by Brea Viragh
Her voice was lyrical somehow and held the hint of an accent Morgan could not quite place. Large eyes, small nose, and square chin completed the face. A tall and willowy angel with delicate hands and a pale complexion.
Too bad she was completely mad.
Morgan didn’t focus on her fairness, knowing there was more brewing beneath the surface than met the eye. He glanced over to Vane. The other man kept his unwavering gaze focused on the crazed woman. There was sadness beneath the stoic façade. More than a bit of regret.
Morgan wanted to do something. To push her aside and investigate what lay behind. Sure she was hiding something. “Where is she? Where are you keeping her?”
“Oh, are you looking for this?” The woman snapped her fingers and a ball of sun-bright light appeared. It hovered above her open palm, quivering slightly. “It’s less than half the size it was when we first began this venture, you know. This is the last bit left.” She tickled the sides of the ball until it shied away from the touch. “Almost gone, too.”
“You let go of her.” Morgan knew exactly what she held in her hand. A soul, a witch’s soul. He clenched his teeth, jaw flexing in determination. The pain in his chest swelled. “I said, let her go. I won’t tell you again.”
“Why would I?” the woman asked innocently. She tossed the soul high into the air and caught it deftly in one palm. “We’ve been having so much fun, she and I.”
“Cecilia, enough.” Morgan whirled around to see Vane stepping forward. “You’ve had your fun. It’s time to let the girl go. This isn’t her fight.”
It seemed only then the woman recognized his presence. Her eyes latched onto him as she wrenched her head around. Unbearably sad. “Vane.”
Her one word held the pain and hope of the world.
Morgan tensed, not trusting what he heard. No doubt she was playing the game hoping to gain the one thing she sought: the utter control of Karsia’s soul and her own freedom.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Vane continued. “You need to let her soul go and be gone from this place.”
“No. I refuse. Don’t you see?” She gestured and tightened her hold on the soul. “The instant the light dies, she takes my place and I am free. Free, Vane. Free to be with you.”
Cecilia took a halting step forward before Vane held up a hand to stop her.
“Hold. We have a part to play in this. And yours does not involve subjecting this girl’s soul to the horrors waiting ahead. She did not choose.”
“She did!” Cecilia insisted. “She stepped in front of my blast when I set out to claim her sister. That is a choice.”
“You are stretching the word beyond its limits, my dear.”
Suddenly she smiled, as if changing tactics. “It is so good to see your face.” Cecilia moistened her lips. “To really see it. Vane…”
Morgan watched the woman flex, drawing attention to certain parts of her body in what looked innocent but was probably intentional. Had he not been on guard he may have accepted what she said for truth. Or even felt sorry for her. Fortunately, he wasn’t stupid enough to trust her. She wasn’t fooling him.
But this was between Vane and Cecilia. Panic constricted his chest. He had no part in this and no idea what to do now.
“Do you know how long it’s been?” she asked, her voice full of longing.
“Yes, love. I do know. I’ve counted the days until we can be together again.” Vane shook his head, his sorrow palpable. “But not like this. Never like this.”
“Why not? This is a gift, Vane. A gift so that we may be reunited.” Her voice was sweet, compelling.
He would not be moved. Vane shook his head again. “We are the ones who hold the balance in check.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
Her tone had risen sharply, and several winged creatures took flight from the haven of the tree branches. An answering howl sounded in the distance. Cecilia panted, energy spiking.
“It is not our place to decide who to damn,” Vane said softly. “The veil must stand, yes, but it’s not up to you to choose for another.”
“I know that better than anyone! I had my choice taken away, remember, and for what? For a group of people doomed to die anyway? I lost you, lost our life together. Our baby.” Her voice broke as she clutched at her empty womb. “Vane, our baby.”
He stood firm even as sorrow gripped him with tainted claws. “And the soul you hold in your hand is someone else’s baby. It’s time to give her up, Cecilia. We will find another way. I swear it to you.”
Tears sprang to life at the corners of her eyes. “No.” She shook her head. “No. Not when I’m so close.”
“Let her soul go free.”
“I can’t. I won’t.”
Morgan nearly jumped forward when the woman began to squeeze. The diminishing light of Karsia’s soul shivered and grew dim. He took an involuntary step before Vane reached across and clapped him on the shoulder.
Cecilia continued the manic shaking of her head while Vane spoke to her, keeping his voice low and calm. “You must. Listen to me. Please. You can never be free if you do this.”
Mad light shone behind her eyes. She suddenly crouched low and brought the soul close to her chest, rocking on the balls of her feet. “I don’t believe you.”
Vane responded with a breath of wind. It caressed Cecilia, billowing her gown and bringing the soul ball back out into the open. Cecilia lifted her face to the breeze, welcoming it like a lover, a keening sound beginning in the back of her throat.
The abnormal night hummed around them, tensed, on the verge of a tipping point. The breeze ceased, and Cecilia glanced up, as if recollecting herself. She stared from her empty palm to Vane and back again. “Where did—”
“You need to let her go,” Vane reiterated. He held the soul ball in his own palm now. Under his light ministrations, a pale echo of Karsia’s face formed and blossomed. It hovered inside the ball, her mouth open in a silent plea.
Morgan let out a strangled breath and tried to reach for her, but once more felt the hand tighten on his shoulder. There were still game pieces in play.
“She’s mine. Mine.” Cecilia snatched at the ghostly figure, but Vane evaded. “I’ve worked hard for this. You can’t force me to turn back now.”
“She is your blood. The daughter of a son of a son…back to our son. You would hurt your own?”
“It’s the only way! Why can’t you see?” Cecilia suddenly began to scratch viciously at her scalp. “Vane, get out of my head.”
“She’s insane,” Morgan muttered under his breath.
“Keep out of this, half-god,” Vane replied, shooting him a quelling look. “This is between her and me.”
“Karsia is almost dead!”
Vane returned his attention to Cecilia. “Cecilia, hush. It does no good to torment yourself. I told you we would find a way, and we will. If it takes a thousand more years…I will get you back.”
He held his free arm out, hand and fingers stretching until they reached their limit. She mimicked the action, stretching her own arm and hand and fingers out to his. Energy crackled between them as the distance shrank. Great lancing sparks of red and gold emanated from the tiny space left between them. They were like magnets, attracting and repelling at the same time.
Morgan read their sad story in that moment. Two lovers destined to revolve around each other eternally. Drawn to be together but never touching and forever apart. One could not exist without the other yet they would never again be able to live together.
“Vane!” Cecilia cried out.
He retracted his arm and the sparks ceased. “I’m here.”
“Let me have her and we can be together again. Don’t you want us to be together?”
“More than anything, my love.”
“More than one piddling soul?” Cecilia shook her fist toward the soul ball. “Would you put her before me?” A gleaming spear of obsidian materialized in her open palm, gripped tightly and held aloft, its end barbe
d and pointed. “Before me, Vane?”
“Cecilia…” Vane stared at the spear. “None of this is getting through to you, is it?”
“Before me, Vane!” Cecilia repeated roughly. Moonlight glinted off the sharp edge of the dream blade.
Before Vane could react, she reached out her free hand and snatched the soul ball from his palm. She brought the black spear to within inches of it, as if daring him to intervene.
“Do something,” Morgan whispered fiercely from the corner of his mouth. “You told me to stay out of this, but if she attacks Karsia, I will end her. Damn the consequences.” He didn’t know how. He wasn’t sure if anything he threw at her would work. All he knew was he was determined to try.
Vane nodded once before turning back to Cecilia. “If you won’t reconsider, then I will be forced to take drastic measures to ensure no harm comes to that girl.”
“What will you do?” She clutched the spear tighter, smiling wide until her cheeks threatened to crack. The tip of the light hung a hairsbreadth from the vague image of Karsia’s face in the ball, but she had no energy to fight, only to shrink from it. “What will you do?”
“Please, Ceci.” He tried once more. “Don’t force my hand. You know what will happen.” To make his point, he held his arms in front of him, palms inches apart, and waited.
She spared a single look at Karsia’s soul ball and then lifted her arm for the plunge. “Do it, then.” Her arm began its deadly descent.
“No!” Morgan shot forward, wings outstretched, to halt the downward momentum. Desperately hoping he would be in time. Vane brought his palms together with a booming clap and the world exploded in an instant.
Blinding white light emanated out from them, so bright Morgan swooped to the ground to shield his eyes before he realized what he’d done, his knees sinking into the mud as he ducked. Heat prickled along his skin as if the very air was burning.
Before he had a chance to process the sheer magnitude of the power Vane had unleashed, an agonized scream sounded, followed by a harsh command.
“Now, Morpheus!”
Morgan flicked his wings and shot into the sky. Abruptly changing his angle, he dove back toward the ground, with his horns pointed at the spot where Cecilia stood. Air whipped around him, faster and faster, until the tips of his horns burned from friction, coming to a halt only when they had buried into her flesh.
The screeching stopped abruptly. Temporarily. He used the interruption to grasp the flickering soul from her and cradle it to his chest.
Vane rushed forward, energy crackling around him. The ground rolled and fought against their nearness. Cecilia struggled to rise as her arm reached forward. Her face twisted in a snarl.
Morgan didn’t wait for a second chance and doubted he’d get one. Using every ounce of strength he had left, he hurtled toward consciousness, the tiny piece of what was left of Karsia sputtering and threatening to go out.
“Hold on, hold on.” Morgan pushed himself to his limits in an attempt to put distance between them. “Please, hold on. We’re almost there.”
He spared a look over his shoulder, good and evil locked together in an ageless dance. Forked lightning spiked and the great tree burst into flame. Fire raced along each tangled leaf, igniting everything it touched. Around them, the bayou shifted. Black water raced in and the two immortals prepared for the end.
Though it would be a fight for the ages—something he would most likely regret not witnessing and documenting—he flew on until his wings ached, and knew that no matter the victor, they would both go down.
CHAPTER 22
Astix and Aisanna clenched their hands tighter with every passing second. Each sister tried, in her own way, not to think of what was at stake. Not to focus on the possibility of failure. Fought to read the shifting words on the page of their spell book and believe what they did would make a difference.
“Bound for love and not for woe. Threads of life to steal from night, magic bright and give to light,” they called in unison. “Gods above please hear this plea. As it is willed, so must it be.”
They finished the spell together, both voices fighting to be heard. Astix felt a familiar stirring of power, something inside of herself, an integral piece of her chemical and spiritual makeup. She closed her eyes, inhaled, and released it.
Please, let this work. Her last thought as they unleashed the ancient magic of their lineage. Please!
Silver sparks burst to life in a circle around their youngest sister. Astix could make out only the vaguest outline of Karsia, watching the gemstone heart in her hand dissolve. Her next breath ended in a scream when the rest of Karsia’s body crumbled. “No!”
“Astix, don’t!”
Blackness turned each inch of supple skin to ash, burning and eating along the lines of her form until nothing remained. The charred skeleton poised in the air for a moment before disintegrating to the cavern floor in a pile of detritus.
Astix continued to scream, allowing Aisanna to pull her to the ground. Their hands slapped the ancient stone in unison and a great resounding boom filled the cavern. A harsh whine rose from the pillars of stone and hairline fissures raced across their surface, a second blast rocking them.
“What the hell is happening?” she screeched.
Aisanna used her body to shield them both from the blinding light. “Close your eyes!”
Astix did, still able to see the glow from behind closed lids. She pressed her forehead to cold limestone and prayed. Prayed that whatever they unleashed would work. The image of her sister’s destroyed form played on a loop in her mind. “No, no,” she moaned.
Light filled every cranny of the cave with the brightness and force of an atom bomb, deadlier for its silence.
She glanced up—nearly blinded—in time to see the fabric of their reality tear. A great rendering in space, filling the cavern with the sound of shredded fabric.
Aisanna scrambled back from the hole, bringing Astix with her.
A foot appeared from the other side.
In an instant, Morgan burst through the gap, his wings scraping the floor. He scrambled across the barrier. The hole closed immediately behind him. Silence filled the space, hanging heavy.
Astix may have said his name. His ears rang like the tolling of a bell and he watched through the buzz as she bolted to her feet, catching sight of the small, damaged body held in those great arms.
She ignored the horns shrinking back into his head. Made no mention of the alabaster feathers rapidly decreasing in size until only a man stood before her. Sound returned in a blast.
“Morgan!”
He dropped to his knees.
“What happened? Oh my God, are you okay? Is she all right?” Aisanna took hold of Karsia and drew her out into the open. Human lips, skin unchanged by fire, the slow uneasy beat of a heart.
“I got her out.” Morgan felt saliva drip from his lips and brought his sleeve up in time to wipe it away.
Aisanna glanced up sharply. “Did you see Cecilia?”
Morgan nodded his head and the motion sent him crumpling to his side, knocking his elbow in the process. “Karsia is not dead. Yet.”
“Rest,” Aisanna said. “You’re no good to us like this.”
“The man deserves a frickin’ thank you, not orders for bed rest,” Astix snapped.
Together, they rolled their little sister onto her back and watched for the rise and fall of her chest. Saw nothing.
Aisanna immediately drew whatever magic she had left and focused her healing power on the girl. “Come on,” she ground out. Her palms rubbed together and a green aura flared around her wrists. She drew strength from the oak, the acorn—Nordic emblems symbolizing life and vitality. Adder’s tongue and amaranth and angelica she used for healing. Bittersweet and bloodroot and cedar.
“Astix. I need you.”
“I don’t know…what I can do,” Astix murmured.
“Let me.” Morgan shuffled forward and placed both hands on the sides of Karsia’
s head. “I’ll never give up.” He shot them a tired grin and added his magic to theirs. Seconds ticked by into minutes, first a few and then several. There was no change, though Morgan pushed down the worry. If Karsia insisted on falling into the void, then he would follow and bring her back kicking and screaming if necessary. “Karsia? Speak to me.”
To his surprise, a set of garbled groans answered him.
“Please wake up,” he continued. He pushed her hair away from damp cheeks. “I need you. I need you more than anything else in this world. More than air, more than life. I am nothing without you, Karsia.” He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
Astix put her hands against his and he felt his skin warm. Her strength poured in through his nerves, into his blood. Morgan drew in a breath and felt light flood his body.
“Yes. That’s it, girls.”
He waited another few seconds, his heart stuttering when Karsia’s eyelashes opened. Lips parted and a breath of stale air escaped her lungs.
“You don’t need to say anything.” Morgan brushed the hair away from Karsia’s face with shaking fingers. “Take it slow.”
Astix and Aisanna were nearly in tears. Stunned, they sat back on their haunches, staring. Thankful.
Karsia gave her arms a testing push and pull. “I heal fast. It’s…part of the witchy family package.” She swallowed, her hand snaking out to find his. “How did you find me?”
It was a whisper, the softest murmur of sound, but it was enough to flood him with happiness.
“I don’t know. A bond. Something based purely on emotion, a connection between my heart and yours that has nothing to do with dark or light, or power or magic. I would find you anywhere, anytime.” He brought her fingers to his lips.
“I will remember.”
She cried out when he grabbed her, crushing her to his chest. Gone was the scent of rotting meat, the underlying tones of death and decay. In its place was a sweetness he could not put his finger on, though he thanked the gods for it.
“I would love for us to have a touching moment here, and not to be the voice of reason or anything, but this place might come down on us if we don’t move.” Aisanna peered up at the stalactites quivering from their aloft positions. “Let’s get to safety before we have our tender moment.”
