A White So Red

by Krystle Jones

  Via never relented, slicing at her with quick, precise moves. Natalia deflected the attacks, flicking them aside with her sword. Via took a swing at her ribs. She knew her sword wouldn’t make it in time the moment she turned to block. Instinctively, she raised her arm and braced herself for the explosion of pain that was to follow.

  Via’s sword came down. An inch before it would have hit Natalia’s forearm, it met with a round circle of red light, which flared up upon contact, perfectly outlined. It sparked as the sword grinded against it, Via gritting her teeth as she tried to cut through. At last, she lifted up and Natalia dropped her arm, the shield fading away as she did.

  “Brilliant,” Via said, a wide smile on her face. Faster than lightning, she whipped out a dagger and launched it at Natalia. Natalia sucked in a tight breath, her heart leaping to her throat as she turned her body at the last second. Instead of embedding itself in her shoulder, the knife merely nicked her on the arm.

  “Ouch!” Natalia said, examining the cut on her upper arm. “Do you mind?”

  “Rule number one,” Via said, “never drop your guard.”

  Caspar started forward, drawing his rapier, but Natalia held out her arm. “No! She’s right. I was reckless.” She glanced at the wound. The bleeding had slowed, but the cut hadn’t sealed completely.

  “Heal it,” Via said.

  Natalia remembered when she first met Via, how her hands hovered over her broken fingers and had made them whole again. That night seemed so long ago, like another lifetime.

  “How?” Natalia asked.

  Warmth spread through her shoulder as Caspar laid his hand there, squeezing gently. “Remember that night in the meadow, by the pond?” he asked. “That rose was dead until you healed it.”

  The memory of the silver melting away from the petals, of their scarlet discs unfurling as the stem regained its strength, replayed itself in her mind’s eye.

  “Healing magic is more difficult because when you heal someone, you’re giving a part of yourself over to them,” Via said. “In other words, you’re giving up a part of your life.”

  Natalia stared at her. “So whenever you heal someone, you’re literally killing yourself?”

  “Nothing as drastic as all that. More like letting them borrow your energy for a while, until you can regenerate it.”

  Intrigued and anxious to learn as much as she could, Natalia pulled up the bloodied sleeve, exposing the wound. It was starting to crust over. Gingerly laying a hand on it, she closed her eyes, trying to shut out the white noise in the room. Inside the tomb of her mind, the sounds magnified. The beating of her heart became a mighty drum, the flickering of the fireplace an angry hiss as the air pulled and pried its hair of flame. The sounds grew louder and louder, shoving back every time she attempted to push them away. Her hand quivered as her resolve crumbled, and she withdrew it with a growl. “It’s useless,” she said. “My concentration’s shot.”

  “The Queen won’t hesitate to take advantage of you when you’re weakened,” Via said, voice hard and matter-of-fact.

  Natalia drew a breath, preparing to snap at her because she was tired and edgy, but her anger vanished with a heavy sigh. “I know. I need to better prepare myself, mentally.”

  “Why not start now?” Caspar asked, walking over to the wall and prying the knife free. “You said so yourself we don’t have any time to spare. Maybe all you need is a little extra incentive to try.”

  He placed the tip of the knife to the inside of his wrist.

  “What are you doing?” Natalia asked, confused.

  “Forcing you to act.”

  He plunged the knife in his flesh, his jaw flexing, and dug the blade straight back, creating a thin, deep line several inches long.

  The sword slipped from Natalia’s grasp. “What have you done?” she shrieked, hurrying to him as he dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor in a bloody mess as Caspar staggered backward, blood pouring through the open wound and draining down his fingertips.

  “If you want to save me,” he said, a little breathlessly, “then you’ll have to heal me.”

  Natalia stared wide-eyed at the wound in open horror. “Via, heal him!”

  “I cannot,” she said, shaking her head. “My powers are all but gone.”

  Terror seized Natalia as Caspar crumpled to the ground, looking more ashen. She fell to her knees in front of him, grabbing his face in her hands. His skin was cool and clammy. “Caspar,” she said, holding up his head as he swayed. “I’m going to help you, all right?”

  He chuckled and gave her a dizzy smile. His eyes looked misty, as if he couldn’t quite focus on her. “Have I ever told you,” he said, “how beautiful you are?”

  “Now’s not the time for flirting and idle flattery,” Natalia said, laying her hands on his wrist. Her voice shook when she spoke, probably from the rattling sensation coming from her body. Hot, wet blood pooled between the creases of her fingers as she pressed, focusing all her energy into the wound. “Heal,” she whispered fiercely, staring down at the gash and daring it to do otherwise. “Heal, damn you.”

  Light flared in her fingers, casting a red circle around them. Energy built up in her arms, trailing down her wrists and then into her hands, draining from her fingertips into the wound.

  Caspar gasped, wincing as the glow intensified.

  Her gaze was fixed firmly on her hands while that bright red light darkened everything around them. In her mind’s eye, she saw his flesh closing up, felt the tightening sensation as his severed tendons wove back together and flexed. When she felt him tense, she pushed down on his arm, holding him still.

  The skin firmed and the light faded, leaving the room looking somehow darker than it had before. Exhaustion crept over her, tugging at her mind and making her edgier. She sat back on her heels, throwing a hand against the floor and catching herself before she could tumble sideways. “Wow,” she breathed.

  Caspar was eyeing his arm as if it were an alien specimen. “Yes,” he murmured, “wow.”

  At the sound of his voice, anger, hot and all consuming, roared to life inside her. She raised her hand, growling.

  Caspar’s eyes had only enough time to flicker up before her palm flew across his face, the sound of flesh pummeling flesh reverberating in the stark stillness. His head jerked sideways, driven by the force of her blow, and for a moment he sat there, stunned.

  She didn’t know why, but she was panting. A thousand things came to mind that she wanted to say to him, but somehow they failed her when she tried to put them into words. She had never been so angry with anyone in her life.

  “I need some air,” Natalia said, rising. The weight of the growing tension around her was becoming overbearing.

  “You can’t go outside,” Caspar said, his voice a bit scratchy. He had one hand up, covering the rising welt on his face. “More of those demonic ravens could be lurking in the shadows.”

  “I don’t care!” Natalia screamed.

  Via’s mouth opened slightly, her eyes widening. Caspar stared at her, dumbstruck.

  Clenching her fists, Natalia whirled and stalked toward the front entrance, kicking pieces of the demolished door on her way out.

  The outside air was cold and moist, a welcome contrast to her burning face. She inhaled a big lungful, letting it cool her down from the inside out. The rain had stopped, and the sky was still light though only barely, meaning it must be sometime over in the evening.

  Nervous energy sizzled within her, and standing still was next to impossible. She paced back and forth in front of the cottage. She walked from the well back to the door again, thinking and trying to forget the image of Caspar dying on the floor in front of her while she watched, feeling powerless to stop it.

  Quiet footsteps approached from behind, and she turned.

  Caspar stood there, his face determined though his eyes were wary. “Hi,” he said dumbly.

  “Hi,” she said, keeping him at bay with the distance in her eyes. She didn’t go
to him, though her arms longed to wrap around his neck and pull him as close as she could.

  Caspar’s eyes looked all around, as if searching for an answer or something to say. “Snow –”

  “Why did you do such a rash, idiotic thing?” she cried.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, taking a step closer. “I was only trying to help draw out your powers.”

  She stepped back and he stopped. “By taking your own life?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Yes, but at what cost?” she yelled. “Slitting your wrist to prove a point was an incredibly foolish thing to do.”

  He studied her face, eyes growing thoughtful. “You were afraid.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “I was terrified.”

  That slow, sloppy grin returned, and the anger inside her exploded. “You are such an arrogant –”

  “Handsome,” he interjected.

  “ – impossible –”

  “Charming.”

  “ – self-centered twit!”

  She stepped closer, shoving him on the last word. He caught her wrists, pulling her close enough for her to smell the sweat dried on his skin. His sleeve was rolled back, the cut nowhere to be seen.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. When she struggled to free herself, he tightened his grip. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, speaking into her hair.

  Her heart was beating fast as she froze, her body rigid against his. For several long seconds neither of them moved, though she could feel the thud of his heart through his shirt, swift as her own.

  “I never, ever meant to hurt you in any way,” he murmured. “And for that I am truly sorry.”

  She smirked half-heartedly. “You said that already.”

  “I’ll say it again, if it will make things right between us.”

  She shook her head, pulling back so she could look him in the eyes.

  “It’s not necessary,” she half-whispered.

  Warmth built in her cheeks, spreading through her face and into her chest. The sun was rapidly setting, tinting the world in shades of blue and gray. Somehow, despite the shadows or maybe because of them, his eyes seemed greener.

  “Promise me,” she said, “you’ll never do something like that again.”

  “I promise,” he said instantly.

  His eyes held her captive, smoldering with an emotion she couldn’t identify. He swallowed hard, the muscles around his mouth tightening.

  “There’s… something I wanted to tell you,” he said.

  She held her breath, her heart skipping a beat, waiting for those next words but they never came.

  The night was split by an ear-shattering wail in the distance, the type of agonized sound an injured animal might make, right before pain erupted all over her body, sending her to her knees.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Blood Sacrifice

  White-hot slivers of fire burned through her senses, rendering her blind and deaf for a few terrifying seconds. She fell to the ground, pitching forward and catching her weight with her palms as she struggled to hold onto consciousness. She didn’t realize Caspar was yelling at her until the sound of his voice broke through the ringing in her ears, dull at first and then growing louder as the pain died away.

  “Snow!” His hands were on her shoulders. She opened her eyes, or maybe they had been open and she couldn’t see him past the white screen of pain distorting her vision. His face came into view, concern pinching his eyes. “What’s wrong? Can you hear me?”

  Though the majority of the pain was gone, what was left made her feel like she had burned herself all over, like a blanket hot as fire had lain across her, making her skin feel crackled and cold because it was so hot. The fact he was speaking to her took a moment to register because she felt so disoriented. “What was that?” she rasped, trying to stand.

  He grabbed her by the arm, hauling her up. After she was on her feet, his hand remained, holding her steady. “Did you hear it?” he asked, looking past her and scanning the darkening woods.

  “How could anyone not?” She glanced over her shoulder. The forest loomed behind her, the metallic branches suddenly looking sharper.

  “Help…”

  The voice was unlike anything she had ever heard. It was similar to Midnight’s in its airiness and musical quality, but it was startlingly different in that it wasn’t so much using words as feelings. “I feel it,” she said. “I can feel his pain.”

  “What?” Caspar asked, glancing at her sharply. “What are you talking about?”

  “Someone’s hurt badly,” she said breathlessly. “I need to go to them.”

  Caspar pulled her closer. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  “Help… please…”

  It hurt to breathe. Sucking in a strangled breath, she squeezed her eyes shut, as if in doing so she could shut out the pain. But it wouldn’t leave. It was everywhere, clawing and biting and gnawing her insides out.

  “What is it?” Caspar asked. “Snow, you’re scaring me. What’s happening?”

  Before she could answer, another wave of pain punched her in the gut, knocking the breath right out of her.

  Caspar caught her as she doubled over, gasping. “God in heaven, Snow. Let’s get you inside before –”

  The scream came again. This time she opened her mouth, rearing her head back and screaming along with it. “It’s – it’s ripping me apart!”

  “What are you talking about?” Caspar asked, examining her frantically. “I can’t find anything –”

  It was too much. Her new powers, the stranger dying in the woods, Caspar’s yelling, all of it. Fighting more out of instinct than with logic, she knocked Caspar to the side and bolted toward the forest.

  “Wait!” he shouted, but she barely heard him. All that mattered was that she run, as hard and as fast as she could, to the source of her agony.

  Footsteps pounded after her, fueling her pace. She tore through the brush, following the direction of the screams. If she could help whoever it was, then this pain – this torture – would stop. It needed to stop, had to stop. She couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything besides it.

  “Snow!” Caspar called. “Stop!”

  She should have listened. Any sane person would have, when it sounded like hell itself had opened up right inside the woods. The screams grew louder, the pain more intense as she neared their source. It was so dark she didn’t see the bloodied arm lying across the ground until the toe of her boot caught it and she stumbled. Splaying her arms, she corrected her balance and spun around, searching the ground for the limb that had tripped her. Long, slender fingers that looked human but with more joints twitched as blood dripped from his tenderized blue flesh. Her eyes traced the long arm all the way down to the body of what resembled a man, only he was taller and narrower. A face that was probably once elegant but now marred by scratches stared back at her through eyes so blue they shamed the sky. He was unlike any creature she had ever seen. Despite his alien appearance, he was captivating, lovely in an otherworldly way.

  Something shimmered below him. Iridescent wings running the full length of his body were crumpled beneath him.

  “You’re one of the Fey,” she said, amazed.

  He shuddered, a silent plea in his eyes. “It… it…”

  She knelt next to him. Slash marks marred his green tunic, which was soaked with blood in places.

  “We have to get you out of here,” she said, leaning over and reaching for his shoulders.

  His hand flashed up, clamping onto her wrist with surprising force for such a frail-looking creature. “It’s… it’s a…”

  She stared at him. “What?”

  Blood spluttered over his bottom lip. “… wolf…. a wolf.”

  The meaning sunk in a fraction of a second too late. The air shifted behind her, carrying with it the stench of rotting flesh. She turned her head at the sound of heavy breathing. Rows of blood-soaked teeth were only a few inches from her face.<
br />
  “We meet again.” The wolf growled, sniffing her. “Something’s changed about you. You’re stronger now.”

  He stepped in a patch of moonlight, and Natalia’s entire body locked up with fear and shock. He looked nothing like the great black wolf she had seen before. It was more like watching an animated skeleton. His skin was sunken in around his bones, exposing his ribcage, and at some places the bones poked through the skin altogether. Messy holes where his skin had rotted off dripped blood down his sides.

  Swallowing, she forced herself to find her voice, locking eyes with the wolf’s glowing gaze. “Or perhaps you’re imagining things. You look a little worse for wear.”

  “I can still see your aura. It could rival the sun.” A bloody tongue ran over his skeletal muzzle. “Your power could last me a small eternity. I can’t wait to feast on your soul.”

  Rose came to her mind, the day Natalia gave her the ribbons she always wore in her corset. Her baby sister’s face was smiling, the brightest she had seen it.

  “Be my shield, Rose,” Natalia murmured.

  The wolf turned his head, narrowing his terrible violet eyes. “What did you say?”

  Her eyes turned to steel.

  “I said I’m going to destroy you.”

  Gathering her energy in her fingertips, she raised her arms. Her hands lit up, red as coals, and the wolf growled at her as she brought her arms down and shoved him back with a burst of red light. His claws dug into the soil, slowing his momentum.

  “Someone has been teaching you the ways of offensive magic,” he said, circling her. “But I can smell your fear. And while you are afraid, your powers will be weakened.”

  “You’re lying,” Natalia said, standing. She stood between the faery and the wolf, as if shielding the Fey would keep him from dying.

  Nefrim flashed her a toothy grin. “Wolves never lie, child.”

  Natalia shifted her weight, lifting her leg so she could retrieve the dagger. The growing darkness made the wolf seem bigger somehow – and her knife that much smaller.

  “Snow!”