not after the taste of freedom was so sweet. And the Sorcerer—what happened to Dalton?

"Anaya," Sage begged.

"You should feel honored," Anaya said. "The Potentate is preparing you to be married."

Her stomach churned. Sage couldn't stop the bile coming up her throat. She threw up on Anaya's shoes. It seemed all wrong. Why would the Potentate marry her off instead of having her in his collection?

The door opened, and one of Sage's least favorite people in the world waltzed into the room. Queen Narua, the wife of the Potentate, held her head so high she could barely see where she was going.

"Something smells," she said. "Clean up, Anaya. My husband won't like that."

"Milady," Anaya bowed and moved to mop up the mess.

Narua turned her sight on Sage. Her painted lips pursed, and she looked her up and down. Sage had always thought Narua's beauty a weapon since she mostly wielded it to make her husband jealous. She and the Potentate played dangerous games of infidelity and neither of them was truly happy with each other or their other partners they brought between them.

"Welcome back, little one," Narua said. "You'll love the games we have planned."

"I want to go home," Sage's voice felt like sand.

"But you are home," Narua said. "For better or worse. This is where you belong."

No. No. It was impossible. Dalton wouldn't abandon her like this. She'd close her eyes and be back in his home. A place of complete safety, far from the walking puppets of the Potentate.

When she blinked, she was still standing in front of Narua.

The queen was ordering slaves to draw a bath. Sage called for the air. All the magic around her filled Sage's veins more and more. She expected to start floating, but she couldn't direct the power. Sage wished she could blow Narua off her feet and fly away.

She fell to her knees as the black spots overcame her vision. That's when she had to accept the truth. She was a prisoner, and there was no escape this time. Sage was once again a slave of the Potentate.

-------------------------------------------

The castle of Trabir was quiet, and Purvi wondered when her friends would return. She knew they'd gone to the Shuilhou, so she knew they might be out until sunset. Then they had to return because the Sorcerer's powers were too unpredictable in the Black. Purvi had never understood that, but Dalton insisted on that limit on his powers.

There was a crack. Purvi sat up as the Sorcerer appeared in front of her bruised and bloody. He collapsed to the floor, and she ran to help him.

"What happened?" She realized something. "Where is Sage?"

"The Potentate took her," Dalton said.

"What?" Purvi jumped to her feet. "We have to go after her."

"We can't," Dalton's voice was broken. "We've entered the trial of Trabir. I'm not allowed to break the rules."

"Then I'll go after her," Purvi said.

"You'll be captured, or worse," Dalton said. "And you'd interfere. You encouraged her to say I love you. The spirit says she must make the next move, but the Potentate has her. She won't be able to make it back to me."

Purvi winced. The Spirit's rules were strict and rigid, but every Sorcerer was released after someone committed themselves to its host in love and proved their devotion. If Sage had confessed her love, Dalton truly had to wait. He couldn't seek her out. Sage had to convince the spirit of her love, but if she was a brainwashed slave, she had no chance.

"It won't let you free her?" She asked.

"Not again," Dalton said. "I want to. Believe me, I do, but the spirit won't allow it."

"Then I'll gather my immortal aunt and uncles," Purvi said. "There must be something we can do. Perhaps there is another element who can rescue Sage. I know there are two in the south. Fire and land have awoken."

"The fire element is a dangerous man and the land element almost destroyed the western coast the last time he tried to use his abilities combatively," Dalton sighed. "We are at an impasse. There is nothing left for us to do."

"What about water?" Purvi asked. "Or we could ask Asher—"

Dalton held up his hand. "The spirit says I must remain."

"Then fight it," Pruvi said.

Dalton glowed and his voice magnified with a dozen others in tandem. "I'M TRYING!"

His body transformed into something large and furry. Claws dug into the floor. The spirit glowed and surrounded him like an aura. Purvi backed away. She'd never seen Dalton lose control of his curse like this. The magic within him was a hurricane of fury and nightmares.

It was almost like what her father had taught her once of aether, but that was impossible. She knew her family had divided that magic so it could never terrorize Alefia again. It had reincarnated in two hosts again.

For the first time in a long time, Purvi looked at the heavens and prayed. She knew that the maker of all was watching. She was an instrument of his works, though she'd never asked him for a thing directly.

A flash of light appeared before her and, like a goddess, her immortal aunt stepped out of it. Lesser mortals would tremble in the presence of Cerdwyn, the Dream Walker. The Farainians of the mountains feared her and called her a goddess of chaos. Purvi knew that her aunt's presence was a gift from the true god above.

"Oh dear," the Dream Walker assessed the Sorcerer's monstrous form. "The cycle is starting again. There's not much we can do, Purvi. This is Dalton's battle. His and his love's."

"But the Potentate took Sage," Purvi said. "She's under his horrific control. Dalton will be like this forever unless we free her."

Cerdwyn's sliver eyes glowed brightly. "This magic can only be fixed by the elements, and their current incarnations are not ready for such a task. Things will fall into place. The Potentate is a greedy man. The last person who kept an element captive suffered greatly for that mistake."

"Then what do we do?" Purvi asked.

"The only thing we can," Cerdwyn said. "We wait with hope."

"To know how it ends

and still begin to sing it again 

as if it might turn out this time." 

-- Road to Hell Reprise Hadestown

And now we wait. Thank you so much for reading. It really does mean the world to me. Drop me a line if you liked this story if you want to see more of Sage.-- Eliana Hale