Pulled Away (Twisted Fate, #1.5)

by Sasha Leigh

  We finished rubbing the ash onto the First, but had to re-blend areas uprooted by the wind or already absorbed. He hadn’t moved, not even a twitch. It was almost like he was dead.

  “Why did He create all the worlds and the Olympians?” I asked before she continued. “If He created them with this power, the power was His to begin with.”

  “His power was too great and diverse to focus enough attention on any one ability. To keep the Void tamed, every one of those abilities needed to be at its topmost level of expertise. By giving each world a single power, each skill was mastered, nurtured so it could grow.”

  “So the worlds keep the Void trapped.” I sat back once the First was covered completely with ash. “How did the fighting stop?”

  “Fate.” She sat back and brought her hands to her face. Her fingers slid into her mouth and a whistle cut through the air, so ear-splitting and loud I found my hands covering my senses at the sides of my head.

  “Couldn’t you have just knocked?” I lowered my hands and she shrugged her indifference.

  “All the living creatures in every world are bound by Fate,” she continued in a rush. “We are centered in the Void as a reminder to each world that if the peace is broken, the power to exterminate their race still exists.”

  I didn’t speak while I absorbed her information. Why hadn’t we learned of this? Why hadn’t we ever been told? I looked to the First. What happened to our kind when penetrated by the ancient darkness of His first creation?

  “What’s wrong with him?” I nodded to the First.

  “He’s been infected. This Darkness doesn’t need permission to enter, and it will attack his soul until he dies.”

  “What?” I jumped to my feet. “Why are we sitting here then?”

  “We are waiting for Renalda to grant us entry to her home,” she said, and glanced to the house made of bones. “It shouldn’t be much longer. Relax. Sit. The ash we rubbed on his skin is made of dried blood. It will draw out the Darkness from the First.”

  The wind picked up. A funnel of energy exited the structure behind us, twisting to whisper across the dry land. With each spin it grew closer and closer, a path of disruption in its wake.

  “How does that work?” I raised my voice so my final question could be heard.

  She stood. “The Void loves to eat, Brother, and the only thing more reliable than its hunger is its greed.”

  And yet she had risked drawing my blood within the Void . . . .

  The wind stopped, a haggard lady stepping from its mists. She greeted Lachesis with a nod and then turned to me, and I gasped. The ugliness of the right side of her body was as complete as the beauty on her left.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Despite the rudeness of the action, I couldn’t help but stare. The left portion of Renalda’s body was plump, sagging towards the ground as deformed lumps, but her right side was tall and willowy, and beauty flowed through each movement as graceful as a dancer. Her shoulders slanted with the disproportionate balance the oddity of her form created, but as I struggled to carry the dead weight of the First and keep up with Lachesis while Renalda brought us back to her home, there wasn’t a chance to examine her features more fully.

  Once we were inside, I carried the First into a bedroom across from the entrance, and then got shooed into the living room to wait. After a few minutes, Renalda closed the door to leave Lachesis and the First in the room chosen for his recuperation. She faced me and I stifled a gasp. Her face, like her body, was a contradiction of form. The skin on her left sagged like molting wax and there was a blackened hole in lieu of half her mouth. Her scalp was bare, covered with scar tissue made by burns. Long, thick red hair fell in waves nearly to her waist on the opposite side, her skin clear and pale.

  Green eyes levelled me with their gaze, the only similarity on both sides of her features. I stared back and was surprised to be met with wisdom. She was strong and powerful, her eyes warned, and I would be smart to remember that.

  Renalda would do even better to remember her existence wasn’t sanctioned.

  She smiled as though having heard my thoughts, and cleared her throat. “Would you care for some tea?”

  “No.” I hesitated. She wasn’t going to call me out for my blatant behaviour? The least she could do is explain what happened, though I bet it was personal. How many people could get the best of a witch? Had she harmed herself in a spell gone wrong? “Thank you.”

  Taking stock, I examined my surroundings while she banged around in the kitchen to the right of the living room through open glass French doors. The whole house was spotless, the complete opposite of its exterior, though I had yet to venture out of the living room, an open space with minimal furnishings. The room the First rested in remained vague—I’d been too concerned about his safety to look around.

  I stood from my perch on the armrest of the black leather couch and entered the doorway into the kitchen. It was cavernous, filled with the most modern chrome appliances and a large cappuccino-colored kitchen table. Separating the cooking area from the dining room was an island with marble counters and burners waiting to be used, while silver pots hung from hooks in the ceiling.

  “Your home is great,” I said, and sat, watching as she lifted the kettle from the stove when it began to whistle, a smile lifting the unmarred portion of her lips. It wasn’t a platitude, but it had come as a surprise after viewing what could be seen from outside.

  “I like the modern world.”

  She brought two cups of tea to the table and set one in front of me. Renalda took a step back, and then rounded the table to sit across from me, and it amazed me she didn’t walk with a limp or grimace with pain given her obvious handicap. Why didn’t she use magic to heal herself? Or was she a witch with ethics? Doubtful, given the state of her yard, but I couldn’t think of another explanation.

  “Thank you.” I took the tea and sipped it out of politeness. Smacking my lips, I looked up and raised an eyebrow. “So the outside . . . ?”

  “Is a glamour.” She laughed, pausing to take a sip of her tea through a straw. “It makes people think twice before bothering me, but really, it’s like a home in the middle of a suburb. Those piles of burning rot?” She leaned forward and winked. “Flowers.”

  “And the ash formed of blood?”

  Her smile faded. “Real. Not all who travel here are welcome or friendly, but don’t worry. Most of it is thousands of years old, and none of it is from angels,” she said, and her tone lightened. “As far as enemies go, I don’t need to add your kind to the list.”

  So much for the “good witch” theory, though it pleased me to know our abilities imposed fear or, at the very least, caution. I sat back in my chair and twirled my cup of tea in circles by its handle. “So you are immortal?”

  “I am many things.”

  “Like what?” I asked, curious. I’d never spoken to a witch before, though the First had done his share of judging them. What would he think now that a witch has supplied him with a safe place to rest? Knowing him so well, my guess is he’d condemn Renalda for not letting him die, and then blame me for allowing her to help.

  She set her tea down. “I am a very good interpreter of one’s desires, which is fortunate as I have ways of helping you realize what you want.” She smiled. “For a price, of course.”

  I held her gaze for nearly a minute, but she didn’t blink. The smile she wore didn’t falter, and finally, I rolled my eyes and sighed. Letting go of the cup, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table, and asked, “You know what I desire?”

  She nodded.

  Another minute passed.

  “Tell me, then,” I said, and narrowed my gaze. “What do I desire?”

  Renalda’s smile dropped and she looked down, stirring her tea with her straw. One, two . . . three turns, and she dropped the straw, watching it slow. When it stopped, she looked up from beneath hooded lids. “How about I tell you how I can help you instead?”

  Witches were famous for
their trickery—almost as much as the Sisters—but the woman had piqued my curiosity. Cocking my head to study her, I watched as she refocused on her tea, completely nonchalant as though she had offered nothing at all. Did she have a solution I had yet to think of? Could she help me not only protect Alyssa, but be with her, too? Was it even possible? Or had Renalda been able to read what I want and decided to use it to pay me back for staring at her earlier?

  “How do you propose to help me and what would payment require?” I found myself asking, and was thankful that even if the First could hear me, he was nowhere near strong enough to do something about it.

  “You could have a new mortal form so that you can be with the girl that you love so dearly,” Renalda said, and my body froze. “My payment would be to meet the girl, this leader of the Pure Souls.” She pinched her lips closed and nodded, becoming dreamy, though the hole on her left remained a reminder of how dark her wickedness could become. “I hear great things are attached to her future.”

  Laughing, I shook my head, and she opened her eyes, surprised.

  “Not the response you imagined?” I asked. “I think your mojo is on the fritz today, Renalda.” Perhaps she should find herself a new form to inhabit if she had such talents. “That isn’t my greatest desire, and if you truly knew what it was, you would know that I would never allow Alyssa to enter the Void or to meet you. There are far too many dangers attached to those scenarios, and what I want more than anything? Is for her to be safe. And I don’t care if I have to live in misery in order to make that happen, so please. The next time you think of offering me your “services”, remember that.”

  Being with Alyssa came a close second to keeping her protected, and I didn’t want a new mortal form. I wanted to be with her. Me. In my truest form so that she knew who I was without deception or barriers set by time until she turned eighteen. No disguises. The next time we met she would see this face, hear this voice, and I hoped, remember these eyes. I didn’t want the gimmicks of magic to dilute the experience, no matter how long I had to wait for it to arrive on its own.

  “Well, when your needs change, you will know where to find me,” she said, and picked her tea back up, completely unfazed.

  Lachesis walked into the kitchen looking tired from the journey and her efforts to help the First. She sat at the table and, without a word, snatched my tea, and drank it with just two swallows. When she lowered the cup, she looked surprised that the contents were gone. Renalda stood, grabbing the dish to prepare more.

  “How is he?” I asked in a low voice, and Lachesis slowly raised her head.

  She darted her gaze between me and Renalda, and then, disregarding my quiet tone, said, “He’ll live, but it will take a day or two for him to wake.” She sighed and looked to Renalda. “We do not have time to wait for him to make our plans. Do you know why we’ve come?”

  Pausing with the tea pot raised mid-air, Renalda nodded. “I do.” She started pouring. “Besides, you only visit when you want something.”

  “Can you help?” Lachesis asked, sounding exhausted.

  I looked back and forth between the women, not understanding. What kind of history did they share? Or was that the kind of shorthand witches and Fate were born with? Because I felt completely lost.

  “I can.” Renalda nodded.

  “Can someone please explain what is being discussed?” Focusing on Lachesis, I added, “The last time I was dragged into one of your plans, I lost too much to be able to enter another without full disclosure. Now tell me. What are you talking about? Because I will not agree to Renalda’s terms for acquiring another mortal form, and you won’t like my reaction if you try to negotiate the same deal on my behalf.”

  My body hummed with built-up energies, but Lachesis didn’t say a word. The silence stretched so long I almost got up and left, not caring if I would have to trek through the Void to get away, or the fact that the First couldn’t join me. Lachesis cast her gaze down and I glanced to Renalda, raising my eyebrows.

  Renalda stared at Lachesis for a moment longer and then slowly twisted to face me. “She wants me to provide a concoction for you to hide who you truly are. It won’t change your appearance, but it will mask your natural power—the Glory within your soul—from being detected by Darkness.”

  “That’s . . . perfect.” The static charging my skin shorted out, and the raised hair on my arms fell flat. I looked to Lachesis. “Right?”

  “It is what you need.” She nodded. “To protect Alyssa, you have to blend in as a human or Darkness will detect you, and I don’t know if it’ll retreat or strike if that happens.”

  “Wait,” Renalda said. “There are drawbacks—side effects, if you will. Cloaking your powers from others will mean cloaking them from yourself as well. You will be mortal, cut off from all of your angelic . . .” She looked me over from head-to-toe, and smiled. “Powers.”

  “Then how will I protect Alyssa if danger arrives?” I asked Lachesis, but once again Renalda spoke when Lachesis refused.

  “The cloak isn’t indefinite,” she said. “It will fade, but should you need it to do so immediately, there is another concoction to cure its effects.”

  “So then provide me with both.” Why make such a production when the solution was so easy to obtain?

  “I will provide what you need to cloak your powers as a returned favour owed to the Sisters,” she said, and Lachesis nodded her acknowledgement of payment. “The second will require payment from you.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to await for your answer for whatever it is you require,” I said. “I am not able to bargain, and if I did, it may not be validated by the First when he recovers.”

  Renalda and Lachesis shared a glance and then looked back to me. My stomach plummeted, and I realized before the words were said that I wouldn’t welcome what they were about to reveal. Lachesis was, above all else, a mind of logic. She had to be to deal with Clotho and Atropos, and make sure their work was fulfilled. But for once, I wished she could forget knowing my kinds’ protocols.

  “You are the Second,” Lachesis said, finally making eye contact.

  I glared back at her and ignored Renalda. Shifting my weight, I shrugged. “So?”

  “Right now the First is incapacitated by illness and He cannot be found.”

  Oh, no. Please don’t say it. I will go and find Him or wait for the First to awaken.

  “The decision falls on you to make now. Without them, you are in charge.”

  That is what I had hoped she wouldn’t say.

  CHAPTER TEN

  After the initial shock that I was in charge—the Brother who had been brought back from demotion—wore off, and listening to Renalda’s terms that didn’t involve Alyssa, I didn’t hesitate to accept. Despite my reservations at having to make the call, I knew, just as I knew the First would know upon waking, it was the right choice. Plus, it was my promise to make, though I was still unsure of its premise. What’s a little of my blood given freely when it meant going to Alyssa?

  There wasn’t time to decipher what she wanted it for.

  I expected an athame to slash at my skin the moment I agreed. Instead, it was like humans give blood. Renalda stood from the table and walked over to the kitchen cupboards. From above the stove came a carved box for holding amulets and charms safe, and a small black medical bag. A special needle was produced, like any syringe, but with a glistening point like ice, and blood was drawn to be kept in a light blue vial made from sparkling glass that twinkled under the lights in Renalda’s kitchen like diamonds capturing the rays from the sun.

  Renalda left the moment the vial of blood had been capped and then secured it on a cushioned pillow of navy velvet inside of her box. Humming, she entered a room I had yet to venture to prepare the agreed upon concoctions. Only the fact that I would be able to protect Alyssa calmed my impatience and kept me from following Renalda to demand she hurry, make the potion, and tell me why she wanted my blood as she completed the task.

  �
��Don’t bother saying it,” I told Lachesis once Renalda had left.

  She stared at me, wordless since I agreed, first with confusion, and then disbelief. Now she looked like she was ready to launch another reprimand over my obvious stupidity.

  “As you said, I am in charge, and even if I wasn’t, this was my choice to make.” I stood and rolled down my sleeves, looking down to focus on the buttons. “Take me to see how my Brother is feeling.” I looked up, clenching my jaw. “Please.”

  As far as I was concerned, Lachesis, her sisters, and the First . . . they were as much responsible for the deal with Renalda as I was when I agreed. If Fate had had the foresight to look past Alyssa’s death all the way to her eighteenth birthday, they would have known expending my mortal form as a means to remove her from Death’s list had been foolish. Maybe, and this was stretching it, they wouldn’t have been stupid enough to place her on the list in the first place.

  But that was probably giving them too much credit.

  Keeping my features neutral and my eyes forward so that Lachesis couldn’t pick up on the shift in my mood, I nodded to the open doorway. “Lachesis.”

  She shook her head, rising with a cluck of her tongue and a disapproving glare. She didn’t speak, though, and I was grateful. Lachesis brought me to the First, and after checking to ensure the Darkness was still taking its bait, left us to rest on our own. The door clicked behind her and I felt my body release the tension within.

  I lay on the floor beside the bed he slept in and twined my fingers beneath my head, staring at the ceiling above. It had been a simple exchange. Soon, I would be back with Alyssa. She would know me for who I really was, at least on the outside, but never as David again. Would it matter? I could see her whenever I please and she would be safe, beautiful, and mine . . . Always mine.

  Turning onto my side, I exhaled as I closed my eyes. Would she still love me? Even though she’ll never know me as the boy she loved? The boy she lost? Could she forgive me for the loss she had been forced to withstand?

  ***

  The next morning I was the first to wake, but then, I had hardly slept. Knowing that Alyssa needed to be protected, and that I might get there too late, projected horrible scenarios into my head every time I closed my eyes, and eventually, it was easier to keep them open. I wandered into the kitchen and sat in the dark, staring at nothing as I went over everything that had brought us here, still not knowing the cause.