by Lucia Ashta
I didn’t care about anything at all.
All I could think about was the wet film that coated my ear, adhering the satyr’s stench to me. Would it even wash off? Ever?
Footsteps ran toward me, but I didn’t care whose they were. I didn’t look around the demon’s face to search them out. I stared for the first time into unblinking red eyes without shirking.
“How dare you?” My voice was little more than a whisper, but I saw the satyr startle at the power that thrummed through my words.
He blinked.
I didn’t.
“Back away from me this instant.”
The satyr’s legs twitched as if his body wanted to obey even if his mind was trained always to threaten, always to push the boundaries more, always to overpower.
With effort, the satyr leaned toward me further. There was barely any room left between us, but the fraction of an inch that brought him closer to me was too much.
The satyr didn’t see it coming, bending his head back down to lick my other ear. Even I didn’t know how quickly the fire that flashed alive within me would roar.
A heartbeat thumped, exploring the vastness of my chest.
But there was no chance for another.
A great force exploded out of me, launching the satyr through the entryway and across the hall. The satyr hit the wall to the right of the tapestry that had once held him as securely as the castle walls did now.
I covered the distance in quick, sure steps, and I was there when he slumped to the floor. He was stunned as much by my power as by the force of impact. He sprawled, hairy, hooved legs wide and useless.
I closed in on him. He turned his head upward to meet the sound of my voice.
“You will not terrorize another creature, human or otherwise. Your reign of terror has come to an end.”
I didn’t give him the opportunity to respond. There was nothing he could say that would stop me from doing what I intended to do.
The element of air responded to me even before I knew I needed it. The air spiked within me, ready.
I put my hands out and lifted the air that surrounded the satyr. The matted fur hung limply from his body even though he thrashed around, resisting the invisible hands that held him.
I floated him until he hovered directly in front of his tapestry home. It was empty and dark now, the abstract outlines of a forest in the background, a setting without purpose.
I returned its purpose swiftly. I restored the satyr to the tapestry with all the delicacy he deserved. I flung him inside it. He bounced against the lone tree trunk before he landed on hooves and knees in front of it.
Immediately, he rose and stepped one hoof out of the textile. I hadn’t realized he wouldn’t automatically become the tapestry’s prisoner once he was within it.
But he had.
He realized he only had seconds to get out before I sealed him in there forever.
I raised one hand toward him again, and he froze. It was the hand that wore Marcelo’s promise ring, the ring that glowed now, hinting at all the magic it might contain. The satyr’s red eyes landed on my ring.
He didn’t move. He didn’t retract his leg, but he didn’t step out of the tapestry any further either.
“You must at least return the maiden to me.” His voice was inauthentic and supplicant.
“You won’t ever have her again.”
“But she’s part of this tapestry too! She’s part of my world. This is how she and I were created. The artist gave me the power, and she’s in my dominion. His enchantment limited us to the tapestry. We were to live within it, but I was to do with the maiden as I wished. It’s my right.”
“And now I’m changing all that.”
“But—”
“There will be no buts. The tapestry’s no longer your home. It’s now your prison.”
“You can’t do that.”
“You’re right. Perhaps I shouldn’t. But I won’t allow you to terrorize that poor girl or me or anyone else ever again. Instead of a prison, think of it as an opportunity to redeem your sins. See it as penance. Spend the time reflecting upon your actions.”
The satyr went to speak again but halted before the determined look on my face. Instead, he pushed his foot further out of the tapestry.
My hand was already uplifted. I directed the air to push his leg back into his threaded world. The satyr struggled. His eyes flared as he realized the tapestry was moments away from denying his freedom.
I lifted my other hand too, and the satyr roared, filling the entry hall with hatred and violence. An ugliness I was determined never to feel again floated around the room, sticking like an awful smell that would only dissipate but not disappear.
I twirled my finger in front of my face. My eyes never lost contact with the satyr. At first, only his upper body twisted.
My eyes lost their focus for a moment, enough to concentrate more power into my intentions. And then the power became too much for even the strong will of the satyr to resist. As if a stout gust picked up his legs, his lower body turned to match his upper body. He looked at the view that would be his forever.
I didn’t give him the chance to do anything else. The fifth element, the one that my magician teachers knew nothing about, rose to do my bidding. I wanted to seal the satyr in the tapestry, just as he was, so he couldn’t torment anyone else, not even with his frozen, embroidered stare. He might be able to move about within the tapestry, but at least the fixed image of him the rest of us would see would spare us his heinous, depraved look.
My desire was all it took. Magic was desire made manifest, and the fifth element was the coalescence of magic.
The satyr stilled. The threads bonded him where and as he was.
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About the Author
Lucía Ashta, a former attorney and architect, is an Argentinian-American author who lives in Sedona with her beloved and three daughters. She published her first story (about an unusual Cockatoo) at the age of eight, and she’s been at it ever since.
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Also by Lucía Ashta
THE WITCHING WORLD
(YA fantasy)
Magic Awakens
The Five-Petal Knot
The Merqueen
The Ginger Cat *
The Scarlet Dragon *
PLANET ORIGINS
(Space opera)
Planet Origins
Original Elements
Holographic Princess
Purple Worlds *
Planet Sand *
THE LIGHT WARRIORS
(Visionary fantasy)
Beyond Sedona *
Beyond Prophecy *
Beyond Amber *
The Prophecy of Arnaka
The Secret of Namana
A Betrayal of Time
Whispers of Pachamama
“Daughter of the Wind”
(* coming soon)
Archive.