“You’re probably right,” she snorts as she brings her sleeve up to erase the last traces of her emotion. I smile. She grabs her backpack and heads for the door. She turns before she opens it. “I love you, Emma,” she says. She does not wait for me to respond. Instead she steals into the night. I stare at the door knowing she understands if I could feel love, I would love her—for everything she is and for everything she is not. Instead of my eyes, my heart glows.
I make my way outside when I notice Finn sitting by the fire. The circle is quiet—we are alone. He hears me approach and turns to smile. It is a wistful smile and my stomach flips as I remember Lana’s words. I take a seat next to him and train my eyes on his fire-lit profile.
“Thank you for everything,” I say because Finn has done as much as Lana to get me to this point.
“I’ve had the necklace for a while,” Finn says ignoring me as he looks down to the ground guiltily. “You were right, Emma. I figured that I could make you feel something. It just couldn’t be in the way that you were asking for.” He turns his head away, no doubt remembering my pleas for his naked body. “It had to be honest and real. I wanted it to stem from your past—it would be stronger that way. I wanted you to feel happiness, first. I saw it in your eyes when…” He pushes his brown hair out of his eyes, and exhales deeply.
I finish his sentence. “When you told me your heart was already mine,” I say. My hand automatically reaches for the red gemstone at my throat. His heart.
He swallows audibly. “Yes,” he says simply. “You are more important to me than anything else. You are worth far more to me than anything else. It’s why I need you to trust me.” Finn’s words are sweet, but there is an underlying sense of alarm. His jaw clenches as he waits for me to respond.
“Of course I trust you. I will always trust you.” I clasp his hand in mine. Contact unsettles him, but I think with his recent dose of darkling he may welcome it.
“No matter what happens. Trust that I always have your best interests at heart,” he says, his tone taking on an unfamiliar air. Because I have his heart, I think.
“Okay. You are scaring me. What is going to happen?” My happiness wanes as it yields to fear—no, physical dread. Finn clutches my hand tighter, something he never does.
“The dark witches knew you were here when they came looking for you the last time. I begged and they were lenient. They gave me a month, Emma. They saw it as a challenge. If you felt all six emotions in a month’s time, you would be free to live out your life here in the circle,” Finn says. Breaking our hands, he brings them up and runs them down his face. He looks like a man tortured as he locks his hands around the back of his head.
“What does that mean? I do not feel all six…what will happen?” I ask. My previous happiness is invisible, all but forgotten.
“It means the dark witches like to play games. They never turn down a challenge. It’s how they entertain themselves in their long, unfeeling lives. They like to play with our emotions to show us how they weaken us.” He brings his hands down and finally meets my gaze. “And they won.” His voice breaks.
“No…no.” I stand up. I sit back down. I know what this means—my other alternative. “My fate.” I swallow deeply and feel the horror pushing my heart at a frantic pace. Again, Finn puts his hands behind his head and looks up into the sky. It seems he is searching for something.
“It has been a month today,” he says. “I sent Lana away tonight so she wouldn’t get herself killed.” The truth in his words rings out causing equal parts despair and thankfulness. The dark witches are coming for me and Lana would die to protect me. I drop to my knees. We cannot win against the dark witches. It is over.
“What will they do to me?” I whisper. As I gaze into Finn’s warm brown eyes another emotion threatens. I am on the border of feeling everything. Finn flexes his fists that rest on his knees, but he does not respond. “I almost feel everything. I feel it. I want it, Finn. Can we leave? Let’s get away from here…I just need more time.” I throw myself into his arms.
Carefully he pulls me back and looks into my eyes. “Emma, a deal is a deal. I made a poor one stemming from the selfish need to be around you. I should have let them take you a month ago. It would have spared you the heartache.”
I shake my head unable to stomach the way of my future. Not after what I have learned and felt. I am shaking with fear, an uncontrollable reverberating that begins in my toes and shoots through my body.
“Please, Emma.” Finn puts emotion in my name when it passes his lips. It is praise and a question at the same time.
“I trust you,” I say. He presses his warm, parted lips onto the corner of my mouth. It is a kiss-but-not-really. I close my eyes and lean into him. The shaking ceases for a moment. All too soon he breaks the kiss and I open my eyes.
I feel the dark magic in the air and know they are here. My fate is here. A fate I do not want.
He unclasps my necklace and folds it into the palm of my hand. “Your emotions are in my heart,” Finn whispers.
He pushes me away from him and stands up. I try to approach, but he takes another forced step away from me.
“Finn, please,” I plead, but everything I want to say is forgotten when I see the haunting white glow of their eyes. Three male dark witches are headed for us, marching out of the forest. I watch them with detached dread. I will soon be like them, my life in the circle with Finn and Lana completely forgotten. I clench the necklace tightly in my hand.
“It looks as if you were unsuccessful, male darkling,” a dark witch intones robotically. I look at Finn and his face is proud even in this horrible moment. I want to know how they know I do not feel all six. I assume it is a magical ability to be able to determine such things.
“You win, she’s yours. We’ve enough mouths to feed around here anyways,” Finn says nonchalantly. My heart is crushing—tearing into two. The dark witches glower at me. It has been so long since my appearance causes scrutiny that I am uncomfortable with their curious stares. Finn pulls my backpack from behind the log we were sitting on. He hands it to me, careful not to touch my skin or meet my gaze as he does so.
“Finn,” I say. His eyebrows knit together. His lips close completely. I know a lie is coming.
“You’re lovely, but you will never mean anything to me. Goodbye, darkling,” Finn says.
Though I do not take his words for their intended meaning, they sting my soul all the same. I want to be positive in light of my fate because I think Finn might have a plan to help me. I remember the awful things Finn has said about the Dark Citadel and know I will be as good as trapped when I enter it. Fear grips me, anger ties me to this moment, and happiness is absent. As I walk away with the dark witches, I glance over my shoulder. Finn’s face is indifferent, but I see his perfect lips twitch, his fists jerk by his side. I will him to hear my thoughts.
I trust you.
We walk into nothingness and the witches speak as if I am not present.
“The male darkling made a wise choice,” one witch says.
“Handing her over was his only choice if he wanted her to live,” the other responds mechanically.
Finn has saved my life and taken it away at the same time.
Chapter Sixteen
July 18th, Morning
The Dark Citadel, The Enchanted Palace
The dark witches do not speak to me. They treat me as if I am unintelligent property. I soon understand that is exactly what they think I am. They blind me with magic, rendering me fully reliant on the guards that lead the way. The only thing that keeps my emotions from spinning wildly out of control is the fact that they have not been rough. Because I do not feel all six yet, my dark side is strong enough to allow me access to the Dark Citadel. I have heard them say we are going to the Enchanted Palace. I cannot stop my mind from conjuring the crystalline white castle from my book. I want to see it, yet an abhorrent feeling threatens because it will be the last thing I ever see. The final correction.
“I will drop the spell now, miss,” a small, high voice says. She releases my arm and I brace for something, tensing every muscle in my body. No sensations come. The fact she calls me miss strikes as odd. “You can open your eyes when you please,” the same girl says. I let my eyes flutter open.
We stand in a stark white hallway. It is a rich white that glistens, untainted by anything from nature. Holographic images I do not understand shimmer, barely translucent on the surface of the walls. My mouth hangs open in awe. I do not comprehend anything I see and I do not want to comprehend, I want to lose myself in the falsity of them. Because the second my blindness abates my emotions return. They cripple me all at once. The two weigh on me heavily and the absence of the cherished one forces me to inhale sharply as if stabbed in the chest. I was so close and now everything is gone.
The girl comes to stand in front of me, but I find it almost impossible to peel my gaze from the dancing images. They are beautiful, enchanting—they numb me.
“Are you hungry, miss?” she asks. When I do not answer she gently grabs my hand and leads me to the end of the hallway. When she stops in front of a door I finally look at her. Her clothing is unlike anything I have ever seen. She wears a floor length dress that looks as if it is spun from fine fabric in every color imaginable. Every time she moves it changes color. Like the holographs on the wall, she seems unreal. In this place I am unsure if I am real. When her glowing white eyes meet mine, I know this is my fate. Moments and facts I learned growing up click into place. I do not pretend otherwise.
“I am hungry,” I tell the girl. She looks at me warily, and then holds a door open for me to walk through first. The room is white and empty like the hallway, but the second I enter it begins transforming. My bed from home appears leaving swirling dark magic particles in the air. Next to form is my wooden desk. Lying on top of it is a scrap of reflective glass. I turn in a circle as other familiar pieces start materializing. The walls turn the same, familiar, warm taupe color of my mother’s kitchen.
“I will return with a meal, miss,” the girl says before vanishing into the hallway. I run my hand over the nightstand to make sure it is visceral. My entire past life rests between four walls. It is exactly how I remember it—how it appeared the night of my mother’s murder. At the hands of the very people who now give me everything I once had.
I jam my hand into my pocket and pull out my necklace. I think of Finn. I think of Lana. The magic in the room finally wanes. The last object to appear is a window—my window, from the circle.
I walk over to it and rest my forehead against the very real glass. I do not see outside the palace as I expect. I see Finn’s house.
But it is empty.
I am on the verge of another emotion, but I know that is forbidden here. They will want me to be empty, vacant…pliable. I wonder how long I will be able to hold on to my memories and myself. I wonder how long I will want to hold onto myself. Finn is right. It would have been easier not to feel anything at all. I would be able to embrace my fate with open arms. I would not be longing for anything or anyone.
When the girl returns she looks around my room curiously, studying my life on display. She sets the gilt tray on the wooden table. I watch as her black hair falls over her shoulders and her white eyes light my food. My stomach growls with desire.
“Thank you,” I tell the girl, remembering proper etiquette. Now that my room has formed and the swirling hallway is a thing of the past, I try to avoid looking at her dizzying dress. I fear I know not what reality truly is.
“You will get used to it,” the girl says settling into a seat at the other side of the table. I eat a meal so extravagant, I have never seen the likes. It is a far cry from the ground dwelling vegetables I am accustomed to. Flavors and scents I cannot even begin to describe shock my system. “It is a lot to take in at first, I am sure. The quicker you let your dark magic take over, the less dizzying the palace will become. Knowing what circle they found you in, I am sure you will enjoy life at the palace quickly.” Her voice is robotic. I nod my understanding and she tells me of the meats and sweet fruits I am eating. The large golden goblet contains a deep red juice that is equal parts sweet as it is tangy. It warms my stomach.
“I see why they continued looking for you for so long,” she says. I finish a bite of food and meet her calculating gaze.
“If I was the same as the others they would have left me be?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Yes. They forget about fated darklings all the time. Once darklings start feeling, they find it prudent to leave them to their life in the circles. The dark witches have better things to do with their time.” She tilts her head and squints her eyes. “You are feeling and the prince still wants you.”
As she says this I know she sees my blue eyes and blond hair, so unlike every other witch or darkling I have laid eyes on. I look at her empty eyes and feel repulsed.
“I wish they would have killed me instead,” I say, ignoring the fact she calls him a prince. It makes no difference the caste he comes from. A witch is a witch.
Her eyes widen in shock. She rises from my table uneasily and grabs the tray. She opens her mouth, and then shuts it. I want her to say something, anything comforting, but I know she will not. She is a dark witch, born of empty heart and nothingness.
“There is a shower in the bathroom, miss…and dresses in the closet.” She points to a large, round opening in the wall. The doorway is swathed in glittering fabric and was not there before. “If you need anything further I am to be your factotum. You may call me Zeda. Call if you need anything,” she finishes her mechanical speech. My stomach lurches, from either the rich foods or her unfeeling demeanor, or both. I feel anger. She has ignored my words so I say them again with more conviction.
“Thank you, Zeda.” I smile. Her lips press into a firm line. “Perhaps you did not hear me. I said I would rather die than be here.” I stalk toward her, willing my eyes to be as blue as the sky of the old world. “Because I would rather die with happiness than live blankly!” I yell. She scuttles back, obviously unused to emotion. “Tell my betrothed that.” I rub Finn’s heart between my fingers in my pocket.
“Tell him yourself, miss. He will be up to meet you this eve.” Zeda closes the door behind her as she leaves. My stomach full, I have no urge to shower or to look in the closet. I pull a dark wooden chair from my table and set it by my window.
I stare so long that my mind conjures Finn, even though I know he is not there. He is gone.
I will be gone too.
Chapter Seventeen
July 18th, Night
I see things in my enchanted room that I never noticed when they were in my reality. My wooden headboard has small figures etched into the wood. Small hearts and stars are painstakingly carved into the sides. I know my mother has done this for me. I run my fingers over the wood and smile, glad happiness has not left yet. I prepare for the worst as I wait to meet the witch that will bring my death. I remove the onyx pendant from my necklace and zip it into my backpack. The witches expect me to show my dark nature and the pendant quells it. I clasp the necklace with the red gemstone back on. Finn’s heart will not leave me.
I cannot bring myself to look in my pack for fear of emotion stemming. Finn has filled it and I am not ready to see what he has selected as my final items. The thought makes me scared. I tuck my bag gently under my bed, and then sit at my desk to gaze into the broken mirror. A strong emotion takes root in my core when I remember the night that I broke the same mirror into a million pieces. My life broke into a million pieces at the very same ti
me. Now, the mirror holds the image of a different woman. My blue eyes hold a small amount of silver. I am more human than dark. My blond hair is shining brightly under the glimmer of my room’s lights. It casts an unnatural brilliance on my things, my past, and myself.
I hear my door opening, a defining moment in my life. I shut my eyes and find my mother’s hug, Lana’s smile, and Finn’s laugh. I think of the circle. I remember my house. I picture the words of my book dancing through my mind. I say the words out loud because they now make sense. “Once upon a time,” I whisper, “there was a girl and she was happy.” I open my eyes as the dark witch from my unhappily ever after enters my world.
“Emmalina Weaver. You are far more beautiful than the others have admitted,” he says, his voice gravelly, his bright eyes trained on my body. I have not changed out of my clothes. I refuse to present myself as a gift to anyone, princes included.
I shuffle from one foot to the other, sizing him up. “And you are…just as I suspected you would be,” I say, intoning my words carefully. I do not wish to upset him nor give him reason to favor me. I want his indifference in this existence. He approaches me carefully and I cannot stop my heart from pounding against my chest in fear. It reminds me of when I could only feel fear. With my onyx gone I know it will not be long before I am vibrating with the dark magic they expect from me. I want to keep it down, to keep myself, but this place with magic ablaze calls to it.
I notice his fine clothing is made of the same rich materials Zeda wears. Deep, dark colors that complement his medium complexion…and his light blond hair. I gasp.
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