by Emily Bybee
The council erupted in voices, each shouting to be heard. The head councilman held up his hand. “First, we must deal with the boy.” His sneer rested on me. “You may have saved his life, but you are not the smartest witch here.”
My muscles trembled and I leaned against Abby. “Please,” I pleaded. “Please let him go. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Oh, we’ll let him go. But not with his memories.”
He raised a hand, palm out, as energy gathered on his fingers.
My mouth opened but no words formed.
“Clara, I’ll always love you,” Sam called.
The spell hit him, and he bolted ridged as if shocked with electricity.
I didn’t want to watch, didn’t want to see, but I couldn’t look away. A blank stare fell over Sam’s face. Abby squeezed me tighter, holding me up. The minute the spell took seemed to last a lifetime.
“There,” the councilman said with a smirk. “Let’s see how I did. And don’t worry yourself overmuch, your spell prevented me from damaging him.”
Sam blinked several times, coming out of his daze. “Where am I?”
“Sam,” I called. “Are you okay?”
His gaze settled on me, and his brows drew together. “Do I know you?”
They might as well have killed me. It would have been less painful. His words cut like a million knives to my heart.
My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor, Abby sat beside me with her arms still around my shoulders. At least he’s alive and free. I told myself over and over in my mind. But it did nothing to fill the gaping hole in my chest.
“Take the boy back to Denver and be sure he never speaks of this to anyone. Now for Miss. Stark.”
The rest of the councilman’s speech fell on my deaf ears. I watched Sam allow the guards to lead him out of the room while my heart crumbled to dust and blew away.
“Please consider, with her talents, our children might be extremely powerful,” Levi’s plea penetrated my haze. He is a decent guy.
“I agree with my fellow council members.” The head councilman settled his gaze on me.
I put all my hatred, all my anger into the glare I sent back. It didn’t matter what they did now. If I was lucky, they’d put me out of my misery and kill me.
“We need to make an example and send a message to the witch world, so no one disobeys the council.” He waved a hand and guards grabbed my family and dragged them away from me to the perimeter of the room. Abby held on as long as she could, but the guards were too strong.
My parents shouted, begging for leniency.
Not caring and with no emotion left in me, I climbed to my feet and stared down each member.
“Yes, with your talents I think you could be of great value to us.” The council linked hands. “Follow my lead.”
I cast one glance to Abby and my parents, still struggling and calling out to me. “I love you.”
The pain of the magic boring into my brain dropped me to my knees. Red-hot pokers burned away parts of my mind, taking away parts of me in the process.
“Clara,” my mother’s scream was the last thing I heard.
And though a shriek shredded my throat, I never heard my own cry.
My body didn’t seem to exist anymore. Only fiery pain. I retreated into the depths of my brain, barely escaping the destructive power of the council. Farther and farther I sank. Their magic tore apart sections of neurons.
Out of reflex, I threw up a wall, then another, until one miniscule corner of my mind was protected from the council’s magic. I retreated into the box, losing my ability to see, hear, smell. The more I withdrew away from the tendrils of magic ripping my brain to shreds the more I lost.
Until I was all alone.
Darkness surrounded me—an endless vortex of blackness so deep I couldn’t see my own hands. I screamed but no sound came from my mouth. I reached out but only found emptiness. My magic didn’t respond as I no longer had a body—no longer had a connection to the outside world.
Terror washed over me. This wasn’t death. I tried to scream, fight, reach out, until exhaustion made the simplest thought difficult. Curling in on myself, I rocked, all alone while on the other side of my wall the council continued to burn and cut away chunks of my brain.
Chapter 15
When the destructive magic of the council receded, I peeked over the edge of my wall. I could see in the distance, and sounds penetrated the depths of my brain to my refuge, but I had no control over what was happening. It was like watching a movie out of my own eyes. A horror movie.
The council loomed over me, smug expressions all around.
“Now, we have a problem you can take care of for us,” the head councilman said. “A witch is spouting opposition to the council’s rule and needs to be silenced. Permanently.”
I tried to tell the council where they could shove their orders, but my body seemed to be operating on its own. At my nod of acceptance, I felt as if I was a puppet, having my strings pulled without my consent.
The councilman leaned forward. “We would appreciate a message being sent. Use your ingenuity. You will have two men at your disposal to assist you.”
“I will not need any help.” My own voice sounded through the room—but in a monotone.
What? Wait, I’m not going to kill anyone!
I struggled to regain control over my own actions, but I was merely a passenger in my body—no longer in the driver’s seat.
“She’s an old witch and shouldn’t give you too much trouble. We are anxious to see how you perform. Therefore, the men will accompany you,” another council member spoke. “Let’s hope you were worth all the energy it took to make you.”
I nodded, or she nodded, whatever robot they’d turned me into, then walked from the room. As we traveled, I rested behind my wall, peeking out every now and then. When we reached the assignment’s home, I watched the horror show, unable to tear my attention away. The observers the council sent stayed in the car, probably grading my performance.
The sweet wrinkled face of the woman who answered the door reminded me of my beloved grandmother. Her husband stood behind her in the doorway of their home.
My monotone voice shocked me again as we spoke. “You have disrespected the council and for that you must pay.”
Her expression changed from open and welcoming to twisted with fear in a second flat. Her husband made a motion to throw a spell at us as he tried to pull his wife back.
Stop! Please, stop! I cried out but the robot didn’t stop.
With a flick of the wrist, our magic paralyzed the woman and her husband. They fell to the ground, stiff as stone statues. Their bodies seemed to weigh nothing as we dragged them, one in each hand, out of the house and into the waiting car. The council must have added some magical upgrades to my strength when they ripped my mind apart.
Strangled cries escaped the woman’s lips while terror raged in her eyes. Her husband moaned, a pleading sound. Without a single shred of emotion my robot self drove several hours away to an abandoned mine in the mountains.
Sobbing internally, I continued to beg, to throw myself against the walls I’d constructed to keep me safe, but they now served as my prison. At the edge of a drop-off we pulled the couple from the car and threw them to the rough ground.
The moon hung high in the sky, lighting the night. The forest around us sat quiet as if knowing there was something unnatural in its midst. Something dangerous. A monster.
Power crackled on our hands, reflecting in the woman’s eyes as she cowered at our feet. A spell formed in the air, one I had read about years ago and thought sounded horrible. I’d never consider performing such a torturous spell, even on my worst enemy—at least not in my right mind. It burned a person from the inside out, letting them feel themselves dying as fire raged through their veins.
Oh, God, no.
While the husband watched me, still unable to move, we stood over the woman. Another flick of our wrist removed the paralyzin
g spell and the woman gasped. “Please, I didn’t mean to disrespect the council. Please stop, I have children, grandchildren.”
No sympathy washed over us, no emotion at all. The spell built and the woman tried to scramble away. She didn’t get far.
The man cried out for his wife.
We cast the spell. Her back arched as if she was being electrocuted, gurgling sounds bubbled from her lips and her entire body quaked as if live snakes raced under her skin. It wasn’t a kind or quick death. She suffered for several minutes as the spell slowly burned her. Finally, she crumpled to the ground. Her skin turned to ashes and dissolved to the dirt. All that remained was piles of dust that floated away on the breeze. Tears streamed from the man’s eyes. We shifted our focus to him.
“Let it be known that no one who opposes the council will escape punishment,” we said then turned and climbed back into the car with our waiting escort. Releasing the spell on him, we watched old man sobbing uncontrollably as he crawled to what little remained of his wife.
I’d seen enough, I melted back behind my barrier to block out any sight or sound of this horror.
When I regained enough strength, I uncurled and called out, begging for the council to release me from this prison. But it was useless.
As my life went on, I couldn’t stand to watch the horrendous acts that played out before me each time the council sent me out to deliver a death sentence. How many people had I killed now? Sickened, I curled up around the few memories I could still cling to.
Time had no meaning. Centuries might have passed. I warmed my soul in the images of Maddie on the swing, shrieking as I pushed her higher—too high by Abby’s standards. I remembered my mom, hugging me as she told me about her lost love. Nora’s laugh, ever-present optimism, and energy kept me going. But most of all, I remembered Sam. I let the strength of his love shield me. In my mind we danced a thousand times, a million times, singing and holding each other, safe in our cabin.
* * *
Never fear. For this is not the end of Clara’s story. It is merely the beginning.
A note from Emily
Thank you so much for reading the book! I truly hope that you had as much fun turning the pages as I had writing Clara and Sam’s story! I am so sorry to leave you hanging, but Clara is an integral part of the series and it is so much better to watch her story play out over time, promise!
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A word about the author
Emily grew up loving to read and escape into stories. She began writing her own at the age of twelve. In college she focused on science and graduated with a degree in Environmental Biology. After college she began writing again but quickly realized she had failed to take a single writing or grammar class. Luckily, she’s a quick learner.
Emily now lives in Colorado with her wonderful husband, three amazing children, and way too many animals. She still enjoys making up stories and can’t seem to leave out the paranormal elements because they are just too much fun.
Visit her at:
http://emilybybeebooks.com
Other Works by This Author
Fractured Magic ~ Book 1
Fatal Magic ~ Book 2
Echoes of Magic ~ Book 3 (coming October 19, 2020)