by T. L. Martin
The others accompanying her were now silently lining the walls like diligent bodyguards, though they didn’t attempt to hide their fascination. After all, they had the best seats in the house.
“Trust me,” I muttered. “I know you. You wanted me, so here I am. No one else has to get hurt.”
Ignoring me completely, she beamed. “Oh! You’re good with games. How about we play another one?” Her hands were clasped over crossed legs, and her posture was impeccable. “You agree to sync with me, and I’ll let you see who’s locked up behind you? Hmm?”
The chains rattled loudly as I pulled against them, but they refused to budge. “I’ll never sync with you,” I stated firmly.
“That’s no way to begin our relationship. Is it, darling?” Her lips curved downward in a mock frown as she rose gracefully from her seat. She began leisurely meandering around me.
“You know, we could have been friends, you and I. I’m not the ‘big bad witch’ you think I am, Charlotte. In fact, I was originally planning on spoiling you rotten for a little exchange. You give me what I want, I give you what you want—that sort of thing.” She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling in indignation. “And it would have worked, too, if you’d just stayed in your little hermit world and didn’t run into that ridiculous tea shop. I could have approached this whole thing differently. Now look at us...me hiding out in some wretched hole—well, that’s nothing new. But, you? You’re about to be stuck in a coffin.” She stopped abruptly and looked over at me, cupping a hand over her mouth. “Oops! That part was supposed to be a surprise.” She sounded giddy now, and her eyes flashed with delirium.
I tried to maintain a poker face, despite the terror jolting through me.
Who did she have locked up behind me? Was it the same person whose blood was used on my mirror? My muscles were almost numb from straining against the chains, and when I attempted to peek at the prisoner once more, dizziness temporarily blurred my vision.
“Save your strength, sweet girl,” Tempest cooed. “For every time you pull against those chains, some of your muscles are momentarily rendered ineffective. Isn’t magic simply brilliant?”
Some of those in the small audience along the wall seemed to be enjoying my discomfort, leaning forward for a closer look, while others appeared disinterested completely.
“Pierce. Jovan,” Tempest snapped, all humor gone from her eyes. “Do it now. Then step outside.” She turned her attention to the others, her words sharp. “All of you.”
Two solidly built men stepped forward, kneeling down and unhooking the chains from around my wrists, then my ankles.
Something yellow caught my attention on each of their forearms, and I squinted my eyes to focus. It was a star tattoo—one I recalled seeing not too long ago near Face Rock. These men must have been part of the same coven as my first attacker. I wanted to fight, but my body refused to cooperate. My arms dangled loosely at my sides, with my legs rejecting all efforts to hold themselves.
One of the men scooped me up, while the other remained on his knees as he fumbled with some sort of latch on the ground. The sound of steel scraping steel echoed around us as he managed to pull a long rectangular door open.
My body trembled with fear. It was indeed a coffin—one already buried securely into the ground. They gradually lowered me into the dark hole, and I felt the cold, stone-hard touch of rough cement beneath my bones. Once that door closed over my body, I knew there would not be enough room to lift my arms or turn over, even if I could somehow manage to muster the strength.
Tempest leaned over me with feigned sympathy. “Remember, darling. You can choose to end this whenever you’d like.” She started to turn away when something stopped her. “And don’t think Priscilla or your prized Guardian Angels will be rescuing you any time soon. I’ve provided them with a fun mixed bag of...distractions,” she added with a smirk.
I looked right back at her. “I’ll never agree to help you.” My voice came out shakier than I’d intended, and Tempest grinned.
“We will find out, soon enough.”
The heavy coffin door slammed shut above me, leaving me with nothing but constricted darkness. Every second felt like a minute, and the sound of my pounding heart and uneven breathing intensified.
“Where to begin, where to begin...” Tempest’s voice rang clearly in my ears in spite of the coffin’s overly thick door, and I knew she must have tampered with it somehow to ensure I wouldn’t miss a beat.
“I know!” she exclaimed proudly. I heard the clack of her hands clapping together. “How about your parents?”
If there was any benefit to being behind the steel door, it was that she couldn’t receive the satisfaction of seeing my eyes widen in horror.
“Oh yes, darling,” she continued, noting my silence. “I’ve been watching you for some time now.”
I swallowed hard, with my voice but a whisper. “What do you know about my parents?”
“Sweet woman, your mother,” she sang, her voice distant in the memory. “And your father...oh, the poor man would do anything for her. For you.” She sounded almost resentful now but quickly covered it up, returning to her sugary tone. “Now, their accident? That was never part of the plan, believe it or not. Ruined everything, in fact. I was having a bit of innocent fun taunting your mother for a long while—and I mean harmless, party hat magic, okay? Just for show. But, good Lord, did that woman take things seriously! If I knew she was going to freak out on me and start researching this thing on her own, I would have reconsidered. But she had to get all worked up. Even discovered the Almighty Savior, Priscilla,” she bitterly spat out those last words before composing herself and continuing, “Suddenly, dear mother was rushing to get you the hell over to Bandon for protection. And, well...look where that got you guys, right?” She let out a soft cackle. “The woman was too spooked to be out driving in a heavy storm. She couldn’t calm down enough to take her damn time and had to get into an accident.”
My whole body shook as I took in Tempest’s words. My mother had learned of this realm far before I ever did. She was simply trying to rush me to safety. I could feel the warm tears sliding slowly down my face. How different things would have been if the accident had never happened.
“But you ended up in this creepy little haven town, anyway,” Tempest continued with contempt. “It’s a shame, really. I wasn’t even planning to use any real magic—you know, the good stuff—on them for years to come. Priscilla was light years behind me in terms of discovering the Opal, and my magic was her only way of tracking me. Why bother using it on you and subsequently revealing the Opal’s whereabouts to Priscilla before absolutely necessary, right?” She paused, adding, “Besides, your abilities weren’t even supposed to come into effect until you were eighteen.”
My breathing grew more labored by the second, and my body began to sweat from the heat. I was already running out of air, hardly listening to her rambling anymore. All I could think about were my parents.
For the first time in a long time, I let my thoughts open up to them. My mom and dad. I had never really allowed myself to do so in the past—and it pained me so much whenever I did—because I could hardly remember much about them at all. How’s that for guilt? It wasn’t that I didn’t try—I did. I tried so hard to make out their faces, their dispositions...anything at all to remind me of what it felt like. What they felt like. But no matter how many days, weeks, or months I used to spend on trying to focus, all I could ever come up with were the discombobulated fragments of a four-year-old’s perspective—and faded ones at that.
The one thing I did remember, always clearly and with ease, was the sound of their voices when we would sing. I used to pretend that if our family ever had a “thing”, singing was it, since those were my only lucid memories with them. It didn’t matter if it was bedtime, early morning, or if our mouths were stuffed with food, there seemed to be no wrong time for a nursery rhyme.
High heels clicked above me as Tempest returned to pacing, and
I reluctantly brought myself back to the coffin. To the witch. She wasn’t leisurely strolling this time, however. Instead, her footsteps sounded rushed, and her voice grew impatient.
“Obviously, I didn’t know stealing the journal three years ago would move your timeline up. Damn ancestors always getting their panties in a twist,” she mumbled.
My attention peaked. So there was a journal, after all—and Tempest had had it in her possession for three entire years. Three years to study it, to learn and memorize the things I so desperately needed to know.
It wasn’t until then that a certain thought crossed my mind: if Tempest had been so intent on keeping tabs on me, on my family, all this time, could those violet-eyed people be real? The ones who I could swear seemed to be watching me? Could she be the one responsible?
“So are they your spies?” I croaked through what little air I could pull through my lungs. “Those people...with the violet eyes...”
“Violet what?” she asked, and I was surprised to hear the bafflement in her voice. “Oh, child...the lack of air really does get to you in there.”
I could no longer muster a response through my tightening throat, as I lay helplessly in the intolerable confinement. So I kept my thoughts to myself. Priscilla had already told me Tempest was not one to let anything go unclaimed. If she’d had anything to do with it, she would certainly have admitted so—probably with pride, too.
I supposed the eyes really were nothing more than a figment of my anxiety-filled imagination, after all.
“Any who,” she sang, her voice shifting back to a chirpier tone. “All of that’s behind us now, and everything is almost as it should be. Oh! And you would never guess how easy it was to make all my new friends. Who knew Priscilla—the queen of peace and love—would have garnered so many enemies.” She laughed frivolously. “It’s that absurd Gala that’s ruffling everyone’s feathers. I’m telling you, that witch does not know when to stop with this naive notion of unity. I can hardly believe she’s made as much progress as she has on the little movement.”
I was all but panting now, as Tempest’s voice began to drift deeper into the distance. Finally, I barely managed to lift my forearms enough to press against the door of the coffin. But it was useless. The steel was thick and immovable.
“But,” she continued, “you saw for yourself some of those who have joined me—vampires, demons, and witches alike. And that’s just a small fraction of them. Not the most trustworthy of helpers, I know,” she mumbled bitterly. “Some of whom have already tried to swipe the Opal from under my nose. Oh, you remember...that ridiculous excuse for a necklace Patrick stole from you. Pathetic. Am I right?” She chuckled. “Luckily, all I’ve revealed to them is that you have the Opal, not who you are. Anyway, all it took to get the little rats on my side was a simple deal: they help me obtain the Opal, and when I sync, I kill Priscilla. They were quite happy at the prospect of going back to their normal way of life, free to kill each other without judgement. And, as we all know, who better to kill a Primary than another Primary, right? As much as I hate to admit it, I’m not quite a match against her. But with you...”
Her voice faded, and I heard the sound of a chair dragging along the bumpy ground above. It stopped a few feet away from me. Tempest plopped herself down with a sigh. “Ironic. Isn’t it? That the one thing these creatures hate so much is actually bringing them together.” Lowering her voice to a hushed whisper, she added with a small laugh, “And they’re too damn stupid to realize it.”
The latch above me clicked loudly.
“Oh, boys,” Tempest called.
A moment later, the door was thrust open, and I gasped desperately for air. Pierce and Jovan immediately lifted my body, and, once again, I found myself too weak to fight back. I was able to go through the motions now that the weakening enchantment from earlier had worn off, but it was feeble. I may as well still have been clawing against the steel door.
“Charlotte, Charlotte,” Tempest tsked. “I thought I told you to save your strength.”
“Go screw yourself,” I wheezed as the two men chained me back to the chair.
Her jaw dropped in mock horror. “Manners, darling. I did just relieve you from a dreadful coffin, after all. Now, have you made the right decision yet?”
“I told you before, and I’ll tell you again,” I muttered evenly. “You will never get what you want from me.”
“See, now, I thought you might say that,” she said with a smile.
Before I knew what was happening, the men had already unchained me, and I was being forced back into the hole. Tempest’s head loomed over me from above the open coffin. Jovan and Pierce continued to hold me down as I fought helplessly against them.
“I thought you might like a little taste of fresh air. A reminder. But now, I think you will be amazed at what this coffin can do. A little enchantment can go a long way.” She winked, and the steel door slammed shut, returning me to utter darkness.
Thinking back to my so-called plan, I almost lost it completely. I would have been kicking myself if I could. What was I thinking? I managed to get my friends out of harm’s way, which had always been my priority, and I’d gotten my wish of being face to face with Tempest...but now what? I really thought I could defeat her now that I’d synced with Priscilla. But the fact was: I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I didn’t know any spells, incantations, or enchantments. Not like Tempest. I’d been so foolish...though I guess there was nothing quite like sitting in a coffin to put things in perspective.
I shoved desperately against the door, already feeling my lungs close up, when three small holes formed in the door above my face, instantly providing me with just enough air to get by. I tried to slip my hands through the holes but they would only fit three fingers at a time. Unsure of its purpose, I was hesitant about letting myself feel grateful for the extra air.
I laid still in apprehension for a moment.
It started at my toes as a warm sensation. Gradually, heat spread up my legs, torso, and along my arms, until it reached my head. The feeling was uncomfortable but bearable—not unlike being inside a sauna. As the seconds passed, my skin grew clammy. The warmth kicked up a notch, until I desperately needed to find a way to cool off. Though I could breathe, the heat alone felt suffocating. Only moments later, it intensified. It changed, growing sharper, like when you get too close to a fire. I tried to shift my position, but it was no use; the space was too tight.
I cried out in agonizing pain as scorching flames suddenly torched my feet. Instead of subsiding or simmering down, it only spread up my body. I screamed like I had never screamed before, watching the wild orange and red flames multiply, dreading the moment their scorch would hit my face. The tormenting pain shot through every inch of me, ensuring no part might feel relief. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, just screamed and wished I would pass out so the suffering would end. I couldn’t even hear my cries anymore, for my throat had dried out. All I could sense was the unbelievable, anguishing pain searing through me, beyond my skin and blistering my bones themselves.
Suddenly, it was gone. In a single instant the heat had evaporated. Shaking uncontrollably, I finally forced my eyes to open.
There was no sign of a fire, no burning smell or otherwise. My skin, from what little I could see, looked untouched, and there was nothing at all to indicate the suffering I had felt. Nothing but for my uneven breathing and the terror still clinging to my mind.
I closed my eyes, inhaling a deep breath and exhaling slowly. But before I had a chance to recover, an entirely different sensation was already taking over. It began at my toes once more but hardened over my skin like ice. This wasn’t an ordinary cold feeling. It was biting enough that it felt similar to fire, like a thousand small knives stabbing through my skin all at once. As the intolerable frost slithered up my body, my insides froze over. I couldn’t move a muscle and fought to inhale. I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as possible.
“It isn’t real. It isn�
��t real. It...isn’t...real.” I repeated the mantra in a chattering, quivering whisper, over and over again, until my throat had frozen so completely that it refused to cooperate.
“It’s real enough to kill you.” Tempest’s voice rang chirpily through the coffin. “If I let it. Remember, darling: a simple ‘yes’ will make it all stop. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers in demonstration.
Her footsteps clacked as she returned to pacing lazily above me. She was enjoying this.
“Really, Charlotte. I don’t see why you’re fighting this so hard,” she murmured curiously. “If you choose me, you’ll have it made. I can give you any kind of life you desire and offer you full protection. Forever. You do realize I’m not the only one who wants you, don’t you, child? You’ll be running your whole life without me by your side. Priscilla is strong and all, sure. But you and I both know she’s too soft for the job. The woman’s never killed anyone in her life,” she scoffed. “I mean, just look at me—living proof of her naivety. Should have killed me when she had the chance, right?” Her laugh echoed all around me as her footsteps faded into the distance.
The iciness had started to melt away, leaving me shivering as I focused yet again on calming my breathing. Her words repeated themselves time and time again in my head as the next episode began.
It was water this time, cold as the Arctic in the dead of winter. I could feel it rising, inch by inch, making its way past my arm, my ear, my chin. I waited until the last possible moment to draw in as deep of a breath as I could manage, just before it devoured me whole. I left my eyes open this time, watching when my breath began to escape, creating small bubbles above my face. I gasped, my hands clawing at my throat as I struggled for air. But only water filled my lungs, tightening every muscle in a spasm-like fit.
Just as I was on the brink of full suffocation, it vanished. I choked, coughing and gasping all at once, trying to take in as much air as humanly possible.