by Emma Hamm
That didn’t mean it would be easy.
Jasper pressed his spine against the stone statue, covering his head as shards of rock flew past him. Mercy stood on a platform with Phoenix wings stretched out behind her. The city would fall.
Lydia could not save it, or the people who lived there.
The heart in her body thumped and struck out against her ribs. It wanted to fly. It wanted to still, to find the peace it so desired. She would not die today.
“Jasper,” she called. Lydia pressed her hands against his shoulders, letting the white light of her power bathe him. Its cool touch could calm and heal. “Jasper, can you hear me?”
“Who are you?”
Tears blurred her vision. This was the first time he had ever spoken directly to her. The joy she felt was almost painful. He did not see her, could not know who was touching him, but he still spoke to her.
She smiled and the armor of her magic grew stronger. “I am your shield. Go to her, and I will hold the magic at bay.”
Jasper searched for her, his eyes lingering in the shadows, and stood. He could not feel her, Lydia was certain of that. But she still reached out and slipped her hand made of light into his.
Fire slashed and brimstone boiled at their feet. Lydia turned to the Phoenix with determination, her magic pushing back at the fire. She would be Jasper’s shelter, his protector, his steadfast companion because he needed her.
“I’ll get us there,” she whispered to herself as she poured all her magic into keeping him safe. “I will do this for you, Jasper. You’re going to live.”
She wished she could say the same for herself.
Step by step, they made their way to the podium. Lydia took each step as he did. She pushed at the magic and elemental forces Mercy wielded and felt her body breaking down with each powerful blow.
They made it to Mercy’s side, and Jasper pulled her into his arms. He whispered in her ear. His hands tracking across her body for all the wounds which had been inflicted.
The Phoenix and his host did not respond.
“Even a Phoenix can only do so many dark things before turning dark itself,” Lydia said.
“She’s killing everyone isn’t she?”
Lydia sent out her magic, tiny sparks of white light dancing through the city before swooping back to her. “She is. But it is not too late for her yet. Wake her up, Jasper. And when she is ready…” Lydia’s voice cracked. “Bring her to me.”
They deserved privacy, but Lydia could not drag herself away from them just yet. Together, they created a perfect portrait of loss and love. She was broken, and he was so determined to put her back together.
She watched the scene devolve, saw Malachi on his steed of stone and how he stole the unicorn horn from underneath Jasper’s nose. The man was smart. She could admit that. But intelligence did not mean he was unbeatable.
Flesh and bone called to her, whispering tantalizing words and promises in Pitch’s voice. She wasn’t done yet. Malachi was planning something, and she wanted to know what it was. The Future was available to her, but the Present flowed through her veins like poison.
Passing through the threads, she followed Malachi as he teleported to his base. The luxury of his home spiked her anger. There were so many of his followers living in poverty, and he still lived like this? Why did they follow him?
The white light of her magic passed over his bookshelves, shifting the skeleton of a Fairy she wasn’t certain how he had obtained. They hadn’t brought anything with them from the old dimension. Although, Pitch had brought her. Maybe others had found a way as well.
“Take this and put it somewhere safe.” Malachi’s voice cut through the air like a knife. He passed off the horn, holding it carelessly and tossing it into the air. “I trust there is no need to explain what I’ll do if you lose this?”
The Troll bowed multiple times as it backed out of the room. It cradled the Unicorn horn in its palms respectfully.
That was how one should touch such a magical object. Malachi did not care for the Unicorn or the magic, and that made her hate him all the more. If he was going to kill people, he could at least appreciate the lives he took.
His long braid swayed as he walked to his desk. He poured a glass of whiskey for himself, swirling the amber liquid in the light.
“I know you’re here,” he said as the door closed. “I do not know why you are hiding.”
Lydia sucked her power together. It contained her glow into the shape of a body, her intention to not touch whatever magical object he used to find her.
It backfired.
Malachi turned and skated his eyes over her form. “Ah, there you are.”
He shouldn’t have been able to see her. She wasn’t really there and Lydia had always been an observer in the timelines. The Present was obviously different.
“You don’t have to be shy. I can’t see who you are, but that doesn’t mean we cannot speak,” Malachi gestured with his glass. “I have many powerful creatures seek out my assistance. For you, I will provide any help you want without cost.”
“I doubt that.”
He stilled. The glass in his hand creaked as he clenched his fist. “You.”
“You recognize my voice?”
“I would never forget it. You took something from me.”
“Did I?”
“You did,” he growled. “But I cannot remember what it is.”
Another unexpected finding. The entire point of following Malachi had been to uncover his secrets, but Lydia had not expected these. He was more powerful than she gave him credit for. Or perhaps, he was ingesting more powerful creatures than she expected him to kidnap.
“What do you remember?” she tentatively asked.
“Your voice. Like a lullaby and the sound of the ocean rocking me to sleep. Except I didn’t want to sleep, and you were taking something precious. You violated my mind, little girl, and I’m going to take back what you stole.”
Lydia would like to see him try. Removing him from this plane would certainly make her job easier, and she was almost in the mood to do it. Her vision narrowed and focused on him.
“You must be a very brave man to threaten me.”
“Haven’t you heard what I can do?”
“Voids do not frighten me.”
“They should.”
He lunged toward her, hands outstretched to plunge into her chest. He passed straight through her and fell against the bookshelf with a bang.
“What?” His outraged shout echoed around them. His chest heaved with anger as he glared at her. “How is that possible?”
“I took your memory once, Void, I will do it again. Do not test me.”
Malachi jumped at her again, but Lydia was tired of his foolishness. Her power lashed out and pressed against his shoulders. He fell onto his knees before her.
“You will bow to me,” her voice rang with magic. “Your place is on your knees.”
He glared up at her and laughed. “Now I can see you. Your light is dimming and revealing your true face. A woman made of moths, how interesting.”
Lydia dipped into his mind to see herself through his eyes.
Light magic whipped around her like banners in the wind. Moths crawled all over her body, hiding her true face from him. Glimmering light would have blinded weaker men, but Malachi was more powerful than she anticipated.
A moth crawled over her mouth and a string of golden thread waved in front of her face.
“There cannot be many creatures who have your affinity for winged insects,” he muttered. “I will find you, and when I do, I will destroy you. I will devour your soul and you will beg for mercy.”
He spat at her. The liquid traveled through her form and splattered over his expensive rug.
“You have not learned humility. I will teach it to you someday.”
She left the luxurious room and Malachi to his own defenses. Her eyes snapped open as her mouth gaped into a silent scream.
Electricity arc
ed from her chest to her fingertips. Her body shook uncontrollably, contorting into positions that were at once painful and debilitating. Drawing in one final aching breath, she fell limp onto the floor.
Dark eyes stared down at her. Pitch’s hands pressed firmly between her breasts. “Are you back?”
“I think so.”
“You died.”
She met his gaze, saw the horror in his eyes. “I guess I did.”
“I brought you back.”
“You did.”
He lunged forward, dragging her into his arms and pressing her so close she could feel his heart beating against hers. He rocked her back and forth, whispering against her hair, “I thought I lost you, was certain I lost you. I can’t bear it. You cannot die, Lydia.”
Weak, she dragged her hands through the heavy air and stroked his head. “I don’t want to go. I would never want to go.”
“You are everything. My light, my darkness, good and evil, right and wrong.”
“I’m not going to be here forever, Pitch. I stopped Malachi, Mercy is alive. The rest is up to them.”
“I don’t care,” he whispered against her throat. “I couldn’t care less that they are alive.”
“That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? We’re keeping them alive?”
“Not if it takes your life.” He pulled back, his expression fierce and his hands clutching her jaw. “You stay with me. If that means the world ends, then so be it. I will not lose you again!”
Breath shuddered from her lips. The magic burning inside her swelled, rising like a wave and tasting of crisp salty air. It bubbled down her fingertips to heal every ache and wound.
Her nails lengthened into gold tipped claws. Skin sparkling like diamonds, she reached up to pull him down into her arms.
“I would never choose to leave you.”
“You almost did.”
“Never again,” she whispered. And she meant it. There was no choice between him and the world. They could create a new world, but she would never find another shadow hiding stardust inside it.
She sighed as his hands traced the outline of her body. His fingers swirled in patterns that were suspiciously close to words as his lips met hers.
He tasted like bleeding raspberries, metallic and sweet. A bitter ambrosia with a bite of poison. Her dress rose over her knee.
Emotions danced through her head, jubilation, love, exhilaration, but what she felt more than anything else was liberation. No matter how many times she had him, he would always make her feel freedom as if for the first time.
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. “More than life itself.”
“You are the flowers on my grave, the shaking omen of a time untold, the heartbeat of my body and the song of my soul.”
Smoke curled between his lips and dripped from his nose. Lydia leaned up. She inhaled the emotions overflowing from his mind and licked the Juice from his chin.
Love, in its purest form.
She bit her lip, caught his hands in hers, and pressed them against her heart. “No more nightmares. No more monsters in the dark. I want tonight to be you and I, Pitch. No other.”
“I could deny you nothing.”
He gathered her into his arms, stood, and strode toward their room. Shadows tickled her shoulders, smoothing her hair back and whispering down her body as he still checked her health.
“I’m fine,” she assured him.
“You just died.”
“Only for a few seconds, and you saved me. My magic healed me the rest of the way.”
“Why didn’t it stop you from dying then?”
Lydia wasn’t certain. She had wondered the same thing. Perhaps it didn’t need her to be alive. Perhaps it didn’t care because her job was over.
She didn’t think either was true.
“I don’t want to think about that tonight.” She placed her hand on the back of his neck and dragged his lips to hers. I want you, and only you.”
He shoved the door to his bedroom open and slammed it shut on the world and their worries. They spent the night reveling in the feeling of each other’s skin, reminding themselves that, for now, they were both alive. Pitch stopped time multiple times, prolonging their time together. They lived a lifetime in a second so they would never, ever, forget.
Lydia sat in front of her mirror counting each stroke of her brush. The repetition soothed the nerves fluttering in her belly. She could use all the help she could get today.
Pitch had been gone for a few days. He wanted to check in on all his people. Their lives were busy and he no longer had time to run the Juice business. Thankfully, Louis had a son who was all too happy to step in. Liam was a quick witted boy who spoke in numbers rather than words. He was a perfect choice.
In Pitch’s absence, Lydia had been left to her own devices. The longer she lived, the more she realized that was a bad thing. Her mind wandered when she was alone. She understood why Pitch battled with himself so much.
The Present sang to her. It called out in siren songs that lured her into the lives of those she loved. Lydia found it strange how much she loved them. She’d never even met them before, but those who were attached to her self made prophecy were like her children. She had always seen what their choices would be, and how they might affect them, but she had never dived into watching their lives in real time.
Temptation was a difficult affliction to bare. She sighed, mid stroke, and let her mind wander.
They were all in a cabin at the edge of the woods. Fitting, as they were all realizing just how close to their magical roots they needed to be. Mercy’s family, the creatures who were no longer human, had set up camp nearby.
She walked through their tents, smiling as the Giant lifted a young Gryphon into the air. It would learn to fly easier that way. A little wind under its wings would help breed the adventure that Gryphons naturally desired.
A Hippocamp snorted, its large tail rooting in the ground where a spring had sprung up from the ground. It would create a pool for itself to wallow in while the others figured out their plan.
Lydia purposefully kept her mind in the Present. She didn’t want to know what would befall these beautiful creatures. Her heart swelled at the sight of them. Their beauty was overwhelming, their magic pure and untainted.
Flexing her power, she launched into the air. Her golden light melded with the sun and rained down upon them in glittering sparks. Wings made of magic and love lifted her into the air as exhilaration exploded from her in bubbling laughter.
She was free. She was with them. Of all the things she had thought to experience today, Lydia had never guessed this. After all this time, she was finally here.
A hot draft of wind pushed her downwards, but she refused. Everything laid out like a dollhouse underneath her. The log cabin house with its green shingles. The tent site with ant-like men and women carried wood and food. Even a garden where bubbling water streamed down into the forest.
“I do not recognize you,” a deep voice said. “And I did not think there were any creatures capable of light magic and flight here.”
Lydia glanced up. Fire covered the sky above her, arching out in individual feathers that ruffled with the wind.
“Ignes,” she said. “It is good to finally meet you.”
“You know my name?”
“I know all of your names.” She looked down again. “I have known all of you since the beginning.”
“The taste of your magic is familiar. Like a song I heard in a dream, long ago.”
“Not so long ago. Although the passage of Time frequently escapes me these days.”
“The white light,” he murmured. “You were the bells that rang through my pain and torment.”
“One and the same.”
A flash of bright purple hair caught her eye. Wren walked out of the cabin, carefully closing the door and sneaking to the railing. There was a man leaning against it although Lydia was too high to see who it was. Wren jumped out, wrapped h
er arms around his neck, and laughter echoed all the way up to Ignes and Lydia.
“They’re happy,” she said.
“They’re surviving. Happiness is a state of mind, even though evil hunts them.”
“How? How do they stay so positive?”
She felt Ignes’s wings beat against her back, the sway of his magic warm and comforting. “They just do. It’s a requirement of life, to be happy. Otherwise, what is the point of living?”
“I suppose you’re right.” Her heart beat fast. They were happy. They were living their lives to fullest no matter that the world was falling down around them.
She had succeeded. If they were happy, if they were living, then she had done something right. There were good memories for them to relive over and over. The worst had yet to come, but they had experienced happiness.
“Is it some great secret what you are?” Ignes drifted below her, its Phoenix eyes squinting. “I have never seen something like you before.”
“It’s a well-kept secret.”
“Will you tell me?”
“No.”
“Why not? I can keep a secret, I promise.”
“You will find out soon,” she said impulsively. “I have to make a few plans, but I promise that you will know very soon.”
“But then it’s not a secret if you’re going to tell all of us.”
Lydia swore there was a pout marring his birdlike features. She grinned at him, and a few moths made of golden magic flew out of her mouth. “Wouldn’t it be more entertaining to see everyone shocked?”
“It’s more entertaining if I knew before them and I get to be smug while they're shocked.”
He had a point. If she was in his position, Lydia would likely have wanted to know the same. Curiosity had always been Ignes’s greatest strength, she remembered that from sneaking a peek at Mercy in her prison.
She expanded, wrapping him in her embrace. “Don’t tell anyone that a Goddess has been watching over them since the beginning.”
“You aren’t one of the Five.”
“No, I’m not. And I’m not one of the dark Five either.”
