by Ruby Brown
Deciding that she would worry about Trixie’s slow decline into madness later, Mal got up and threw herself against the door, pounding against it uselessly with her fists. The door didn’t budge. Overcome, she growled in frustration and paced up and down, running her hands through her hair. She was painfully aware of Trixie’s eyes following her and kept thinking to herself that she needed to be strong, she needed to keep it together for her, but she was just so fucking sick of it, of guarding her every move and thought and word just in case a little bit of the blackness seeped through. She was officially done, and if Trixie would do nothing other than sit and stare at her like she was crazy, then whatever. Who cared anymore? What did it even matter?
Despite the apathy lurking behind her anger, Mal didn’t stop trying to get out of the van. She tried everything she could think of and screamed at Trixie to help her, begged even, but Trixie never moved. The sweat mingled with the tears and formed a terrible concoction of sadness and anger, exhaustion and failure. She was still banging at the walls and door like something deranged when the van lurched to a sudden stop, causing Mal to fall over. Instantly, she got to her feet and hurriedly wiped away all evidence of her emotions so that when the door opened and Asher appeared, Mal could fix him with the coldest, most furious and deadly glare she could muster. He looked mildly disturbed and shocked for half a second, but then he regained his composure and grabbed her arm to haul her out of the van. His grip was so tight it left bruises. Although Trixie had flinched away when Mal had tried to touch her, she didn’t show any form of resistance when she was grabbed by another member of Asher's team, who had been riding in the passenger’s seat, and the two girls were led down the neatly paved streets leading away from the narrow, grimy alleyway where Asher had parked the van.
Mal noticed that Asher and his friend had gotten changed into normal clothes instead of the combat uniforms they were wearing earlier. The reasoning behind this soon became clear as when they turned a corner Mal realised they were in the middle of the city. The sudden colour and noise was like fireworks exploding inside her skull, a flash of brightness and life that she wasn’t used to anymore. It felt so strange to her treading the streets she’d marched up and down countless times before, but with a gun digging into her back. She was made of paper, light and barely there, crumpled by her emotions and carried away on the wind of her thoughts, while everyone else was just so...existent. It was suffocating.
Asher walked her down the streets hurriedly, with purpose, but also with a lot of fear. Mal could see it in the way his feet stumbled and his eyes looked. He seemed to be using her arm as some form of stress ball, for his grip tightened every half second until his knuckles looked like they were going to rip through his skin. Mal wished he would stop. It hurt.
Eventually, they arrived at a small shop tucked in the corner of one of the floors, buried under the bright lights and brand names of the huge department stores either side of it. People barely glanced as it as they glided on the polished floors, laden down with bags and bags of purchases that they’d convinced themselves they needed or they would make them happy. When they stepped inside, Mal was instantly choking on the lavender smell that hung heavily in the air. The tables around them were piled with soaps, candles, air fresheners and various cat-related objects. Shelves with books full of knitting patterns lined the pastel-green walls. They all looked so out of place compared to the old couples meandering around the store, talking in soft, hushed voices. Mal had been in here several times before to buy presents for her own grandma.
A woman with bright blonde hair, blazing red lipstick that matched her glaring red heels and blue eyes that sparkled behind her glasses walked towards them, which was not made easier by the ridiculously tight black skirt she wore. Every single one of her sparkling white teeth were made visible when she beamed at them. “Hi! How can I help?” she asked in a chirpy voice, looking at each of them in turn with an expectant expression. Her eyes lingered on Mal and Trixie, possibly taking in their dirty clothes and messy hair.
Asher leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. Instantly, the woman’s expression changed from manically happy and upbeat to a deadly kind of serious. “I see,” she said gravely, and took off her glasses to polish the lenses on her white blouse, patterned with navy blue polka-dots. She put her glasses back on, and then briskly said “come with me”.
She turned and marched away, with the others following. She opened a door marked STOREROOM, and ushered them inside. The piles of boxes made it difficult to see and the dust made it difficult to breathe. They had trouble squeezing through the narrow aisles, twisting and turning like a snake until the woman made them stop. “If I get my clothes all dusty because of this, you owe me,” she said venomously as she knelt down and started moving a pile of boxes. Asher bared his sharp teeth at her in a vicious imitation of a smile.
As the final box was removed, Mal could see two rusted iron handles sticking up from the floor, which the woman grabbed and pulled apart to open up the trapdoor. When Mal craned her neck, she could see the staircase leading down into the darkness. Without hesitation, Asher started dragging her down, hauling her by one arm so hurriedly that she struggled not to fall flat on her face as she stumbled. The darkness got more and more dense as they went down, to the point where Mal couldn’t see anything. An eerie silence fell across the group, meaning that all Mal could hear was her heart thudding in her ears. Her arm was starting to go numb from how hard Asher was gripping it.
Suddenly, lights started flaring to life on the walls, one after the other, making Mal wince as the sudden brightness assaulted her. She could hear Trixie hissing and whimpering as the lights turned on, as if she was allergic to the glow that surrounded them. Once Mal’s eyes had adjusted, she could see that they were standing in a basement with a dirt floor. The white paint that once covered the walls was old and peeling away, revealing the dirty and crumbling bricks beneath like gaping wounds.
Footsteps started to echo through the walls, shaking the ceiling so that little bits of dirt and grime fell onto their shoulders and got caught in their hair. They fell into rhythm with the painfully fast pounding of Mal’s heart. It was so uniform, so eerie. It felt like if one of those footsteps faltered and was even slightly out of time, something terrible would happen. One by one, people dressed in the same purple and gold robes Asher had been dressed in when Mal had first seen him. They had their hoods up, obscuring their faces in deep shadow as they marched forwards and took their places at the front of the room, standing in an ordered pattern unknown to everyone except themselves.
And then Blaise appeared.
The sudden, burning hatred Mal felt as soon as she saw the familiar blue and purple hair was alarming. All her other emotions melted away like ice under a glaring sun, forced to one side as the distaste spiralled and twisted through her veins, bringing a sour taste to her mouth. Her exhaustion was replaced with a sudden spike of energy, zapping her like a thousand volts of electricity. She felt the corner of her mouth lift up in a snarl, and her eyes narrow. But then she realised something was wrong. She had never seen Blaise like this. He was quiet, subdued, scared even. Although he could feel Mal’s eyes burning holes in his flesh, he was looking everywhere but at her. It was almost as if he was ashamed. Mal thought that she should be taking some kind of pleasure from this, seeing the man that had caused her and the people she cared about so much pain looking so defeated, but all it caused her was a sick sense of dread. What had caused this sudden personality change? What could have sapped his arrogant personality from his bones until he was nothing but a shell?
She was about to find out.
A final set of eerily echoing footsteps reached her ears, and immediately the atmosphere of the room changed. It seemed as if everyone tensed up and took a deep breath in, preparing themselves for what was about to come. Mal tried to crane her neck to see who the footsteps belonged to, but Asher grabbed her shoulders and forced her to kneel on the dirt floor. Trixie’s guard
made her do the same. Even Blaise dropped to one knee in respect for this mysterious creature.
Asher had one hand on the back of her head to stop her looking up, but Mal could see the feet of this person when they walked in front of her. They were encased in shimmering black shoes that could barely be seen due to the lengths of the swathes of dark fabric making up the persons outfit. Delicate, shining seams of gold intricately danced their way through the material. Mal’s rabid curiosity was gnawing a hole through her chest, but she forced herself to stay still as the person walked to the front of the room and paused for a second, as if observing the scene in front of them and relishing the power, the control they had over every single person in that room.
“Rise,” said a disgustingly familiar voice. For a moment Mal forgot where she was, caught up in the sudden realisation that had hit her and ripped every other sensation other than a hollow numbness from her. She was brought back to reality by a sudden hit of pain as Asher wrenched at her hair to force her to stand. Bile rose in her throat and left a sour taste in her mouth as she cautiously looked up at the person in front of her, pleading with every power imaginable that what she saw was proof against what she had heard.
It was Cass.
Chapter 32
She was confident and brave, the kind of leader to build you up or tear you down. Her eyes, shining with malice, skipped around the room and never missed a single detail. She was undoubtedly alert and wary, but who would dare challenge such an intimidating figure? When she looked at Mal’s trembling body, her gaze was so full of hatred that it made goose bumps appear on her arms. A slow grin spread across her face, not the soft smile Mal was used to seeing from her, but the cruel grin of a killer.
“Cass?” Mal choked out. There was a part of her that had been relieved and happy when she’d seen Cass, believing that she would save her, take her back to Tenebar which was the only place she felt safe anymore. She studied the depths of Cass’s blue eyes, looking for a hint of compassion and warmth, but there was nothing. The Cass she knew was gone.
Then there was the distinct sound of a sword being drawn from a sheath and a high-pitched whimper. Mal whirled around and saw that one of the members of the cult had an arm around Trixie’s body, and his other hand held a frighteningly large, curved knife to her throat. Trixie was shaking violently, struggling to hold back the tears that ran down her face and be brave in front of her friend, but she just couldn’t. She was just a kid, and she’d reached her breaking point long ago.
“If you resist, I’ll kill her,” Cass said as Mal spun around to face her again. The worst part was that Mal could tell she wanted to hurt Trixie. She wanted to watch her crimson blood darken the dirt floor and to the cries and screams and the begging. It was up to Mal to keep Trixie alive, and she promised herself that she would do whatever it took. Her gaze when she looked at Cass was so cold it could freeze the burning sun, but she put her hands behind her back and lowered her head in a sign of submission. Cass’s lips quirked upwards. Then she shook back her sleeves and stepped forward. On instinct, Mal flinched backwards and brought her hands up to protect herself, although she knew she was powerless. She closed her eyes in anticipation of what was to come.
“Wait!” Blaise, of all people, cried out. He threw himself forward and stood in between Cass and Mal. The tremors in his hands showed how scared he was, but his eyes held a grim determination.
Cass looked shocked that anyone had dared challenge her. The surprise quickly gave way to a blazing anger. She clearly wasn’t used to being argued with. “Blaise, get out!”
“Listen to me,” Blaise urged, his voice low and quick. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do!” Cass cried, and for the first time there was some sort of emotion in her voice, a raw pain that refused to stay buried even after all these years. “She disgraced us. Cut off your wings and sent us here as punishment when we had done nothing wrong! This is our only chance.”
Mal looked around the room and saw that the rest of them were nodding along to Cass’s words. Were they all fallen angels?
“I understand. You want revenge on Praethen for all she’s done to us. I wanted that too, for a very long time. You know that. But this isn’t worth it. It’s all gone too far.”
“You helped me! You encouraged me for years,” Cass argued. “You even came up with the plan for extracting her powers and giving them to me so I could challenge Praethen and punish her. We would have them by now if Asher hadn’t ruined everything.” Cass glared at him and Asher bowed his head in shame.
“I thought...” Blaise began, and then his voice cracked and he dropped his gaze. He took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. “I thought that if I helped you and gave you what you wanted, you’d come back to me.” He looked back up at Cass.” This hatred...it’s corrupted and twisted you. You’re not my sister anymore. You’re some kind of demon. You have to let this go before it kills you. I just want my sister back.”
Mal’s heart wrenched as he said those last words. She was forcefully reminded of how much she wanted Felix back, how his absence haunted her. A part of her was still waiting for him to come home, and she always would be. Blaise looked just as sad and scared as she felt.
The expression on Cass’s face changed, and for a moment Mal thought that Blaise had gotten through to her and everything was going to be okay. But then her face hardened and her eyes flashed like steel. “No. We’ve come too far to give up now. And since you dared to challenge me, you can do it.” Cass crossed her arms and stared intently at her brother, an unspoken threat lurking in the air.
“I can’t do that to her,” Blaise said, but his voice was shaking.
“Do it!” Cass shrieked. Mal winced away from the sound. Blaise shook his head and Cass raised her hand. A bolt of magic, far too quick for Mal to see what it was, sparked through the air and hit Blaise’s arm. He immediately screamed in pain and staggered backwards, clutching his forearm. When he pulled his hand away, the flesh was black and decaying, crumbling at his touch. “Don’t make me do it again,” Cass threatened.
Blaise turned away from his sister and stared directly at Mal. He raised both of his hands and took a deep breath in. Mal realised a second too late what was about to happen. “No, please don’t...” her begging was cut short by the sounds of her screaming. Her legs crumpled beneath her and she fell to the floor, writhing in an attempt to shake off the beasts that tore at her body and ripped her apart.
Then it stopped. Covered in sweat and panting, Mal looked up to see Blaise with his face buried in his hands, sobbing brokenly. His entire body shook with the weight of it all. The crying echoed around the room, and all Mal could do was stare. A part of her wanted to hug him, but mostly she was just afraid. She’d never seen someone so beaten before, and it was such a massive change from the Blaise she thought she knew. “I can’t do it,” he said.
“Pathetic,” Cass scoffed.
Blaise looked at Mal with tears running down his face. His eyes were wild and hectic, searching for something that no one could explain. “Mal, I’m...” he began urgently, but then Mal blinked and he was nothing more than a pile of ashes on the floor. She stared at it in shock, her mind racing to process what had happened.
“What a shame,” Cass said, walking up to the ashes and kicking them with her foot. They spilled out across the floor. “He was such a good puppet. A good actor too, I’m sure you’ll agree. He had you all convinced. But in the end, I guess he was just a coward.”
Mal was too shocked to speak. Her body started to shake and her breathing became quicker. She caught a flash of movement in the corner of her eye and looked up, startled. Cass was standing over her, undoubtedly prepared to finish what Blaise had started. Weak, startled and completely defeated, Mal just closed her eyes and waited for the pain. She wouldn’t fight it this time. She didn’t care anymore.
Suddenly, there was a massive crash and the sound of screaming and pounding footsteps. Someone shouted in pain and hit th
e floor with a loud thud. Mal’s eyes snapped open and she whirled around. Thomas was hugging Trixie tightly as the body of her guard lay on the ground, blood pouring from his head and turning the dirt black. Claire, Dallas and Rose came in through the trapdoor, and almost immediately Rose fired two perfect shots and two more bodies crumpled to the floor. Dallas charged forward with his battle axe, and Mal heard him say “Cass?” Her heart fell when she realised he was coming to the same horrible realisation as she had.
Claire ran straight to Mal and fell to her knees, brushing her hair away from her face and checking for a pulse. Mal grumbled and pushed her hands away. She hated people making a fuss over her. She tried to stand to show that she was okay, but for some reason her body wasn’t responding to her brain.
“She’s not getting up!” Claire shouted at Rose as she appeared next to them.
“Oh for...” Rose trailed off in an angry sigh and then holstered her guns. Effortlessly, she scooped Mal’s body up in her arms and put her over her shoulder. Mal started to feel incredibly nauseous, and Rose’s shoulder digging into her stomach didn’t help. “We’re out of here!” Rose shouted and then started running up the stairs. The others followed her. Thomas was struggling to support Trixie, who was half-leaning on him, so Dallas picked her up instead and carried her bridal-style up the stairs.
Rose dumped Mal on the dusty floor of the storeroom and then turned back around to encourage the others up the stairs, ignoring Mal’s groans of pain. As soon as Thomas leapt up the final steps, she slammed the trapdoor shut. Dallas took his battle axe off of his back and slid it underneath the handles of the trapdoor to try and stop them coming up, but everyone knew they didn’t have long.
Rose propped Mal up against the wall and started aggressively shaking her. “Mal? Mal! Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. You have to walk. Can you do that?”