Before her nerves could stop her, she took a step forward. A wind of pure energy began whipping her hair and clothing, blinding her with its force. Shielding her eyes, Bell fought her way forward, each step bringing a fiercer gust of wind. Instinctively she headed towards the center where the rose bush sat.
The wind turned into a thousand strands, each individually flicking her as it flew over her exposed flesh. Glancing down, Bell saw bloody red welts rising on her bare skin everywhere it touched. With each step, she felt like she was pushing up against a wall, as the wind created more and more resistance.
Stepping into the center was like reaching the eye of a hurricane – everything was suddenly calm. The contrast was so shocking that Bell’s momentum flung her forward, causing her to crash into the flower bed, barely missing the spikey plant.
Bell reached forward towards the dead rose bush. The quiet ache in her chest for the death of something so beautiful was appalling. It didn’t matter that while the rose was alive, Alder was imprisoned here. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would see such a rare plant, and now that it was gone, she missed its beauty.
Carefully she tried to break off a small piece of stem to check if the interior was dead, but her hand slipped, sending a large thorn straight into her palm. Blood welled up, leaving a dark glistening trail on the stem of the plant.
Extracting her hand from the still attached thorn, Belladonna inspected her palm and cursed. It wasn’t enough she was still recovering from a head wound and a badly burned arm, and now she had to deal with a considerable stab wound in her only reliable hand. Eyeing the offending thorn, she wasn’t even sure how the point hadn’t torn all the way through her hand.
A loud crack reminiscent of a whip scared her. Jerking her head up so quickly it made her head spin, she thought her vision was untrustworthy again; rose petals were falling like rain down upon the clearing. Their soft scent was magnified until it almost choked Bell, cloying to the inside of her mouth and lungs, submerging her senses. Only this feeling of drowning convinced her the vision was real.
The petals began to swirl, caught in whatever element Bell had forced her way through only moments before. First slow, then faster and faster. They spiraled around her until it seemed she was caught in a spiraling cyclone of blood, each dark petal blending into the next.
Terrified, Bell realized that her feet seemed frozen to the ground, whether by fear or magic, she didn’t know. She stared up, waiting for something to happen, trapped until it did. Suddenly a booming crash made her head reel, followed by a bright flash of light strong enough to shine through the petals. The petals dropped to the ground around her creating a thick carpet.
Turning to look back at the Palace and the source of the noise, she gaped. The highest tower, the one where Alder had painted, was alight with great leaping green flames that were devouring the structure.
A second bang knocked Bell off her feet, throwing her to the ground. A green light flashed through the air again, this time blinding without the dimness the rose petals created. Struggling back to her feet, trying to avoid using both her burned arm and her newly injured palm, Bell gasped. Now the source of the green flames was clear: where the lighting had hit the eerie flames erupted.
There was something fundamentally wrong with the fire as it raced along the tiles. It leaped and galloped like wild animals, consuming everything in its path, spitting out only ash. Faster than any fire she had ever seen, it ate through everything it touched. It seemed as if the flames were alive, sending fingers of flame out in all directions.
An earth-shattering crash signaled the collapse of the tower, no longer strong enough to stay up after the flames had ravaged it. The wild green flames started consuming the lawn where it had fallen, the vegetation no match against such power. Within seconds it was a quarter of the way to the maze where Bell stood spellbound by the chaos unfurling before her. She had never imagined she would witness the end of the world, but here it was.
A great gust of wind toppled her. Landing on her injured arm, she screamed, her burns lighting up. She cradled it, looking around to see that the rose petals had been swept away. She was blinded for several seconds by the light of a third burst of lightning and thunder, louder and brighter than all the others combined. When her sight started to return, she noticed that not all the petals had disappeared – there was still some laying near her in what seemed to be a pattern of some kind.
Rubbing her eyes to clear the spots still dancing around, Bell realized that instead of a pattern, the petals actually spelled out one single word.
A cacophony of sound burst Bell’s eardrums. The green conflagration had reached close enough that she could hear the flames, each one screaming like a wounded animal. Two more lightning strikes hit near the maze, causing the ground to shake.
Glancing at the petals on the ground, Bell turned and did what they had directed her to do: run.
Bell didn’t know how she made her way out from the maze or reached the edge of the grounds. Cold panic gripping her tighter than it ever had before, the unnatural fire pursued her with single-minded determinedness. The light chased after her, alive and feeding off the remaining threads of magic.
For every step she took, it seemed the fire took two, catching up to her quickly, its unholy heat burning her back, snapping at her heels. Bell didn’t stop until she reached the front gates. Only then did she turn to see the flames a mere twenty feet from her.
Hysterically, Bell turned to the locked gate. Her arm and head ached just looking at it, reminded of the last time she had tried to touch it. Bell knew the flames were quickly approaching, their hissing and growling raising the hairs on her neck. She refused to die standing idly by, waiting for the fire to eat her up.
Reaching out, her palm still bleeding, Bell pushed the latch up, prepared to be flung back like she had been last time. Although pain shot through her body, it was less, and she grit her teeth, pushing with all the strength she had left. The gate opened just enough to slip through to the other side.
Taking a few steps, Bell collapsed on the ground, shaking uncontrollably from the pain. The combination of her injuries and her flight was too much for her body. Black dots were floating before her eyes, unconsciousness calling to her. Fighting to stay alert, she looked behind her at the gate and flames beyond.
Once she had slithered through, the massive gate slammed shut behind her. The flames licked at the iron bars but didn’t seem able to pass through to follow her. Relief washed over Belladonna – she wasn’t sure she could stand, let alone continue to flee. As long as the flames resided on the other side, she could rest.
Two things happened simultaneously – the sound of the Palace collapsing in on itself shaking the earth and a single foot of flame poked through the iron bars.
Bell stared at it, praying fervently that no other flame would cross. Her wish went unanswered – a second, and then a third flame reached over, setting the small tufts of grass aflame with its eerie green glow.
The breath caught in her chest as she staggered up, turning to run again. She wasn’t far into the forest before a stitch in her side formed, cramping further with every labored breath. Smoke began to fill the air around her, the thickening canopy trapping it, causing her to cough with every gasp.
Bell didn’t look back anymore – she was the wild prey, the magic fire the hunter bent on her death. Every time she stumbled in the growing darkness Bell wondered if she should give up. Her body had barely been up to the walk to the maze, and she knew she was pushing herself too far – she couldn’t keep running. Even with the darkness of the densely placed trees, Bell could see unconsciousness on the edges of her vision – dark and cold. And deadly.
Pulling herself back up using whatever was closest, Bell pushed forward after every tumble, even knowing that she was slowing with every step.
Visions of her sisters, her nieces, and nephews, her father, Alder, flashed through her mind. There was no way around it – she would
die here, and she would never see any of them again. For the briefest of moments when the latch on the gate had risen, Bell had allowed herself to hope she would see them, but that hope had died with the leap of flame over the property line.
Her newly risen grief pushed her forward – even if she knew she’d lose against the green fire, she refused to stop struggling to get home. It had never occurred to her that she had this type of strength inside her. Driven by love, not fear, she was tearing herself apart, fully cognizant that death was inevitable. Each step she took was strength, each step a choice as to how she would die.
The blackness of the forest was beginning to brighten, green-tinged light starting to reveal the deepest part of the woods. There wasn’t much time left before she was caught and consumed, no longer Belladonna, but instead ash mixed in with the trees.
A sense of acceptance settled in her heart. She had tried everything. She had fought harder than she thought possible. She hoped that Sidero would come up with some explanation for her family. Her body slowed. It knew the end was here, now. Belladonna continued placing one foot in front of the other. There was no stumbling; the flames were lighting up the forest in all directions.
Springing up out of the darkness, Bell saw a stretch of space before her that wasn’t lit up. Instead of slowing her step, she pushed herself one last time, determined to get there before the fire got to her. Using her dying breath, Belladonna threw herself over the edge. She sailed through the air, a lifetime lived in that moment. She plunged into the icy black water below. The sweet relief of darkness swallowed her up.
Chapter Fourteen
Bell stood in the bend in the road right before Flor Cottage.
This wasn’t what she had expected death to be like, but here she was. Lifting her arm to inspect it, she saw that the burns hadn’t disappeared, but they were healed into distorted red scars. Pressing her finger to one, there was no pain. Reaching up, she felt the back of her scalp, finding a thick, raised scar. Perhaps she had thought they would be gone in death, but it didn’t really matter as long as they didn’t hurt.
Bell glanced at the road, knowing if she went forward, she should arrive at Flor Cottage, and if she turned and went the other way, she would head away from Town into the rolling hills. There really wasn’t a choice to be made – she started back home.
Rounding the corner, she paused in front, greedily taking in every feature of the small cottage. She had the happiest memories here with her family, ones more full of laughter and love than any she had in the Big City. It was a relief to know she could spend her time here, whatever time death required.
Pushing open the gate, she found the front door unlocked and sat at the table, closing her eyes and breathing in the familiar scents that enveloped her like a soft hug. Bell felt a smile tugging at her lips. She may have died, but deep inside her, she knew that her family and Alder were being taken care of. It hurt to know she wouldn’t see them, perhaps even after their deaths, but sitting here in peace, she knew she would have made the same decisions if given a second chance. It had been worth it.
The front door jiggled and flew open, followed by the jumble of many voices. Startled, Bell stared in silence, her mouth slightly ajar at her sisters who were busy chatting.
Before Bell could wonder whether they could even perceive her as she was dead, they turned, and Poppy blanched.
“Belladonna!” she screamed, rushing forward.
“What? She’s here?” Geranium shrieked, feeling her way over to the sound of Poppy’s voice.
“When did you get here!?”
“We weren’t expecting you yet!?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming today? Everyone is in town we would have all been here!”
“Are you all healed?”
“We’ve missed you so much!”
Bell sat, stunned, allowing her sisters to envelop her in tight hugs and sisterly affection. Before she could stop herself, thick tears began to roll down her face. She didn’t know if she was dead or alive, but being wrapped in her sister’s arms was more than she had ever hoped for. It didn’t matter if it was real; it was too sweet.
“Oh, no!” Poppy spluttered.
“What’s wrong, Belladonna!” Geranium added, unable to see the commotion.
“Please don’t cry!” her sister implored.
“Does something hurt?”
“I’m just so happy to see you,” Bell choked out, unable to cease crying.
Once they were all settled around the table, Poppy glanced at Bell’s exposed arm but didn’t say anything. Geranium asked instead, “We know you got hurt, the letter from that Sidero said so. How bad is it?”
Poppy gasped eyes darting between her younger sisters.
“It must be bad if Poppy is making that noise. Tell me – where’d you get hurt? I can’t exactly see it.”
Bell couldn’t help giggling at her sister’s forthrightness. “I guess it is rather bad. One of my arms was badly burned and has now been scarred, and I have a wound on the back of my head. It’s healed now.”
Geranium reached out. “Come here, I want to feel them.”
While Bell was being poked and prodded, Poppy explained, “Since she and Dr. Jayr got married, she’s been helping him at the clinic. Even without sight, she’s quite useful.”
Feeling the back of Bell’s head, Geranium laughed. “I at least try to be useful. Well, little sister, it feels like everything has healed as cleanly as it possibly could. I do want to know what happened, though, and how you ended up back here.”
Poppy nodded.
Gulping Bell stared at her older sisters, unsure what to tell them. “There isn’t really much to tell,” she started. “You already know there was an accident – I got injured. I took some time to heal, and then I came home.”
“What about that man? The one you were taking care of. What happened to him?” Poppy asked concern etched into the lines on her face. Bell hadn’t realized how much her sisters had aged since she last saw them. How much time here had passed in her absence once again?
“He – he was involved in the accident. He’s gone.” Bell felt tears prick the back of her eyes again, and she angrily rubbed her face.
Geranium reached across the table until she found Bell’s hand. “I know you did everything you could to save him. We won’t bring him up again, but we’re here if you want to talk.” She squeezed Bell’s hand. “What happened to the estate?”
The memory of eerie green flames and smoke filled Bell’s head, and she shuddered. “There’s nothing left. It’s all gone.”
Neither of her sisters asked any more questions, instead filling Bell in on everything that she had missed. Bell was delighted to hear that Poppy and Oppa had finally gotten married and that she had two new nieces – one from each of her sisters. Both girls were back in town with Papa, who had moved into the house that Oppa had bought. He still had trouble walking and with his mind, but nothing had worsened. As long as one of the older kids was there to help him, he spent hours with his newest grandchildren.
“No one lives here anymore?” Bell asked, looking around Flor Cottage. She hadn’t been able to tell – there wasn’t any dirt or dust showing signs of abandonment.
“Poppy and I still come out here to work in quiet sometimes, and sometimes just to get away from all the chaos. But no one has lived here continuously for at least a year and a half now.”
“Not that you could tell,” Poppy added. “There’s never any dust or upkeep when we come back; it’s almost like magic.”
Bell nodded, sure that it was magic of some sort. “I don’t think I have the energy to walk all the way back into town. Do you think it’d be possible for me to stay here tonight, and then tomorrow we can surprise everyone?”
“Yes!” squealed Poppy, sounding just like her younger daughters when excited. “I’ll have to tell Oppa, but we can set up a little celebration! Wait, no, it’ll be a big celebration! After so many years, our little Belladonna has com
e home! Oh no, I better get going now if Oppa’s going to make a big enough cake, oh no…” Poppy trailed off, muttering to herself and using her fingers to keep track of whatever she was counting.
“I’ll come get you tomorrow,” Geranium said, rising from her chair to follow Poppy. “We have some old dresses in the wardrobe if you want to change.” She kissed the top of Bell’s head as she passed. “We’re so happy you’re home, Belladonna. And I hope that the absence of your friend doesn’t ruin future happiness for you. From what you said and wrote about him, I’m sure he would have wanted you to be happy. So, let’s be happy starting tomorrow.”
After her sisters left, Bell laid her head on the worn kitchen table. During her time imprisoned without Alder, Bell thought her heart had callused over, numbing her heartbreak. It seemed not; hot tears were running down her cheeks again, her chest tight.
Bell knew what Geranium had said was true. Alder would have wanted her happy above all else, but it didn’t assuage the guilt she felt. Somewhere Alder was alive and didn’t remember her, and she selfishly wanted him to look for her, to find her. What if he was married? A burst of hatred erupted in Bell towards the faceless woman, even while knowing it would be best for him.
Bell allowed herself tonight to cry, and then no more. She and Alder had loved each other, but their paths had only crossed for a short moment. They had gone their separate ways, and Bell couldn’t allow everything they’d gone through to go to waste. She had made it out; Alder had made it out. There was nothing more that she could ask for.
Rose Bound Magic Page 17
