by Alexia Purdy
“You look so much like your uncle, it sickens me,” she spat. Nothing on her face told me she’d be merciful, I got that. But she had to let Soap and Zena go. I’d make sure of it.
“I know Tycob was an ass to you, and I really don’t blame you for killing that monster, but my uncle was married. He was in love with his wife. How can you fault a man for loving someone other than you when you already knew he did so? Why would you allow yourself to fall for him when you knew there was no way he could reciprocate your love?”
“The Teleen women can marry more than one man. He had an affinity to fire, and he wasn’t a Teleen. Who better to love than one who was not part of the world that had scarred me so badly? I asked him to leave his wife because we didn’t need her, but he refused.”
“So you killed him.”
“I didn’t mean to kill him.” More tears. More lies. Even if she broke down and gave up her vow to kill us all, I didn’t think I could like her one bit. She was more broken than anyone I’d ever seen, and I’d seen some really damaged people. “He was supposed to sleep deeply,” she continued. “Deeply enough that his wife would believe he was dead, and then I could claim him for myself, forever. But he loved her more than anything. He adored those who couldn’t help themselves. So I poisoned him.”
“Oh, he’s sleeping pretty much forever now,” I scoffed.
This angered her, and she approached the barrier, malice dancing in eyes still full of tears. “You dare spite me, elemental?”
“I dare a lot of things.” I hoped my big mouth didn’t get us all killed. “But what I would dare the most right now is anything to have you let Zena and Soap go. They are innocent, and you know that. They have nothing to do with your war against those who harmed you. Isn’t Tycob dead? Isn’t he long gone now? To what end do you continue this? What will you get out of it? There is nothing to come but more sorrow if you continue down this road. There is nothing here for you anymore; you have to let go of this poison because it’s consuming you. It’s taken your life away from you. You even gave up the chance to raise your son, the only part of you that is good and bright. You lost that before you ever gave it a chance.”
Her tears were dripping from her chin, and she wiped at them. She turned away, sparing me another mental assault, for which I was grateful for. As I paced back and forth, I could tell my words had awoken something inside of her. Or maybe she was realizing that Soap truly had returned to her, the lost son she’d given away before she’d given him a chance to love her back. Who needed the love of a significant other when there was real love given freely from a child? He’d been the one who’d needed her the most, and she’d given him up.
“There is no redemption,” she finally muttered, turning back to her elixir and reaching out for a bottle filled with a dark sludge. “There is only vengeance and death. Only heartbreak and violence. Even for the Sighted.” She peered at Soap, a calm coming over her features. She looked like she had found the answer to it all. “Zena is innocent, but I knew she would be the key to bringing you both here. She’s one of the last of the Sighted, so that part of my mission is almost complete. Do you know why I picked this spot? I’ve brought generations of Sighted here, but not to kill them. The stones help ward off the Unseelie bounty hunters I set upon them myself. Without my magic, they wouldn’t be able to survive.”
I shook my head. What was she talking about? I was more than confused. “I don’t know what you’re saying. You mean you don’t kill the Sighted?”
Cracking a sad smile, she nodded. “I don’t. I continue Brendan’s work with them. I hunt them not just to give them stones if they don’t have them but to eliminate their defect. I wipe their minds of the things they’ve seen and let them go on with their lives, with nothing to fear from Faerie.”
I was stunned. She was dealing with those with the Sight, but not in the way I had thought. “Why would you do that?” I asked. This woman was a puzzles, and I wasn’t sure the answers she could give me were going to be worth the asking. From the malice dancing in her voice and the low-throated giggle rising from her, I knew there was more to it than a simple mind wipe.
“I remove their gift and give them a stone to keep the noises of the magicals from bothering them.”
My eyes widened. “Remove their gift… you blind them?”
I turned toward Zena, feeling my heart drop to my gut. “Zena?”
“She couldn’t hear you before, but now she can hear everything.” She snapped a finger, and Zena turned our way. She had not looked in our direction before, but now she followed the sound of the snapping fingers. Her eyes remained unfocused, shimmering with a white glaze covering what had been the brightest emerald eyes I’d ever seen. Now they were a muted green, imprisoned behind a haze that would never allow her to see the world again.
“You blinded her?” I shook my head, my mouth drying while my rage rose, threatening to consume me. “Why? She knew how to control the Sight. You took her eyes….” I turned back to her. “You’re a monster.”
“I’ve been called worse things,” Iana snapped, unfazed by my words.
“Undo it,” I demanded.
She huffed, laughing at my request.
“Undo it or I’ll—”
“Or you’ll what, little elemental?” She grabbed a flask, dipping it into the gooey elixir and corking it before dangling it in my face. I swore that if that barrier fell, I would wrap my hands around her thin neck and squeeze so tightly her eyes would bulge out of her skull.
I backed away, turning and placing my hands on the barrier between Zena and us. “Zena. It’s Benton.”
“Benton!” She stood up and staggered over to the barrier, touching it with her hands first and feeling for its end. “I can’t get past this thing. Not sure if it’s a wall or what.”
“It’s a barrier the witch placed to keep us apart.”
“Thank you for coming to save me.”
“Any time.” I smiled as her fingers touched the barrier near mine. If it weren’t for it, I would have already been holding her in my arms. “I’ll always come back for you.”
She smiled, her beauty unmarred by the veil over her eyes. I wanted to reach out and place my hands on her face and try to heal whatever damage Iana had done. I’d search to the ends of the world to figure out how to fix it. I had to. I owed it to Zena.
“I can’t see.”
“I know.”
“Be careful, Benton,” she whispered. “She’s powerful.”
“I will. Stay down; this might get messy.”
She nodded and felt her way back into the room. She slid down and crawled along the ground to find something to hide under. She may have been blind, but she was a smart girl.
I turned back to Iana, who was holding up the flask and shaking it vigorously. She didn’t seem to care what I was doing as she giggled insanely. The woman had lost her bloody mind. Not even Soap’s presence could bring her back.
“What now?” I asked Soap.
“I don’t know. We need to break the barrier.”
“I can break it,” I whispered. “It took a while, but I found a weakness. I need a distraction.”
He shrugged but noted a black snake crawling near our feet. He avoided it, and we both watched it as it slithered across the floor toward the door to the outside. It crossed the barrier without any problems, and we both watched as it made its way out through the gap under the front door.
The magic didn’t affect animals. Well how about that?
I turned to Soap and hoped he knew what to do. He nodded as we both focused back on Iana. She was busy checking her elixir. I assumed it was the same poison she’d used to kill my uncle. No doubt she was going to use it on me.
Full circle. I honestly didn’t like the thought of that. Brendan had died for being kind to this woman but failing to love her, and my feelings for Zena had put me at the witch’s mercy.
I threw Soap a nod, and he backed away to where he could transform without being seen. I, on th
e other hand, was going to distract his mother with talk, undoubtedly one of my best skills.
I hoped my silver tongue was up to the task.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Soap
“You think you know everything. You’re as blind as you’ve made Zena, and you don’t even realize it.”
Benton was already working his words over Iana, and I cringed at the thought of being at the other end of her wrath. I stepped slowly away as she refocused her death glare on Benton and held out a flask of her concoction.
“If you knew what was coming, you’d beg me for mercy.” She shook the flask, giggling maniacally under her breath.
“I’ve heard that line before. Sorry, you’re not my type.”
Benton crossed his arms and threw her a mocking smirk. Iana began slinging curses his way right through the barrier. Now was my chance. Benton would have no problem dodging them. He’d seen a lot worse in battle. A witch like her would be no problem.
Okay, I was feeling relatively confident he could dodge them. I just hoped I was right.
I crept into the shadows behind a hanging bear hide draped along a shelf. Once I reached it, I morphed into a snake, just like the ones she’d used to coil around me. Once on the floor, I undulated my slick, scaly body, getting used to the odd mechanics of snake movement. My body felt odd, like I lacked bones, but my muscles responded even more in this form than in my human-faery body. It was liberating, and I could move faster than I thought, just with a flick of torso.
This kind of transformation was not my forte. My usual antics included tricks of glamour. Complete manipulation of my body to another form—especially a smaller creature—felt odd.
Once at Iana’s feet, I considered biting her. Would I be able to inject venom like the snakes I was emulating? After a moment of indecision and before she could discover me, I morphed back to myself and jumped her from behind, tightly wrapping my arms around.
Immediately, I wished I’d bitten her. She struggled far more than I would’ve guessed a frail-looking witch could. I never thought she had it in her.
“What? Let me go!”
She stomped her feet onto mine, jerked, and sent us rolling to the side. I held on despite her desperate struggle. My shoulder ached as I landed on it. Grunting to keep her subdued, I realized I was losing the battle.
“Benton! Not sure how much longer I can hold her!”
He was already shoving an unthinkable amount of magic into her barrier. I felt the energy in the room shift as it shattered. The effort didn’t seem to drain him that much, for before rushing forward, he paused long enough to pull a flask of dark purple fluid from his hip pack. He uncorked the flask and doused the witch’s face with the liquid.
Her screeches were deafening, and I had to let go to cover my ears while she convulsed on the floor, violently thrashing against me until she went utterly still, letting out a slow, whistling exhale.
Had he just killed her?
We had to take her down, but taking her out like that? I was left stunned, and my head continued to ring from her screeching voice. It had to have been laced with magic; my thoughts were cloudy, and a wave of dizziness hit me as I crawled toward her, rolled her over, and pulled her into my lap to check her vital signs.
“Iana?”
Benton was now at the other side of the room, working his spell on the barrier blocking the door to the room where Zena was being held. He shattered it easily enough and immediately reached in to scoop her into his arms. It was touching, but as I stared back down at Iana, feeling her neck for a pulse. Desperation grew inside me. This was the woman who had birthed me. Her spreading pallor was a cause for concern; I could feel no movement from her, no breath.
“Benton? Did you kill her?”
He set Zena down on a chair in the corner of the room and reassured her before heading over toward me.
“I might have.”
“What? We didn’t want to kill her. We need answers. She could be the catalyst or key or whatever the hell Rowan said we’d find here. We can’t help Aluse’s brother if you kill one of them!” My heart pounded as I pushed Iana’s wild locks from her face, giving her body a small shake. “Iana?”
“Look, man, it was her or us. I picked us.”
“You can heal her, can’t you? We can take her as a prisoner.” I peered up at Benton, pleading for him for help. “We need her. You know this.”
“I’m the key,” Zena called to us. “The catalyst is not the witch, but you’ll need her. She’s like a focal point. She’s gathered the gifts of the Sighted, concentrated that power into herself, causing this phenomenon. I am the key to unlocking the stones. The catalyst is my brother, a Nephilim. He must also be present if any cure is to be found for the withering disease. We are the way to save Faerie, or all is lost.”
Zena’s voice trembled. Her back was as straight as a rod as she spoke, but as soon as the last word left her lips, she collapsed. Benton jumped to catch her, guiding her as she slid off the chair and onto the floor.
“Zena? What are you talking about?”
“If Iana dies, we die with her. She has connected herself to us all. Faerie, witches, humans, Nephilim, we must all thrive if the world is to survive. Benton?” She blinked her eyes up at him, empty and white, smiling as her fingers caressed the hair dangling in his face. “Save her, Benton. I know you can. Save her to save us.”
He nodded, and without further questioning, he laid her down gently as blood trickled from her nose and her face paled. I worried we were already too late.
Benton returned and pulled out another bottle. I suppose it was an antidote to whatever he’d splashed onto Iana. He poured it into her mouth, sprinkling some over her face and pressing his hands to the sides of her head, muttering something I didn’t understand. It was old magic, older than any language I’d ever heard. I could tell because the entire room vibrated, and the frantic whispers of the dead filled the air.
It was visually stunning and yet terrifying at the same time. Some ghosts rushed throughout the room, holding their heads and screaming silent wails while others stood encircling us, muttering the same spell as Benton. A man who looked a lot like him emerged from the vapor around us, joining him in the chant.
I was looking at Brendan, Benton’s uncle. I was sure of it, because it was he who bent down toward Iana, whispering his chant to her before speaking in a language I could understand.
“Iana. It’s not time yet. You have much work to do. Release yourself of this vendetta and turn to the way of the light. You will find peace there and only there. I forgive you.”
With his last words, a rush of air blasted through the cottage, sending us all sprawling to the floor and into darkness, for all the candles in the room went out all at the same time, shrouding us in inky darkness.
I shook off the blast, my eyes adjusting to the blackness. There was the slightest illumination from the vapor still filling the room, but it was waning. I rolled toward Iana to find her eyes open, staring at the ceiling with her lips slightly parted. Her chest moved with a weak but steady breath while a single tear fell from the corner of her eyelid, down her face, and to the floor. She was weak but very much alive.
“Iana.” I reached out and touched her hand. She blinked but was too drained to move. “Just hold on.”
“Benton?” Zena’s voice was a tiny sound coming from the other side of the room. I blinked, trying to focus on her as the rest of the room came back into focus. Benton was staggering to his feet, doing his best to shake off the blast of spirit energy.
“Benton?” Zena said, sensing him as he approached her. “My brother… you have to free him. He’s chained with powerful magic, and… and he’s dying. Iana has drained him far too much.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Benton
“Zena!” I was at her side again, feeling as worn out as she appeared. “Where is he?”
Her hand lifted toward the room where she’d been trapped. “There. He’s in there. U
nveil him first; he’s glamoured to be invisible. The witch has been slowly draining him with bespelled iron chains. Remove them, or he and I will die together. We are forever linked.”
I nodded and made my way toward the room. Zena was growing weaker by the second, and her usually pale skin was looking even more sickly now. I had to hurry and find her brother, or I’d be burying three corpses by morning.
I wasn’t about to let that happen to Zena or anyone in this room now. I’d been short sighted trying to kill Iana, but at least I had reversed my spell in time. All this magic was wearing on me, and I was sure I would collapse soon, but I fought to stay awake each and every passing moment. I’d had a boost from my uncle Brendan, who had shown up in spirit form, but the infusion of his ghostly energy had worn me down.
But I’d never give up. I would die before I let my body hit the floor.
Inside the room, I peered around, seeing nothing. I could smell burning flesh, and I wrinkled my nose, knowing there was another shielding spell at work. Closing my eyes, I expelled yet another dose of my magic, searching for the glamour. A minute passed, and I failed to focus on him. I called out to her.
“What’s his name, Zena? I need an anchor for my spell.”
“Xyon. His name is Xyon.”
“Okay.”
A person’s name, whether magical or not, carried enough power to help me direct my magic to its bearer. I focused the name in my mind and felt it grasp onto something. I pushed my energy into the glamour, creating a small crack in it. I began peeling it away with ease now that I had him pinned down.
The glamour faded away, and before me, hunched over and weakened, was a withered angel, stripped of his feathers, starved, and severely emaciated. His large green eyes blinked at me, popping out of his skull like two swollen orbs. He’d been tortured and fed too little. He wouldn’t have survived for much longer. I could see an empty plate next to him, licked clean.