The Chronicle of the Obsidian Bloodline

Previously

…As Thorne burst through the trees, his face contorted with rage, I opened my eyes. The air around the oak seemed to shimmer, and a faint, pulsing light emanated from the obsidian shard in my hand. I didn't know what I was doing, only that I had to protect the journal, had to protect the legacy of the Obsidian Bloodline. The echoes of the first, who had sung with the land, resonated within me. And for the first time, I felt a flicker of the strength Lyra had written about, a strength born not of command, but of belonging. The night was deep, and the chase had just begun.