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The Last Moon Witch

Page 16

by Feyra Silverlock


  Power surged through the air as the temperature plummeted. Kanruo’s breath came in white clouds of vapor. The sweat that coated his body froze over, petrifying him. His pulse bounded beneath his skin, snapping the layer of frost that covered him. The crystal-thin ice shattered, leaving him shivering uncontrollably.

  Bit by bit, it all came together. The pieces became larger as they all started to click into place. The mass was impossibly large. Heavy. So very heavy.

  When would the bridge be complete? When would it finally be over?

  See how strong you could be? How mighty? Volac holds only a fraction of our power. Give in and you can win against him.

  So that was what this was. A nauseatingly transparent exercise in power seduction.

  He could give in. It would be so easy to fall into the Void’s waiting arms.

  No. No, he had to endure.

  Blood hemorrhaged from his nose and streamed from under his eyelids. Droplets of vital fluid lifted from his skin, suckled out of his pores. It stretched until it could no longer resist the pull of the forces before him, careening into the amalgamation taking form.

  A wretched sob tore free from his lungs. The tendons in his legs strained, rippling under paper thin flesh. Even as he shivered, his brain was alight. A phosphorus flare had been set off inside his skull.

  But it was not finished.

  He gave one last push. A black gem floated into the bridge he’d created. The little gem nestled itself into the forehead of a skull at the structure’s pinnacle. He jerked back, repelled by what he had created.

  A bridge that extended to nowhere, reaching across the horizon. The structure towered over his and Volac’s heads as ribs, femurs, and ulnas wove together. Spinal vertebrae were stitched with wire into a decorative outer fringe. The circuit boards, each cradled in its own skull or pelvis, blinked and flashed, drawing power from the crystals embedded in the cupped bones of hands offered up in a sacrificial gesture.

  Kanruo stared up at it, trembling in horrified awe.

  Then the bridge strained against his hold, leaning to and fro. The bones creaked, pushed to their breaking point as the structure bent toward the two men with a groan.

  Driven by a feral sense of self-preservation, Kanruo threw his hands up, pouring all his focus into preventing the gateway from collapsing on them.

  He could feel Volac move from behind him, and he shut his eyes, afraid of what he might see.

  With ease, the older man took hold of the ropes of Void magic. The power flowing through Kanruo left his body in a rush, like a stopper pulled on a bathtub.

  He collapsed to the ground, vision hazy as he watched Volac dance with the Void.

  You’re weak without us, don’t you see? You can’t save anything. You can’t even save yourself.

  Flicking the heavy cords of magic as if they were sashes, Volac leaned into the motions. An air of intimacy filled the space as his fingers caressed the structure, reinforcing the groaning metal.

  “That’s right, up you go. Beautiful thing, you,” Volac crooned to the bridge as it righted itself. He threw loops of Void magic around it, tethering it to the bone trees around them. With a sigh, the gate straightened, the vertebrae along its outer edge crackling and crunching as it settled.

  He turned back to Kanruo.

  “You have done well little witch,” he murmured. “Look at what you have helped to create. Soon, soon the Void will come, vessel or no vessel.”

  Kanruo’s breath caught in his throat as it clicked into place.

  If the bridge created a connection that allowed the worst of the Void to come through, then . . . then . . .

  “Soon.” Volac’s mouth watered as he turned back to the base of the bridge. He ran his hands over it, fingers caressing the melded metal and bones.

  Matter manipulation witches were creators by nature, but it took only the smallest of pushes to send them down the path of a Destroyer. To mold them into the perfect vessel. How lucky he’d been to have found such a strong one.

  We are hungry. The Void nudged him, appetite as voracious as ever.

  “We need just a few more things,” Volac promised as the Void brushed up against him affectionately. “And a little bit longer. The way will open, and you will be able to sate your hunger.”

  It had been five years since he’d brought this little witch to the citadel. He was strong, a perfect conduit for the Void, even if he wouldn’t outright accept it. If a suitable host could not be fashioned to house the Void, then the next best option was carving out a path that connected their realities.

  And when all was complete, the Void would feast on everyone. Everything. Humans without discrimination, planets, stars, and galaxies. Joy, suffering, all of it. It would all be devoured and reborn as something bright and shining.

  The Void magic rippled out from his little witch, the residual power echoing off his living conduit. There was a raw potential within him, an earnest and foolish belief that the boy persisted with. It was tantalizing.

  But he had to restrain himself. It was not yet time. There were others to sate his appetite. He couldn’t touch his little pet again, not now.

  Volac could sense the boy’s exhaustion, his trembling. This was the trickiest part. The little witch was so strong. If he ever realized that he could break free of his fetters, then there would be no standing against him. It would only take a simple snap of his fingers to dissolve the greenscreen world he was trapped in.

  The boy was young, inexperienced, and frightened, which made it much easier to halt each rebellion. Grinding his pet down was a full-time job that required careful diligence. Volac had to make sure he never realized his full potential, had to ensure that the boy would never attempt to tame the Void on his own terms. But as long as he continued to apply pressure to the little witch and kept him trapped in this hellish petri dish, there was nothing to fear.

  Volac watched the husk of a human push himself to his feet. Something was wrong. The boy could barely stand, but another force propelled him forward. The cheap perfume of hope no longer clung to him. Instead, something dangerous took its place. Something worse. Apathy.

  Kanruo panted, his vision fading in and out as he struggled to remain on his feet. He fixated on a single golden thread that glimmered before him. A defiant magical sapling had sprouted from the dead earth.

  Was this real? The ether was cut off from this plane of reality. Was he dreaming? Whatever the source, he had to push forward. He had to stop Volac. It didn’t matter if he died in the end. None of it mattered.

  Kanruo seized the thread, drawing the well of light to him. He felt the pull of the ether, the warm bubbling spring of energy, inviting him to take a dip in its clear waters.

  “No more,” he whispered as Volac turned to face him.

  “No more! No more! NO MORE! I WON’T LET YOU!” Kanruo screamed. He threw his arms out. A massive tidal wave washed through him, gathering speed as it thundered toward its target.

  The wall of golden light sent Volac backward down the length of the courtyard. He slammed into the far wall, causing a massive crack to form in the marble.

  Kanruo took a wobbly step forward, teeth bared in a snarl. Then another. No more. He could stop this. He had to.

  The thread of magic he clung to snapped, leaving him without support, and he collapsed.

  Volac snorted and then began to cackle. The laughter carried through the halls, metal shards dragging across a slate board. Kanruo covered his ears, curling in on himself.

  Oh, no. No. No. No. He shouldn’t have done that! He shouldn’t have done that! No! No! No!

  “You think you’re strong, little witch.” Volac took a step forward and with a CRACK and a flash of light, he was gone. Kanruo peered at the spot where he had stood.

  A second CRACK echoed through the wasteland and Volac stood before Kanruo. “Arrogance.”

  Kanruo whimpered, bracing himself for the punishment as Volac yanked him to his feet.

  “Useless. Pathetic.
Weak.” With each word, Volac backhanded him, the steady slap-slap-slap echoing off the marble. “I should have drowned you. To think I thought you might be worthy of the most sacred communion the Void has to offer. I was wrong. Never in all my centuries have I been so wrong. You’re pathetic.”

  Volac’s hands went around Kanruo’s throat.

  “Ungrateful.”

  He squeezed on Kanruo’s windpipe, watching with delight as the veins bulged on the boy’s face.

  “Unworthy.”

  He flung the boy to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. One way or the other, his pet would break.

  Kanruo curled in on himself as another kick knocked the air out of his lungs. He should have just stayed quiet, just done as he had been told. Why did he fight?

  “Foul little monster! How many times do I have to grind you into dust? How many times until it sinks in that you can never win against me?”

  Kanruo writhed under the assault. He could barely hold his arms up to ward off the blows. Void magic swirled around them, chewing into his nerves and leaving them frostbitten. His vision blurred as he choked on his own spit and blood.

  Volac snapped his fingers and a frigid hand closed around Kanruo’s heart. He could only gasp uselessly as the unseen force clamped down over his chest. Tremors shot though his lungs as the flow of blood halted. He tore at his throat with ragged fingernails in a futile attempt to open his airway.

  Finally. Finally, the onslaught ceased. Kanruo coughed, gasping for breath.

  Volac leaned down, dragging his pet by his hair across the floor. The witch’s blood smeared over white marble, leaving a sanguineous trail behind them. They came to a halt before the entrance of the crypts.

  “You shall stay here. Indefinitely.”

  Kanruo shook, clinging to Volac’s feet.

  “Little witch, you brought this on yourself. You deserve to be alone. To be punished for your transgression. You know better. You know what happens—”

  “DON’T!” Kanruo screamed, voice cracking and broken. His fingers curled into the material of Volac’s pants. His snot stained the fine material as he pressed his face against the man’s shin. “I’m sorry.”

  Volac kicked him off. As Kanruo struggled to get up, disembodied hands snatched the witch up and flung him into the jaws of the crypt.

  The look of disgust on Volac’s face etched itself into his brain as the gullet swallowed him. The echo of the lock clamored against his ears.

  No one but Volac could open those cursed doors. Kanruo had tried countless times. He was trapped here. He would die here.

  15

  Kanruo limped with his hand against the wall as he navigated the lightless catacombs. He had to move quickly. The wraiths that lurked within the darkness would find him soon.

  What a pity, all your years of resistance for naught, the Void tittered gleefully.

  The wall curved inward. His fingertips traced over the beveled edges of eye sockets. A tunnel of skulls embedded in the rock wall signaled the entrance to a private tomb within the maze. A dusty sanctuary from the wraiths.

  He reached up into the indention. He had to be sure. He’d mistaken incomplete alcoves for tombs in the past and had the scars to remind him of such folly.

  The sharp drop off where a nose had once been nipped at his fingers and he winced. With further exploration, his digits connected with pearl-smooth teeth enclosed in the floor. A breath of relief rushed out of his lungs.

  Down the corridor, the wraiths screeched as they caught his scent. His pulse jumped and his heart thudded against his ribs as he slipped into the crevasse.

  Callused feet trod over the mouths of the dead as he made his way deeper into the tomb. The air became thicker, a heavy scarf that wrapped tightly around his neck. The echoes of the screeching wraiths lingered outside.

  Aren’t you tired of suffering?

  He was tired. Endlessly tired. Every day, his thoughts became more fragmented. Every part of him ached and creaked. He had lost time, nearly lost himself. It was too much. He was beyond repair.

  You don’t have to keep enduring, you know.

  Kanruo fumbled his way toward the center of the tomb, locating the stone coffin inside. His hands shook as he rested them upon the heavy lid of the sarcophagus.

  No one would fault you if you were to give in. Your conscience will be clear. Kanruo felt the Void take on its shadowy form next to him, resting a taloned hand on his shoulder.

  The lid creaked open, and the pungent stench of acetone escaped into the room. His head spun as he gripped the edge of the casket for balance. Specks of color bloomed in the air before his eyes. Rich pigments of purples and blues danced like starbursts across his vision.

  Reach inside.

  “What will I find?” Kanruo asked, his voice hoarse and weak.

  Your way out.

  Out? He brushed his fingertips along the cold, dusty stone, tracing the edges of the coffin. His hand closed around a splintered piece of femur, jagged and needle sharp.

  You’ve done all you need to do, the Void purred, talons stroking his matted hair with an uncharacteristic compassion. It’s time for you to escape this life.

  Was this it, then? Was this all his life was going to amount to?

  You fought hard. You deserve rest. You can see Notia again. Your boyfriend. They’re waiting for you on the dark side of the moon.

  Notia. Alrik.

  A dry sob left Kanruo as he bowed his head. They were dead. He was alone. So tired of being alone. So tired . . .

  His hands moved of their own accord, and he drifted away, feeling his body disconnect from his mind, floating.

  The shard of bone raised to his neck, the pointed tip resting upon his throat.

  Destiny is such a fickle thing, but that’s all right. We can always try again.

  Destiny, the word echoed in Kanruo’s mind.

  Destiny?

  Our destiny is not set in stone.

  But he hadn’t been able to change anything, no matter how hard he fought. What was the point?

  We witches alone have the privilege of altering our fate. Of choosing our path.

  Notia. She had died to keep him safe. She had sacrificed so much, and it had all gone to waste.

  Relieve yourself of the burden of this life, the Void crooned. Your path always ended here.

  Did it? Who had decided that? Wait.

  A spark went off within him, hot and potent.

  “How would you know?” He felt the Void recoil at the question. “How would you know?” he repeated. The heat within him magnified, his blood nearing a boiling point.

  The Void didn’t know shit. It saw what it wanted to. Kanruo threw the shard of bone to the ground with a snarl.

  The bone exploded in a brilliant flash of light. He threw his arms up to ward against its intensity. Splotches of white flashed against his eyelids as the ground shook.

  Dust rained on him from the ceiling. A faint thread of golden magic trickled down to him.

  Kanruo stared, hypnotized by the thread’s gentle pulsating.

  This place was cut off from the ether, and yet . . . twice now, strands of magic had permeated the dead zone. And if the ether could find a way in, perhaps he could find a way out?

  He walked around the dangling strand, hand rubbing his chin as he analyzed it. He could hear life echoing within it, the promising lure of a whole cosmos outside this dead place. A connection to the life force of every living thing. The radiating warmth of sun, the kiss of starlight, and the beauty of moonlight. Voices, their tones light and bright with laughter, called out to him.

  No! Don’t touch it! the Void hissed over the joyous enticements.

  He was tired of being told what to do. Tired of being manipulated, of being afraid.

  The strand of magic quivered, growing brighter as it shook.

  He was angry. At himself, at Volac, at the Void. The world.

  Kanruo reached out and grabbed the golden thread, wrapping it around his hand. A
current flowed into his body, connecting him once more to the ether. It was like stumbling upon a hot spring in the middle of the ice capped mountains. Warmth raced through his veins as the magic nourished his abused and broken body.

  NO!

  Kanruo gave the thread a few experimental tugs. The strand held strong, showing no signs of fraying. Its power continued to steadily trickle into his body.

  Slowly, he let go of the magical cord. A cold gale blasted through his body as he was abruptly cut off from the magic. The whiplash left him shivering and numb. His head spun and his heart galloped in his chest.

  He reached out again as the Void shouted at him. Once more, the warmth enveloped him, cradling him close. As long as he didn’t let go of it . . .

  Kanruo ground his teeth as his hand closed around the magical thread. He was going to get out of here, even if it killed him. He gave the thread another tug, grunting as he put his entire featherweight body into the motion.

  Overhead, the bone ceiling cracked and buckled. Dust covered him, and he let out a sneeze. The force of the expulsion of air made his sinuses throb.

  One more, just one more good pull would break through.

  In his mind, Kanruo visualized the ceiling giving way, the prison shattering as bones and rock turned into dust and pebbles.

  With a groan, he yanked on the thread and brought the catacombs crumbling down.

  A white tower of the citadel crashed to the ground with concussive force. Cracks snaked up from the foundation as the supports beneath it caved in.

  Out of the sunken earth a hand clawed its way up through the rubble.

  The rocks swelled then dropped back down, mimicking lungs as they inflated and deflated. A fist punctured the layer of debris, still clinging to the magical thread. A moment later, Kanruo’s head emerged from the cave in with a shout.

  He took massive gulps of air, spitting out dust. His hands and arms were covered in fresh gashes as he squirmed. His torso was still trapped under the rubble, compressing his lungs.

 

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