by S A McClure
She turned to tell him that she might just take him up on that offer, but he was already gone.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Iris
Iris busied herself with helping those she had saved remember who they were. Her goal was to reunite them with their families. For some of them, that would be possible. But for others, it was becoming increasingly apparent that they had been trapped in their animal forms for hundreds of years. Everyone they knew—everyone they loved—would be dead. There was no going back for them.
No matter how busy she was, thoughts of Liam were ever present at the back of her mind. She would find herself imagining his silver-blue eyes staring at her with such sorrow that it nearly broke her heart. She felt his strong arms wrap around her waist and tug her closer to his side. She smelled his distinct amber and honey scent.
No matter what she felt or saw or smelled, none of it mattered. Every thought of him ended with his cold, blank gaze as he took Grandmother’s arm and went away with her. He’d chosen the witch over her. He’d abandoned her to die in the ice and snow.
And he hadn’t even spared a glance back at her to let her know that he cared.
She ground her teeth as she tried to force herself to stop thinking about him. The memory of him was like a drug. She hungered for more. She longed for him to return to her. She’d been too afraid to enter the dreamworld after her encounter with the silver skull witch to search for him. In truth, she wasn’t sure he’d find her there. She wasn’t sure he’d want to find her.
“I can tell you about him, if you’d like,” a voice said from behind her.
She spun to find Micah standing in the doorway to the room she’d selected in Balkeen’s lair. His face was sullen as he slunk into the room and collapsed into the overstuffed armchair she’d placed close to the fire. He’d visited her a lot over the past few days.
His memories, unlike those of some of his peers, were coming back quickly the longer he spent time with her delving into his past. So far, they’d discovered that he had been a Szarmian prince, but they weren’t sure when. There wasn’t enough context in his memories. They just knew that he was not the heir. He’d been allowed too many freedoms for that.
“Tell me about who?” she asked, feigning indifference.
She turned her back to him, busying herself with shelving books on the old case she’d found and drug into her quarters. Emma had help her lug the countless books she’d discovered stashed throughout the lair to her room.
He sighed loudly, and she turned to face.
He had one eyebrow cocked at her, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been moping around here. You saved everyone here from a fate worse than death. You did that,” he said.
She shook her head. It didn’t mean anything. Not really. They’d escaped Grandmother’s grasp just to end up in a new form of terror: having a coven of witch’s seeking their death.
He shook his head. “Liam and I were friends, you know. I mean, we didn’t always get along, but we were turned around the same time. We’ve been through a lot together and I can tell you one thing: he would not have chosen Myrella Dimata over you.”
“But he did—”
He held up his hand, indicating for her to stop.
“I can’t believe that my friend, who fought to protect you even after he’d been explicitly commanded not to, would choose that old hag over you. Not unless he’d been placed under some sort of spell.”
Iris’s shook her head. It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered this. Of course, she had. But, she hadn’t felt the cord of power stretching from him to Grandmother. She hadn’t seen the tether of magic that all spells had.
She clenched her hands.
“No,” she said, turning away from Micah again. “You can’t make me feel better about this, Micah. He made his choice. It just wasn’t me.”
They remained in silence for several moments. The only sound between them was the crackling fire. Iris breathed heavily. There was no point in hoping. She’d told herself this so many times over the past few days that she’d honestly lost count of their number. It was true now as it was the first time she’d said it to herself.
Liam had chosen Grandmother. He’d made his choice. He didn’t love her.
She just needed to figure out a way to accept this truth.
“How I feel about Liam is the least of our problems,” she said, coming over to sit in the chair opposite Micah. “There’s still the threat of the coven that’s been hunting not just Grandmother, but also me.”
Micah tapped his chin, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated her words. They’d talked extensively about the mark she’d seen on the crimson-eyed witch’s body. So far, neither he nor any of the other people she’d saved from Balkeen’s spell remembered a coven seeking Balkeen’s aid in disposing of Grandmother.
“If you think they’re a threat, then we shouldn’t stay here. It’s too risky.”
They’d had this exact argument the night before—and the night before that.
“You know we can’t leave right now. Where would all the others go? Some of them were cursed for so long that their families aren’t alive anymore. Others still don’t remember who they are. Are we just supposed to send them out into the winter to fend for themselves?”
She knew her tone was scolding, but she didn’t care. She was tired of people only looking out for themselves.
He twiddled his thumbs. She’d learned that this was a tell-tale sign that he had something he wanted to say, but wasn’t sure how to broach the topic with her.
“Just spit it out,” she commanded. She rolled her eyes at him. At this point, he should be used to telling her everything that was on his mind.
“I think I may know a place we can go.”
Her hands dropped from her lap. She stared at him. They’d had so many discussions about where to do, what their options were. She cocked her head at him.
“And you’re just telling me about this now?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I didn’t remember the spot until this afternoon.”
“Okay,” she said. Heat crept up her neck. If they left, would Liam be able to find them?
She hated herself for coming back to this thought. It was the same one that had been plaguing her for days. What if she’d been wrong about there not being a spell put on him? What if he really did love her? What if he came back for her? She knew now how confusing it was for them to be returned to their human form. He might have been dazed. He might not have known what he was doing.
“I understand why you have your doubts, Iris,” Micha said. “I do.”
Iris rolled her eyes at him.
He cleared his throat and continued. “I know you think that Liam might come back here to find you. But you know what will happen if he does. We’re lucky Myrella hasn’t tried to contact you yet. We’re lucky we’ve been given this reprieve. I don’t know why she took him, Iris. I can’t answer that for you. But, she won’t just let him leave. If I remember one thing about my life spent as a wolf, it was that she was a force to be reckoned with. She does not take losing well.”
Iris nodded. She already knew this about the woman who had raised her. There had been times when she’d thought Grandmother was kind, almost loving. But those moments were far outweighed by the cruelty she had showed to both her and her sister.
“It just doesn’t make sense,” she said. “Why did he leave with her? I couldn’t have just imagined the way he felt about me. It…”
She paused. She hadn’t explicitly told Micah about her feelings concerning Liam before. Somehow, he’d just known. He seemed to know a lot of things.
“It was real.” His words were soft.
Iris glanced up at him. His hazel eyes carried a sadness in them that only one who has lost someone they loved deeply could understand.
She nodded. “It was.”
“Then you have to keep trusting that he’ll come back to you. L
iam is a fighter. I don’t know why he would have gone with the witch, but if he did, he must have had a reason.”
They sat in silence for a moment. It was comfortable, like it always was between them.
“I want him to come back to us just as much as you do,” he said. “But we can’t put ourselves and everyone who trusts us to take care of them in danger. We can’t stay here, Iris. There are too many threats that know this location.”
He was right. She’d known he was right the first time he’d broached the subject of leaving the lair. It had just taken her this long to come to admit it to herself.
“Tell me more about this secret place we can hide,” she said.
It’d only been three days since Micah and Iris had decided staying in Balkeen’s lair was too perilous and they had already organized their departure from the mountains. In total, there were twelve people traveling with them. The rest of Balkeen’s captives had elected to venture out on their own when Iris had told them of the real threat they would face by staying with her and her sister. They’d divvied up the gold and jewels they’d found in his lair and given each of the groups that left enough supplies to last a month.
Iris could only hope they would be safe as they continued to remember their previous lives.
She was just packing up the last of her clothing and selecting the books she would take with her when there was a sharp knock on her bedroom door. Emma entered without waiting for a response.
“I don’t think we can trust him,” she said, her voice quivering. She clasped Iris’s hands as she spoke. Her eyes were lined with silver.
“You never cry,” Iris said.
Emma shrugged.
“I’m scared, Iris. I still can’t remember anything that happened to us. I know you’ve told me a hundred times, but it still feels more like a terrible nightmare than reality.” She looked down at their clasped hands. “I don’t trust him, Iris.”
Emma still didn’t see the way he looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention.
“He means us no harm,” Iris said.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I trust him, Emma. And you should too. He saved your life countless enough times.”
Iris’s gut wrenched the moment the words left her lips. She hated that her sister couldn’t seem to grasp what had happened to them. She hated that she was forced to be the strong one—the fighter. She had been so used to leaning on Emma’s strength that, now that the tables were reversed, she almost felt a grudge towards her sister’s ignorance.
Emma’s face was contorted into an expression of pure shock and betrayal.
“I’m sorry,” Iris whispered, but it was already too late.
“I can’t make myself remember, Iris. Just like I can’t make myself trust him. He’s a Szarmian. One day, when you least expect it, he will turn on us. I just hope that we’re strong enough to fight him when the time comes.”
“I don’t think he will betray us, Emma.”
It was all she could think to say.
“Fine,” she scoffed. “I’ll go with you. I’ll follow you, wherever you lead. But I want it go on record that I think this is a bad idea.”
Iris couldn’t help but smile at her sister’s tone. Even when she was worried and angry there was a jauntiness to her sister that she admired.
Emma shook her head, her eyes flashing. She turned and strode from the room without another word or glance between them. Iris felt her sister’s departure creep across her like the winter wind. She loved her sister. She would fight for her sister. She could protect her with every last breath she had in her. She already had. But, she would not let Emma disparage Micah just because she was afraid of what he was.
Szarmian or not, he loved her sister. He had been willing to die to protect her. He nearly had on more than one occasion. She just wished Emma could remember that—and that she could remember how she had felt about Mr. Wolf instead of the man he had turned into.
She sank into the chair by her fire. All the frustration and fear and anxiety that had been building in her erupted in a torrent of tears. She bent her head down, cradling her knees on her chest as she let herself cry.
By the time she was done, her head ached and her body felt weak. She missed her time spent working on potions and idling away in the garden on warm spring days. She missed the familiarity of Grandmother’s home. And of her sister’s smile when she returned to the cottage after a long day of hunting in the woods. They’d lost so much over the past few weeks.
And for what?
Some rivalry between Grandmother and a coven Iris had never met before. She ground the heels of her hands into her eyes as she tried to make herself stop crying. There wasn’t any point to it. It wouldn’t change anything.
This was their new reality.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Iris
It was their spot.
Firebugs danced in the trees, guiding Iris through the winding paths of the forest. Somewhere, in the distance, a mountain river gurgled. It was warm here. No snow or ice or blistering wind interrupted her as she crept through the brush. The delicate scents of wild flowers filled the air.
But he wasn’t there.
She peered up at the starlit sky. She had thought—she had wanted to believe—that he would find her in the dreamworld. If he had loved her at all, he would have sought her out.
But he wasn’t there.
Grandmother had warned her not to fall in love with him. She had told her to not follow him into the abyss. She had counseled her to stay away from the mysterious boy in the woods.
She had been right.
Loving Liam had been a mistake. Risking everything for him had been a mistake. There were so many things she needed to do. There were so many things she wanted to achieve. She hadn’t done them yet.
“I will rise up,” she whispered.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she lifted her face to the glow of the sister moons. Their light blotted out the stars in the heavens. They seemed to call to her. To whisper secrets on the wind as it caressed her cheeks and dried her tears.
“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep hoping that you’ll come back to me.”
A sense of calm settled on her as she continued to peer in to the night sky. All the worry she’d been carrying since Liam had left with Grandmother slowly melted away. She knew she couldn’t hold onto him forever. He’d made his choice and it hadn’t been her.
But there was something she could do to continue pushing forward. She could admit what she was. She could finally say that she was a witch. A dreamwalker.
A spellbreaker.
The silver skull coven was wrong. She wasn’t an abomination. She was good. She wanted to use her powers to save those who couldn’t save themselves. She might fail. She might die in the process. She might not even make it to the haven Micah had described to her.
None of that mattered.
She was a spellbreaker.
And she could save the world.
The End.
The story continues in Starseeker…
More Books by S.A. McClure
The Valka Chronicles
Spellbreaker
Starseeker
Dreamwalker (coming soon)
Broken Prophecies Series
Kilian: A Broken Prophecies Story
Keepers of the Light
Destroyers of the Light
Harbinger of the Light (coming soon)
Apprentice’s Wings
Wings of Gold & Snow
Wings of Shadow & Wrath (coming soon)
Wings of Steel & Valor (coming soon)
About the Author
S.A. McClure is an avid lover of all things fantasy and science-fiction. A self-proclaimed nerd, S.A. enjoys attending comic cons, seeing new movies, and discussing books with friends. By day, she spends her time working with college students and by night she writes. When S.A. McClure isn’t traveling, she’s at home, wrangling her three trouble-m
aking cats.
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