Much of Madness (The Conexus Chronicles Book 1)

by Summa, S. E.

  “No. I am the Mistress of Death and will be trapped behind this veil no longer,” the figure screamed. She beat against the fractured veil with both fists. “You have finally harnessed the magic, the necromancy over the spirit. I fed you all those years, and when you were mine.” Each word was punctuated by a punch. “I shared my power over death so you could free me. I will have my vengeance.”

  Another thick crack formed and the foul wind shifted, no longer blowing outward, now a vacuum had formed. Debris in the air pelted against the shattered barrier, further weakening it. The shift in the air pressure of the room shook Seraphina from her trance. Her hair whipped forward, and a comforting, lush warmth covered her arms. Seraphina looked down at the unfamiliar golden magic blanketing her skin. She turned her head and realized Khat was the one holding her. Khat’s chin rested on her shoulder, tears streaming from her closed eyes.

  “Khatereh?” Seraphina yelled into the maelstrom that was her bedroom.

  Khat’s eyes flew open, “Wow, Sera, I thought I lost you.” She looked up. “The Mistress of Death there is about to break out. Close it up. Seal the cracks.”

  The woman’s fists continued to pound against the veil leaving bloody marks from her effort.

  “The who of what? I-I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to close the cracks.”

  Rolf leaned forward and grabbed Seraphina’s chin. He nodded to himself, and she felt the faintest touch as he kissed her forehead.

  “I gots an idea, Miss Sera. I love you bunches. You was my bestest friend ever, but I gotta go now.” He stood and clenched his small fists.

  “No Rolf.” cried Seraphina. “She’ll hurt you.”

  Rolf turned and winked. “I’m a wolf boy, Miss Sera. No crusty old Death Lady is fast enough to catch me.” He ran to the back wall of the bedroom and braced his hands against it. “I always wanted to be a super hero. I’m gonna save you.” Rolf ran full speed toward the veil. He leapt and slipped through the cracked wall as if it was only made of fog, landing against the Mistress’s chest and knocking her down. Without stopping, Rolf sprang to his hands and feet, running on all fours, much faster than a normal child could travel. His ghostly body disappeared into the darkness beyond within mere seconds. The cracks and fissures in the veil started closing with a piercing, high-pitched screech as if crystals of glass had to grow to fill in the veil’s weakness.

  The Mistress jumped up. Her beautiful face contorted into a mask of pure hatred and rage. “No.”

  She launched her body against the veil as it sealed, then shimmered back out of sight.

  The air in Seraphina’s bedroom was weighted once more. Debris rained down on the floor, and the curtains fluttered back against the wall.

  Exhausted, Khat flopped onto her butt.

  Seraphina scanned Khat’s tear-streaked face to make sure she was okay.

  “You look like one of those damn idiots in the vampire TV shows, Sera.” Khat grabbed a T-shirt from the floor, wadded it up and threw it at her. “Wipe all the blood off your face, so I can see if you’re okay under there.”

  Seraphina did as Khat asked and realized the lower half of her face was covered in thick, sticky blood. She couldn’t resist laughing at the absurdity of it and then a second later began to cry.

  “You are gonna have to explain this mess and crazy lady to me in a minute, but first come here.” Khat pulled her friend into a tight hug and sobbed right along with her.

  When they both had released enough tears to clear a path for rational thought. Seraphina said, “I don’t think I can explain anything. How did things get so out of control? I was practicing the veil summoning spell, same as I have every morning this week. And the next thing I know my room is like a hurricane, you have smoky magic all over me, some frightening woman is beating her way into our world, and Rolf…” Seraphina shuddered and fresh tears flowed down her cheeks.

  Khat said, “I thought that was him.”

  “You could see him?”

  “No, but he led me up here. I was working down in the shop and almost didn’t make it to you in time. And I could only shield you and help you wake up. I didn’t know what to do to send woman away. One minute she was breaking through and the next she landed flat on her ass. It was Rolf, right? What did your ghost boy do?” Khat rubbed Seraphina’s back softly.

  “Rolf ran through the veil and tackled her.” Seraphina laughed and sniffled. “He bounced right back up and took off into the other realm. His passing through must have reset the balance of the veil and closed it.”

  “Now that was one brave kid.” Khat smiled. “I wish I could have met the little wolf boy.”

  “Oh, he’s been following you around like a lost puppy for weeks. He had quite a crush on you. Puppy love, he called it. Rolf said he always wanted a kitty for a girlfriend.” Seraphina laughed again before swallowing hard and sucking in her lip to try to stop another round of tears. “Wait, but who the hell was woman?”

  “She called herself the Mistress of Death. She was controlling you…” Khat stopped.

  “What is it, Khat?”

  “She said…” Khat’s head turned, lost in memory. “She said she had fed you necromancy. Yeah, that’s what she called it, necromancy over spirit.”

  “Fed me? Necromancy over spirit? No Spellcasters can harness spirit. It’s the element we cannot reach in this realm. And besides, I’ve never seen that insane bitch in my life.”

  Khat just stared at her. Her brow creased with worry.

  “Spill it, Khatereh.”

  “I don’t think you have seen her in your life, but you did in your death. I think she fed you spirit power all those years you were with her… in the veil.”

  Seraphina shot to her feet. Khat got up too, but stiffly as if she was exhausted. She went to sit on Seraphina’s bed but had to push papers and clothes off the edge to make room.

  “I was dead. I wasn’t awake on the other side, Khat. I was…” Seraphina stopped. “I don’t know what I was over there do I? I don’t remember a single thing between my decision to die for the curse and waking up.”

  Seraphina sat down next to her new friend.

  “Aedan and Finn had me by my wrists.” She held out her wrists staring at them while lost in memory. “And the next thing I knew, Finn was a pale, white Sin Eater carrying me into this very bedroom. He was upset, really emotional. In fact, his intensity frightened me. It had seemed like hours before he calmed down enough to explain. He said I’d been dead for fifty years, and he told me the story of our curse. Then we began our lives here. What if he didn’t… tell me everything?”

  “We will figure this out. We’ll get to the bottom of it.” Khat rose and swooned while almost falling back onto the bed again.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I used a lot of power. It will take me some time to recover, but I’d rather keep moving. It helps. Besides, we need to get your room cleaned up. And neither of us want to hear Finn’s bitching if he sees the apothecary right now.”

  Seraphina stood. “What’s wrong with the apothecary?”

  “Finn had to go cultivate some more herbs, so I was on shop duty. A certain little ghost was so desperate to get my attention he threw things around like a pint-sized madman.” Khat shook her head. “He got my attention all right, but I was picking up what he had thrown, so he grabbed jars and started pouring their contents in a path to lead me back upstairs into the loft. Then, I heard you screaming and figured out he was leading me to you. He was a smart kid, that’s for sure, but the shop is trashed.”

  “Screw my room, shop first,” Seraphina said. Going to her bedroom door, she saw a red powder line down the length of the hallway and an overturned jar. She squatted and ran her hand through the rare herb infused clay. Small, bare footprints running through the red powder were all that remained of her little Rolf.

  He’d saved her. Seraphina thought she was meant to save him, but the brave little ghost actually saved her life.

  Rolf had stop
ped the Mistress of Death from crossing over. What havoc would she have reeked in the mortal realm? And why was she trapped in the veil?

  Seraphina whispered, “I’ll miss you forever, Rolf.”

  Part III: DEATH

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Today, Marceau was meeting both Finn and Seraphina at three o’clock. He hoped Finn had kept their run-in at AAA to himself, but Marceau had a plan to deflect, if necessary. Questions. Lots of them. He had a feeling Finn had been holding something back from Seraphina, as well. Finn seemed very reluctant to discuss how had he brought her back when she died.

  When Finn answered the door to let Marceau in, he avoided eye contact. “Um, so Seraphina is feeling a bit testy. She didn’t like not being included. I’ve already caught hell for it. Just thought I’d throw you a warning.” Finn took the stairs two at a time.

  Great.

  Well, at least, Marceau was going to finally see her. Seraphina had become so important to him, and her absence seemed to have thinned the oxygen he breathed and dimmed the colors around him.

  “Hello, Seraphina.”

  She stood in the loft’s kitchen, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed in front. Wearing jeans, a simple, white buttoned shirt, her beauty overwhelmed him. The ponytail added charm.

  “Hello, Marceau,” she mimicked.

  “It’s nice to see you again. Finn has been helpful, of course, but I’ve missed our work on both the curse and translating the book.”

  “Cut the formal crap.” Seraphina dropped her arms and stood straight. “This is awkward enough. Let’s just get on with it, please. Where do you want me?”

  “Direct as ever.” Marceau smiled. “Perhaps, you could take a seat at the table. I’ll sit across from you.”

  She walked to the table, scraped the chair legs across the floor as she scooted, and sat. Khat came in, waving before even heading to the refrigerator.

  Marceau sat across from Seraphina in silence. He wondered where to begin. Tread lightly. He’d imagined what he would say over and over in his mind and thought a level of sensitivity should be used, maybe he should…

  “So, my hex is glowing brightly like a red freaking marquis of my innermost, personal feelings, huh?” Seraphina blurted.

  Marceau could not stifle his surprised laugh. Finn managed to cover his mouth, where he sat behind her on the arm of the love seat.

  “Seraphina, I…”

  “You should have told me. Me, Marceau. Not Finn. I mean it’s bad enough as it is, but to know the two of you have been talking about my most private feelings behind my back like that? It should have upset your gentleman sensibilities, shouldn’t it?” Her gloved hand was fisted against the table. Even while pissed as hell at him, Seraphina was the most stunning and frustrating girl he’d ever known. Her freckled cheeks blushed.

  “I apologize, Seraphina. You’re absolutely right. I should have discussed the changes I detected with you, but I was working on a different theory when last I saw you and didn’t want to alarm you.”

  “Alarm me, how?”

  “I thought your curse was feeding on my power. That maybe it was drawing its newfound strength from me.”

  She bit her bottom lip, considering his words. “And you still came here day after day when you thought I was somehow feeding on you?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Why Marceau?” her tone had softened, vulnerable.

  “Because even if you were drawing strength from me, it was well worth the risk. To spend time with you and see your smile, to hear your laughter, to be caught off guard by your charming candor… I would risk much for that.”

  Finn rubbed his hand through his white hair and slouched, defeated.

  Khat said, “Whoa, okay. Hold up here. Mister Finn, you are coming with me.” Khat pulled Finn up from the love seat. Finn stood, but started to protest. Khat lowered her chin and put a hand on her hip. “Don’t even try it, Sin Boy. They deserve privacy for this talk. You can babysit later like a cranky mother hen, but for now, we are going to our room. Now march.” She pointed to their bedroom. No one wore a bitchy expression better than Khat.

  “Fine. Then put these on.” Finn picked up a pair of dark gloves from the coffee table. He tossed them in front of Marceau before walking out. “And I’ll be back in five minutes whether you’re finished talking or not.”

  Marceau pulled on the supple leather gloves and winked at Khat. “Thanks, Khatereh.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, you were just telling Seraphina how you would risk everything just to be in her presence. Carry on then…” Khat waved her hand at Seraphina and sauntered out whistling.

  Finally alone, Marceau found once again, he was dumbfounded.

  Seraphina said, “I don’t know what to say.” She looked down at the table and picked at a fingernail.

  He smiled at their shared thought. “Seraphina, look at me, please.”

  When she did, her light green eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

  “Please, don’t be afraid of me. I will not touch you. I’ll keep my distance and be ever careful. Finn or Khat would probably tackle me if I even tried to get too close to you. I won’t endanger you. Please don’t cry.”

  “Don’t you understand, Marceau? That’s exactly why I’m crying. It hurts to feel this.” A tear fell. “So much emotion. Feelings I’ve denied myself all these years. It hurts to finally feel love and know you’ll be perfectly careful and vigilant. I know you’ll never touch me. I’ve watched Finn and Khat and hundreds of others in love. I’ve seen the comfort and pleasure they take from the most simple touch. But we’ll never know what feels like.”

  “When we break the curse, when you are freed, we can…”

  “If, Marceau, if we break the curse. I worry it’s unbreakable. I’m afraid I can never run my fingers through your hair, never brush my cheek against your five o’clock shadow, or kiss the bow of your lip. It might be worth dying to experience the caress of love, just once.” She looked away. “I’ve been wondering… If I died and stayed that way, Finn might be free to live a normal life too. Maybe he could stop eating sins and grow old with Khat.”

  “No.” Marceau slammed his hand on the table. “If you truly care for me at all, then you have to believe in me too. I will find a way, Seraphina, but you have to keep your hope. You have to trust in me.”

  Seraphina sat, silent, staring into his eyes. She took a breath as if a heavy decision had been made and her body was responding at a deep cellular level. Her hex whipped forward, reaching for him. It glowed so brightly that Marceau instinctively skidded his chair back, shielding his eyes.

  “Finn. Khat. Get back in here,” Marceau yelled as he shot to his feet. Finn was beside the table in an instant.

  “What? What the hell is it?” Finn looked from Marceau to Seraphina and back again. “What’s wrong? Why are you hiding your face and why is she crying?”

  “I’ve decided to trust him. I am giving him my hope. All the hope and yearning for the freedom I have left within me. No more walls. No more self-protection or hiding away from what I want most.”

  Marceau lowered his hand and squinted to look past the hex to Seraphina. It pulsed with red and amber light, flowing toward him and undulating in hypnotic waves. The intricate scrolls and webbing reminded him of flames both in movement and intensity. His face felt warmed as if by fire. Marceau cautiously sat down and scooted back up to the table. He placed his gloved hands on the surface, palms up.

  “Do not move, Seraphina,” he whispered.

  Another tear traveled down her cheek when the hex reached forward again, and a single tendril touched Marceau’s bare wrist just above his glove. It stroked his skin as light as a feather before rearing back and flaring brightly like molten lava. The smoldering tendril shot forward and wrapped tightly around his wrist, soon joined by another and another. Marceau’s eyes widened and a sharp inhale bit his lungs as a shock of pure, freezing cold power traveled up, spasming the muscles of his forearm. Int
ricate blue scrolls and spirals fired, glowing and trailed up his arm.

  “Oh shit,” cried Finn. “What the hell is that?”

  “Marceau?” Seraphina stared at his arm.

  Marceau rotated his wrist and flexed his arm. “You both see it too?”

  She said, “Y-yes. What is that?”

  “This is precisely what your hex looks like, only yours is in fiery shades of red. It started clear and thin, so faint it was almost like moving water. As we have worked together, it’s been growing brighter and more colorful. Pale pink at first, then rose, and today it is red and amber, like a burning flame.”

  “And mine? Mine looks like this?” Finn was staring at Marceau’s arm and then he looked at his own arm.

  “Yours is always gray and black. It is shadowy. That’s why I can usually see hers more easily. But yes, you carry the same patterns.”

  Marceau hissed as cold marks spread across his chest. He jerked his head to the side as the hex traveled up his neck.

  “Is it hurting you? Should I move? Leave? What do I do?” Seraphina asked.

  “Just stay still, please,” he whispered.

  Cold energy traced his face along his hairline. Marceau’s chest muscles were spasming, and when he exhaled, his breath was visible as if the room was freezing cold.

  “Your lips are turning blue, Marceau. Are you okay?” Finn asked.

  “Y-yes. Let it f-finish.” His teeth chattered.

  “Finish what, Marc?” Finn asked. He moved closer to Marceau’s end of the table.

  “I’m not sure yet. But whatever it’s doing is important. I can’t explain how I know, but I feel it. This is what we’ve been waiting for. Her hex is blooming.” His teeth chattered louder.

  He felt light, free. And then everything faded to black.

  When Marceau regained consciousness, he was on the couch with several blankets tucked under his chin and a hot water bottle behind his neck. His arms and legs were heavy and stiff, and he held his palm to his pounding forehead.