Ashes of Iris

by Stephanie Poscente

  As he began shouting the witch's name, a sliver of light poured out from the cottage behind. Lukas heard her gasp and hurried footsteps before Aggie reached him and began pummeling his shoulders with her small fists.

  “Who are you?” she screeched, pulling him from Sophie's side. Her strength surprised him and he did not resist her. “Get away from her! Oh my god. What have you done? What have you done?”

  “Aggie,” he said quietly, raising both hands in surrender.

  Her eyes widened in shock. Her mouth fell open, a string of broken sounds coming from it as she scanned her surroundings, taking in Rausch and Fantir before locking her eyes on Sophie's limp form. She brought her eyes back to Lukas and, though they were still wide with shock, raised a hand to point at him.

  “L-Lukas?” she whispered.

  He nodded and she gasped again, both hands flying to her mouth. Her head shook continuously as she watched him step toward her.

  “It's alright,” he said quietly. “Please. Do not be afraid. I need your help now, more than I ever have. I cannot let her die, Aggie. Not for this. You must help me.”

  Aggie lowered her hands, giving him a resigned nod as her eyes filled with tears.

  “Whatever you need,” she said. “I'll do it.”

  Kneeling beside her once more, Lukas swept a strand of hair from Sophie's face and bent close.

  “You will not die for me,” he whispered, sweeping one arm under her neck and the other beneath her bent knees. He lifted her easily, carrying her past Fantir who watched with tears flowing silently down his face. Rausch followed, head bent, as though taking part in a funeral procession.

  Before he reached the open door of his cottage he heard the sound of frantic footsteps thundering through the brush and within moments was assaulted from behind.

  “Who the hell are you?” a man yelled, shoving Lukas so violently that he quite nearly fell. “Put her down, you filthy bastard.”

  At once, Lukas recognized the voice. He ignored it, stepping through the doorway and placing Sophie gently on the sofa in the living room. Once he had settled her, he turned back. Fire burned in his eyes as he moved to stand in front of Jude, who cowered slightly at the force of his anger.

  “If you care for her at all,” he said quietly, using every ounce of his remaining strength to keep from strangling the man before him, “you will find a way to help her.”

  “I want the spirit,” Jude stammered, looking from the sofa where Sophie lay to Lukas towering over him. “What have you done with her?”

  “She is gone,” he answered simply. “I suggest you follow her lead, unless you wish me to assist you.”

  “D-dead?” Jude muttered. Lukas nodded. “And Sophie?”

  Lukas did not answer. His heart sank at the sight of her gaunt face, but he straightened his shoulders and glared down at Jude.

  “I will not allow it.”

  Rausch and Aggie had moved to kneel beside her, the old man gripping her lifeless hand hopelessly. Fantir did not enter the cottage, but remained standing in the darkness outside, grief his only remaining company.

  Chapter 18

  Wind whipped at her face, sending her hair dancing over her cheeks and neck, and she raised her closed eyes to the bright light pounding heat over her skin.

  “Sophie,” she heard a voice call from far away. “Sophie.”

  Familiarity struck her as she listened to the voice calling, and though she wanted to turn and respond, she could not bring her muscles to obey.

  “Sophie,” the voice called again, and she tried to open her mouth to respond, but it would not move.

  The pleasant weightlessness she had enjoyed a moment before suddenly became stifling as she struggled to gain control of her body. The voice grew nearer, the familiarity still sending whispers of a memory through her mind. Losing the will to struggle, she simply waited for it to approach her.

  After a moment, a cold hand gripped hers and squeezed hard. She wanted to return the sentiment, but could not.

  “Oh, Sophie,” she heard the deep voice say, felt the brush of cold fingers along her forehead. “You shouldn't be here, sweetheart. You shouldn't be here.”

  Confusion racked her as she listened. The light began to fade behind her eyelids, the warmth retreating from her skin.

  “That's right, baby, go home. Go back. I love you too much to want to see you here now.”

  Suddenly, every memory flashed into place and her heart leapt at the sudden recognition.

  Uncle Gus, her mind screamed, though her body did nothing in response to her excitement. She wanted nothing more than to see his face, to feel more than the cold brush of his skin on her hand. Her desire brought the light back to her, its strength doubled in intensity.

  “No, Sophie, no,” he whispered. “Go home now. They need you there. It's too soon, honey.”

  Sophie struggled against the darkness that crept into the corners of her eyes, to maintain a grip on the feel of her uncle's hand in hers, but it was fading fast.

  “Be strong, Sophie,” she heard him whisper, though it was far away and muffled. “Forgive and love deeply. You'll always be the most important thing in my life, sweetheart. I'll miss you always, but stay away. Stay away a long time.”

  And then darkness engulfed her, sweeping over her body like a thick blanket and blocking every ounce of light and sound. The weight of her limbs pressed into a soft surface, but they felt as though they had been filled with lead and mortar. No sounds met her ears, though the light grew brighter by the second. She felt her muscles twitch, her fingers convulsed and her eyes fluttered.

  A muffled cry reached her through the silence, but she was focused on moving her previously paralyzed limbs. Her eyes fluttered again with the effort. Letting them open a slit, she was surprised to be surrounded by near darkness, though the light had blinded her only moments before. Blurred figures surrounded her and she could still feel the cold grip of someone's hand on hers.

  “Uncle Gus,” she muttered, her heart racing at the sudden memory of his touch.

  “She's alive!” a woman's voice shouted from nearby. Sophie cringed at its volume.

  “Sophie,” another voice whispered, familiar to her, and she opened her eyes further to discover the source, her hopes plummeting when it did not belong to her uncle.

  Rausch knelt beside her, his face only inches from hers. Her eyes tried to focus on his expression, but the strain was too much and she closed them as her forehead began to pound. Her grimace must have shocked him, because he moved away and demanded a chilled cloth.

  His cold grasp was replaced by a warm stroke.

  “You're alright now,” she heard a woman whisper. “Be still, dear, everything is alright.”

  For a moment all was silent save for a rustling somewhere to the left of her. She lay unmoving, the weight still pressing against her weakened body. And then a loud crash and the thunder of steps startled her and her eyes cracked open once more.

  “Are you certain?” a man asked, the voice sending a wave of longing over her.

  “Yes,” the woman answered. “Her eyes opened, and she mumbled a little. I think she'll be alright, Lukas.”

  “Lukas,” Sophie tried the name, her voice hoarse and quiet. When she spoke it, he knelt down beside her, his black hair a tangled mess and his eyes red with exhaustion.

  “Sophie,” he whispered, brushing the hair from her forehead. His touch sent a shock through her body, as his voice had done seconds before, and she almost sat upright with the force of it.

  Everything flooded into her mind then, every memory, every action. The voices became familiar and she struggled to see each person, desperate to place their names and be sure it was reality. Lukas did not remove his hand from the base of her neck and she was grateful for his warmth as she processed the memories.

  “Wh-what happened?” she croaked. “Is everyone okay?”

  “Everyone is fine,” Lukas answered. “You broke the curse, Sophie, you have set us all free.
You were so still, I thought she-” he broke off then, and Sophie glanced up at him. His eyes were sad, but he gave a weak smile at her glance.

  “She's gone?” she asked, the memory of her final encounter with the witch making her body tremble.

  “Yes,” she heard another voice answer before Lukas could speak. “She's gone. You broke your oath, Sophie, and now I will never have my vengeance.”

  Jude stepped forward, his eyes narrowed.

  “What is done cannot be undone,” Lukas growled, his hand pressing more firmly on Sophie's chest. “If you stay only to place blame, you are not welcome. She has been through enough.”

  “I'm sorry,” Sophie managed to say, though fatigue was threatening to pull her into unconsciousness. “I had no choice.”

  The sudden awareness of Jude's interaction with Lukas made Sophie gasp, forgetting her exhaustion for a moment.

  “You can hear him?” she asked, glancing in Jude's direction. “So it's true. The curse is broken?”

  Lukas nodded slowly. Sophie tried to swing her legs from the sofa, and was satisfied when she managed to drag one down, letting Lukas put his arm around her to help her progress. Pushing herself up, she ignored the nausea that swam in her head.

  “What now?” she asked, locking eyes with Lukas. He did not meet her gaze, but she noticed that he glanced down toward his hands. “Lukas?”

  “We fade quickly,” Fantir answered, coming in through the door. “Already, I feel the effects. It will not be long now.”

  “Fade?” she repeated. “What do you mean?”

  Rausch moved to sit beside her, and she saw Aggie huddled near the corner, one hand pressed to her mouth and her eyes closed tight. Only when Rausch placed his hand on her shoulder did she feel the unnatural weightlessness of it.

  “Far too many years have we lingered,” he said gently. “It is our time, now.”

  “Your time? You can't mean-”

  “We will die, Sophie,” Lukas interrupted. His face was set, but she could see the pain in his eyes when he looked at her. For a moment, she was unable to speak.

  “I was unsure,” Rausch continued. “At first, it seemed we were as we should have been. But then,” he paused, “then, things began to grow faded and dim. I feel light as air.”

  “No,” she answered, shaking her head. “No, you can't. It's my fault, I-”

  “Sophie,” Lukas said sharply, leaning forward and gripping her face in his hands. The warmth had not faded, though his touch felt thin. “Never think that. The lives we have endured, they were torturous, unimaginable. Perhaps peace waits for us now, and I will welcome it.”

  “But, you never lived. You've been trapped all these years. It isn't fair!”

  “No,” he said, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “Perhaps not. But at least I had the opportunity to meet you, speak to you. Touch you.” A smile crossed his face. “You lifted a weight from me, Sophie, and I will be forever grateful.”

  Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she felt Rausch squeeze her shoulder gently. She turned to him and he smiled.

  “It was a great pleasure knowing you,” he said in a soft voice. “The world is lucky to have you still in it. You are extraordinary, my dear. But I have suffered the grief of many men these years, I believe death will be a welcome friend to me.”

  “And to me,” Fantir said from behind her. He did not approach, but she could hear the emotion saturating his voice. After that, he spoke no more.

  Turning back to Lukas, she was shocked to see that his form had faded. She choked back the tears. He looked like a projection of his former self, but still he cocked his head to the side and smiled.

  “Do not grieve,” he said, pulling her closer. “You have many years ahead of you.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing gently against her forehead. The touch made her tremble and she could not stop the tears that flowed, tasting their salt as she pulled him to her. His arms wrapped her in a tight embrace, but he pulled his face away, looking at her with sad eyes.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For all you have done.”

  She nodded slowly, holding back the sobs as she watched his form fade into near transparency. Rausch had already disappeared from the couch, and the moment Lukas's body was no longer visible, she lost her grip on him, her arms falling limply to her knees.

  Aggie let out sob, rushing to her side and stroking her hair with frantic hands. Sophie sat, the tears flowing slowly and silently down her cheeks, but did not speak. She could still sense Jude standing behind her, but he remained silent, stepping away and closing the door gently behind him.

  There they sat, the hours passing quickly, until dawn broke through the small cottage windows and poured cheerful sunlight over the hollow room. Sophie inhaled, her breath shaking, and shifted away from Aggie. Her back was stiff, and her feet had fallen asleep long before, but she struggled to stand. Aggie followed her, keeping one hand clasped on her arm.

  “Sophie,” she said, as Sophie pulled the door open, letting the crisp morning air wash over her face, making her raw eyes sting and burn. “You'll be alright, won't you?”

  Sophie nodded. Her heart felt heavy, but she knew what she needed to do.

  “I think so,” she said. “And you? You've been a part of this much longer than I have.”

  “Yes, I'll be fine, in time,” Aggie answered. “I knew how desperately he wanted freedom. I would be selfish to resent that.”

  With another nod, Sophie turned and embraced the small woman, breathing in the scent of her thick hair before turning away and walking slowly through the trees.

  It was a surprise to her when she came to the familiar courtyard, having been lost in thought as she walked and barely aware of the direction she needed to follow. The sunlight broke over the line of trees, reflecting from the tall windows and brightening the colorful courtyard. Her feet dragged as she entered the castle, her shoulders were heavy with the weight of the previous night's turmoil. The halls were silent and still, not a whisper of movement disturbed the air.

  Upon reaching her room, Sophie collapsed onto the bed, fully clothed, and fell instantly into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  “Have you packed everything?” Aunt Marilyn's voice cut through the silent air in the empty room. “You're sure you haven't forgotten something?”

  “I'm pretty sure,” Sophie replied, smiling. “I'll double check, though.”

  With a nod, Aunt Marilyn turned away, rifling through her own belongings before zipping the last of her many bags closed.

  “What a beautiful trip,” she sighed. “I only wish we could stay longer. How wonderful that Katie and Brian are able to stay alone for another week before heading to Paris.”

  Sophie did not disagree, though she was grateful to leave, but nodded without a word. She thought back to that morning, after she had returned from Lukas’s cottage. Her sister had looked radiant, her cheeks flushed with pride as she walked hand in hand with her new husband into the breakfast room. Her mother had gushed about the previous night, rambling loudly over every detail as the table sat silently enduring her banter. Her eyes had strayed to Sophie only once, though the haughtiness she was used to seeing in them had faded.

  Her father had watched as Sophie sat relaxed, smiling, and content to be still and quiet while the others carried on pleasant conversation. She had met his gaze with a small smile, rising to hug him quickly before following her aunt to their rooms to pack.

  Everything seemed changed since the previous night as Sophie stepped through the front doors with her suitcase in hand. The air was crisp and fresh, the sunlight somehow brighter. As she strode past the blooming flowerbeds, it seemed as though the colors had grown more vibrant to her eyes and she could smell their thick fragrance in the breeze. No haze lingered among the thick forest surrounding them, as though the air mimicked her growing clarity. Wilton stood at the base of the stairway, holding out a hand as Aunt Marilyn neared him. Sophie heard her bright laughter as he leaned forward to whisper in her aun
t's ear, his eyes twinkling with delight.

  Twisting her head to look over her shoulder, she imagined a dark figure standing just inside the line of trees, his tangled hair and familiar dark eyes illuminated by the beaming rays. A smile crossed his face as he faded slowly, only a vague memory of what he once was.

  Letting the image fade into nothingness, Sophie turned back to see her aunt looking at her with raised eyebrows. She shrugged her shoulders and gave a small laugh, accepting the embrace that Aunt Marilyn offered, the thought of home in the forefront of her mind.

  Helping her father and Aunt Marilyn load the suitcases into the waiting truck, she smiled to herself as the dull ache began to fade from her heart.

  Everything was as it should have been, many years ago.