Forgotten

by Victoria DeLuis

  Thomas sighed. “He’s going to kill him, Summer. This is the job gone bad he told Leah about; this is where we choose to save him. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll find Rhys and get out of here.”

  “Okay. We find Rhys,” I said, although I experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  What remained unspoken was Leah’s warning that not all of us would make it back. Thomas could hold on to his hope that Trystan would save me, but I felt the curse drawing near. The important thing now was to find Rhys and get him away from Dureth.

  Chapter Nineteen

  With our masks back in place and my skirt righted, we set off through the Manor House.

  Thomas heard Dureth tell the guards to secure Rhys upstairs until after the party, so we made our way to the top of the building, slipping through the hallways and up the stairs, trying to stay inconspicuous with our masks in place. Revellers spread throughout the house, and more than once, Thomas pulled me into an embrace and planted a kiss of my lips.

  Of all the possible ways to spend my last hours with Thomas, I supposed there could be worse.

  A clock struck eleven, chiming out the hour and sending all the guests scurrying down to the main ballroom. Thomas pulled me into a window alcove.

  “What do you think’s happening?” he asked.

  “Not a clue.” Three guards ran past. “But whatever it is could be to our advantage.”

  When there was no one left in sight, we slipped from the alcove, and after a few moments, found an entrance to the attic.

  Thomas gripped my hand, and together we crept up the narrow staircase, lit by a single bare bulb. The room at the top was locked, so Thomas used his skills to open the door.

  Rhys Roberts jumped to his feet as soon as we entered the room. “No,” he almost screamed, his voice tinged with anguish. “You shouldn’t have come.”

  His face was drawn and pale in the unnatural light, and his fingers shook as he ran towards me.

  “We’ve come to get you out of here,” I said.

  “You don’t understand.” Rhys clasped my hands and squeezed them tightly. Thomas glanced at them, but I shook my head to tell him it didn’t matter.

  “Carys, Gwen. They could have protected you both. They could have saved you both.” Rhys released his grip on my hands and started to pace the small room. “Think,” he said. “Think, there has to be something we can do.” He glanced at Thomas. “Something. What if I stay, refuse to leave... No, wouldn’t work. Dureth, I could kill Dureth.” He shook his head. “I never make it past the first floor. It’s eleven, we could... no time.”

  “Are you catching any of this?” I said in a side whisper to Thomas.

  “Nope, and I must admit this isn’t quite the reception I imagined.”

  Rhys strode towards Thomas and gripped his shoulders. “Ha! You could run. As fast as you can. Maybe... maybe we could tie the curtains together, lower you to the ground. You have to go... you have to get away. No wards can protect you here.”

  My mind swam as I tried to make sense of Rhys’ frantic words. He wasn’t afraid for me. He was afraid for Thomas.

  No, no, no.

  “Stop it,” I shouted when Rhys started to mutter incoherently again.

  He froze.

  I levelled my eyes at his. “Explain yourself.”

  Rhys dropped to the floor and placed his head in his hands. “I told Leah it was important that you didn’t come. You couldn’t come. I told her how dangerous it was. She was meant to stop you.” He glanced at Thomas again.

  I pulled his hands from his head and looked him in the eye. “Why do you keep doing that? Why are looking at Thomas? The curse is coming for me.”

  “You’re a beautiful girl.” Rhys’ eyes rested on my face. “So much like your mother.” He reached out and held my hand, gently this time, consoling. “You have to be stronger than she was. You have to fight.”

  Cold fear gripped my heart as I paused to consider his words. I’d been so stupid. How did I not see this coming?

  I rose to my feet and flung my arms around Thomas, pulling him tighter and tighter towards me. There was no way in hell I’d ever let go.

  “I’ll find you,” I said, even if I have to tear free from the afterlife, I’m not letting him keep you.”

  “You have to stay strong,” Rhys repeated on the floor. “Stronger than your mother. You should never have come. The wards, the wards can’t protect him here. Carys and Gwen, they’ve never connected with Thomas, never joined their mind as one with his. They can’t reach him.”

  Thomas pulled my tearful face up to meet his and kissed me on the forehead. “‘Her lover will be confined to the land of my people forevermore,’” he said, reciting the words of the curse.

  “‘Their mixed-blood abomination will suffer the same fate,’” I added. “I’ll find you,” I said again.

  “Course you will.” Thomas smiled. “Just don’t take too long about it. We’re getting married in a few months.”

  “Damn right, we are.”

  The warmth of his smile enveloped me. His arms wrapped me in a blanket of tenderness. The curse came down like a smothering force. It struck and I stumbled, but Thomas held on to me, unwilling to let go until he was ripped from my arms.

  “Be careful,” I said.

  “Aren’t I always?” He smiled at me one last time and waggled his eyebrows.

  I chuckled for Thomas’ benefit, though my soul ripped in two. A frosty shiver ran through me, and an unseen force pushed at the edge of my consciousness. My world spun.

  Thomas disappeared.

  A cheer rose from the party below.

  I fell to the ground bereft...

  For a time, I floated, nameless and lost amongst the universe. An image of Mam and Gwen sat cross-legged in my living room flashed in my mind, and an agonising, blood-curdling shriek pierced the air. It was only after the noise subsided that I realised it had come from me.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rhys was by my side in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry,” he said. “There’s no time. We have to go... now.”

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and counted to ten. Mam and Gwen had prevented the curse from destroying me. I’d have to deal with the consequences of that another time. Right now, Dureth had taken Thomas.

  Rhys took a step back.

  “No. It’s too dangerous.” He reached out to touch me but stopped. “It’s okay.” He gulped. One look at my face told him something terrible was about to happen and he’d better not stand in my way.

  His gaze drifted towards the small window. He stared ahead, as though viewing an unshared vision, and smiled. “It really is okay. Someone comes. I can’t get a clear picture. He’s cloaked in illusion, but he will help.”

  Grief blanketed my mind to his words. I stood tall and ignited my magic, calling every ounce of my power to me. Then, I reached out to the surrounding trees and drew in more. My heart thundered and my eyes blazed. My twenty tattoos flared with power and filled my veins with fire.

  I swept past Rhys, out of the room, and down the stairs. Every fibre of my being was focused on reaching Dureth. Guards ran towards me on the second floor. I brushed them aside with a wave of my hand.

  I was dimly aware of Rhys trailing behind me, but a dark mood of churning anger flooded my mind and made me indifferent to his plight. Each of my steps through the house echoed in my ears, creating a rhythmic chant in my mind: Find Dureth. Destroy him.

  I reached the top of the wide staircase above the ballroom and used the power of the fir to enhance my voice.

  “I once promised to bring the roof down on your head,” I said, as all eyes turned to me. “It’s time to fulfil that promise.”

  I thrust my right hand in the air and released an orb. It hurled upwards. The plaster blasted away, a cloud of dust rained on the crowds below. The chandelier shook before breaking its setting and crashing to the ground.

  The supernatural guests screamed in fear and outrage. Some gat
hered to confront me. Others ran to the doors. I let them leave.

  Dureth appeared from the side wall, clapping his hands and laughing. “So good of you to join your party,” he said. “I do like a guest of honour who makes an entrance.”

  Anger boiled inside. The party, the cheering when the curse hit, Dureth was celebrating its fruition: my demise and Thomas’ capture.

  “A little soon for celebrating, don’t you think?” I stepped one by one down the stairs, never moving my eyes from Dureth’s. “As I’m sure you can tell, I’m very much alive.”

  Dureth turned on his radiant smile. “But at what cost, my dear? Your poor Nana died for your mother. Who’s going to die for you?” A flicker of hatred flashed in his eyes. “Where is your mother, by the way? Oh, and where is your dear pet... Thomas?”

  I hissed with an intake of breathe before placing my hand on my heart.

  “I, Summer Daniels, mystical Rune Witch of the Ogham faith, beloved by humans, and welcomed as one by ancient trees, do swear to you, Dureth Mallyn, deceitful and ignoble member of the Tylwyth Teg, Lord of the Mynnydd y Garth, I will not rest until my lover is freed from your realm, and your body is buried six-feet under. As the true half-blood daughter of Dylan Mallyn of the Tylwyth Teg, I accept these binding terms and vow, even if I have to break free from the afterlife to achieve it, I will see my uncle in his grave.”

  A flurry of blue light surrounded me, seeping into my soul, and binding it by magic to its fate.

  A flicker of fear flashed through Dureth’s eyes before anger suffused his face. Even if I died now, my soul was oath-bound to come after him. The supernatural partygoers stood frozen. Even they felt the impact of my words.

  I know that magic can corrupt, that too many times it was Thomas who kept me grounded. Now, I had to rely on my connection with the trees to cleanse my soul and forgive me for the damage I was about to cause. I thrust my hands in front of my face, palms facing each other and created another orb.

  “Get out,” I said to Rhys and anyone else who cared to listen. “Now!”

  Rhys ran passed me, down the stairs and out the doors. The other guests were too busy trying to make their own escape to bother with the druid.

  Thunder rolled outside as the much-promised storm broke above our heads. I fed all the rage, anger, and hatred I felt towards Dureth, and all the love and fear I felt for Thomas into my magic. A blazing indigo light more radiant than the sun gathered between my hands, sparkling and blazing like lightning. It fizzed and crackled between my hands. I pushed it upwards, way above my head, and blasted the roof clear off the manor.

  Stone, glass, and furniture rained down on the ballroom floor. I glanced around the room. Broken bottles, forgotten masks, and mislaid shoes joined with the debris from the ceiling to litter the floor. I briefly registered that Dureth was gone, but didn’t care. He knew I would come for him.

  Magic vibrated through my body. I swept the orb in an arc and dug it deep into a ground that rumbled in protest. Centuries-old foundations keened as they were ripped apart and the walls came tumbling down.

  The wind howled, whipping my hair around my head and pinning the skirt of my dress to my legs. With one hand, I channelled the power of the rowan to create a shield and protect myself from the falling debris and chaos surrounding me. With the other, I combined the power of the hawthorn and fir, and used their raw energy to cleanse the remains of the building of all furnishing and possessions.

  Tables disintegrated in an indigo haze. Glasses and bottles popped and cracked before melting under the onslaught. What dim lighting remained sparked and fizzled with electricity before the lights went completely out, and all that lit the night sky was the radiance of my magic and the lights of cars as they raced away from the party. The sharp zing of energy, like the scent of ozone before the rain sets in, filled my nostrils.

  An explosion sounded. Gas pipes burst and ignited in flame.

  We all store our lives within us: every sight, every sound, and every smell. We also store every feeling, and if I could bottle what I felt at that moment and use it as a weapon, the whole world would be destroyed. Instead, I pushed it down, I’d need it to free Thomas.

  I released my magic and stumbled to the broken ground.

  A dizziness overtook me. My mind whirled and my vision swam. A torrent of rain hit my face and fizzled in the flames that engulfed the building. I suddenly felt too drained to lift a finger, to feel emotion.

  Darkness gathered around me. I had the vague sensation that someone approached, but I couldn’t open my eyes to see who.

  Ha! I thought, the joke’s on you, Dureth. Even if I die, you’ll never find peace.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sometime later, I awoke at home in my own bed. My mind was foggy and my body ached as I tried to rise. Light streamed through the open curtains, and I smiled, thinking that Thomas must have opened them.

  Voices bubbled from below, but even without hearing their words, I knew something was wrong. I ran downstairs and burst into the kitchen, only to find Mam and Trystan sitting at the kitchen table.

  Panic clouded my mind. Thomas wasn’t here. I ignited the power in my veins just to feel something. More and more energy I pulled inside until I thought I’d burst.

  Mam ran towards me. “Summer.” She reached for my arm, but pulled away when my touch burned her fingers.

  My heart thundered and I screamed.

  Trystan jumped to his feet and gripped my shoulder. “Summer, stop,” he demanded.

  Rage shook me to my core. “Did you know this would happen?” I asked Mam. “Did you plan this?”

  Mam looked at me sadly. “Plan? No. Prepare for the possibility? Yes.”

  “How could you do this to me? How could you let Dureth take Thomas?”

  “We hoped to save you both, but, in the end, we couldn’t.”

  “Did Thomas know?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. Thomas was always cleverer than me. He knew the words of the curse, even stressed that words were important. Of course, he knew. Thomas would always put my life above his own. Had done so many times.

  I released my magic and sat at the kitchen table. Mam sat tepidly opposite me. “And now you have the curse,” I said, softly. “How much time do you think you have?”

  Mam took a deep breath and turned to Trystan for reassurance. It was strange how I’d thought he’d be a friend for Thomas to cling to. I snorted an incredulous laugh. I bet Thomas thought he’d be the same for me.

  “How long?” I asked again.

  “Summer. I didn’t take the curse from you.”

  An image of Mam and Gwen sitting crossed legged in the living room surface in my mind. “Where’s Gwen?” I asked. A hint of panic tinged my voice.

  Mam reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “She’s upstairs, sleeping.” She pulled me down when I tried to rise. “Leave her to rest. I don’t think she has long. A week, maybe less.”

  “How could you let—”

  “Summer, it was Gwen’s choice to make.”

  “The hell it was.”

  I stood and paced the room.

  “Alright. Enough.” Trystan slammed a cup of tea down on the table. “You,” he said, pointing at me. “Sit and drink.”

  I did as I was told, though the hot liquid tasted bitter in my mouth.

  “Now, I can’t profess to have known you for very long. But I do know that the woman before me is not the hot-headed, defiant, and somewhat challenging one I met a few days ago, and I have to say, I’m not impressed.”

  He’s not impressed. Well neither am I. Thomas was gone, Gwen was dying, and I didn’t have a clue what to do. I’d failed them both. I took another sip of the blackthorn bark tea.

  “You know,” Trystan continued. “I should have just rescued Thomas on that mountain and left you to the mercy of the witches. Creating a scene, destroying a five-hundred-year-old building, and then just laying down amongst the flames to die. I don’t think Thomas would be very impressed with
your actions, either.”

  My nostrils flared. How dare he? I took a deep breath, pushed my cup away, and squared up to Trystan.

  “Thank you for bringing me home,” I said, and smiled coldly. “But if you aren’t out of my house in five seconds, I’ll show you a bloody scene.”

  “Yeah. You think you can take me on, witch? I’m not afraid of your magic.” Trystan glared at me and crossed his arms.

  I huffed. “You should be.”

  “And you should stop dwelling in self-pity. You think I need this crap?”

  I froze and eyed him suspiciously. “You wouldn’t be attempting to manipulate me?” I said after a moment. “I’ve had enough of games.”

  Trystan rested his hand on my shoulder. “Then stop playing them,” he said. “I’m pretty sure we now have two men to rescue from the land of the Tylwyth Teg, and a witch... sorry, Gwen, to save from a curse. We really don’t have time for your pity party.”

  “Fine.” I backed away from Trystan, sat back at the table and lifted the tea to my lips.

  Trystan sat next to Mam and smiled at her.

  “But,” I added, “I don’t care who you are. You talk to me like that and you’d better be afraid.”

  Trystan narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, as though assessing my resolve. “I’ll talk to you better when I feel like you’ve earned it,” he said.

  I almost growled. It took every power of restraint I had not to stand up and punch him in the face. But deep down, I knew he was right. I’d been playing right into Dureth’s hands and acting like a victim. The plain truth was, without Thomas, I was broken. Nothing could change that. But I’d vowed to fight beyond the grave if necessary and I meant it.

  Trystan looked at me and gave me a slight nod of approval. If anything, it made me want to punch him even more.

  “Right,” Mam said, clapping her hands down on the table. “To use one of Summer’s expressions... What do we know?”