Their mum led him out of the store and up to the café while their father sat on the couch, waiting for them to leave. At the chime of the bell, he leaned forward. ‘Is your brother right?’
Hella nodded. ‘Yes,’ she admitted, remembering Henry and the crazed Dimitri, then the guards, and the angels. ‘On multiple accounts, in fact.’ For the first time, her father stood up and came to kneel by Hella. ‘What happened to you, Hella?’
Exhaustion weighed heavy on her body. ‘I was abducted, by humans who call themselves The Force. Remy thought my magic was out of control, so they pretended to keep me there for my own good. Then tried to shoot me. Then angels attacked, and...’ She trailed off, too tired. ‘A lot,’ she finished.
‘Oh, Hellora.’ He brought her into a hug that felt welcome, and warm. Then he pulled back examining her. Like Elliot, his eyes fell on the amulet. ‘Your magic is what’s gotten you into all of this, you know. Thinking that you know what’s right and wrong.’ He shook his head. ‘You don’t know.’
The gears of her exhausted mind worked. ‘What are you talking about?’ She frowned up at him as he sat in an opposite armchair.
‘Hella, you’re my daughter. I hope you know how important that is. It’s more important than your prophecy, than your magic-freak friends. Than that old witch. Magic is the reason you’re here. It’s the reason your friends are here. It’s your fault, you know that, don’t you?’
Something in her froze in pain. ‘They… they locked me up, dad. That wasn’t my fault.’
He leaned forward, putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘Oh, my sweet girl. Of course it’s not your fault—not that you have magic. You didn’t ask for it. But you’re using it. You need to stop.’
Hella barked out an incredulous laugh. ‘I can’t, dad. I have to help them. I know you don’t understand, but the angels—they just killed—’
‘Oh, Hella. I understand more than anyone,’ he interrupted. ‘Angels are not your problem. They are their problem. They only hunt you because you help them. Just stop.’ He made it sound to reasonable, so black and white.
‘I can’t believe what you’re saying.’ Her heart was beating faster, and she couldn’t comprehend why her father wouldn’t want her to do the right thing. Protecting her new friends, standing between an angel and Harrow—it felt so natural.
‘Your mother wouldn’t listen to me. Witches,’ he spat the word like a curse. ‘Listen, my girl, you have to stop, or I’ll have to stop you. I won’t watch you get yourself killed protecting demons.’ His hands on her shoulders were like vices, clamped down hard and unyielding. ‘Look at you, how many times have you nearly died since all this began?’
‘Dad?’ she said uncertainly. ‘I don’t understand. It’s not that simple.’
‘Stop using your—this magic you have. Just stop it.’ Whatever control of the situation he seemed to have slipped. It wasn’t just annoyance in his voice, there was a primal desperation there too. His once-familiar green Corvime eyes had gone dark, like the colour of a broken bottle. What she felt from him now was danger.
‘Dad, get off me.’ She rolled her shoulders, trying to dislodge his grip.
But he shook his head, frustrated. ‘No!’ he shouted, then backhanded her across the face, hard. Hella fell backwards off the armchair and onto the hard-carpeted floor. She watched as red blood dripped out of her nose. The world turned and blurred. Her head ached.
‘I’ve warned you, demon child. Stop using it,’ he hissed, now towering over her.
Hella shook her head, unable to see straight, then regretted the movement. ‘I will use my magic to do the right thing and help those who can’t help themselves. Dad, they need me. I’m their promised witch. I can help them,’ she said with burning vehemence. ‘I will stand and fight the angels with the Cambions, because they need me. You’re my father, whether I’m magical or not, you should want me to do the right thing.’ Through the blood, she looked up at him, a burning hope in her heart that she could make him understand.
Suddenly, he did not look like her father. He shook his head at her, disappointed. ‘My girl, I had hoped you would not be like your mother. I’ve put up with her for too long, as well. I want you to know that once I’ve put you to rest, your mother will join you soon after. All of this will stop.’
Then he produced a dagger he must have taken from the main room of the store, sharp and glinting in the firelight, the light dancing off the fire pokers and tiles surrounding the hearth. He pointed it right at her throat. ‘I gave you a choice, daughter. Remember that. You chose evil.’
Though the world still spun, Hella saw the moving silver of the dagger, and heard the slicing of the blade through the air. She raised her arms heavily, producing as strong a flame as she could with as much force as she could muster. Her vision severely blurred, she heard her father yelp at the touch of the fire and then scream as she drove it toward him, desperate for him to back away.
He gathered up something like a glass vase and threw it down at her. It thudded and crashed, then a dozen sharp pains seared her skin. Hella’s eyes squeezed shut as she heard the chiming of the bell above the door, she threw another blast of fire ahead of her with no aim or direction and heard a scuffle, as if her father backed away, then something solid and metallic and a choking noise.
Hella kept her eyes closed for a moment, her head aching. Then she opened them, and the world adjusted as her mother and younger brother walked inside. Hella registered her mother’s cry and the thud of her dropping something, before she realised what she was seeing. Her father had been forced back by her fire and, apparently, having flailed or fell, had landed on a pointed fire poker by the hearth. Which now protruded out of his chest grotesquely, a river of red blood pouring down his front.
Hella looked down, to the blinding agony in her legs and stomach, and across her hands and arms. There were large drops of silver, like mercury, splattered all over her. The dagger, held too close to her fire, had melted onto her skin. It scorched her and she could hardly breathe. The vase that he had been thrown had melted too, drops of glass-shards penetrated several areas of her body. Darkness swam at the edge of her vision. The last thing she heard before she passed out was a harsh and violent rattle of breath from her father’s body.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Hella
Her mother tried to wake her, hands careful of Hella’s wounds. Barely conscious, Hella felt herself be lifted and placed on a couch. As though through fog, she tried to open her eyes and hear what was going on. She could distinguish four separate voices. Her mother’s, Elliot’s, Remy’s and Harrow’s.
She could only discern snippets. Pain rippled throughout her body. There was a gentle hand on her head, and she wondered if it was Harrow’s. He seemed to be stroking her ashen hair soothingly.
‘I don’t know what happened.’ Hella heard her mother sobbing. ‘He must have tried to hurt her. He hated her magic. Our magic.’
Then, for the first time, Tommy’s voice, soft and sympathetic. ‘She’ll be okay. She’s strong. I tried to call Faerie House, but they’re on some sort of lock-down since the Den. They’re afraid to let anyone leave now. We need Amara.’
Harrow’s soft stroking stopped. ‘I took something,’ he admitted suddenly. ‘I think it’s what they used on her friends, James and Alexa. I met them once, but when I ran into them on their way out, they had no clue who I was. When we were inside, looking for Hella, I wandered into an office, and there was a cabinet full of these vials.’
‘That must be what they use to make the humans forget,’ Remy said. Hella opened her eyes long enough to see her take a vial of milky-white liquid from Harrow and examine the contents.
‘Use it on Hella,’ Harrow suggested.
‘What?’ Her mother’s worried voice.
‘She’s in pain,’ Harrow said, urgency in his voice, ‘and we’ve got no one to heal her. Can you adjust it, make her forget that she’s in pain?’ Hella watched Ha
rrow look at Remy, for the first time, without resentment for her backfired spell, only with hope. Tommy’s arms were folded across his chest. Neither of them had even had time to shower or change before returning to Hella’s aid.
Remy peered at the liquid, then down at her student. ‘I can try, but it might erase other things, too.’ Remy looked at Grace for approval. Her mother nodded.
‘You can’t do that! What if you erase her memories? Do you have any idea how that stuff works?’ Tommy’s voice was fierce with protection.
‘Do you have any better ideas? Look at her,’ Harrow snapped.
‘You can’t play with her mind like that,’ Tommy argued.
‘I’ve had some experience with this,’ Remy put in. ‘It can erase many things, or one thing specifically. Besides, it’s our only hope.’ She paused. ‘Unless, of course, any of you are willing to leave her like this?’
There was silence, then a resounding ‘no’ from each of them, and an extra curse spilled from Tommy’s mouth. ‘Right, then,’ Remy said, and Hella felt a weight on the couch as she sat beside her. ‘Hella, I know you can hear me. What you’re thinking about right now, focus on the pain. Just on that. On nothing else, okay? That’s important.’
Something was poured unceremoniously down her throat, and she struggled not to choke on it. Hella swallowed hard and tried only to focus on the agony ripping through the scorched parts of her legs and stomach, where it felt like the metal had melted through her flesh, all the way down to her bones. She felt hundreds of cuts where shards of glass had slashed her as the vase and shattered onto her. Her nose ached where her father had hit her, and her mouth tasted sharply of blood. Then she felt pains that were not physical, but mental and emotional. The betrayal she’d endured by Remy sending her to be locked up. The broiling, fearsome anger she felt that made her heart burn. The anguish over her friends, Alexa and James, stepping into a world in which they didn’t belong and being punished for it. Because of her.
All the pain swirled together until she could not breathe. The hate in her little brother’s eyes, that ignorant, prejudiced fear that had been mirrored in her father’s eyes. The stifling, smothering claustrophobia she had been forced to endure trapped in her cell. It all swirled together and merged like wildfire throughout her body.
‘Hella, can you hear me?’ She couldn’t tell who the floating voice belonged to, or where it was coming from, but slowly, something in her mind began to clear. Like waking from a terrible dream, suddenly everything was calm and still. The calm after a storm. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times. Concern creased Remy’s aging forehead. ‘Are you okay, dear? Do you feel anything?’
Hella sat up and realised that all eyes were on her. Harrow leaned forward, careful where he placed his hand on her cheek.
‘How do you feel?’ he asked, voice soft.
Hella sat still and thought for a moment. She looked around the room and found what she was looking for. By the hearth of the still-burning fire was a tarp over the shape of a body, her father’s. ‘He was going to kill me,’ she explained numbly. ‘He wanted me to stop using my magic. To stop helping you.’ She looked up into Harrow’s shimmered, vertical blue eyes as deep as the ocean.
‘It’s okay,’ was all Harrow said. ‘Are you in any pain, Hella?’
She blinked, confused. Then she remembered. Hella examined her body and gasped.
Tommy leaned forward, holding a first-aid kit. ‘Do you feel them?’
She shook her head, stunned. ‘No. How?’ She turned her arm over, peering into a deep and bloody cut.
Remy held up the vial. ‘Actually, with this. We weren’t able to get you a healer, so this was our only option.’
Tommy sat beside her. ‘My aunt insisted that I take first-aid training, as a member of the council, in case we’re ever able to help an injured human. I can take care of some of those for you.’
Hella swallowed, hard, examining her skin; there were melted shards of glass and globs of what used to be a dagger buried in her. She shuddered. ‘Will I feel it?’
Tommy’s green eyes softened. ‘I don’t think so. But if you do, I’ll stop.’
Her mother wrapped her arms around her daughter, tears on her cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry, honey. I had no idea your father would do something like that.’
Elliot, thus far quiet, now shyly shuffled forward. ‘I’m sorry too,’ he murmured. Elliot slowly stepped forward, then reached for Hella’s amulet. ‘You’re a good witch, aren’t you?’
Hella nodded. ‘Yes, El, I am.’ Elliot paused for a moment, then nodded. And just like that, he was wrapped up into the Corvime hug.
In her ear, he whispered, ‘Will I be a witch when I’m older?’
Hella looked up at their mum, who chuckled. ‘No, honey. Women only.’
‘Dang it. Hella, can you magic me a new computer? Ah, no, I mean. I love you.’ Their mother had tapped him on the arm and, despite her physical condition, Hella smiled, relieved.
A little while later, Grace and Elliot went home. They took her father’s body and Hella saw Remy and her mum talking, her mother’s hands over El’s ears. She assumed they were deciding how to deal with her father’s sudden and violent death.
She was sitting up on the couch while Tommy poured over her injuries. Even though she could hardly feel his work, she had decided not to watch him twist and pluck pieces of glass from her skin. Instead, she watched Harrow, who had not left her side. For her, he winced every time Tommy removed something sharp and melted.
It was almost sunrise. Remy returned a while later, a serious expression on her old face. ‘It’s daytime now,’ she declared significantly. ‘Thanks to you and Meele, we know that angels won’t be attacking during the day.’ She too winced watching Tommy work. ‘I’ve managed to get a hold of Faerie House, and since I’ve shared that information, they’ve agreed to let Amara come over, Hella. And Meele. Your healer is on the way. And we have a potion to finish. You two’—she looked over the warlock boys, still ashen and exhausted—‘I suggest you clean up, have some food and rest while you can. The angels can’t come down on us for the next twelve hours, but after that, we need to be ready. I think our final battle has come.’
Tommy put his tools down and gave a great and heavy nod. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked Hella for the tenth time.
She put a hand on his. ‘Yes, I am. Thank you.’
The boys left for their House again, this time promising to be back an hour before dark. With reinforcements.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Hella
Amara had made a very quick trip to the store to heal Hella, apologising profusely for not being able to do so sooner. Meele and Remy debriefed each other, and Hella heard Remy telling her over and over again that it was not Meele’s fault for foreseeing something they could not prevent. Then they returned to their Houses, to prepare for the evening.
Nerretti made an unexpected visit, all ruffled feathers and nervous energy. He wore protective gear over his normal white uniform, but Hella saw blistering on his pale skin. For a moment, her hand closed in a fist, about to call her fire –an angel, a threat!—until she remembered that he was an ally. Nerretti had come in the daylight, and it was burning him, but he had come anyway. ‘I’ve come from a meeting, Remy. The others will be here in less than an hour,’ he said solemnly. ‘They’ll wait until it’s truly dark. Then they’re coming here. My whole squadron. I hope your potion is ready.’
‘It is,’ Remy assured him. ‘Just make sure you do your part,’ she added significantly. The final step. Net’s betrayal. He nodded, then left abruptly as he had come, wincing at the sun’s rays.
His warning echoed in Hella’ mind, They'll be here within the hour. After dark. She cleared her head. ‘We have a battle to win,’ she said to everyone in the room. She managed to get herself cleaned up in Remy’s backroom which somehow had plumbing, and changed her clothes. Her father’s last words rang through her mind, too, a blur and jum
ble, mixed with her fear of him.
I gave you a choice, daughter. Remember that. You chose evil.
She wasn’t sure whether he had meant using her powers, or protecting the Cambions, but Yes, she thought, I’ve chosen. She looked out the window now, and wondered if they would see the dawn rise tomorrow. Or if they would all be ash in the wind by then.
Then the cavalry started to arrive, and a small flower of hope bloomed in her chest. Tommy Terra was first through the door, all shiny and freshly cleaned, his orange hair and green eyes blazed fiercely. Hella felt drawn to him, his strength. He smiled at her as he came through the door, and something inside her felt elated that it was her who could crack his façade and make him smile. Make him worry. Make him brave. He put a hand on her, looking her up and down. ‘Much better,’ he said softly, noting her lack of injuries.
Hunter and Lola arrived then, too, but Remy insisted that they only stay to help set up some protective spells. That whatever happened, Remy would not be responsible for leaving Tessa alone in the world.
Lola wrapped Hunter in her arms, nestled her nose into her girlfriend’s neck. ‘We can still help, but we can’t leave her,’ she said.
Hunter finally agreed.
Tommy and Hella went alone into the training room. ‘Harrow’s coming,’ Tommy said, ‘he wanted to go past Faerie House himself to walk Amara and Meele over safely.’
Hella nodded, trying to slow her thrumming heart. Even though they had their cavalry, she was afraid. She could burn the angels as well as they could burn her, Hella knew, but that might not be enough. What if they weren’t enough to defeat them?
A similar thought seemed to pass over Tommy’s face, and he reached for her, to comfort and reassure her. And then they were kissing. The fireplace, empty but for the smouldering coals, suddenly burst into flames with Hella’s purple fire. Her hands were running up his back, and his hands were on her face and in her still-damp hair.
‘Thank you for coming to rescue me,’ she whispered between kisses, her breath warm and uneven, remembering the earthquake at The Force.
Feathers, Tails & Broomsticks Page 30