“No, no it’s not. And that’s why I’m going to rid myself of this, this thing. I could have had nearly eighteen years to work this out. Now I have three moons.”
“I told you before, you are better off dead than trying to sever your soul bond.” Father, despite his rage, began to shake with tears. “My girl. Even you, with all your strength and bravery, are not strong enough to live without your soul. Please. Please listen to us. We have a place for you. A safe place where they will not find you. Trust us.”
“How can I trust the people who have lied to me my entire life?” Emrysa turned on her heel and stormed away. She feared if she spoke again, she would cry; she would not let her parents see her so weak. Not now, not when she needed all the strength she could muster.
“Wait,” Dermot called, jogging to catch up.
“Gather your belongings,” Mother called after her. “We’ll make a plan. You’ll leave at first light.”
Staring straight ahead as they walked from their parents’ chamber, Emrysa spoke to Dermot. “Magic has laws,” she said. Dermot said nothing. He already had an idea where this was going. “But alchemy does not abide by these same laws, is that right?”
“You’re right. There is a—”
“Science. Yes, yes. As you keep saying. And this wormhole you mentioned earlier?” Emrysa let the question dangle, she could almost hear Dermot’s mind ticking. “Do you think it can contain a dragon?”
“Sister, I do not know. But there is only one way to find out.”
They broke into a jog, and then sprinted toward the alchemy chamber.
They did not notice Merlin hiding within the shadows.
8
A Rush of Blood
Emrysa and Dermot skittered around corners and corridors, retracing the same steps they had run in fits of laughter only hours earlier. Now, night seeped through the windows, casting them in shadows between newly lit sconces high upon the wall.
They burst through the alchemy chamber and Emrysa stopped in her tracks.
“Shit!” she cursed, taking in the destruction of the make-shift laboratory. “What in the Goddess’s name happened in here?”
All around smashed vials spewed out dangerous looking smoke, from them, a repugnant smell caused Emrysa to cover her nose as she breathed short, shallow breaths. Next to her, Dermot stood agog, taking in the chaos with a pained expression.
“Do you think they did it?” Dermot asked.
Emrysa didn’t answer as she paced a circle, careful not to step on the broken glass as she did. “It makes no sense for the Council to smash this place up. What would they gain from it?”
Dermot sighed long and hard. “I’m going to fetch Rhian to help clean up this mess. I can’t concentrate or work with all this chaos around me.”
He slipped out, calling Rhian’s name. Emrysa smiled—he always did have a thing for the young maid.
Behind her, the door creaked open.
Merlin crept through taking unsure and apologetic steps as if waiting for Emrysa’s consent. She watched him. Without the pale witch close, his features wore a tired expression, as if a mask of lies and light-heartedness had been lifted from his face, along with her violet aura.
“What do you want?” Emrysa barked, though a strange magnetic force pulled her closer to him.
Merlin hesitated. “To help.”
“To help kill me?” She crossed her arms over her chest, though her heart had already been exposed.
“No, I wish to help you.” He stalked cautiously forward, and Emrysa found herself holding her breath. She noticed, now he was closer, the faint freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. The upward curl of his eyelashes framing his hypnotic hazel eyes. But still, she couldn’t allow herself to trust him.
“Why?”
Merlin shook his head. “I don’t rightly know. At first, I agreed to this enlisting because I have a deep fascination with dragon lore and the myths and legends surrounding dragon hearts. Now, I seem to have a deeper fascination with you. You feel it too. I know you do. In the eaves, when I first saw you, that was the moment.”
Emrysa scoffed and turned away, trying to ignore her fluttering heart. “The moment for what?”
“The moment I realized I would do anything for you.”
Emrysa thought back to his ruby-red aura when he found her spying on her. No, not raging, Emrysa thought. Lust, passion. She gulped, trying to dampen the flame rising in her blood.
“I doubt Nimue will be happy to hear you say that.”
“I doubt anything would make Nimue happy—except of course, power. It’s the only thing she wants,” Merlin said.
“It’s not the only thing.” Emrysa raised her eyebrows suggestively and it was Merlin’s turn to scoff.
“You are talking about her aura’s influence over me.” Merlin smiled the type of smile Emrysa knew could break her heart. “She doesn’t think I know. I only allow her to do it because it allows a connection for me to understand her, to listen to her thoughts. I find I am safer that way.”
“You don’t trust the prissy little wench, either?”
Merlin laughed. “I don’t trust her. I don’t trust the Council. And they don’t know who I am. Not really. They don’t understand my power. I’m there only to gather intelligence.”
Emrysa would have asked for who, but he was so close now, she could see the shades of gold in his irises, and the pull of nature grabbed her heart. Like magnets, they were drawn closer. Merlin took a strand of Emrysa’s raven hair in his fingers, the light tingle of the pull sending shivers up her spine. She couldn’t understand it, but Emrysa felt a desperate desire to taste his lips, to feel his kiss. His hand cradled the back of her head now and pulled her face to his own—not that she needed the guidance. Her lips parted. Her breath short. Her beast stirred within her heart, bounding and dancing against the cavity in her chest. His lips found her own, like lightning finding ground. The shock reeled in her mind but her body could not let go.
Then it happened.
The rush of blood over skin, a heat too hot to bear. Merlin pulled away, his lips, his fingertips blistering. His eyes wide in terror. And she didn’t need to ask why. She could she see her reflection in his eyes. She could see the scales ripple over the skin of her arms.
She could feel her dragon heart awaken.
Confused. Distraught, Emrysa tried to call out, but in the place of her scream, angry golden flames erupted from her mouth just as Nimue darted through the doorway.
In her hands, the pale witch wielded a broadsword. She spun it hand over wrist and it sliced the air with her cruel laugh. Nimue clutched the sword, staring deeply into Emrysa’s eyes, and raised it behind her shoulder.
She wasn’t going to wait to slay the dragon.
9
Falling
Emrysa bellowed—the force of her call sending both Merlin and Nimue crashing to the ground. The golden sword fell from Nimue’s hand, skittering across the flagstones. More vials smashed. Windows cracked. The very ground trembled.
But Emrysa continued to roar with the spell she pulled from the deepest part of herself—a soul-severing spell. She had no other choice.
She staggered backward, seeing her reflection in the cracked windows. It wasn’t the scales rippling over her own body that repulsed Emrysa as the spell began to form, but the way her body jolted and contorted into impossible shapes. She yelled in pain, the sound grating against her aching bones.
Something inside her recoiled, hid, burrowed down deep not wanting to be touched. The dragon? Her soul? Her conscience, perhaps. Her grace? But deeper she dug, pulling at the threads of her fraying soul until she grappled it with her mind completely.
She would not let the pale witch take her. She would not allow Nimue the satisfaction of plunging the golden sword into her flesh.
So in her mind, Emrysa whispered the words through short, sharp gasps of pain.
“I use my soul to save my heart
To make the beast wit
hin depart.
Split my spirit, sever the ties
Release my soul out to the skies.”
The spell. It felt like taking a huge breath just before diving into freezing water. You know what’s coming, you know it’s going to hurt. Your body goes tight, taut, your heart clenches, and then, you jump...
The fall was long and lonely and dark. An empty space in which Emrysa plummeted, smashing through memories and experiences and savored moments. And as she crashed through, each memory spoiled, like a stone thrown into a peaceful lake, the calm surface shattered and perfect reflections distorted. Everything she knew was breaking until there was nothing but black.
And from there, she heard it.
The voice.
Would you really let me go?
She knew it to be her soul. And in the moment, all she wished was to hold it, embrace it, keep it safe inside her body. But somewhere, in the stillness and silence, she could make out the rhythm of her dragon heart and she knew what she had to do.
Yes, Emrysa said. I shall let a part of you go.
And with that permission, a rip sliced across her entire being. A cut. A wound as painful as lost love and heartbreak. A searing agony so cold it burnt, while white hot air hurt her lungs to breathe. She swam upwards from the darkness, upwards from the pit of her being. Upwards to the distant screams and shouts coming from the light.
Nearly there. Her fingers breached the surface. Her life force returned in a whoosh, like a long, hard inhale. Suddenly, Emrysa was back. She returned to her body with a gasp. And although she was no longer submerged in her subconsciousness, Emrysa felt like she was drowning all the same.
A piece—a large piece—of her had gone. And despite the room coming into focus; Merlin’s calls and Nimue’s screams, her brother staring with horrified howls, Emrysa had never felt so empty, so alone. So… lonely.
The world around her seemed to hover in slow motion, faded and muted.
From the corner of her eye, Dermot ran to her, scrambling on his hands and knees to hold her. Emrysa’s seizures finished, her face calm as she gathered her breath with the new emptiness residing within. But she was safe. She was alive, and she knew loneliness was a price she would have to be happy to pay to see another day.
Merlin was at her side now; his lips were moving but she could not hear his words. She focused on the shape of his lips, the movement of his tongue. The urgency in his eyes. Then the ringing quietened, and she began to hear him. A whisper at first before his rages deafened.
“Emrysa!” Merlin yelled. “Emrysa, can you hear me?”
Both he and Dermot stared at her chest and Emrysa found herself too scared to follow their gaze. What had the spell done? What caused their faces to grimace so?
A glow formed, golden and bright, lighting up their faces and glinting on the sword’s sleek blade on the ground. The glow was coming from her. From her heart space. A dreadful thought crept through her veins.
Had she incanted the soul spell in vain?
There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but the glow from her chest erupted, blinding her. Blinding everyone. Dermot fell to the ground. Emrysa and Merlin covered their eyes with the crook of their elbows, and from Emrysa’s heart space, the dragon emerged.
It pushed and pulled its way out of her, its size unfathomable as it continued to shriek and roar and writhe. Emrysa watched on, horrified and silent as the beast burst from her chest in a golden haze. She slumped to the ground with exhaustion when it finally tore free from her.
She turned to Dermot, holding her chest. She had done it—the impossible. A quick smile was all she could afford.
The dragon flew and coiled through the room, angered at its separation. It was not fully formed, more like the spirit of itself—ghostly pale and almost translucent. Yet it still clattered into things, causing mayhem in the lab, and Emrysa, for once, had no idea what to do. She watched with a mixture of longing and pity and a terrible sense of loss, knowing a part of her very being had been stripped from her body.
It continued, not angered, but confused. Scared. Mirroring Emrysa’s own sense of tragic mourning. The beast called into the night-time air. A mournful wail of loss and emptiness. As it did, a wail broke from Emrysa. A guttural howl grating on bone and sinew. She staggered from hands and knees, swaying when she finally stood. Merlin grabbed her when she stumbled, supporting her as she tried to gather strength. But watching the beast wail and thrash, she wondered if she would ever know true strength again.
“Freeze the damned thing!” Nimue screamed, and without waiting, she cast her spell of ice that clung to the beast’s body, immobilizing it as it hung in the space above their heads. “It will at least give us time to work out what to do.”
Nimue scowled at Emrysa, but Emrysa had neither fight nor care to rise to her bait.
Beneath the beast frozen above their heads in mid-flight, the witches stared with a mixture of awe and revulsion. Merlin’s eyes followed the contours of its body, spellbound by its beauty, its regality that had emanated from Emrysa since the first time he had set eyes on her. Dermot watched on with a mixture of pity and concern, his eyes dancing back and forth from beast to sibling. Nimue watched with glee, and something else not easy to discern.
Emrysa simply watched with tear stained cheeks and gasping breath. The dragon’s eye suddenly rolled, ice dripping like tears. It focused on Emrysa and whimpered a mournful song once more.
“It won’t work long, look,” said Nimue, pointing.
The ice continued to melt, sizzling upon hot scales before dripping to the ground.
One more second and it was on the move again, this time heading straight toward Emrysa. The impact smashed into her chest, sending her flying to crash on her back at the far side of the chamber.
“Emrysa!” Dermot yelled, watching as the beast pushed helplessly against his sister.
“It’s trying to get back into her body,” Merlin yelled, his tone laced with sadness and pity.
It’s trying to get back into my heart, Emrysa thought, feeling the loss, needing to feel the dragon back inside as much as it wished to return.
But it was impossible, the spell had banished it from its host’s body, and so it pounded against her, its ghost-like form finding purchase each time. Emrysa yelled out with pain and heartbreak with each fail. She heard her own ribs crack with the dragon’s force. But her howl came from a deeper place than physical pain, a darker place. A place of hopelessness.
Like a poem half formed, Emrysa tried to pull at a spell, to find the right words, the right sentiment, the right belief to reverse the soul spell. To imbue the dragon spirit once more. I would rather live a short life whole than a whole life empty, she thought wistfully. Nearly there, she could feel the forming of the right words on her tongue.
A sonic boom erupted from the chamber. But it didn’t come from her spell. It came from somewhere else. It came from... Dermot.
He held one hand aloft palm flat out ahead of him. His other hand circled with a gathering speed. And from his hand, a darkness came. An emptiness. A hole. A place between time and space, spiraling with stars and nebula, moons and comets.
It was truly mesmerizing.
The dragon spirit must have thought so too, as it turned tail, and charged toward the portal.
10
Smoke and Stars
“No, no, no!” Emrysa screamed as the dragon sailed through.
She felt the separation growing, the loneliness intensifying. She needed her spirit back, she needed to feel her heart pound with the rhythmical roar she had never been aware of until its loss. In fear, she found her strength and darted after the beast.
“Emrysa, no!” Dermot yelled, grabbing her hand and pulling her back. “I have no idea where this portal leads. You can’t just go in! We might not ever get you back.”
“I don’t care,” Emrysa cried. “I need to get it back. I have to reverse the spell.”
“You stupid girl,” Nimue scowled. “You a
chieve this amazing feat—ensured your safety, changed the course of the dragon heart slaying for future generations—and you want to go and reverse the spell?”
Emrysa turned to the pale witch, her dark eyes full of sadness. When she spoke, her tone was tinged with tragedy. “I can’t be without it.” She turned to the portal whirling glittering smoke and stars. Hypnotized, she walked toward it.
“Shut the thing down!” Nimue yelled to Dermot. But his face was red, his hands shook, his veins pulsed at his temples.
“I cannot!” Dermot yelled back. Yet closer Emrysa walked. “I cannot stop it. It will not leave my hands. It’s pulling at my life force. If I stop, I fear it will take me with it.”
Emrysa wished to run, to charge through after her dragon soul but the spell had rendered her weak. Each step felt mired in quicksand.
Nimue raised her hands, casting them to Dermot; pale lilac crackled toward him. “I’ll try to sever the bond. Merlin, for the Goddess’s sake, do something! Don’t let her go in.”
But Merlin was frozen to the spot, watching through shock or something else.
“It’s working!” Dermot called, feeling the connection falter. “The portal is going to close.”
But his celebration was short lived... Emrysa had stepped one foot closer to the portal. She knew she was close. She knew she was almost there as long as...
“Wait!” Merlin yelled, breaking suddenly from his reverie. He raced to Emrysa as she took her first step through. He dove, grabbing for her hand. Their fingers touched. She turned, her face etched with sorrow. “Emrysa, wait. We can work this out.”
But she shook her head, mouthed sorry, and disappeared into the darkness.
11
The Forest Black
There was a chaotic whirling of space and time. Stars imploding, comets racing. Worlds forming. Then, nothing. Just the sound of blood pumping through veins, and the shoreline sound of breath leaving lungs.
Raven Heart Page 4
