From Spirit and Binding

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From Spirit and Binding Page 16

by Carrie Ann Ryan

And yet, they were real. And, yes, they haunted my dreams, but they weren’t the true nightmares.

  No, the screams of that old woman as she died in that cave. The shouts of the innocent as they tried to run away from the Lord of Water as he used bone magic to twist and penetrate the goodness of the Wielding.

  Emory’s screams as she sat in front of me, still chained to the walls in her room that was far closer to a dungeon than Easton had said.

  Those were the things in my nightmares now.

  As I rolled out of bed, sweat drenching my skin as I tried to calm my breathing, I knew that they would never go away. That there would be no more going home. This was my home now.

  I would never see my parents again. They would forever walk through the human realm, their memories altered so they didn’t even know that they had a daughter. Same as what had happened with Emory’s and Braelynn’s parents.

  They couldn’t miss their girls because their children had never existed to them.

  I could never go back. And I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.

  I had never fit in there. Perhaps I could fit in in this realm.

  And as the magic shuddered around me, the crystal flaring as it did more often than not these days, I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth.

  The people here didn’t trust me. They didn’t know me. Some saw me as their savior because that’s what the ancient texts said. Those tomes had only hinted at prophecy. They hadn’t actually said what that foretelling was.

  Only a handful of people, including myself, knew the words now. None of us knew the meaning.

  We would figure it out. Because I didn’t really know what I would do if we didn’t. There wasn’t a true answer. I suppose that’s why fighting was worth it. Because we needed to unravel the prophecy to find answers.

  Some people had more history, more brainpower and experience when it came to things like this. Perhaps they would find a way.

  And then they could tell me what I needed to do.

  And I would do it. No hesitation, no questions asked. These people had put their lives on the line for me. And I was far beyond the argument that I wasn’t the Spirit Priestess.

  I felt the four elements pulsating through my veins, fighting for control even as I slowly let them slide through my fingertips and out my pores.

  I knew who I was, I just didn’t know what that person was supposed to be in the grand scheme of things.

  My shirt stuck to my skin, and I plucked at it, wincing. It was one of the Maison’s shirts, not something from the human realm. Clothing and technology tended to implode here. Rhodes had said it was because of the magic in the air and how it was too much for conventional textiles and other things that came from the human realm. I just figured that the Maison realm was already in enough trouble, and it didn’t want anything within its borders that could cause it more harm.

  I quickly pulled off the tank as well as my shorts and walked to the washbasin so I could at least rinse off.

  Not all of the rooms had showers and bathrooms in this castle, although Easton was working on the technology to make that happen. Everything wasn’t medieval. It was more that some pieces of technology had moved faster than others, while some progressed in magical terms rather than industrial ones. And since the magic itself was fading and rotting thanks to the crystals slowly breaking down, it wasn’t able to actually create new Wielders and inventions. It was too busy trying not to shatter.

  Plus, Easton and his mother had been more focused on figuring out the actual rot within their borders. Namely, Lore. As well as trying to protect themselves in the war with the Lumière and process the fact that their people were dying. Because without the crystal feeding energy to its people, not only was the magic dying, the entire realm was. And once it folded in on itself, there was no coming back from that.

  So, things like a shower in every household, even as high-tech as that seemed in this realm, wasn’t the number one priority.

  However, Easton had put me in the same set of rooms I had been in when I first entered the Obscurité Kingdom, the ones closest to his. So, I had a semblance of a shower.

  Everything was still that same stone as before, the shiny, black obsidian that called out to me. I had seen the clear crystal stones, the white ones that shone in the marble parts of the Lumière castles as well. I loved them both.

  They called to me, dual sides of a coin that reached out to my heart.

  And that’s why I knew I was made of both kingdoms, one realm.

  It was hard to think that when I spent so much time in the Obscurité Kingdom and felt as if the Lumière Kingdom were the one on the other side of the enemy line, especially considering what Emory had said—even though we weren’t sure we could trust her. And given the way the King of Lumière had acted, I just didn’t know anymore.

  I quickly showered and braided my hair back, knowing that I’d need to cut it soon. Long waves now reached the small of my back and were getting far too long for battle. Maybe I would cut it short like Wyn had always said she would do for me. I liked it long. Enjoyed being able to play with it and try different styles. At least, I used to.

  Now, I always kept it back, a few pieces falling forward as I worked.

  And I wouldn’t lie to myself and say that I disliked when Easton reached out and tucked those pieces behind my ear. Even if he didn’t realize he was doing it.

  I was just finishing putting on my leathers when a knock sounded at the door, and Easton walked in.

  I quickly turned, making sure my top was tucked in and my breasts were covered, concerned that I hadn’t fully done so before Easton walked in.

  “Thanks for actually waiting for me to say, ‘come in,’” I growled, hating that my cheeks were red. I could feel the heat of my blush. Even more than the burn, I disliked the fact that I almost wished Easton had come in sooner to see.

  I was a glutton for my own punishment. Since that wasn’t stopping anytime soon, I just needed to get over it.

  “I figured you would already be up and ready, sorry for intruding.”

  He didn’t sound sorry at all. And as I turned to face him, I saw that cocky grin. The one that he always had, and that I had sort of fallen for. I said “sort of” because I wasn’t going to actually admit it.

  “Whatever you say. Are you here for a reason?” I asked, trying to put distance between us. It was hard when all I wanted to do was lean forward and hold him. To tell him that everything was going to be okay as he did the same for me.

  I wasn’t that little girl anymore. I didn’t need that. I just needed to get things done. And I couldn’t do that if I were pining.

  “You said this morning that we would try to work on Emory. I was thinking all night, and I think I have a plan.”

  My brows rose, and I took a few steps forward. “What are you thinking?”

  “A siphon pulls at the Wielding and the life energy of the Wielder in front of him or her.”

  “I know. At least, that’s what you said.”

  “What if we were to use something that most siphons have never seen before.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “A Spirit Wielder.”

  “I’m not one. It’s the one element I don’t have. And how is that supposed to work anyway?”

  “A Spirit Wielder can see inside other Maisons. They can see all of the elements, the Wielder’s soul. I don’t really know what happens after that.”

  He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his light jacket, and I just shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I don’t really know either. But maybe it could help? I don’t really know what to do, Lyric. Most siphons die because they don’t know how to handle the power. And those that survive, usually end up on the other side of a sword because they’re constantly trying to kill those in front of them. I don’t want your friend to go through that.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Justise is working on shackles t
hat aren’t so…physically restraining, as well.”

  My brows rose. “Your uncle’s a weapons maker.”

  “He’s a blacksmith,” Easton corrected. “And he’s the best there is. If we can tamp down her powers, maybe she’ll be able to actually control what’s going on inside her, and she won’t scream all the time.”

  “She always had that attitude, though. What if it changed whatever’s inside her, and not just the powers?”

  “I don’t know, Lyric. We’ll do what can. What we have to.”

  I raised my chin. “I don’t want her to die.”

  “Your ex-girlfriend is not going to die by my hand. Unless she hurts you. If she tries to kill you, then all bets are off.”

  “She wouldn’t do that.”

  “You don’t know that. So, let’s figure this out. See if you can unlock Spirit Wielding or something to help her.”

  “If I knew how to do that, I would have done it already. I can’t just unlock Spirit and make it happen. That’s not how these things work.”

  “I know that. I’ve watched you unlock some of your other Wielding.”

  “People had to almost die for that to happen. I don’t know what any of this means.”

  “Let’s try and figure it out. It can’t hurt.” He paused and then shrugged. “Okay. It’s probably going to hurt. We can spend the morning working on this. And then we have other things to do. The realm’s in danger, and as much as I want to help your friend…your ex-girlfriend, that is, it’s not the only thing on my plate.”

  “First, stop calling her that.”

  “What? It’s true.”

  “You get all growly about it, and you’re just doing it to needle me. I don’t appreciate that. She harassed me enough. You don’t get to do it, too.”

  A sober expression flowed over his face, and he gave me a tight nod. “Point taken. I’ll stop.”

  “Good.”

  He held out his hand then, and I looked down at it, wondering if I should take it at all.

  Then he gave me that mocking smirk again, and I slid my palm into his. See? Everything was fine. I wasn’t breaking inside and overwhelmed.

  He led me to the dungeon, slowly pulling his hand away as we entered the room where the others were.

  Justise was there, three metal bands in his hands, two smaller, one larger as he glared at Emory.

  Ridley and Rosamond stood on the other side of the room, talking to one another as Rhodes stood right in front of Emory, studying her face. Luken was in the corner, holding Braelynn as Drake danced around his feet. While Wyn and Teagan glared at each other, I noticed someone else in the room, as well.

  Garrik.

  I looked over at Easton, who leaned close. So close, only I would be able to hear his whisper against my ear. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine. I ignored it. “He’s here because we’re watching him. Don’t worry, he won’t learn our secrets.”

  I gave him a tight nod and tore my gaze from Garrik, who just looked timidly at me. He looked scared, as if he were afraid that we were going to murder him on the spot.

  He’d worked for The Gray, maybe like Easton had, but Garrik had been free. Easton hadn’t. Easton had been chained, while Garrik was able to walk around and do whatever he wanted.

  I didn’t really know who to trust at this point. But I knew it couldn’t be Garrik.

  “I didn’t realize I was running late,” I said quickly, and everyone turned to look at me, including Emory, who just glared.

  “You don’t sleep anymore, so I told them to let you rest,” Rosamond said, her voice breathy.

  I looked at her then, her eyes a bit glassy as if she were seeing far off into the distance.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, rubbing her temple. “Just a slight headache. The visions are coming quicker these days. I hate them.”

  Ridley was suddenly there, lifting her chin to look into her eyes. “Tell me how you’re feeling, Seer. Where are the headaches located? Any dizziness? Nausea?”

  “I’m fine, Ridley. You’re such a wonderful healer. But you can’t fix this.”

  “You know healers get visions, too,” he whispered, and I looked over at Easton.

  He gave an almost infinitesimal shake of his head, and I went back to looking at the others. I hadn’t known healers could have visions. Ridley was the one who could recognize Seer magic before. I looked down at my bracelet, the one thing that I always wore.

  Alura had given it to me, and Rosamond had had it made. It told me what territory I needed to be in, at least that’s what I thought it did. Each of the symbols that represented the territories and the elements would burn against my skin, and then I would know where I was needed most.

  It lay inactive on my wrist now, and I figured that I was where the realm needed me. Or perhaps where I wished I needed to be.

  “I’m fine, healer. Don’t worry about me. Let’s worry about Emory here.” Rosamond’s words were soft yet strong.

  “I don’t need your worries,” Emory bit out.

  “Emory. Let us help.”

  I moved forward, and the crowd parted so I could stand in front of her.

  Her black hair was in disarray around her face, her normally trimmed blunt bangs no longer covered her forehead and were swept off to the side as if she had ripped her hands through them over and over again. Her bob wasn’t above her shoulders anymore, this time touching her shoulder and even far past.

  She hadn’t had a haircut since we left the human realm. I hadn’t either.

  I wished there was something I could do. I knew there wasn’t. I didn’t think that me trying to unlock my Spirit Wielding would help her. Maybe once I actually had that element, I’d be able to help. Perhaps we could figure out what had happened and why she had such rage and anger.

  “Why are you so angry?” I asked, not even aware that I was asking the question until it was already out.

  “Because all of you did this to me. I would’ve been fine. I would’ve been okay alone out in the human world without this. Without knowing that realms existed. You had to fall for the pretty face and those silver eyes. Alura and Rosamond had to be there. And those monsters just had to attack us. I didn’t want to be here. I came because I knew you couldn’t do this by yourself.” She laughed then. A chilling sound that slid down my spine and made me shiver. There was also something in her tone that told me that she didn’t mean everything she was saying. She was scared, just like I would be, and that fear was coloring her tone.

  “Emory. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, you’re not. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. After all, I might be here because of you. However, it wasn’t you. No, it was them. The ones who wanted to make me what I am. Whatever the hell I am. For whatever they wanted to use me for. Well, look at me now. I’m exactly where they wanted me. Bleeding inside and wanting to die. They wanted me to be the one to take you down. I couldn’t. I couldn’t even do that simple thing. I hate this. Why won’t you just end me? Why won’t you make this easier?”

  She looked at Justise then, and I knew she had asked this of him before. She had asked him to kill her. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fall to my knees and try to make it okay. Fix this.

  As the four elements within me merged, almost at peace for once as Easton stood by me, I knew I couldn’t fix her.

  I could possibly bind her or something.

  At least, for the moment.

  “You are in my kingdom,” Easton said, his voice low.

  Emory narrowed her eyes at him.

  “The other prince. No, I guess it’s king now, isn’t it?”

  “You seem to know a lot about our realm for someone who claims not to be part of it,” he said casually.

  “I listen. The guards talk. They all do. They forget that I’m here. I know you’re the king. And I know that prince boy over there is related to the other king. The man who did this.”

  “He did this to you?” I confirmed, stepping forward. “Why?
How?”

  “He didn’t do it. He had it done. Actually, I don’t know.”

  Emory rubbed her temples, glaring. “I just remember them saying his name. Saying he was the king, and it was light. So, it can’t be Easton over there because he’s all darkness.”

  “What was the name they used?” Rhodes asked, his voice low.

  “Brokk. Sounds like some football player who doesn’t have a brain cell to his name.”

  She looked at me then, smirking. It didn’t reach her eyes. No, this wasn’t the same Emory I knew before. This one was in pain. And I couldn’t fix her.

  “Emory.”

  “Is it true. Is Braelynn really dead?”

  I looked at her then, confused. “You don’t know?”

  “Nobody tells me anything.”

  Braelynn padded up next to me and looked over at Emory, tilting her furry little head.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell Emory what had happened. I didn’t know that I could. What would make sense? Because the three of us had walked into this realm, not knowing where we were going or what would come for us. We still didn’t. Everything had changed. Nothing was as it once was, and I didn’t know how to explain that to Emory.

  “Who’s this?” Emory asked, looking down at Braelynn. “Never seen a cat with bat wings before.”

  She didn’t reach out. Instead, she kept her chained hands close to her body as if afraid to touch anything. My heart broke for her. She might have said some cruel things in the past, might not have known how to deal with her pain and her temper. But she didn’t deserve this. No one did.

  “I’m sorry, Emory.” And then I told her about myself, about Braelynn and the battle. I knelt down to pet Braelynn’s head as Emory’s eyes widened, and a tear slid down her cheek.

  Emory and Braelynn had never been the best of friends. They had been friends, nonetheless. And there was no going back from this. No changing any of it.

  And I still didn’t know how to make it better. How to make it right.

  Justise cleared his throat, and I looked up at him. The man who wasn’t good with emotions unless it was with his husband, really seemed as if he had no idea what to say.

  “I made these, with Rosamond’s and Ridley’s help. You should be able to wear them around your neck and your wrists to move more freely around the castle.”

 

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