How I Found You

by Gabriella Lepore

  The demon extended one withered ivory finger and curved it into a hook shape.

  Marco stopped in his tracks. Then something strange happened. Marco clutched at his stomach, suddenly gripped by agony. As his pain worsened, his cries grew louder and more tortured. The sound was like nothing I’d ever heard before. It was unimaginable.

  No matter what issues I’d had with Marco—and believe me, I’d had many—there wasn’t a soul in the world who would not have felt empathy for his suffering. I glanced at Caicus and he looked back at me, helplessly.

  Marco crumpled to the ground, screaming and thrashing.

  I covered Rose’s ears. I was sure it wouldn’t make much difference, what with her being unconscious and all, but it was something I did nonetheless.

  Across the yard, Lathiaus’s unnerving smile broadened. It made me feel empty to look at him. Violated, even. I was looking into the face of evil. I was looking into the face of death—literally.

  I held Rose close to me, distractedly rocking her back and forth. This was bad. Very bad. I snuck a glance at Caicus. He didn’t look too healthy—although, for the first time, I noticed the advantage of his location.

  Silently, I spoke to him, Go, I told him. Get out of Millwood. He was close enough to the forest to escape without being detected.

  But he didn’t budge. He didn’t even blink. He was frozen to the spot in terror.

  I weighed up the odds of saving Marco. I knew it would be tricky at best, if it was even possible at all. I knew I’d have to try, though. What could I say? I was a glutton for punishment.

  Sadly, the decision was made for me; I didn’t get the chance to try. Marco’s number was up.

  He let out a gut-wrenching howl. Through his open mouth came an explosion of flames, which spilt over his body until he was engulfed by them.

  I bowed my head away from the disturbing scene, and hoped, for Caicus’s sake, that he was doing the same.

  I had to admit, to my shame, that I was completely powerless. By the time I returned my focus to Marco, there was nothing left of him but a pile of ashes, extinguished by the rain.

  Lathiaus basked in the glory of his kill. The slaughter seemed to have strengthened him. His corroded body moved differently now, prowling forward with a serpent-like slither. His clawed fingers massaged the air as he approached us.

  It was hard not to gawp at his face, mostly because he was so damn revolting. I retched at the sight of maggots teeming in and out of his mouth and around his eyes, feeding off the parched bone.

  Go! I ordered Caicus, willing him to move. Run!

  With a slow creak of his neck, Lathiaus turned upon his next victim.

  Caicus.

  The demon pointed his finger, then bent and twisted it into a hook—just as he had done with Marco.

  “No,” I staggered to my feet.

  He was going to kill Caicus.

  I left Rose beside the minivan and sped out into the open. Now I stood staunchly in the path between Caicus and Lathiaus.

  Run! I urged Caicus.

  Oscar, I can’t, his voice came back weakly. He’s going to kill us.

  Lathiaus’s tormenting stare was on me now.

  I tried to hold my nerve. I’ll buy you some time, I assured Caicus. Just get out of here. And take Rose with you.

  I’m not leaving you here! he whimpered.

  I gave him a fleeting look. Go. And don’t let anything happen to Rose.

  It was funny what I learned about myself when I was facing death. Like, I actually was stubborn. Wasn’t that a kicker? I’d spent eighteen years denying it, only to admit it in my final hour.

  I rubbed my hands together. “Okay, bones,” I said to Lathiaus. “You don’t look all that. Do your worst.”

  Taunting a demon? I really needed to sew my mouth up sometimes. Nah. Too restrictive. I’d take death, thanks.

  Lathiaus bared his teeth at me.

  “Lovely,” I muttered, gagging at the view.

  He extended his finger and curved it upwards.

  The pain came quicker than I’d anticipated. It was instant. And it was not like anything I’d ever experienced before, either. It burnt from the inside, as though my blood was boiling and my organs were on fire.

  I clenched my teeth, fighting the urge to cry out. My legs buckled and I dropped to the ground. I was on the gravel now, my head spinning and my mouth filling with blood. And, to my dismay, I realised I was screaming.

  I vaguely heard Caicus’s sobs, but I could barely hear anything above my own cries. I thought of two things: one being, Run, Caicus, you moron! And the other being, Rose.

  And then I heard her voice, smoother and more fluent than it had ever been. So much so, it made me wonder if she was an angel, coming to take me to the other side.

  “Stop,” she said, quite simply.

  The pain stopped.

  I opened my eyes, but all I saw was gravel, and my body didn’t seem to obey my order to move. So I lay there, looking at the granules of stone.

  “I’m the one you want,” she stated calmly. “Come here.”

  “Rose, I can’t,” I tried to speak, but my throat was singed. “Where are you?” There was no way she could have heard me. Even I couldn’t hear me.

  She spoke again. “Come here, now.” It was only then that I realised she had not been talking to me.

  From where I lay, wrecked and immobilised, I saw Lathiaus pass me, gliding towards the minivan.

  My heart began to race.

  Caicus! I called frantically. What’s going on? Am I dead? Apparently my silent voice had a lot more potency than my vocal one.

  Oscar? his words came back to me. You look dead, but I don’t think you are. How do you feel?

  I feel dead. What’s going on? I used all of my willpower to tilt my head just enough to see across the yard.

  Rose has summoned Lathiaus to her, Caicus explained.

  Through my bleary eyes, I surveyed whatever was in my line of vision. In a nutshell, Rose backing away from the minivan as the demon closed in on her.

  “Rose!” I tried to shout, but it translated as a feeble groan.

  I heard her speak. “Two will take her to him,” she began reciting the prophecy, “and all will be spared.” She paused. “Well, one took me to you. Will that do?”

  I held my breath. What was she thinking? This was suicide. I expected to hear her screams at any moment. And there would be nothing I could do about it. This was, hands down, the most petrifying moment of my life.

  “One took me to you,” she repeated, talking only to Lathiaus. “Oscar took me to you. I went all the way back to 1692. Do you remember that year, Lathiaus Rapp? It was the year you killed your first witch. The year that set you on course to become a cold-blooded demon.”

  ‘Two will take her to him, and all will be spared’? Oh hell.

  Could that be true? I wondered desperately. Our salvation doesn’t depend on us sacrificing her to him—it depends on us performing the Retracing spell?

  Caicus’s voice drifted into my mind. Do you think she’s right? he asked urgently. Do you think we were wrong all this time?

  I wasn’t ready to respond yet. Was it possible that centuries of witches had read the prophecy wrong? Were we really that stupid?

  ‘Two will turn away, and all will be slaughtered.’ Oh hell. We were that stupid.

  Two will turn away, I replied to Caicus. Not turn away from our duty, but turn away from her! Two will turn away from her, and all will be slaughtered.

  So, what does this mean? he pressed.

  It means we’re idiots. We pretty much misunderstood every line of that entire cursed prophecy!

  Hey, lucky you’re such a pain-in-the-ass rule breaker, then, he teased. Does this mean we’ve won?

  I felt the gravel move as my lips tried to smile. But my rejoicing was premature. There was another line to the prophecy. A line which I would rather have forgotten.

  ‘Before the hour turns to twelfth, she must grant
him her death.’

  We have to help her! I appealed to Caicus. I hated my limbs for refusing to comply.

  Wait, Caicus responded, with an air of nonchalance. I want to see where she’s going with this.

  Caicus! I was outraged by his remark.

  Shh, he hushed me. Give her some credit. She is the prophecy girl, after all.

  “I’m told that I have to grant you my death,” Rose carried on, oblivious to our muted conversation—and seemingly oblivious to us as well. “I don’t want to do that, so I’ll give you the chance to leave now. Go back and lay to rest.”

  Oh good God, she’s crazy.

  The poor girl had officially cracked. She thought Lathiaus was going to listen to a peace talk? That he was going to suddenly see the light and say, ‘Okay, I’m off back to hell, catch you on the next demonic rising’?

  Rose kept going, “I’m giving you a choice.”

  I squinted to see her. My vision was blurred and my eyes stung, but I couldn’t let her down. I had to fight through this.

  Through my distorted sight, I observed Lathiaus stretching out his arm and curling his finger into that lethal hook.

  “No!” The word came out that time. Though I didn’t know how loud it was, because no one paid me the slightest iota of attention. No change there, then.

  Caicus, help me, I begged. Do something! Put me in Lathiaus’s path. Don’t let him hurt Rose.

  There was no response.

  “Caicus!” I managed to get another word out. But the sheer effort of it sapped me. Why wasn’t he answering?

  What’s going on? I demanded.

  Finally his voice came back. Nothing.

  That wasn’t a sufficient answer. What do you mean?

  Nothing’s happening. He’s trying, but it’s… it’s not working.

  Then Rose spoke. “Double jeopardy,” she simplified. “I haven’t read the book yet, but I think I get the gist. It’s all about being prosecuted for the same crime twice. If you didn’t commit the crime but you were still tried for it, then you can’t get tried for it again.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I was burnt for being a witch, but I wasn’t one. And now you want to do it again.” She wagged her finger disapprovingly at him. “By law of double jeopardy, you can’t touch me this time.” There was a brief hesitation. “And I’m guessing that’s why I was immune to Caicus and Marco’s powers, too. I was executed for being a witch, so now I’m out of bounds. I’m off the table.”

  Lathiaus made a strange guttural rumbling sound. The sound of an angry demon.

  It was perhaps a good thing that I couldn’t get up, because I probably would have collapsed right back down again. Was this really happening? Was she off the table?

  Rose continued, coolly, “One last chance, Lathiaus Rapp. Go back to where you came from. I don’t want to grant you my death.”

  I saw Lathiaus’s silhouette reflecting off the minivan. Even his reflection was intimidating. And Rose seemed so tiny compared to him, like a mouse facing a lion. But she held her ground.

  Lathiaus turned his body, evidently bored of Rose now. What followed was a sound that made me wish for death.

  Caicus let out a howl of distress.

  Lathiaus had found a new toy.

  Just as I was about to give up hope, Rose shouted, “I warned you.”

  My focus went to her. She was holding something, but I couldn’t make out what it was. Well, not until a tiny flame flickered in her hand. She had matches. With a slow breath, she allowed the lit match to drop onto the driveway. I watched in awe as the flame instantly spread into fire, igniting on the oil spill of the overturned minivan. The flames travelled along the river of oil until they reached Lathiaus.

  “This was my death,” Rose told him, “and now I grant it to you.”

  The blaze reared up to him as though it had a mind of its own. Spitting fire leapt skywards, enveloping Lathiaus and swallowing him whole. He screeched and hissed for what felt like an eternity, and then… silence.

  I closed my eyes. I was out of the game. And so was the demon.

  The fire fizzled out in the rain, and all that was left of Lathiaus was a black cloak and a putrid heap of bones.

  Grant him her death. Ha. That she did.

  There was a long hush. I couldn’t have found the words, even if I’d had the voice to speak them. I was woozy, and my eyelids felt like lead.

  I took a final peek, just in time to see Caicus walk over to the remains. He stomped on the debris, turning the bones into nothing more than dust that would wash away with the rain.

  It was over.

  “Rose, you vanquished Lathiaus,” Caicus said, looking at her in awe. “You’ll go down in history as a hero... Hey, if anyone ever asks, will you tell them I did it?”

  And then I lost consciousness.

  Christmas Day

  MY NAME IS OSCAR VALERO.

  That’s one of the three things I know for sure.

  The other two are these:

  One—It’s snowing.

  Two—My heart is incomplete.

  I trudged inside from the winter snow, passing beneath the grand, arched doorway. My footsteps echoed off the high stone ceilings and marble floors.

  Home bitter home.

  In fact, it wasn’t until I’d experienced life in a real home that I’d noticed how much like a museum this place was. I supposed it actually had been a museum at one stage. Before we staked our claim on it.

  I kept walking, ascending a wide marble staircase. My shoes clicked on the floor. I missed carpet. Good old soundproof carpet. A few of the elders passed me, heading in the opposite direction, but we didn’t acknowledge one another. That was nothing new. They thought me to be insolent. I thought them to be pompous. Eh, it was swings and roundabouts.

  I strode along the first floor and followed the corridor around. If this really had been a museum, the exhibition rooms were now our bedchambers. Saying that, most of the bedrooms resembled exhibitions even now. Mine was okay. It was me. Lots of dark colours—browns mainly. It was fairly big. You know, standard for a dwelling like this. I had a balcony though, which I liked.

  I reached my room and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. No more Christmas merriment. Just me.

  I manoeuvred my way through the thin, brown drapes that marked the entrance to my balcony. Back outside again, the bite of frost stung my face. But it didn’t bother me. I sat on my chair, high above the world, looking out onto the white blanketed mountains. I saw nothing else. No people. No animals. Just mountains. That was our world: no one got in, no one got out.

  Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. I could have left whenever I wanted. Although what would be the point? Hell, I had nowhere to go.

  There was a scuffle at my bedroom door.

  I groaned inwardly.

  “Leave me alone,” I muttered.

  Caicus bounded in. His hair and clothes were dusted with snow. I expected mine were, too.

  “Where did you go?” he asked, fumbling through the drapes to join me out on the balcony.

  “To my room,” I replied, deliberately stating the obvious.

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s Christmas. Come outside and play.”

  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “I don’t want to play.”

  “So, what do you plan on doing? Moping around up here all day?”

  “Yes.”

  “Suit yourself.” He shrugged, still in annoyingly high spirits. With a hop, he pounced onto the metallic railing of the balcony and jumped down onto the snow-coated ground below. It was a fifty-foot drop, so he really made a splash when he hit the bottom.

  He whooped in delight and threw a snowball at me, then scampered off like an excitable puppy.

  The missile shot past my head and exploded against the balcony wall. I scarcely glanced. It was obliterated now, just powder on the granite. How easy it was for something with such a seemingly solid mass to instantly reduce to nothing.

  I closed my eyes indignantly.
>
  I was a snowball.

  I used to be a solid mass, ready to cause mayhem, but now I was spent, scattered and broken. Sure, my battle wounds had healed—the literal ones, anyway. They always did. It was only my heart that would not mend.

  I wasn’t looking for pity. I chose it to be this way. I chose to leave, and I chose never to recover. I sent myself to emotional purgatory. And that was where I was determined to reside.

  After that night, what followed was merely a blur of irrevocable events. This was how I remembered them…

  I regained consciousness around an hour after Lathiaus was vanquished. I was unable to move or speak, but Rose…

  I winced. It hurt to think her name.

  …Rose sat beside me through the night, easing the pain and listening patiently as I tried to speak. Gradually my body healed. By morning, my voice had returned, and my limbs were my own again. Mary and Roger came home and we spun them a yarn about storm damage.

  “Uh, yeah, the storm knocked over your minivan. And, uh, it knocked a couple of holes in your dining room table, too.” Et cetera.

  They didn’t question us. They were good people. They probably gave allowances to us, assuming the party had got a little out of hand. Which I supposed it had. Ha.

  For a long time, I truly believed that I would stay with her. With Rose. I could picture it, in a blissfully ignorant sort of way. But even in my modest fantasies, it seemed too good to be true. In hindsight, it was too good to be true.

  I think that realisation first came to me when Rose started griping about the bores of returning to school. I suddenly became aware that she was human. She had a human life, and she was fragile and precious. The severity of what I’d put her through began to dawn on me. I couldn’t bear the thought of it. She was a human and I’d dragged her into a violent, ferocious world—one which she should never have been exposed to. It was reckless, selfish and irresponsible of me.

  And what exactly did I plan on doing? Bringing her along on every mission I had? Taking her to every underworld battle that I’d be assigned to? Being a witch was a vocation. We were warriors. And she was just a girl.