Igniting the Flame (The Ignited Girl Series Book 2)

by EJ Everette

  My tormentor turns back to glare at me, a decision battling back and forth across his face. Eventually, he seems to accept whatever it is. With his deadly sneer, he reaches over to grab something off of the table. I flinch, not so completely insane that I don’t fear whatever comes next. Not yet, at least. He inhales deeply, smelling my fear no doubt, and smiling in response.

  “Very well. We will continue until she proves to me she is the ignited girl. If she dies, I will know you have deceived me and you will be punished. Do you understand?” Though he is talking to the little servant, his black dead eyes never leave mine.

  “Yes, Master. Of course.” The weak little shit scurries away, leaving me with my new worst nightmare. Funny how that happens. Just when you think you’ve dealt with the most despicable scum of the earth, the world has to introduce something far worse to break you down. At least, that’s been my experience. Here I thought being a goddess was going to make things better. Ha! Some awesome revelation all of this has turned out to be. So much for that prophecy. It looks like this fucker is going to end me before I can fulfill anything.

  He shifts around me, but I zone out. The one thing that saved me in the past was my ability to shut everything off. The old Gray had gotten really good at disconnecting from it all, disappearing into the darkness to avoid the reality of what happened in the light. My eyes are shut when he reaches across me so I don’t see what he is intending to do. Still, I am shocked when I feel him slice through the strap on my right wrist. Seconds later he cuts through the one on my left wrist as well. What the hell? Is he releasing me? There is no way.

  Another wave of pain paired with extreme nausea hits me then as my body is lifted and maneuvered until I am seated facing the sick bastard. My shattered feet dangle beneath me causing my body to convulse yet again from the movement. The sentry from before, or maybe even a new one, I can’t tell, comes over and the two of them strap me in again. This time, my arms are stretched out wide in a “V” above my head, secured in metal cuffs attached to the stone wall. The cuffs are beyond cold, icy streams of fire radiating from where they circle my wrists. With one quick motion, the massive sentry guard jerks the bed from beneath me, dropping all of my weight in a jerk, yet another scream of agony escaping me. The combination of the sudden pull of my weight on my wrists as well as the brutal movement of my broken and bleeding body sends me over the edge and my screams rise an octave, turning into shrieks of utter destruction as I feel my life force fading from me. Exhaustion takes me with it as I slowly let myself go.

  “I will return and when I do, you better be alive and healed. I am far from done with you, child. Do not deny me the pleasure of training you. There is no telling how I will retaliate against those you love should you fail to provide me with what I seek. Keep that in mind, princess. You are the only thing keeping your people alive. Best get to it and heal up for our next meeting.”

  His crackling voice breaks through my escape, getting the message across. Fear for Charlie and my friends overpowers the anguish my body is experiencing. I can’t let go. I can’t let him hurt my family. I overhear him bark something to the brute at the door, but nothing makes sense right now. My mind is reeling, the idea of Charlie being hurt because of me causes more pain than any physical wound. I have to stay alive, but I have no hope of escape.

  The only warning I get to prepare me for my next attack is the low grunt that comes from the brute. The sound is immediately followed by a powerful blunt force slamming into my side. I feel the crack of at least one, if not more, of my ribs from the blow. My wailing does nothing to deter the beast as another blow comes from the other side. I lose count of how many times the creature pounds into me as well as the number of ribs I feel crack and break beneath its fists. All too soon, or maybe not soon enough, the assault becomes too much for me and I disappear into the darkness, my final thoughts of my brother’s safety.

  “Grayelle. Gray. Wake up my love. Please. Wake up for me.”

  I feel my Mom’s hand caress my cheek, only my Mom is dead. My eyes snap open to take in the person before me. Her gorgeous chestnut hair falls down her back, reaching her waist. She is wearing a dress that looks similar to the one in the photo of her with Grams and her coven. It’s soft white contrasts greatly with the dark stone walls of the cell around us. Mom looks at me, her eyes filled with both love and sadness.

  “There you are my sweet girl.”

  “Mom. How can I see you? How are you here? This doesn’t feel like a dream.”

  “It’s no dream, my love. I am here with you in spirit, a gift given to our family long before either of us were born.”

  But… but how?

  “How? And why now but never before? Why weren’t you around?” Anger and grief hit me hard, dueling for dominance. “Why did you leave me? And if you could just pop up anytime, why didn’t you show up and tell me who I am? What I am? Why did you leave me alone?!” The tears I kept from falling throughout my torture well up before cascading down my face in a steady stream.

  “Oh Grayelle. I would have come to you sooner if I could. I wanted it every moment. I never wanted to leave your side, my sweet princess. I wanted to watch you grow, teach you about your family, train you as my father trained me, introduce you to your home. I wanted for so many things, but destiny had other plans. I am here now. Will you forgive me?”

  Sobs keep me from saying anything as I do my best to see through the heavy tears blurring my sight. My Mom is here. Right now. She might be a spirit or whatever, but she is real. I want nothing more than to run to her, have her wrap her arms around me, and hold me while I weep. I tug at my chains, new pain washing over me with the movement.

  “You mustn't fight it, Gray. Relax. I will help you.”

  “I don’t understand what is happening to me. That demon said he is waiting for me to heal but I don’t know how to do any of this! I don’t even fully understand what is going on! I feel so lost and tired. I just want the pain to stop but I can’t leave Charlie alone. I won’t. But damnit how am I supposed to get out of this?!”

  My Mom looks at me, so much love in her eyes my tears burst through in another wave of emotion. She moves to stand closer to me, well float closer to me, resting her hand on my cheek. I can feel warmth from her touch, though it's different from what it would feel like if she were really here. Still, it has been years since I felt my Mom in any way and I lean into her hand, chasing the contact.

  “I do not have all of the answers, but I do have enough of them. I cannot tell you how long you will have to endure these trials, my love, but I will be here with you. You will learn from me. I will help you find your strength. I will not leave you to suffer alone any longer. For whatever reason, I am able to be with you now, and so we will prepare. Every time you sleep, I will be here with you. I will tell you about your destiny, your family, and our home. I will tell you everything, sweet Grayelle, and I will help you to survive. You just have to fight with me. Can you do that?”

  She looks at me with fierce determination and in that moment I want to be strong for her. I want to prove I can survive this. I slowly nod my head, the throbbing in my skull a reminder that my new injuries are just additions to the ones I arrived with. I wince at the pressure, but keep my eyes focused on Mom.

  “I can try,” I manage. “I can’t promise anything, but I can try.”

  She smiles at my admission. Her other hand comes up to rest on my opposite cheek, her face so close to mine I could reach out and brush my nose to hers like we used to do when I was little.

  “There’s my girl. Let’s start with this head wound, shall we?”

  She moves her hands to hover above the cut across my forehead. Her eyes lock with mine, and I feel the softest push of air around the injury. Warmth flows from her hands, though they remain above my head, not touching me directly. A sweetness fills the air, so thick I can taste it on my tongue.

  “Listen to me, Grayelle. I will show you how to do this but I am afraid I am limited in my abili
ties in this form. I need you to focus. There you go. Close your eyes and breathe deeply. Find something in your memory that brings you joy. Any moment of happiness, strength, success… it doesn’t matter. Find something you can hold on to. Got it? Now allow the sensation to travel to your injury. Push the feeling of joy as if it were a physical object until it rests on your wound. There. That’s perfect. You’re doing great honey.”

  I let the memory, one of Charlie and I learning how to two-step with Grams a few years ago, take over everything else. Charlie was so hesitant, but Grams insisted that even stubborn boys who liked to hide out in their room needed to learn how to woo a gal and dancing was the foundation of all great love stories. She told us how Gramps had stolen her heart from another suitor when he asked her for an innocent dance at a party they both attended. He had whisked her across the dance floor and all else faded away. She said she knew before the song was through that he was the man for her. Charlie seemed ill at the entire conversation, but he loved to make Grams smile so he went along with it. Her old body could still move, gliding me across the living room space to some classic song by Elvis about how he couldn’t help but fall in love with a girl. We giggled as the music changed from slow to more upbeat rhythms, Grams adjusting our pace with the beat of the songs. When he wasn’t dancing, I could see Charlie smiling at the two of us and that was the day I thought we might just be okay. On that day, we finally felt like a family.

  The sharpness of the head wound eases the more I remember the moment. I can see what Mom is telling me about creating a physical object from the joy. It’s almost like I can see an orb-like light in front of me. I push it deeper into where the cut in my head has continued to bleed for who knows how long. After a few moments, the light disappears but the pain goes with it. I can’t reach my head with the way I am chained, but I know the wound is healed regardless.

  “Holy monkey speckled ass cheeks!”

  My exclamation causes my Mom to laugh, the sound like wind chimes moving together in glorious harmony. I missed that laugh so much.

  “You have done well, my love.” Her hand caresses where the wound used to be, the warmth adding additional comfort to the now healed area. It feels like it was never injured to begin with.

  “That was… that was amazing! Can we do the rest of me now?” With all of the excitement surrounding my badass healing abilities I was temporarily distracted from the pain in my abdomen and legs. All too quickly the sheer agony of their broken state comes flooding back and I bite my lip until it is bleeding to keep my scream at bay. Yeah, I need to get this shit healed up asap before I pass out again. Or am I already passed out? God this is confusing.

  “Wait,” Mom stops my rumination. “You mustn’t heal yourself completely.” Her words take a moment to register, the confusion obvious on my face at her suggestion to let myself remain in my current fucked up state.

  “What? Why? I feel like I might die, Mom. If I can heal myself, why would I stay this way?”

  “Because, my sweet girl, that is precisely what Dagnoroth wants you to do. He wants to see proof of your abilities so he can begin his plan to use you to destroy the other realms and claim the throne my father sits on.”

  “Dagnoroth. Is that the leader’s name? I prefer asshole face, personally. His face looks legit like the inside of a butthole, Mom. You can’t say you don’t see it. Makes me sick everytime I have to look at it.” Mom laughs again, though she shifts back to serious mode quickly.

  “Yes well be that as it may, Dagnoroth is a powerful being. He is the king of the realm of Gash, his evilness knows no bounds. He intends to torture you until you either die, proving you are not the girl the prophecy foretold, or heal yourself, showing him exactly what you are capable of. That is why you must not show him your power yet.”

  “If I don’t do something soon, I’m going to die from this torture, Mom. The pain is excruciating at best. Even now, when I am asleep and I imagine slightly less aware of the sheer devastation of my wounds, I can barely breathe from it. What am I supposed to do? I might be a princess or goddess or whatever but even I can’t handle much more.”

  “You must heal only what is necessary for now. We will train and I will teach you how to protect yourself. You are a warrior, Grayelle. You always have been. I cannot claim to know what will happen next, but I do know you are stronger than you could ever imagine. Your strength has always been tied to your heart, just as mine was. No one loves like we do, my sweet girl, and that kind of love holds more power within it than an entire army of evil. I will teach you to wield it, and you will annihilate your enemies in oceans of fire.”

  Her eyes light up as she speaks, flames dancing within them. My Mom is a badass, that’s for sure, and I am grateful to have her with me.

  “Okay. so I can heal myself, but only enough to survive without revealing I have healed myself? I’m going to be honest, Mom, that still sounds like it's going to fucking suck.” Her eyes flash at me, likely from annoyance at my choice of words, before she gives me a soft smile.

  “Suck it will, my love. But you are strong enough to handle it. Now, let us start from the bottom and work our way up. First, you must heal the bones in your feet. It will feel hot, like the flames of a scorching fire, but you will also find relief as you burn. Severe injuries take more from you and therefore you must be prepared for the heat. Do you understand? Good. Now bring your memories to the surface and guide them as you did before. Stop before you reach full strength so that you leave behind some damage. It will feel wrong to stop early, but you must not complete the healing. Do the same with the slashes in your legs. Heal them internally, stopping the flow of blood, but leave the wound on the surface exposed and obvious. Mend your ribs but leave the black bruises so that you look just as beaten as before. I am here with you, sweet girl. You can do this.”

  Closing my eyes, I pull another memory from my past, this one more recent. The day I met the guys pops into my mind and I hold on to all of the feelings they brought out in me. Acceptance. Friendship. Security. Happiness. I wield the images of each of their faces like a damn water bender, using the joy their friendship has brought me to create multiple orbs of power, placing them all over my injured body.

  The effect is intense, my entire being feels as if it is on fire, yet the burning is more pleasurable than painful. When I open my eyes, I see actual flames dancing over my skin though they are less like a typical fire and more transparent in nature. I pour every ounce of strength I have into healing my injuries, and only stop the process when I hear Mom’s voice.

  “That’s enough, Gray. You have done well. Rest. I will return to you.” Sleep takes me before I can respond.

  23

  Gray

  The asshole, Dagnoroth, returns a few hours after I wake up from a deep sleep. While the exposed wounds still ache across my body, I feel much better after my healing lesson with Mom. I still can’t believe it is really her. My Mom is here. Sure, she is a spirit or whatever, but I’ll take whatever I can get. My shoulders hurt from the weight of my body pulling me down as I hang from my wrist. I am determined not to let this fucker see me cry so I push the pain aside and address him before he has the chance to start our next “session”.

  “Well look what the cat dragged in. How’s your day going today, assface? You certainly are looking a little more puckered than usual. Were you hoping I’d die off in the night after the nice little parting gift you left for me? Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m still here.”

  His lips, if that is what we’re really going to call them, turn up in disgust at my cheery mood. Confusion has his skinless face all crinkled up and twisted. His eyes roam over me from head to toe, lingering too long on my bare midsection and legs. Nausea sweeps over me but since I have had nothing to eat since the poisoned food, who knows how many days ago, nothing comes up thankfully.

  “Why have you still not healed!” His shout is more an exclamation of anger than a question and a sick part of me kind of wants to giggle. Oof, I am
going to need more therapy if I ever get out of this.

  “I’ve told you, I have no clue what you are talking about! I can’t heal. Care to cut me down now and let me go? Obviously your little lackey demons fucked this one up. I’d head on over and take care of that if I were you.” My direct implication that his servants, and therefore himself, made a mistake doesn’t go unnoticed. In two quick strides he crosses the room to stand before me. Pulling his arm back, he slaps me, claw-side forward, leaving deep gashes across my face. I give a small shout at the contact, the blood instantly pouring down my cheeks and jaw. I can taste the coppery substance on my tongue, my lip busted wide open from the assault.

  “You will not speak to me again or I will send an entire army to tear your precious family to pieces, do you understand me?!” I want to respond, to show him he has not broken me, but fear for Charlie keeps me quiet. I nod, the only submission he will get from me, and he sneers in victory. My cut must have had some effect though, because he abruptly leaves me alone shouting as he exits the room.

  The blood from the cuts on my face is really pouring and I know I need to do something about it. I close my eyes like Mom taught me and try to find a memory to use. My search is interrupted by the entrance of the sentry, or one of them anyway. Ugly ass creatures all look alike to me. The huge beast crosses the floor to stand before me and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what comes next.

  “We should probably stop meeting like this,” I manage to cough out at him, the thick metal taste of the blood running into my mouth choking me. The bastard ignores me, stepping up close before pulling its large hoofed-like hand back in a wide arch.