by Emily Bybee
Realization hit me.
This wasn’t just another stop on our path to freedom. This was our freedom. Cut off from the world. Just the two of us.
Sam turned to smile at me and caught what must have been a strange look on my face. He came to my side. “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”
“No,” I said and wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him in for a long kiss. “Everything is perfect.”
Chapter 13
The next three months flew by. Sam taught me to make snares to catch rabbits—our packaged meals long since eaten. At first, I was hesitant to try the roasted meat, guilty from killing the cute bunny, but my stomach got the better of me the minute the smell hit my nose. And it actually did taste a bit like chicken.
Sam took our wooden plates and went to rinse them in our water bucket, also carved of wood. I was beginning to wonder what he couldn’t make out of wood. I enjoyed the view as he walked away from me. His biceps and triceps, while toned before, were now carved marble under his skin. When he moved, they flexed deliciously.
I looked away before he caught me drooling. Not only did Sam’s physical prowess help in the basic conditions we were living in, his knowledge was invaluable. Much as I hated the thought of his father forcing these lessons on a younger Sam, his experience definitely saved our lives.
I realized I’d forgotten about the council for an entire week. As long as I didn’t use my magic, I grew more confident each day they wouldn’t ever find us. And giving up my magic for Sam was a simple choice.
“What are you thinking about?” Sam sat down next to me.
I blinked. “Nothing, just that I don’t miss my magic.”
“Really?”
“Not really.” I shook my head, not ready to tell him abstaining from magic was actually growing harder, as if the energy wanted to get out. “I mean, maybe I’d love to conjure a chocolate cream cake with mousse filling and chocolate ganache and dark chocolate shavings.” My mouth salivated at the thought of chocolate, my stash also long since gone. I sighed. “But other than that, I’m good.”
His brow scrunched, and he busted out laughing. “Awfully specific.”
“I might have dreamed about it a time or two.”
“Well.” He stood and walked over to where he stored his pack. “I might not have a chocolate cake, but I do have a surprise.”
“A surprise?” I straightened. “Oh, did you whittle me a whistle like I asked you to?” As the words came out of my mouth, I realized how absurd they would have sounded to me six months ago, especially with the excitement I felt.
“First off. Happy Birthday.” Sam turned but kept his arms behind his back.
My mouth opened to deny today was my birthday—surely it couldn’t be August already. I closed it and counted the days in my mind then turned to look at the hatch marks Sam had carved into one of the posts.
“I could be wrong, but either today or tomorrow is August second,” Sam said. “And I figure early is better than late.”
“The summer went by so fast,” I exclaimed and turned to find him approaching with two objects wrapped in his flannel shirts. He’d used the arms of the shirts to tie bows.
“Sorry they don’t look very good.” He nodded toward the limp bows. “I’m not—”
“They’re wonderful,” I interrupted. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
With a chuckle he sat and placed the presents in front of me. He leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. “Happy eighteenth birthday, Clara.”
A single moment of sadness twisted my gut. What were my parents doing? Or Abby and Maddie?
Or Nora? We’d looked forward to turning eighteen for years—to being adults. I’d missed her birthday as well. I cleared my throat and pushed away the darkness.
Sam must have caught a glint of the emotions in my expression. He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I know you miss everyone.”
I squeezed his hand back. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to celebrate with than you.” I took his face in both my hands and pulled him in in for a kiss—definitely R-rated. Breathless, I released him and leaned back, my lower lip between my teeth.
The larger of the packages was in the red flannel. I picked it up and felt the inside. It was a solid, heavy, rectangular shape, but flat. I wrinkled my nose. “Did you make me a brick?”
“Maybe. I’m not telling.”
Savoring the moment, I took my time untying the knots and opening the fabric. Inside sat the largest chocolate bar I’d ever seen. I snapped my mouth shut before I drooled like a rabid dog. “What? How?” I picked the bar up and read the label Five Pounds of Pure Chocolate! “When did you buy this? I think I’d have noticed if you were gone for a couple weeks hiking to the nearest store.”
He arched a brow. “Oh, so you’d have missed me?”
I threw the flannel at him. “No, but I’d have noticed you were gone.”
“Geez, spend weeks carrying five pounds for a girl and she doesn’t even appreciate the guy.” He held his hands over his heart and acted out dying, sliding to the floor from his chair.
A cheerleader-esqe giggle escaped my lips. “You bought this before we hiked in?” I shook my head. “Just for my birthday?”
“I plan ahead.” Sam climbed to his feet. “Go on, open it. I know you’re dying for a bite.”
No more encouragement needed on my part, I pulled the package open, careful not to rip it too much. The bar was at least an inch thick. I bent a section along the score, and it snapped off a piece the size of a candy bar. I broke the hunk in half and held out one to Sam.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes, slowly.
He chuckled and took the candy but waited for me to take a bite. Absolute ecstasy exploded in my mouth. I might have groaned once, or twice, maybe continually. My eyes closed of their own accord. It tasted like home.
“Wow, have I awakened your inner chocoholic?”
“Yeah, you better watch out when this is gone.”
“Are you even going to open your other present or should I just put it away?” He reached for the blue-gray flannel.
“No.” I grabbed the package. “I’m opening it.” I took my time licking chocolate from my fingers then set about opening the present. My brow crinkled. Inside was a simple cassette player, obviously old.
“Push the play button,” Sam hinted.
I pressed play and the opening song from Grease erupted from the speakers. My heart fizzed like Pop Rocks and burst in my chest.
Sam stood and held out a hand. “Dance?”
“I’d love to.” I couldn’t stop the tears dripping down my face over my smile.
He pulled me into his arms, and we danced and sang our way around the compact space of the cabin. The choreography came back as if the play was yesterday, not months ago. I stepped on a chair and leapt into Sam’s waiting arms. He spun me. We didn’t miss a beat. And we didn’t stop until the tape played the final tune.
We ended up breathless, in each other’s arms. I stared into his eyes and knew I was home. It didn’t matter where I was. As long as I was with Sam everything felt right.
We played the tape every night for the next two months, sometimes dancing, sometimes not, until the batteries ran out. Sam promised to hike out and buy more, but I shook my head and started singing the songs without accompaniment. And we danced.
“Do you think they’ll ever stop looking for us?” Sam asked one night as we lay in bed.
The time we snuggled together before we fell asleep was my favorite time of day. We talked about everything from our favorite books as kids to if they faked the moon landing. I snuggled closer to his chest, craving his warmth. October definitely brought colder temperatures with it.
“I was actually wondering if maybe they haven’t given up already.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “Would you think it was really stupid if we hiked out of here? Maybe in the spring?”
He sucked i
n a deep breath. “You know more about the council than I do.”
“Not in this situation. But I can’t imagine one witch would be so valuable to them that they’d spend over six months looking for me.”
“If you think it’s safe then we can hike out. We either have to go, like now, or get snowed in and wait until spring.” He shifted and lifted his head so he could meet my gaze. “But don’t do it for me. I’m happy to stay here with you for the rest of my life.”
“Me too. But we can’t hide forever.”
His lips twisted in a smirk. “Does this have anything to do with your dwindling chocolate supply?”
“Oh yeah, totally.” I pushed at his chest. “That’s the real reason.”
“Just checking. You never know with chocoholics.”
The smile fell from my lips. “So…we’re really going to do this? Leave the valley?” It was our own little corner of the world—safe from witch politics and arranged marriages. “When would be better?”
“Honestly, if you’re ready to go, I say we pack it out now. No telling how bad the winter will be.”
The piles of wood surrounding the cabin flashed in my mind. “But all the wood you chopped.”
“Ah, good exercise.” He flexed his arm and shivers went down my spine at the feel of his muscle. “Maybe we’ll come back here someday to use it.”
I firmed my resolve. Despite the seclusion and safety of the valley leaving felt like the better option for some reason. “Okay, so we pack up and go tomorrow? The day after?”
He shrugged. “We have all the dried fish and rabbit. We could be loaded up and ready by mid-morning if we get up early.”
“Then we better get some sleep.” I leaned over to kiss him. “We don’t want to be tired.”
He pulled me back for another kiss. “I’m not tired.”
The splintering crash of wood sent me bolting up in the sleeping bag. Sam’s strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me close as he protected my body with his own. Moonlight shone through the broken door. My first thought was predators—bears or mountain lion. But this predator was much worse.
My muscles stiffened. My mouth dried up. Four figures stepped through the doorway over the broken wood. Their magic tickled my senses. Something I hadn’t felt in months.
“Clara Stark,” the largest of the goons said as his gaze met mine. “The council has been looking for you.”
Chapter 14
Sam held onto me with all his might, but even he wasn’t strong enough against magic. With the flick of a wrist the goon ripped me from the sleeping bag and sent me sprawling across the wooden floor of the cabin. A scream shredded my throat. Two goons approached me then yanked me to my feet.
“What should he do with him?” The third goon pointed his chin at Sam crouched on the bed platform, ready to spring like a leopard.
The leader contemplated Sam for a moment. “Kill him. Make it look like an animal attack.”
“No,” I screamed. Something inside my mind broke open. My voice carried not only sound but all the pent-up magic I’d refrained from using these past months.
The magic washed over the room in a wave, shimmering as it cascaded over each surface. Domes of protection spells lit up around each of the goons—they wouldn’t be affected by any spell I threw at them. But Sam, the focus of my mind and spell, absorbed the energy like a dry sponge with water. He gasped, his back arching as if in pain before it he relaxed and slumped on the bed.
“What have you done?” the head goon demanded.
I couldn’t answer. I wasn’t even sure myself. My only thought in my head had been don’t hurt Sam. I had no clue what my power did with my order. Magic could have a mind of its own.
The goon’s brows drew together into one long fuzzy caterpillar across his forehead. His gaze darted back to Sam who pushed himself into a sitting position and blinked a few times.
“Are you okay?” I gasped, straining against the grip of the brutes.
Sam examined his skin, his eyes wide. “I’m okay.”
“Not for long, unfortunately.” The third goon stepped forward and held his hand up facing Sam.
His spell arced across the room before I could scream. Lightning shot from his palm to Sam’s chest. Witch lightning was one of the most painful ways to kill. But Sam didn’t scream.
He flinched from the bright light but then stared at his chest where the bolt entered.
“What the hell?” The goon frowned. He renewed his efforts and sent more energy into the lightning.
I stared as Sam, seemingly unaffected by the brutal spell, rose from the bed and stood.
The witch finally dropped his spell to avoid depleting his powers. “How is this possible?”
“No clue,” Sam said and flexed his hands. “But how about we fight the old-fashioned way?” He charged the goon, tackling him around the waist and drove him into the solid wood of the cabin wall.
The goon’s protective shield did nothing against the physical attack, and the man crumpled under Sam’s fists as they flew.
For a moment my heart quickened, daring to believe we had a chance. But the goon was smarter than he looked. He released a different spell on Sam, fire.
The blinding fireball stopped Sam’s fists as he used his hands to shield his face, and he stumbled back out of reflex before he realized the fire wasn’t burning him. As he moved to attack the man again the witch changed his tactics. Instead of an offensive spell he threw a binding spell. The bands wrapped around Sam like a Boa Constrictor, squeezing him tightly but not hurting him.
The goon rose from the floor and wiped blood from his mouth. “Interesting.” He turned to me. “It seems we can’t hurt your boyfriend—but we can capture him.”
My heart shrank as hope leaked out. At least they can’t hurt Sam. I met his gaze and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“What do we do with him for now?” asked one of the goons holding me.
“He gets to come with us to stand before the council.”
I struggled again, aiming my magic at the goons this time in hopes I could break through the barriers. My spells might as well have been feathers launched at a castle wall.
The last thing I felt was their power touching my brain. Then nothing but darkness.
Cool, smooth stone pressed against my cheek to the point of bruising. Voices buzzed around me like angry bees. I forced my eyelids open and squinted against the pain covering the entire surface of my body. They must have dragged me across the mountains over every rock they could find.
My vision focused on a person sitting against the wall. I’d recognize that form anywhere. Sam. I pushed off the cold floor. “Sam,” I croaked, my throat so dry it practically cracked. I swallowed. “Sam?”
“I’m okay, Clara,” Sam called back.
I realized the buzz of voices had stopped. I lay in the center of an elaborate marble room. Columns rose from the floor to hold the high ceiling. On an arched dais, sat chairs of stone, thrones really. In those chairs rested some extremely pissed-off people—and they were all glaring at me.
“Miss. Clara Stark,” the man toward the center spoke. “We’ve been looking for you for months.” He clucked his tongue to chastise me. “It was especially bright of you to stop using your powers. It made our job much more difficult.”
“How did you find us then?” I demanded, refusing to be cowed by these puffed-up council members.
A woman in a Sari on the end spoke. “We resorted to searching places the ungifted boy knew. His father’s brain was very helpful in providing the information we needed.”
Sam’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together.
“You have made entirely too much trouble for us with the poor example you set,” the woman continued with her lilted accent. “We have young witches from all over trying to run away from their betrothals.” She shook her head. “Fortunately, they are not as clever as you and were caught within a few weeks.”
“Yes,” the man near the center spoke up a
gain. “You started quite the revolt.” He waved to two guards at the doors. “Bring in her family.”
I gasped as a set of doors opened and my parents and Abby walked in, armed guards ushering them along. My mother looked like she’d aged ten years in the months I was gone. My dad walked beside her, holding her hand. Abby followed, her head held high and her back straight. Grief and guilt crushed me against the marble floor. “I’m sorry.”
Abby rushed to my side and helped me to my feet then wrapped me in her arms. “I know why you did it,” she whispered then turned to the council and spoke, “We beseech the council to have mercy as they have on the other confused youth. We brought her betrothed.” She waved a hand to a lone figure walking into the room, Levi. “He holds no grudge and is happy to marry as soon as the council deems proper.”
Eight sets of council eyes turned to Levi. He stood firm under their scrutiny.
“Is this true?” the man asked.
I recognized him as the head of the council.
“Yes, I hold nothing against Miss. Stark. She is young and willful.” Levi’s gaze darted to me. “I’m sure we can work together to marry and follow the council law.”
If it saves Sam and my family. I nodded.
“What of the boy?” another council member spoke up to his fellow council members. “With the spell on him we are not able to harm him.”
Levi glanced at Sam then at me. My insides turned to liquid. I may have just sentenced Sam to a lifetime of imprisonment.
“Yes. I’m even more impressed at Miss. Stark’s talents.” The head councilman rested his chin on his fist. “She created a spell we, even collectively, can’t break.”
“Even more reason to let her marry and have children,” Abby jumped in.
“I disagree, she has sparked a revolt.” The councilman in the end chair glared at me. “If we continue to let the young disobey our orders with nothing but a slap on the wrist, they will continue this disrespect.”