by S A McClure
Iris’s hands shook as she considered the idea that Grandmother wasn’t infallible. There were times that she didn’t like her and was more than a little afraid of her, but there had been a comfort in knowing that she was the most powerful witch in the area. No one had ever dared to challenge her in all her time living with her.
“Please, please let me go,” Balkeen begged.
Grandmother cocked an eyebrow at Balkeen, her expression grim. Iris knew that look. She’d seen it all too many times just before she’d punished Emma for some small wrong-doing. Grandmother kept flexing her fist. It was one of her tells. She didn’t have that many, but the ones she did have meant a storm was brewing.
Where was Emma?
Iris sagged against one of the walls. A sharp pain split her skull, like a dagger being shoved deep into her brain. She groaned. Sluggishly, she massaged her head with one of her hands, praying the ache would retreat.
Scratching sounds drew her attention to the wall behind Balkeen’s bed. Animals cowered in the corners of their cages. Their whimpering made it difficult for her to concentrate on what Grandmother was saying to Balkeen.
Grandmother dropped Balkeen to the floor with a resounding boom.
He spat blood as he glared up at her. Iris was surprised to see defiance in his eyes.
“Kill me and you won’t stand a chance against—,” he started to say.
Grandmother’s brow furrowed and her eyes blazed fiery gold as she lifted her hand towards the dwarf. A curl of smoke shifted into a flicker of light in the palm of her hand. The spark burst into a ball of blue and purple flames. Balkeen didn’t even have time to scream before the flames consumed him.
Iris stopped breathing. She desperately wanted to look away from the melted and charred skin, the singed hair, the scorched remnants of clothing. She wanted to rid herself of the stench of the burning body. But she couldn’t do it. The flames transfixed her in that spot.
“Filth,” Grandmother snarled, kicking the charred body with her boot.
She fixed her gaze on Iris, her lips curling into a vicious smile.
Iris shook her head.
“What did you do!” She stormed towards Grandmother, her jaw set in a hard line.
“He was a snake,” Grandmother replied coolly. Her eyes still blazed with their golden fire. They held not an ounce of remorse in them.
“He might have known who belonged to the coven,” Iris said. “He could have led us to Emma. He could have helped us!”
Grandmother cocked her head ever so slightly, but her expression remained stern, transfixed on Iris’s face.
“He had resources. He had money!” Iris swung her arm out toward his treasures. “How could you just kill him like that? He clearly knew who is behind the attacks! And you just… you just killed him!” Her voice steadily increased in volume until it rattled the sconces hanging from the walls.
She heaved in a breath.
“Are you done?” Grandmother asked.
Iris nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak again. Not when the anger was still coursing through her like wild fire. This was just one more thing to add to the already immense list of reasons to despise Grandmother. She didn’t know what she would do when she decided the list was finally long enough to take action.
Grandmother folded her arms over her chest and hobbled over to one of the cages lining the wall. Iris trailed her movements with angry eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but then abruptly closed it again.
For the first time, she noticed how silent the cavern had become. Where there had been the constant sound of animal sounds and whimpering there was now only nothing.
She squinted at one of the cages closest to her. Before, there had been a large snow tiger—like the ones found in the coldest part of Dramadoon—licking at one of its massive paws in the corner. Now, there was nothing.
No.
Not nothing. She stepped closer to the cage. If she hadn’t been looking, she would have missed it. Missed her. There, pressed against the wall furthest from the light was a small woman. She couldn’t have been more than Iris’s age. Her white-blonde hair clung to her face, where tears were still streaming down her cheeks. Her clothes were tattered, revealing the dirty body beneath them.
Iris whipped around until she was facing Grandmother.
“What is this?” she asked. Her voice shook. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the human forms crouching in the shadows of each of the caves. They had been animals before. She was sure of it.
“My hunch proved correct,” Grandmother responded.
Her voice sounded far away, as if she were thinking of other things. Iris turned back to the snow tiger turned girl beside her. She knelt until her face was eye-level with her.
“What’s your name?” she asked. Her voice sounded piqued, even to her own ears.
The caged girl said nothing, but pulled her knees up to her chest and locked her arms around them. She rocked back and forth.
“It’s ok,” Iris cooed.
The girl pressed her face into her narrow, bruised legs. Her slim shoulders shook. The nearly silent sound of sobs reached Iris and she ducked her head, trying to hide her own tears as they slid down her cheeks.
She rattled the cage’s bars, trying to break them. She felt so useless. She didn’t even know her name, but she desperately wanted to comfort her. To know that she wasn’t alone.
The girl didn’t look up again as her body continued to be wracked by her own sobs.
That was enough. She was tired of Grandmother’s lies and manipulations. Her eyes drifted towards the charred body. He had been close to telling them who was behind the attacks. She was sure of it. Anger and adrenaline coursed through her.
Iris turned on Grandmother and rushed across the room. She’d slammed into Grandmother’s frail form before she even realized what she was doing.
“What is this?” she hissed as she slammed her fist into Grandmother’s cheek. “What is this!”
She didn’t know how many times she struck Grandmother Rel. She lost track as she continued to land strike after strike after strike. Grandmother didn’t fight back. She just stared up at Iris, her golden eyes flickering with each impact.
A concussive pulse shoved Iris backwards, slamming her into the cavern wall. Her head cracked against hard stone and then she slid down the wall. Her eyes drooped shut just Grandmother advanced towards her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Iris
Iris was crumpled on the floor. Her entire body ached as she tried propping herself up on her elbows and knees. She collapsed before she had even moved more than a few inches. She groaned as her chin slammed against the cold, hard stone of the mountain lair.
Her mind was hazy. She could remember the smell of Balkeen’s burning body. She could see his hair curling into black smoke.
She pressed her hands over her ears as the first piercing screams registered. There were so many. Some high pitched, others more growls than screams. They were too loud.
Cold hands gripped her wrists. Hard nails dug into her skin. The heavy weight of someone pinning her to the ground took her breath away. She gasped for air. Her mind blanked. The screaming erupted again. The putrid scent of burning, melting flesh flared again.
A sharp smack across her cheek knocked her head against the stone. Bursts of white light filled her vision.
No.
She couldn’t let it end like this. She couldn’t.
Where was Emma? Where was she? Where was she?
She struggled against the weight, her eyes popping open.
“Iris,” Grandmother hissed.
Her foul-smelling breath nearly suffocated her. It was all she could take in. She struggled against Grandmother’s hold. She wriggled her body.
“Iris.”
The word was too calm. Too quiet. Too controlling. She pulled against the hands clasped around her wrists. She bucked her head, trying to catch Grandmother’s nose. None of it worked. She was trapped. Ther
e was no getting out of this. There was no escape.
“Iris,” Grandmother said, her eyes widening with concern. “Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay, Iris.”
More words registered, but they didn’t make sense. None of it made any sense. The burning. The flashing. The sense of destruction. Control
“Listen to me,” Grandmother cooed.
Iris stopped struggling and the hold on her wrists loosened. She dropped her head to the ground. Her eyes closed. The rapid thrumming of her heart was deafening.
“I promise I can help you,” Grandmother whispered.
Iris’s eyes flew open. She shoved Grandmother from her chest as she sat up and looked towards the spot where Balkeen had been burned. He should’ve been a pool of melted fat and skin and charred bones.
But he wasn’t.
He was alive and well and staring at them with wide eyes.
“What—” she began to say. Her jaw dropped as she peered at Balkeen. There was no sign of physical harm on his body. None.
“Calm down, Iris,” Grandmother whispered again. She stroked Iris’s mass of dark hair. Her nails caught on the tangles and Iris yelped in surprised pain.
The cages. The animals that were actually humans.
She looked towards where the girl had been. The icy blue stare of a snow tiger met her gaze.
She shuddered. It had been real, hadn’t it? She’d seen those things. She’d attacked Grandmother, hadn’t she?
“What happened?” Her voice cracked on each word.
Grandmother cocked an eyebrow at her. “You had a seizure.”
No. That wasn’t right. Was it? She wasn’t sure. She pounded her hand against her head trying to remember. To think. Her thoughts came sluggishly. They rattled through her mind in darkness, as if a sheet had been placed over them, hiding their truths.
“I didn’t,” she said.
“I told you this would happen,” Balkeen said gruffly. “Didn’t I, Myrella? I told you when you took her in that you should have given her to me to care for.”
Grandmother snarled at him, and he snapped his mouth shut.
Iris looked from Balkeen to the witch.
“Tell me what’s going on, Grandmother,” she commanded as she pushed herself from the ground. She wobbled slightly as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Grandmother raised both of her hands. “Let me strike a bargain with you.”
“A bargain?” Iris repeated incredulously. She rubbed the back of her head, her fingers coming away wet with blood. She had seen Grandmother kill Balkeen and the animals turn into humans, hadn’t she? She shook her head, choosing to focus on Grandmother’s words as the shadows swelled into a wall just as she glimpsed a silver of light in the darkness. “And what kind of a bargain do you think I would ever make with you?” she asked icily.
“One that will explain everything to you and save your sister.”
Iris gasped. She wanted to know Grandmother’s secrets.
She needed to understand her powers.
Save your sister. The words crept through her mind like molasses on a winter day. She couldn’t sense Emma anymore. Every time she thought about her sister, she was only met with a wall of ice. Normally, she could feel her sister’s warmth. Her strength. But there was nothing.
The realization sent a chill down her spine.
“I’m listening,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She took a long, shuddering breath as she waited for Grandmother to continue.
“You are so, so special, Iris,” Grandmother said.
She rolled her eyes. She’d had enough of Grandmother’s placating trumpery.
“I knew when I found you in the forest all those years ago that your parents had made the gravest mistake of their lives. You were so gifted. More gifted than anyone I had ever met before.”
“And?” Iris said, waving her hands in frustration. “Get to the point.”
Grandmother’s wrinkled lips curled upwards. Only a crazy, evil old woman like this witch would smirk at being scolded.
“What I’m trying to say is that there will always be those who seek to use your abilities for their personal gain. There is a general consensus among the covens that being a Dreamwalker is rare and powerful enough to be dangerous. But, you are also a Spellbreaker.”
There it was again. The word the evil witch that bore her sister’s face and harbored crimson eyes had called her. An abomination.
“And what, exactly, does that mean?”
“You can see the spells placed on people. You can see the threads of how to break them. Even spells that are supposed to be unbreakable will unravel at your command.”
Iris shifted uncomfortably on the ground. That ability didn’t sound too bad. Sure, it was powerful, but abomination worthy? She didn’t think so.
“Why does the coven I saw in my dream want to kill me? Why did they put me on trial?”
“I just told you. Your abilities are dangerous.”
“But I’m not.”
Grandmother shrugged.
“I’m not!” Iris repeated, exasperated.
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Iris focused on her breathing, trying to calm the rush of thoughts and words pouring through her like sand. She felt gritty. Unclean. But dangerous? It was not the type of word she would use to describe herself.
She sighed heavily. “What do you want?”
“I need you to go back into the dream world. I need you to find the witch who was wearing you sister’s face. I need you to see who she really is.”
Iris sucked in a surprised breath. Grandmother couldn’t be serious. She’d nearly died the first time. There was no way she was putting herself back in that kind of risk again.
“No.”
Grandmother shrugged, though Iris thought she could detect a hint of tension in her movements.
“That’s your decision. And you’ll have to live with it. But, how do you think Emma will feel, when she finds out you could have saved her but chose not to?”
“What are you talking about?” Iris asked. Her voice was cold, controlled.
“Oh,” Grandmother said, a full-blown smile stretching across her face. “It’s just that Balkeen’s little ravens have told him that Emma’s out there, slowly bleeding to death.”
Her breath hitched. It couldn’t be true. This was just another one of Grandmother’s games. It had to be.
The scent of his charred skin wafted through her memory. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the vision. She didn’t know if it was real or not. She didn’t trust herself to tell the difference. Not anymore.
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
“No, I don’t suppose you would,” Grandmother replied. Her voice was smooth. It slid over Iris like butter. It was just as slimy.
“Why do you need to know the witch’s identity so much?” Iris hissed through clenched teeth. It took everything in her will power to stop herself from pouncing on the old hag the way she had in her vision.
Grandmother glanced at Balkeen, who was still groveling on the floor, and shrugged again. “No one attempts to take me out and gets away with it. And since our little friend over here has been uncooperative so far in telling me who the witch is that he’s been working with, I will just have to use other methods of getting what I want.”
“Save Emma first and I promise that I’ll go back to that place,” Iris said. Her first priority was finding her sister. Nothing else mattered.
Grandmother tapped a nail on her wrinkled cheek, a sly smile spreading across her face. Iris hated it when Grandmother got into these kinds of moods. Once the old hag had an idea in her head, she would stop at nothing to achieve it. She’d always been this way. It was terrifying. She didn’t care who she hurt or in what ways, as long as she got what she wanted.
“No,” she said.
“What?” Iris said. Disbelief swelled within her. This could not be happening. “What do you mean no
?”
“I mean no. No, I will not help you find Emma until after I have a name. No, there is no room for negotiation in this matter. No, you will not win this one. I’ve been too lenient with you.” She sniffed. “I’ve ruined you, really.”
Iris couldn’t help herself. She stomped her foot and screamed. If what Grandmother had said was true, if Emma really were bleeding out, if there was even a chance that her sister could die, she couldn’t waste time going on a magical witch hunt.
Grandmother’s smile widened. “So, what will it be, dear one?”
Iris turned on her. She bared her teeth, a snarl erupting from her. She wasn’t as brave as her sister. She wasn’t as strong. She’d always been the one who bowed to Grandmother. Even in her moments of doubt, she’d chosen to believe that Grandmother wanted what was best for her and Emma. She’d trusted her.
That trust was slowly fading into the abyss.
What would Emma do?
Her sister would fight back. She always had. She’d always defended her, even if it went against her own best interest to do so. Now, it was her turn.
“Fine,” she hissed. “I’ll look for Emma on my own.”
Grandmother laughed. “You’ll never find her in time.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said as she began stalking towards the door.
In truth, she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She didn’t know where to start first. She didn’t know how to defend herself if she got into trouble. All she knew was that she needed to find Emma. Stop the bleeding. Keep her alive.
“Even if you do manage to find her in time, it won’t be enough,” Grandmother called after her.
Iris spun on her heel and glared at Grandmother.
“What. Do. You. Mean?” she enunciated each word as if they were the only things keeping her grounded.
“Didn’t you notice all the petrified animals on our walk to this part of the mountain?” Grandmother asked, stilling that nail on her cheek.
Iris stared at her. She didn’t say a word. She just waited for Grandmother to continue.
“I have it on good authority that a cockatrice was set loose on this place. I would wager anything that she sustained her injuries from the beast.”