“Of course,” her mother agreed.
She had given information, unknowingly, by replying to Char’s letters. Misti tried hard not to think of how they had gotten information from the vulnixes. Zora shook in her arms now, fear evident in her flattened ears and the way her claws sank deep into Misti’s pants. Misti held her close. I will never let them hurt Zora. Never again.
“If you wanted to see me so badly, why didn’t you just come to me directly? You can obviously travel quickly now.”
“We’re needed here,” her father answered smoothly.
“Yes, there are many things we need to accomplish before we can leave.” Her mother pointed behind Misti. “We also couldn’t leave because of him.”
Misti turned around to see Danill—light brown hair, green and orange eyes, gray clothing like their parents—walking toward them. He was just like she remembered as well, but a deep frown marred his face and a scar that hadn’t been there during her last visit crisscrossed his lip. He looked older, harder, like age had weathered his body into a tough exterior, all sharp edges and jagged scars. Judging from who she had left him with, perhaps it had. And although she had let it go before, guilt wormed its way back into Misti’s stomach. If she had taken him away during her last visit, maybe he wouldn’t look the way he did.
“Danill,” Misti said. Despite everything, a tendril of happiness rushed through her at the sight of her younger brother. She was glad to see he didn’t wear a pendant, the wyvern body jewel clasped tight around his neck. It glinted against his brown skin, just like hers and Char’s.
Danill closed the gap between them, and a moment later, pain lashed across Misti’s cheek, driving her face sideways. A slap. He’d slapped her. She brought her hand up to her cheek and winced, catching his furious gaze. The pain and the intensity of his stare brought her back to the moment that started it all—the banished Blood crafter she couldn’t kill. They truly did look alike, enough to be brothers even.
“Greetings, sister. So nice of you to finally join us,” he said, his voice slithering from his scarred lips in a low hiss. “We’ve been waiting so long to see you.”
Eyes watering from her stinging cheek, Misti looked at her brother and knew he was no longer hers. The realization brought a wave of sadness that washed any happiness away. He looked the same, but he’d been transformed, too. A corrupted version of Danill loomed over her, and Misti knew the brother she loved would never return to her again.
Chapter Eighteen
DANILL PLOPPED DOWN ON the rock next to Misti. Her parents bowed respectfully, and shock crashed through Misti, seeming to draw her down with it as her shoulders slumped. My parents are a lower rank than my brother in this twisted society? They were thirty seasons his senior. Danill waved his hand in acknowledgement of the bow and turned to Misti, reaching forward to finger the pendant around her neck.
“I wanted to thank you, dear sister. In person, I mean,” he murmured. “When you left so long ago, I was but a mere child, lost and afraid, cowering in the wake of the blood our parents shed, protected only by our middle sister because my eldest was too afraid to stand up for us.”
He gave their parents a disgusted look, and hope flared deep within Misti’s gut. His next words extinguished that hope. “But I was curious. I needed to know the secrets behind the powers our parents suddenly had, and eventually I wanted to have that power myself. As you and Char found yourselves repelled by them, I found myself drawn to them, to her. After you ran away, our parents finally brought me into the conversation. Over the seasons they showed me things I never could have dreamed of, and I longed for the power they possessed. Ponuriah showed me things I could never have imagined and now I am part of her bigger plan.”
Misti looked away, mind racing with all he said. He spoke of Ponuriah like she was alive, just like their parents had, but none of it made sense. Ponuriah couldn’t be alive. If she was, everyone who didn’t worship her would be dead. She wouldn’t allow anything less.
Guilt gnawed in Misti’s stomach now, each bite reminding her that she could have stayed, or run away with her siblings during her last visit. She could have helped somehow, could have led him down the right path. But then Zora nipped her shoulder and blinked up at her with wide, scared eyes, pulling her back into the present. Just as she had chosen her own path, Danill had chosen his. Perhaps she could’ve helped by stealing him away, but with the relish he spoke of the sun goddess, it seemed inevitable that he’d find his way to her regardless. She’d deal with her guilt regarding her part in it later.
A long fingertip to her chin pulled her gaze back to Danill. “So I wanted to thank you. Thank you for running away. Thank you for leaving us behind. Thank you for being a coward.”
Thank you for being a coward. The words cut her like a dagger, made even worse by coming from her brother, even from this twisted version before her. The words made her angry. Brave, even.
“You are a coward for running to the sun goddess, such as she is, and betraying your people by turning to the light. Our parents murdered innocent beasts and people to get where they are today.”
“And you think I haven’t?” The smirk that grew on Danill’s lips frightened Misti. The glint in his eyes was close to madness. The wyvern body charm around his neck glinted, too, and Misti found she wanted to rip it from his skin.
“I’m disgusted by what you’ve become.”
He tilted his head in a mock bow and gave an arching flourish with his left hand. A ring sat on his middle finger, made of a white metal encasing a brilliant crimson shard of glass or crystal. It captured the light and sparkled. The wind picked up and caught a few strands of Danill’s brown hair, making them shift and wave. “Likewise, dear sister.”
“What are you going to do with me? With Zora and the others?” she asked, heart thumping double-time. She tried to shove the fear down, but it tightened around her chest, making it hard to breathe or think.
“With Zora, I was thinking of doing something like I did to mine.” Her brother snapped his fingers and lifted his arm. A vulnix suncreature that had once been a striking deep green animal named Turf perched on his forearm, white wings flared out. Its tails curled around Danill’s arm. With each shift, red pulsed through its skin, shimmering through its white fur. Both its eyes were a steady crimson that captured Zora’s gaze and held it. “Like him? He’s much more powerful now. We almost did it, you know, when she came here. We almost transformed her. Zarious convinced us not to, that it would give us away.”
Misti recalled Zora’s memory lapse, that white light that made her tremble for so long. She turned her knees away to put more distance between her vulnix and this one and held Zora tighter against her. “And where is Zarious now?”
“Away,” Danill replied, greedy eyes trained on Zora.
“I’ll never let you touch her,” Misti said roughly. She stood, backing out of the circle and away from her parents and Danill. “You won’t lay another hand on her.”
“No, he won’t,” her mother replied, standing as well and staring at Danill with a cold look that Misti had never seen before. “We didn’t help her just so you could transform her. That wasn’t part of the deal, Danill, and you know it.”
Help her? When did they help her? Misti lingered on that statement for a heartbeat as Danill and her mother faced off. Her father stood as well and put a hand on her mother’s shoulder, as if holding her back. And what is this deal they keep talking about?
“The deal stands.” Danill put two fingers to his forehead then pointed skyward. Her mother visibly relaxed and her father lowered his hand. Danill turned to Misti. “As for you, we’re going to take that pendant off your neck and send you on your way. After we perform one more test first.”
Misti arched an eyebrow, continuing to back away. “Another test?”
Danill laughed, a deep baritone sound that didn’t suit him. He rose and stalked forward in one smooth motion. Before Misti could do anything, he touched the Moon cage around the p
endant and muttered a few strange words. The cage shattered in a flash of blue light that seemed to scatter into the winds.
At once, the pendant pulsed and flared on her skin, heating with such intensity Misti yelled and doubled over. The pain spiked from her neck and radiated outward, up her face, over her shoulders, and down her stomach. Ripping through her like a sword cutting open her skin. Her muscles tightened on instinct, trying to stop the forks of pain traveling through her body, grasping Zora against her chest. The agony was so intense Misti’s world brightened. Her dark pants and boots looked gray, the ashy ground turned white, and when she looked up at Danill, his face had become like the sun with two burning red pupils for eyes. The last thing Misti saw before succumbing to unconsciousness was the crimson smirk snaking across his shining face. Then the world became too white for anything more.
***
When Misti awoke, she was penned in the same cage as before, and Zora wasn’t with her. She rushed to the bars and dipped into her crafting, desperate to sense her companion animal. A burning pain around her neck distracted her, the agony pulling her away from her crafting. The orange glow dimmed as the pendant throbbed—once, twice, three times. The orb was going to radiate outward soon and kill someone, and somehow, deep inside, she knew she couldn’t contain this energy. Not this time. Not after whatever Danill did to release it. Even now the orb beat like a second heart against her chest, thumping just as fast as her own.
She had to get out of this pen and away from her loved ones, or someone would die today. No. No, no, no. She shook the bars. Ignoring the burning around her neck and calling up her crafting, she searched for Zora first and felt her nearby, alive. Relief buckled her legs, and she landed with a thump in the dirt. Knowing Zora was okay, she searched the Ravenlock Woods for something, anything, that could help her. Something huge and terrifying like the unceg, or the wyvern, or that four-headed monster. She sent out a blanket call, a plea for help, a cry for anything that listened.
Her head ached, but she finally realized that she wasn’t alone: she could sense a presence behind her. Panic engulfed her, and she squeezed the bars tighter, not wanting to turn around and see who waited for death. Why even test the pendant again? Danill and the others knew it could kill, could murder just as easily as they could. What more do they need to know? And who did they put in this cage to die? Dylori? Upon turning, an even more terrible sight waited for her.
Char sat in the far corner of the cage, knees tucked to her chin, hair falling like golden rivers over her shoulders. Trembling. Her eyes were wide open and staring at Misti. Judging by the slump of her shoulders and the lighter tone of her brown skin, the pendant had already drained some life from her.
Misti backed as far away from her sister as the cage would allow. “No, Char! They can’t do this to you. I can’t do this to you!”
Char shook her head. “You’re not the one doing it. It’s the pendant. It’s them. It’s her.”
“Her? Ponuriah? That’s not possible,” Misti choked out.
“It is, Misti. She’s back. Or some form of her has returned to the Sunglade. How do you think the sun goddess worshippers could become so powerful? How else could they twist their crafting like this? The Divus who worship in her name were able to imbue their powers into a pendant! Our father can transform beasts into suncreatures! She’s back, Misti. Somehow she’s returned.”
“That…that can’t be,” Misti muttered, shaking her head as if to shake the words from her ears. Ponuriah is a myth, just like all the other gods and goddesses. Isn’t she?
“She is. And you have to tell people. You have to help prepare.” Char lunged forward, gripping Misti’s tunic, her eyes wide and wild. Terrified. “They’re ramping up to something, Misti. It’s only just begun, but something terrible will happen. She’ll return to this continent and all will be lost. You have to tell everyone. Please promise you’ll tell.”
“I…I promise,” Misti replied. No one would believe her, but she’d have to try. For her sister’s sake, she would try. She attempted to push Char away but her sister only tightened her grip, moving her hand from Misti’s tunic to her shoulders. “You have to get as far away from me as possible, Char, the pendant—”
“Will kill me, I know. It’s been their plan all along. I fought them for too many seasons on their own turf. They forced me to send that first letter, forced my hand by threatening Spyre’s life.” Spyre, Char’s beautiful gray and blue vulnix. “They discovered I was sending hints in the letters I wrote, and I guess that was the last straw.”
Hints? She almost asked about it, but then she realized what Char meant. The gray bark, the darkened rocks, the ash that had fallen out of the letters when Misti had opened them. The hints from the Ravenlock Woods she had ignored.
Char took a deep, steadying breath. Her voice calmed and her trembling stopped. Her frightened look disappeared into a hard jawline and a steady gaze. “They knew this would hurt us both the most.”
Words vanished from Misti’s lips. A fighter knelt before her. Not her little sister who cried over everything, or the scared child who needed comfort during a windstorm, but a warrior, one who had been fighting evil alone ever since Misti had left. Instead of falling into the terrible light like their brother, her sister had embraced the welcoming darkness and gathered it around her like a shield against their wrongdoing. Had shoved back against them so hard and for so long, that her own family aimed to kill her for it. The change in her sister left Misti speechless.
“I got your last letter, by the way.” Char’s grip loosened on Misti’s shoulders and slid down her arms until they clasped hands. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you to forgive yourself for what you did…for the decisions you made in our past. I’m glad to see it’s finally happened.”
Misti clutched Char’s hands tight. Tears burned the back of her eyes, threatening to fall. The pendant pulsed once. “How do you know…” The rest of the words stuck in her throat.
“That you’ve forgiven yourself? Because only a woman desperate to forgive herself could write those words.” Char’s lips lifted in a soft smile. “And only in searching for forgiveness would my sister finally say she was coming back to snatch us away. To finally be brave enough to do what she couldn’t do before.” She chuckled a little, tears glistening in the corner of her eyes. “I’m ever so happy to see you, Misti, for what little time I have left.”
Misti’s lip quivered. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She reached out to wipe the tears off her sister’s face, cupping her cheek and rubbing a thumb on the side of her mouth. The pendant throbbed for the second time. “I’m glad to see you, Char. And I’m so proud of you. So proud of what you’ve done, how you stood your ground, how you stayed behind and did what I couldn’t.”
Char shook her head. “You fought them in your own way, Misti, and as insane as this sounds, they’re not…all bad. Our parents did help Zora, after all. The light hasn’t washed away all of their souls just yet.”
“What do you mean?” The pendant pounded like a heartbeat a third time, growing hotter than ever before on Misti’s neck. She tried her best to ignore it, tried her best to ignore the bomb about to go off on her chest.
Char only shook her head again, tears drawing lines down her cheeks. She pulled Misti in close for a bone-crushing hug full of life and hope and memories and love and comfort. A sister’s hug.
“I love you, Misti.” Her voice finally cracking, finally sounding like the younger sibling Misti once knew. She pulled away from the hug, eyes darting down to the pendant for a heartbeat before she looked back up at Misti with a frightened but determined expression. “Please tell someone…everyone about what’s been going on here, about what you heard and saw, about this new style of crafting they’ve created. About Ponuriah—”
“I know. I will,” Misti interrupted her, needing to say her piece, needing to comfort her little sister, needing to make sure at least this time, she felt safe and protected and loved. Even if everything but
the last was a lie. “I love you, Char, and you’ll always be my little sister.”
Misti drew Char in for another hug one last time, wrapping her arms around her little sister and pulling her in, smelling the familiar scent of wildgrass in her hair. Feeling the wyvern head charm on Char’s wrist press into the back of her shoulder. The pendant pulsed a final time. Bright white light filled Misti’s vision, but she didn’t close her eyes against it. She tightened her grip on Char and whispered “I love you” over and over and over again until the light died, and her sister fell limp in Misti’s arms. A surge of energy rushed through Misti from the pendant around her neck, a surge of energy from her sister’s death.
Char’s dead. The idea seemed to peel back her very soul and suck the life out of it. Something broke inside of her and her sadness pounded through that crack. Misti cried. Wailed. Rocked back and forth with her sister in her arms, the pain so great she feared it would rip her in two. A pain so great it left a hole in her, a deep gaping pit that she’d never be able to fill. Char’s dead. Hot tears streamed down her face, wetting the back of Char’s tunic.
Wails seemed to answer her from the woods, wails from creatures crashing through the forest to get to her. Friend or foe, she’d know soon enough. She’s dead…she’s dead…because of them. When that thought trickled through her sadness, the tears stopped. She’s dead because our parents and Danill murdered her. Her rocking stilled. Her sadness twisted into something hotter, something rooted deep in Misti’s soul. Dead because of Danill and our parents and Zarious and the sunsick ass of a goddess Ponuriah. Her gasping breaths smoothed into long, deep ones. The pain faded into a dull lingering ache as anger quickly overtook it, a dark fury swirling into the gaping hole where Char had been.
She settled Char down on the ashy ground, guided the tangled strands of hair out of her closed eyes, and kissed her on the forehead. Plucking the wyvern head charm from her sister’s wrist, she slipped it into her pocket. Her sister looked like she was sleeping and even though Misti didn’t believe, she hoped Aluriah had taken her to a warm and comfortable place. When she finally looked up from her sister’s face, she noticed the line of people standing just outside the cage, watching her.
Sunkissed Feathers & Severed Ties Page 33
