by S A McClure
“The Szarmians came up with this?” Emma asked. She trailed her fingers over the quiver Micah had given her.
“They’re rumored to be some of the best scientists and inventors in the whole of Mitier. Why wouldn’t I believe that they were able to produce the technology needed to generate light without fire or magic?”
On a whim, Emma placed her palm firmly against one of the orbs. She expected it to be hot, but it was cool to the touch. It glowed softly beneath her fingers.
“Why would a beast as terrible as the men made him sound install something like this in his lair?” she asked.
Chiara shrugged. “Maybe he got tired of the darkness.”
The sound of clinking metal drew Emma’s attention. She rushed forward, drawing her bow and an arrow as she moved farther down the path. She paused by a bend in the trail where the rock formations had melded together to create a type of doorway. She leaned in close and listened for the sound again.
Her breath caught in her chest. She could have sworn she heard sobbing coming from the other side of the wall. She held up her hand and motioned for Chiara to wait by the entrance. Then, she slipped through the natural doorway and into a medium-sized cavern.
She halted, gasp caught in her throat.
Bookcases full of texts and scrolls lined three of the walls. A round table sat in the corner by a small fire. Orbs of pink and blue light lit the rest of the room. A small bed rested against one wall along with a wardrobe.
“Who are you?” a figure asked from the shadows shrouding the bed.
Emma stepped forward, trying to get a better look at the speaker. Her face came into view.
Emma stumbled backwards.
“Chiara?” she asked. Sweat ran down her back as her thoughts raced. This had to be one of the monster’s tricks.
The woman on the bed pressed herself against the wall. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her body was thinner than that of the real Chiara.
“You can’t fool me!” Emma shouted as she aimed her arrow straight at the woman’s heart. The fake-Chiara slid down the wall, covering her chest with her arms.
“Please don’t,” she begged. “Please don’t kill me.”
The real-Chiara stepped in front of Emma’s bow. She scowled at her, her canine’s flashing as she bared her teeth.
“Put your bow down,” she commanded.
Emma stared at her.
“What?” she asked, too shocked to think of anything else to say.
“Lower your bow or I swear I’ll rip your throat out.”
Emma hesitated for a moment, but then slowly lowered her weapon.
“What have you done?” the fake-Chiara asked from the bed. “Arwawn?”
“Arwawn?” Emma asked, her eyebrows raising. “Who’s that?”
The real-Chiara shivered and her flesh began to melt. It sloughed from her body like a snake shedding its skin. In her place stood a shirtless man.
Emma screamed, raising her bow, but not quickly enough.
The man shot out his arm and gripped her throat. His fingers squeezed into the tenderest parts of her skin as she struggled to suck in air. She choked and coughed, struggling to breathe. Her eyes streamed tears. Dizziness clouded her vision. Her thoughts.
“Stop it!” Chiara cried. She flung herself at them but was yanked back by the chain around her ankle. She wrenched at her manacles, trying to free herself from the wall. She wasn’t strong enough. She reached out, her fingers barely grazing the man’s bareback.
His eyes turned red and fangs descended, sliding over his bottom lip. He emitted the sour stench of old blood. She didn’t want that to be the last thing she smelled before passing.
“Please,” Chiara begged. “Please, don’t.”
Arwawn turned to face the girl, his expression softening. The fangs crept upwards, but were still visible on his ruby lips.
“She was going to kill you,” he snarled.
“No, she wasn’t,” Chiara said. “She was just confused. You pretended to be me, and she didn’t know—”
“She would have destroyed me,” he continued.
The Chiara sighed, her shoulders trembling as she continued to tug on the chain. “She isn’t a danger to us. Please, let her go.”
He released a low growl and turned to face Emma once more. His grip on her neck loosened enough for her to breathe in deeply. It felt as if a thousand miniature swords were being jammed into her throat all at once, but she wasn’t going to complain.
She was still alive.
At least for now.
“Swear you won’t harm her,” he said.
She blinked at him, unable to speak. She silently prayed to the Creators that he understood what she meant.
He quirked an eyebrow at her before dropping her to the floor with a crash. He stepped on her bow, snapping it in two. Emma cringed as the shards of her bow scattered across the floor. Even though her heart hammered in her chest, she lifted her chin and stared the man in the eyes.
He gave her an amused expression before turning his full attention toward Chiara. He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles. Although the girl’s lip quivered beneath his touch, she did not jerk away from him. Emma was impressed by her grit.
“I brought you back a plaything,” he crowed. He leaned in close and nibbled at her ear. “I promised I wouldn’t leave you here alone again, Chiara, and I shan’t.”
The girl closed her eyes for a long moment. She didn’t say anything to him as she wrapped her arms around him and met Emma’s gaze over his shoulder. There were so many emotions trapped behind those startling blue eyes.
She clutched at Arwawn’s back, her long nails leaving tiny red marks on his flesh. One hand began to make symbols in the air. Glittering mist swirled around the girl’s hand before forming into a ball of purple flame.
“Go,” she mouthed as she pressed the palm of her hand against Arwawn.
Emma didn’t have to be told twice. She bolted for the entryway.
He bellowed in pain as the flames expanded up his back.
“You little wretch!” he screamed, kicking Chiara in the gut. She reeled backwards and stumbled over her bed. Her head knocked against the wall with a dull crunch.
Emma didn’t wait to see if she was alright as she darted from the room. She raced through the caverns, trying to remember which way they’d taken at the various forks in the path. She could only pray the Creators were there with her, guiding her through the maze.
Coldness chased her.
At least she’d found the monster. Even if it hadn’t been in the way she had been expecting.
She needed to think of a plan. She couldn’t return to the village without Arwawn’s head. The men there would surely kill her, Iris, or the both of them. She couldn’t let that happen.
Chiara’s flames had stunned Arwawn, maybe even injured him. She considered the possibility of using fire to finish him, but quickly realized that wouldn’t help her in retrieving his head.
It didn’t matter. She needed to escape this place. To find help. She wasn’t strong enough to fight him alone. He’d proven that in how easily he had started to crush her windpipe. She could still feel his icy fingers digging into her flesh.
She squeezed her eyes shut and kept running. She would either escape the endless darkness or die in this cave.
She could only hope Chiara had bought her enough time.
Chapter Five
Emma
Emma used a large rock to bust the orbs as she passed them, hoping the sudden darkness would slow Arwawn’s progression towards her.
It didn’t.
If anything, he seemed to thrive on the darkness. To seep it in as if it were a delicious meal. Wind rushed through the cave’s passageways. The sound of his claws on stone thundered behind her. His presence pressed into the small of her back and bore down on her shoulders.
Cursing, Emma drew a dagger from her boot and charged forward. She didn’t know how she was going to get out of this one, but she
was determined to do so. Her sister’s life depended on it.
A loud boom reverberated through the air. The concussive blast that followed knocked her forward. She cried out in pain as her chin smashed into the mountain floor. Her bottom teeth gnashed into her top lip. Hot blood seeped from the wound as she crawled forward.
She had to keep moving. It was the only thing keeping her alive.
Another boom sounded from behind her. She twisted her neck just far enough behind her to see a brilliant flash of white light before the blast hit her. She fell forward, but caught herself from face-planting again by falling on her wrists. They ached from bearing her full weight.
A ball of purple flame shot past her, singing her left arm as it careened into the wall before her in a blaze of glittering dust. She stole another glance behind her to see Chiara mustering up fireball after fireball. Her eyes swirled, glowing ever brighter the more flaming balls she summoned from thin air.
“What are you doing?” Arwawl hissed as he turned his back on Emma to face her.
Emma hesitated. She could stay here and help Chiara fight the beast, or she could leave it to her to defeat him. She wanted to help. To protect. It was her natural instinct.
But Chiara wasn’t her sister. She didn’t have a claim on her safety.
And she had told Emma to go.
She waited for a moment longer before leaping to her feet and dashing down the hall. Her stomach contracted with anxiety as she passed one and then a second bend in the path.
Her skin turned clammy as a thin line of blue light crept from her chest. She groaned as she realized that her body was conjuring her magical compass.
“Not now,” she hissed, more to herself than anyone else. She shook her hands, willing the sputtering blue light to dissipate.
If anything, its brilliancy grew stronger.
“Balderdash!” she screeched as the blue light burned brighter. It shot back behind her and straight into Chiara’s chest. She paused for a second, staring in disbelief.
And then she laughed.
She couldn’t believe that, after all this time, her ability decided to act up when she was trying to make an escape. She supposed it served her right. She knew the right thing to do was to go back for Chiara. To help her defeat Arwawl.
“Fine,” she sighed. “You got me.”
She turned around and raced back the way she’d come. More balls of flame, these slightly less vibrant than the ones before them, shot past her. She assumed Chiara was running out of steam. She couldn’t blame her. She’d seen what using magic did to both Grandmother Rel and Iris. Although she’d only felt the faintest of fatigue after using hers, she’d just assumed that was because her power was less physical than the others.
Her light was a guide through the darkness.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
She didn’t stop to consider the ramifications of her actions as she slammed into Arwawl. As they stumbled back, she banged the back of her head straight into his nose before twisting around and kneeing him in the groin. He barely seemed to register the strikes. His body dissipated into mist before he hit the ground.
Emma landed face-first, her hands skidding across the rocky cavern floor. Skin peeled from her palms, leaving the stinging buzz of pain behind. She cringed as she grappled for her dagger and unsheathed it. Gritting her teeth, she rolled over and sprang to her feet in a seamless motion.
Arwawl rematerialized again. His eyes glowed a fiery red as he glared at her.
Chiara’s fingertips glowed violet as she advanced on Arwawl. He smirked at her, an amused, yet somehow sinister, expression plastered on his face.
“You can never defeat me, Chiara,” he cooed. “You need me, just as I need you.”
Although her hands trembled, she lifted her chin and said, “I do not need you, Arwawl. Maybe I did once. When I was afraid of my wildfire. But not anymore. Not now that I know how to—”
“You think you know how to control your abilities? You stupid, insolent girl,” he growled at her.
She shrugged. “Say what you will, but I know the truth.”
Emma lunged towards him. She punched him several times in the stomach while simultaneously slamming her dagger into the base of his throat. His eyes widened and he bared his teeth at her. She yanked the blade free, and silver blood poured from the wound.
She raised the dagger to deliver another blow.
Chiara ran between them.
“Wait!” she pled, holding her hands up. “Please.”
Emma staggered backwards a few steps. She couldn’t believe that the girl she’d just seen shackled to the wall would want to protect the man who’d imprisoned her.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I need to do this. He’s a monster. He—”
“He’s my friend,” Chiara said softly. She ripped a strip of cloth from her dress and wrapped it around his throat. “You can’t hurt him.”
Emma’s jaw fell ajar as she stared blankly at Chiara and Arwawl.
“You can’t be serious,” she said.
Chiara shrugged and linked her hand with his. “He’s not always like this,” she said. “Sometimes, he’s good.”
Emma’s eyebrows rose. “Great. So, he’s only a serial killing monster part of the time. Got it.”
“He wants to be good.”
“If you truly believe that, then you deserve to be together,” Emma hissed. She’d had enough of this conversation. She’d come back to help this girl, and what did she get? The blue light emanating from her chest quivered slightly before extinguishing. She clenched her hands into fists. She didn’t want to have to tell Chiara she was a moron for protecting the beast, but she would if she must. Besides, she still needed his head if she was going to convince Fooks to let her leave with Micah and Iris.
“Listen, Chiara,” she began, “I met you about two seconds ago, but I can’t help but feel like I’m supposed to help you somehow. So, if you could just allow me to free you, then I can be on my way.”
Chiara stood, staring blankly at Emma. The expression on her face made Emma’s skin crawl. It was so devoid of all emotion.
She began to shake uncontrollably. Her face contorted into agony as the fire lingering on her fingertips extinguished. She swayed, her eyelids fluttering. Emma lunged forward in time to catch her before she fell to the ground. She sagged beneath the additional weight.
Arwawl removed the makeshift bandage from his throat, the puncture wound now nearly completely healed. He scowled down at them, his eyes glowing a menacing red.
“You think you can come here and steal my most valued treasure from me?” he roared. “You should have listened to the men at the tavern. They know to fear me. I am death. I am destruction. I am—”
“Dead,” Chiara whispered as she lifted a feeble hand and sparks of purple ignited there. A ball of flame sped from her outstretched hand and into the middle of his chest. It exploded in a burst of flame and sparkling mist. Nothing but glittering dust was left behind.
Chiara shuddered a breath and went limp.
Emma sat in silence, cradling the now unconscious Chiara as silver dust fluttered all around them.
So much for being able to prove the beast is dead, she thought as she scooped the girl up and began walking down the path.
She couldn’t believe they’d killed him. Just like that. Well, she supposed she hadn’t done anything. Not really, anyway.
Chiara moaned softly as Emma accidently bumped her feet against a narrow wall. She tucked the girl’s head in closer to her neck to protect her head as they continued on their way.
By the time she made it to the cave mouth, Emma’s entire body was covered in sweat. She didn’t care what anyone said. Carrying another person for what felt like hours was draining. Doing so after a fight with a nearly invincible monster was excruciating.
“Is it over?” Chiara asked. Her eyes fluttered open as sunlight struck them.
“He’s a pile of silver dust,” Emma said. “I think it
’s done.”
Chiara shook her head. “Did you find his ring?”
Emma sucked on her bottom lip in confusion. “What ring?”
“The one he was wearing on his middle finger. Did you find it?”
“I didn’t look for it,” Emma admitted. “I didn’t even know there was a ring to look for.”
Chiara paused. “Did you, at least, hear it drop?”
Emma considered this for a moment. She tried to remember everything from her encounter with Arwawl. Although it had only happened a few hours ago, her memories of the fight were hazy at best.
“I don’t think—”
“It’s not over then,” Chiara sighed. “Of course it isn’t.” She struck herself on the head. “Stupid,” she chided herself. “How could I have been so stupid.”
Emma dropped her to the ground and placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “I know you don’t know me very well, seeing as how we only met today, but here’s the deal. I will do anything to protect my sister. And if that thing in there is still alive, then we have to go back.”
Chiara shook her head. Her cheeks paled further, and she backed away from Emma.
“I can’t go back in there,” she whispered. “Did you see what he did to me? He’ll do it again. I’ll never escape him. Never.” Tears sprang from her eyes and she turned away from Emma.
A thought clicked into place in Emma’s mind. Of course, Chiara protecting Arwawl and then attempting to kill him made sense if he had some sort of ability to control her mind and actions. She scolded herself for not making the connection sooner.
“Do you know how to kill him?” Emma asked.
“Beheading. Fire.” She shrugged. “Honestly, that’s the closest I’ve ever seen anyone get, but you can bet I won’t get that close again. He’ll kill me before he lets me reveal his weaknesses.”
Emma looked at her incredulously. “And what are those?”
“He keeps plants.”
“Plants?”