Winter Spire: Den of Desire

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Winter Spire: Den of Desire Page 8

by Anya Merchant


  “And you want me… to get it for you?” she asked.

  Felix nodded.

  “Only if you believe me,” he said. “Only if you trust me. If you’re scared of me… Then I’ll go. And I won’t bother you again.”

  Saying the words out loud made a lump form in the back of his throat. It didn’t make sense to him. He’d only known Dani for such a short time. Everything was happening so fast. Why was it that it hurt him to think about hurting her?

  Dani leaned her head forward and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was soft, tentative, and supremely sad. She pulled back after only a second and brushed more tears away.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

  She cleared her throat, wiped her face again, and then disappeared through the classroom’s door. Felix walked over to one of the small, child sized desks and sat down on it. He felt so very tired.

  CHAPTER 20

  Felix waited. Half an hour passed by, each minute drawn out into sixty anxious seconds. Finally, just as he neared the point where he couldn’t wait a moment longer, he heard one of the school’s entrance doors scrape open. He stood up and walked into the main hallway, the walls on either side plastered with children’s art projects and calming murals.

  Stella stood at the other end of it, her face set into a cold expression. She pulled the door closed behind her and took a few steps forward, not bridging the distance between them by any meaningful amount.

  “Dani…” said Felix. “She’s not the type of person to tell lies.”

  Stella stared at him, her face giving nothing away.

  “I questioned her when she came back to the apartment and started searching through the medicine cabinet,” said Stella. “She didn’t say anything, but it was easy enough to put the pieces together.”

  Felix sighed and rubbed his temples.

  “Look, Stella, just listen to me,” he said. “The girl you saw me with is going to die if-“

  “The girl I saw you with is the enemy, Felix!”

  Stella’s voice echoed down the hallway toward him. It was only then that Felix noticed the staff in her hand, and the determination in her body language. Her black and gold cloak hung loosely on her shoulders, untied enough in front to expose the tight white blouse she had on underneath it.

  “Am I the enemy, too?” he asked, the words coming out quieter than intended. “Is that why you brought your staff, Stella?”

  Emotional pain stabbed into Felix’s stomach. He found it hard to understand where it was coming from. Stella was a friend, sure. A trusted friend. But just like with Dani, he hadn’t known her for long enough to warrant such a reaction.

  It was more than that. Felix didn’t dabble much in the concept of destiny or purpose, but the idea of him and Stella going to battle against each other had a wrongness to it that screamed from the back of his head. She took another step forward, looking just as conflicted as Felix felt.

  “You’re not my enemy,” said Stella. “But if you’re allied with the white wolves, I can’t take the risk of letting you be my friend.”

  Felix started walking toward the door and toward her. He knew that she wouldn’t budge on her principles, and that meant it was time to leave.

  “Fine,” he said. “Be that way.”

  Stella turned her staff sideways as he tried to pass by her in the hallway. Her frown deepened, and she looked so similar to how Dani had before, but with more control behind it.

  “I can’t let you go,” whispered Stella. “Felix… You can’t join them. Don’t you see? Don’t you see what’s happening?”

  “Stella…” he said, gritting his teeth. “I owe them my life. And I’m not joining them!”

  A silent moment passed, the tension on the air thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Stella closed her eyes and whispered something, and the tip of her staff began to glow pink.

  She turned to aim it toward him. Felix knew the spell, one that would use lust to render him incapable of fighting. He slammed himself against Stella before she could bring it to bare, pushing her against the wall of the hallway. His body was against hers, and his face was only inches away. Stella struggled, and normally should have been able to at least break through. But now, the gap between their level of strength seemed wider than it once had been, by a huge margin.

  “It’s already happening,” whispered Stella.

  “Stella, I haven’t chosen any of this!” Felix snapped.

  “How am I supposed to believe you?” asked Stella. “I believed him… when he told me that. I believed Yarko, and things ended up so much messier because of it.”

  “What would it take?” asked Felix. “What do I have to do to earn your trust back?”

  Stella lowered her staff. Felix was still against her, her back to the wall, and illicit thoughts flooded through his mind. It was just the two of them in the school. There were other ways they could settle things and do away with the tension between them. Stella’s eyes twinkles, and Felix could only wonder if she was thinking similar things.

  “Find the mayor,” she said.

  “What?” Felix shook his head.

  “Trent thinks the wolves are behind his disappearance,” said Stella. “Now, I don’t know if you’ve heard of Occam’s Razor before, but it is the simplest explanation, by far.”

  “It wasn’t them,” said Felix. “They have no reason to do something like that.”

  “Then prove it.” Stella leaned toward him, letting her lips draw close to the ear. “Find out what happened to the mayor, and I’ll hear you out.”

  Felix stared at her blankly for a moment. Stella took advantage of the pause, whirling out of his grasp and flicking her staff back up at him. He let her go, knowing that she wouldn’t attack him with it. Despite Stella’s emotions toward him, he still trusted her, even if the reverse was no longer true.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

  Stella nodded, and then disappeared through the school’s entrance. Felix waited for a minute, and then headed outside, scratching his head over how the hell he was going to do what he’d just promised.

  CHAPTER 21

  Felix had taken no more than five or six steps out of the school when a heavy, solid form slammed into him. He hit the snow and managed to get a single glimpse of Trent’s face before a fist slammed into the side of his head.

  “You’re not going anywhere, wolfbound,” said Trent.

  He reeled back, preparing to strike again. Felix was dazed by the first blow, but oddly, found that he could still focus through the pain. Trent’s fist moved in a motion that his eyes tracked, and it seemed to take longer than it should have.

  Felix pulled his head to the side as Trent attacked again, letting the other man’s fist strike the snow underneath him. He lashed out with a vicious elbow, catching the the other man in the chin with a satisfying crack of bone against bone. Trent fell back slightly and Felix rolled out of his hold.

  “You’re a lunatic!” shouted Felix. “And you already failed at killing me once.”

  He fell into what he hoped would be a serviceable fighting stance. Felix lacked any martial arts training of any kind, and had only the experience of his scuffles in the foster homes of his youth to go on.

  “If you’d been smart, you would have chosen death then,” said Trent, as he advanced forward.

  “That… doesn’t even make sense, really.” Felix let out a mocking laugh, and was caught totally off guard when Trent feinted, pulling his block to the side and slamming a fist into his stomach.

  Felix started to fall to the ground, his face meeting Trent’s knee on the way down. Blood gushed from his lip and stars flashed across his vision. He had just enough presence of mind to cover his head and roll, dodging Trent’s stomping heel by less than an inch.

  “You’ve no idea of what you’ve involved yourself in,” said Trent.

  “I know enough.” Felix mumbled the words, spitting blood and phlegm to the side while keeping his eyes on his oppo
nent.

  “I don’t mean that as an insult,” said Trent. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. It’s unfortunate that we had to meet under these circumstances.”

  He feinted again. Felix didn’t fall for it, but it didn’t matter. Trent lashed out with a kick that had all his weight behind it, and Felix took the man’s shin against his chest, gasping as his guard was knocked down and the wind knocked out of him.

  “I’ll make it quick,” said Trent. “I blame myself for not having the foresight to do so in the first place.”

  Trent reached into his bomber jacket. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he pulled out his gun, an old fashioned revolver with a terrifyingly thick barrel. Felix charged up and at him as the tip of it leveled in his direction, but knew that he’d never close the distance in time.

  A shape appeared next to him in a flash of kicked up snow. Nalya was dressed in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, and gripped Trent’s arm as casually as if it were a thin tree branch. She twisted her hands at the wrist, breaking his forearm with zero strain on her part.

  Trent screamed, but to his credit, he held onto the gun and remained on his feet. Nalya glanced over at Felix, and then grabbed Trent’s shoulder, levering his arm a second time and breaking it at a point just past his armpit. Trent howled in pain, and this time, he went down.

  “Enough!” yelled Felix. “Nalya, that’s enough!”

  She looked at him for a moment, and then bent down to scoop up Trent’s gun. She pushed the revolving chamber to the side and emptied the bullets, smiling as she examined them.

  “Silver bullets,” she said, to Trent. “Well, at least you know what you’re doing.”

  She dropped the revolver to the side and then hurled the bullets into the snow in the distance. Nalya then folded her arms, ignoring Trent’s screams and focusing instead on Felix. Behind her, he could see Stella making her way back out of the tower toward them.

  “You have no place here anymore, denchild,” said Nalya. “These people do not accept you.”

  Felix met her eyes. They were full of concern, and more than just that. He shook his head slowly, stiffening his resolve.

  “I’ve never had a place anywhere, Nalya,” he said. “I’m going to help Gwen, but I’m going to help these people, too. If that means that I have to be on my own, then so be it.”

  Nalya smiled a sad smile, and then burst into bright white light. She took off at a run in her wolf form and Felix watched her go. Stella had her staff in hand, but seemed a little more hesitant to raise it up against him than she had before.

  “Fucking… bitch!” muttered Trent.

  “You’re lucky to be alive, man,” said Felix.

  “Trent!” Stella put her hands on her hips, and surprisingly, shot a glare at the fallen man. “I told you to stay out of this!”

  Trent said something that Felix couldn’t make out, the man’s words drowned out by the pain in his voice. He shook his head and slowly fixed his eyes on Stella.

  “I’m going to find the mayor, Stella,” he said. “If I was really on the side of the wolves, Trent would be dead right now.”

  Stella didn’t reply, but her eyes said more than enough in the silence that followed. She gave a quick nod and then bent down to help Trent up. The man’s arm was a mess, and dangled from his shoulder like a rope ladder.

  Felix stood in the snow and watched them go. He didn’t like what he was going to have to do next.

  CHAPTER 22

  Felix marched through the snow at a brisk pace, coming back to the thick metal door outside of the wolves’ den. He had no way of opening it himself, and resorted to knocking on the freezing metal with his fist. A minute went by, and then it opened. One of the twin girls, he wasn’t sure which, stood silently on the other side.

  “Uh, hi…” said Felix. “Is Nalya around? I need to talk to her about Gwen.”

  The girl met his eye for a split second and then looked down at the ground, blushing furiously. Felix scratched his head, unsure of what to do or say.

  “Is it okay if I come in?” he asked. As though in answer, the girl turned around and quickly walked away from him, leaving the door open in her wake. Felix stepped through it, pulling it closed behind him.

  Nalya was sitting by Gwen’s bedside. Felix walked into the room quietly after removing his boots and snow gear. Gwen’s face looked flushed and sweaty, and Nalya was in the middle of rubbing her cheek with a wet wash cloth.

  “Denchild,” said Nalya. “I was unsure of whether or not you’d be returning.”

  Felix frowned slightly.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I haven’t got the medicine yet.”

  Nalya didn’t say anything.

  “I need to do something for them first,” he said. “Once I do, I’ll be able to get supplies for you, maybe even the help of an actual doctor.”

  Nalya turned to look at him. She was smiling slightly, but her eyes were resigned. It was the expression of someone who had trusted and been hurt many times over before, but also someone without any options left.

  “What is it you need?” she asked.

  “I need to find the mayor,” said Felix. “Whether he’s alive or dead, it doesn’t matter. I just need to find him, somehow.”

  Nalya let out a small, almost inaudible chuckle.

  “You’re very perceptive,” she said. “I’m assuming you’ve guessed by now that we have the means to do that.”

  “Gwen found me in the middle of the wilderness as though it was second nature,” said Felix.

  “Gwen is a true white wolf,” said Nalya. “She could do that by smell and sight, alone.”

  Felix waiting, sensing that there was more to it than just that.

  “There is a way,” continued Nalya. “But it will be dangerous. And there is a chance that it may accelerate the awakening of your abilities, and further ostracize you from the humans you value so dearly.”

  Nalya’s words were blunt, straightforward, and honest. Felix found himself trusting her for those qualities above all else. He nodded, knowing that he’d do whatever it took to repay his favor to Gwen, at this point.

  “A bloodtrance,” said Nalya.

  “A bloodtrance?” repeated Felix. “That sounds a little… messy.”

  Nalya caressed Gwen’s cheek one final time and then stood up. She walked past Felix and he followed her back into the den’s living room. Breeze and Windy were sitting on the couch, watching TV, and immediately stood up and left the room when they saw him.

  “Don’t mind them,” said Nalya. “They’re just shy.”

  “Uh, yeah,” said Felix. “I get it.”

  “There is a potion that you must drink to enter the bloodtrance,” said Nalya. “It must contain a portion of your blood.”

  Felix hesitated before nodding slowly. She disappeared into her room and then came back out into the living room carrying a small cauldron that gave Felix flashbacks of Stella. Into it, Nalya dumped a few varieties of crumpled flowers, spices, and unidentifiable liquid.

  “There,” she said. “Now, add your blood.”

  “Alright.” Felix walked over to the cauldron and held out his hand, accepting a small, crooked knife from Nalya. He ran it across his palm, a little surprised by how smoothly it cut through flesh. Blood welled up in the center of his hand, rolling over wrinkle lines and falling freely into the pot.

  Nalya stirred several times with an old stick, and then carried it over to the fireplace, which was raging with flames. She hung it over the edge and waited for several minutes, stirring occasionally. When steam began to rise up from it, she pulled it back and signaled to Felix.

  “You will want to lie down once the bloodtrance begins,” said Nalya. “It can be… very intense.”

  “Duly noted,” he said. Nalya dipped a wooded cup into the concoction and passed it to him. Felix expected the stuff to be foul smelling, but instead he was greeted by the scent of warm cinnamon and nutmeg.

  “Here goes nothing,” he muttere
d. He tipped the cup back and drank, tasting grit and copper as it went down. He emptied it and handed it back to Nalya.

  Seconds passed. Felix shifted a bit, not feeling much. Nalya smiled at him and took him by the hand, leading him over to the couch.

  “Remember to breathe,” she said. “And remember to envision what it is that you seek.”

  Felix nodded, though his skepticism began to nag at him. Would this really work, or was he only trying it out of desperation?

  The question wasn’t answered right away, but he did begin to feel… something.

  CHAPTER 23

  The walls of the wolves’ living room began to oscillate, back in forth in tiny motions, as though a light, persistent earthquake had taken up residence in the area.

  “Whoa,” muttered Felix. He took a look at his hand, the one without a wound. It looked the same as it always had, and positively bizarre at the same time, like a deep sea creature gone down a grotesque evolutionary path.

  “I must leave you now,” said Nalya. “Remember to breathe. Accept that it’s happening and, how do you say, go with the flow?”

  Felix nodded dumbly and watched as she walked across the room and into the hallway. Her movements seemed accelerated, like a video clip set to fast forward. Light flickered prismatically off the walls of room, with geometrical rainbows twirling across surfaces.

  “Jesus…” said Felix. He tried to sit up, his body feeling very sluggish and weird at his commands. He’d played around with drugs before, well, mainly just weed, but he was familiar enough with the idea of hallucinations to use that term for what he was seeing.

  The room began to shift. The walls pushed outward toward him, syncing in time with his breaths. His body felt amazing, with tingles and pulses running through it like an electric current of pleasure. The couch creaked underneath him and the sounds reminded him of the croaking of frogs.

  “Mayor Senhaji,” he whispered. “I need to focus on… Mayor Senhaji.”

 

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