Hopeless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series)
Page 35
Silas stepped from behind the stone archway, leading up to the sacred high place. His skin was as dark as the fur of his panther shape. He wore the same brown work pants and forest green sweater I had seen him in the night I first met him.
"I guess, we will never know," I replied, not willing to be humble, but not wanting to insult him either.
"So, you have come then. It has gone badly," Silas stated, and his words felt like a harsh accusation.
"Yes, but you knew that it would," I answered. We stood awkwardly far apart from each other. I had expected a warm greeting and a man thankful that I had come, but he eyed me suspiciously from a distance as if I were a threat.
"Still, I had hoped things would go.... differently," he looked passed me, at the surrounding mountains. His grey eyes clouded with sorrow, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"So did I," I surprised myself with morbid sarcasm.
"The old man?" Silas asked, ignoring my poor attempt at dark humor.
"Dead," I stated simply and then cleared my throat quickly to cover the emotion threatening to surface.
Silas took a step back, as if I had slapped him, before continuing, "And the boy?"
"Taken," I replied in the same way.
"And you?" his eyes flashed back to suspicion and then met me with new interest. "How is it that you are here?"
I was surprised by his question. "You are the one who told me to come," I lashed out angrily; how dare he give me cryptic instructions and then question my obedience.
"Did I tell you to take so many magics? You are radiating with stolen blood," his eyes turned from suspicion to hard distrust.
"Yes, I am. So, what?" I crossed my arms defensively. "Do you know what it was like when they came for my family? Were you there?" it was my turn to accuse, but I answered my own questions before he even opened his mouth to speak, "No, you were not. You were here, protected by your mountains and hidden from sight. My people were massacred. They were betrayed. My grandfather was murdered and my brother kidnapped. Do not question my stolen magics when I was fighting to save those that I love most," my voice broke, and a hot tear fell free from the prison of my eye and slipped without permission down my rain soaked cheek.
"And so you take other's magic without remorse?" he asked, disbelieving.
"I have remorse!" I screamed at the old man, my voice echoing off of the mountains in a chorus of anger.
"No," he accused quietly. "No, you are an evil thing now. Unrecognizable and evil," his voice had dropped to a whisper, but I had no trouble hearing his accusations.
I knew that he was right.
"Will you help me?" I cut to the chase, unwilling to continue the hurtful small-talk.
"No, we will not help you," he said simply and with finality. He turned from me, this conversation was over.
I watched him leave. I had come here for nothing. He would not help me and I had nowhere else to go. Worst of all, the last of my fears had been realized. I wasn't myself anymore. I wasn't a future queen, or the next Oracle. I had slipped into an evil version of myself, the greatness that had once been whispered with my name would stay a hushed murmur that floated away with the wind. I wasn't recognizable anymore, Silas had said it.
I was evil. There was no more good left.
Table of Contents
Hopeless Magic (The Star-Crossed Series)
Prologue
Midpoint