[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]
Matt squeezed his eyes shut, reaching in. Steady. She’s not going to leave you. This is the chance you both waited for and it will not be squandered, not after all this time. The deep, dark well of magic buried inside of him responded to his call, surging upward in a torrent he was barely able to get a grip on before it raged beyond his ability to control.
No, no. Focus.
For a few seconds, it was like trying to catch a stream of water with both hands and hang on, washing through his fingers and away. It shifted a few heartbeats later, his grip firming, then solidifying into something he could use, something that felt real.
Just hang on.
He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself even as he held onto his power. His senses reached for the thin connection between be and Hecate, the one that had been growing stronger day after day but now seemed too thin, too fragile.
Stay with me.
He followed that line, diving deeper. Shadows swallowed him and cold began to seep into his flesh, down deep to the bone. His teeth began to chatter but even the sense of that felt distant, nearly beyond his reach.
But he could feel her, and she was down deeper still.
Stay with me, mo chroí. Stay with me.
There were red lights in the darkness, tiny pinpricks in pairs, ones that grew larger and more defined the deeper he went, the nearer he got to her. Sounds began to echo in his ears, otherworldly and strange, not quite screams, not quite sobs, nor voices, but something different, something beyond his ability to adequately describe.
He knew those sounds, those voices from another when.
“You can’t keep her,” he whispered. “I won’t let you.”
He let his magic fill him like a vessel, then, as the faces of the dead came into focus, let it run over like a pot left to boil over.