On a whim, Rowan lifted a hand toward the nearest strands of energy as they unfurled toward him. The magic of his sacrifice responded to the question that shaped his song, twining into a single, shimmering thread, finer than spider silk and brighter than gold.
He sang more fervently, fingers outstretched, willing the thread to come to him but not actually expecting it to do so. His heart thudded with excitement as it undulated slowly in midair, inching closer and closer with each turn of his melody until it brushed against his fingertip.
A shiver rippled down Rowan's spine as his own magic flowed into him from outside of his body through the connection of that gossamer thread. His voice strained under the sudden weight of the magic it wasn't prepared to hold, but he wouldn't let it break. Not until he saw what else was possible.
Uh oh. Wren has been naughty, hasn't he. Maybe that's why he hasn't come to visit yet. He's afraid of what Rowan will do to him. Or maybe he's just afraid of Rowan vanishing again...