She needed more time. Wanted a few more moments in his arms. She held him as a drowning man would his last straw, no matter that it was destined to break in half. And when Raven wiped her tears and kissed her, a wracking sob broke out of her chest.
As through the mist she felt her father’s anger, her mother stopping him, saying something sounding a lot like “at least she cries.” She sensed worry from all around. Concern and confusion. She pretended it didn’t exist.
“Angel…”
For one fleeting second Amira pretended life was good.
“Could you say something?” Ciaran’s voice woke her up. “It’s annoying to see a man make a total fool of himself. If I shot him now, it would surely be a mercy kill.”
“Thanks,” Raven snorted, his eyes never leaving hers.
“You are welcome,” Ciaran returned with the same tone.
Amira managed a weak smile. “I never told you I—”
“No,” he interrupted her confession, shaking his head fiercely.
“I love you,” Amira said despite his objections.
“Don’t say goodbye to me. Not now!” he whispered, words barely audible, but the emotion behind it shook her to the core.
“You saved me how many times?” Amira wondered, not knowing why she was even bringing this up.
“After I put you in danger in the first place, you mean?”
“No one is perfect.” She laughed now, but there was no mirth and her laughter died instantly. “You can’t save me this time.” She didn’t want this impossible quest to cost him his life.
Amira was aware of Raven saying something to her, but her eyes drifted shut and for a moment everything stilled. She heard no whispers, no commands. Felt no pain, no love, no fear. Deep inside she knew she was leaving behind something important, something amazing and priceless, only she could not hold on to it anymore. She was no match for Nially’s power. She was being pulled away.
“No, no, no!” Raven yelled, trying to grab a tighter hold on her as she began disappearing into a mist in front of his very eyes. “Fight her, Angel,” he pleaded. I know you can. But she only glanced at him one more time and vanished.
Raven was left standing in utter shock in the midst of women crying, men gaping at him. He would have welcomed a bullet right about now. Without her, or his brother, Raven had no one. Her father had threatened to shoot him when they had met. Except now, he seemed to have lost interest. He was not sure, though. All he could hear was his own voice repeating you lost her, over and over again.
He had a hard time believing this was it—the last time he would see or hold her. He’d believed with all his heart that if he found her, talked to her, took her in his arms, she would stay. She hadn’t. And now, what was he to do?
“Think,” he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers desperate for a miracle. Instead, he was forced to face reality—no one knew what to do. And seeing her mother’s tears as she kept gripping her husband’s shirt was not helping. Her heartbreak was invading his mind, making any attempt at concentration impossible.
How did Amira do it? Raven couldn’t help but wonder. Standing so close to barely-controlled emotions was wreaking havoc with his senses. He had to get out of there if he wished to hear his own thoughts. But before he could take two steps, Eliana blocked his way out.
“What was the bargain?” Her question stupefied him.
“What does it matter now?” her husband echoed Raven’s thoughts.
“It does,” she insisted, “Besides, what else should I think about? About my baby I won’t ever see again?” she said, wiping her tears furiously.
“I was dead at the time, so how should I know the details?” Raven prayed for patience. “You should ask them.” He pointed at Ciaran and Logan with a slight tilt of his head. “Now, if you are not going to shoot me, step aside. ’Cause I’m going after her.”
“I don’t remember shooting you in your head,” Ciaran also stepped forward, and Raven had a distinct feeling he was hiding what really happened from his family that day. It wasn’t a coincidence that he all but admitted pulling the trigger.
“I don’t remember you shooting me at all,” Raven couldn’t help but utter. He realized Eliana was right. Thinking about losing Amira every second didn’t help.
“Maybe you remember a small detail, like why the mountains are called Impenetrable?” Ciaran rolled his eyes disbelievingly, only confirming Raven’s suspicions. But despite lying through his teeth, Ciaran was right. No mortal man could enter the sacred domain of the witches.
“And no horse is fast enough to carry aunt Eliana in time,” he seemed to follow Raven’s thoughts.
“True,” Raven nodded, ready to end this conversation. He needed silence, space to concentrate, distance himself from all the emotions swirling in the room.
“What were you not telling?” Ciaran caught up with him again when he stepped outside, leaving the crowd behind.
“I think I could still reach her in time,” Raven said, hoping he could.
“You are not joking, are you?” Amira’s brother suddenly got very serious.
“Do I appear to be?” His patience was holding on by a very tenuous thread he imagined would snap at any second. He needed to go, to find her, to save her. He needed to be with her. And these questions were not helping.
“You bring her back,” Ciaran whispered, approaching him quickly, “and I’ll owe you bigtime.”
“You already do.” Raven shook his head, took a deep, calming breath in and, thinking about his angel, followed her path.
Chapter 33
A deceitful hope grew wings the second he appeared in front of the Impenetrable Mountains, with a narrow passage beckoning him right before his very eyes. It’s wings stretched, just as his hand did when he stepped forward, but it never learned how to take flight.
The resistance he encountered was not solid like the barrier Amira could create. It was a thick fog wrapping itself around the mountains—but it was a barrier nevertheless. When he tried to cross the obstacle, the fog enveloped his body like quick sand restraining his movements. It swallowed him whole, refusing to let him through.
If he could just take one bloody step forward… “Let me in, God dammit!” he yelled with anger and frustration. His every muscle was so tense, something threatened to snap inside him. He grasped those vehement emotions as one would an anchor to sanity. Otherwise, he was afraid he would drown in fear. His and hers.
She was so close yet so unreachable, it seemed like an awful nightmare. He couldn’t believe he’d succeeded in making it all this way, just to fail at the last few steps. There were probably feet between them, but it could’ve just as easily been hundreds of miles, because he couldn’t reduce the distance by a single inch.
When he looked closer at the fog, he saw skeletons of men dead long ago. There was no meat on their bones, and still they stayed upright. The fog was like a web, he realized, and he was caught in it.
Raven tried not to succumb to despair of having to sense her fade away without being able to do anything. Her powers had been his last hope, the key to opening the doors of the forbidden domain. It had failed. And now he needed a miracle.
Unfortunately his miracle was a prisoner in her own body. Fading away every second. He could feel her fear growing, her weakening voice screaming in his head. He could feel time unmercifully running out, while the only thing he could do was stand there and die along with her.
I’ve been waiting for you, he heard a voice in his head.
“Who is there?” Raven had a suspicion that someone stood behind him, but since he was unable to turn, he couldn’t see who it was.
An answer came in a form of a feral howl.
Either he was hallucinating, or there was a wolf behind his back. And the animal was talking to him. Why not, he all but snorted. Next thing he knew, he would be talking with trees.
You want to get to her, or not?
“What do I do?” Raven asked immediately.
He was determined to try anything, though he truly couldn’t see another possibility right now. Her powers were the last hope. Take them away and what was left was simply a man—forbidden to enter, as his predicament showed.
Don’t sell yourself short, Raven heard the words, realizing that his thoughts were transparent to this being, or creature, or whoever or whatever it was.
“What are you talking about here?”
You’ll find out soon enough. I hope, he added as if not convinced himself. That wasn’t encouraging, Raven thought. But first, how to free yourself. For that, you’ll need blood.
Easier said than done, he gritted his teeth as he tried to reach his dagger. He had around ten inches to overcome, but it had taken him an hour to get his fingers wrapped around the handle. About three more to slice his palm. And all this time he fought against the dread of feeling her slowly fading away.
Good. Now touch the shyvaar beith with your bloodied palm and repeat after me: Shakor entar obive mot loaveru su shyvaar kattar.
“The what?” he asked, not understanding a word the being said, though his palm was already turning, as if instinctively knowing what to do.
The substance around you. Also called the Mist of the Dead.
When Raven finally managed to do what he was told, his blood soaked into the fog, painting it red near his hand. The substance began solidifying and then turning into dust before his eyes. It wasn’t long before a huge hole was eroded away around him, and he could move again.
The gap increased in its size and Raven wondered if it would stop the moment he had his path clear. He turned to take a quick glance at the one who had helped him and came face to face with a wolf. “Shadow?”
The one and only, the wolf said. And yes, the corrosion will spread until it has consumed every last inch of the Mist. Now go!
Raven didn’t linger. He ran. Through the mountain passages he was led by Amira’s raging heart, her strong and rapid beat pounding in his head. The closer he got, the fiercer it reverberated inside him until it became all he knew as his legs devoured the distance between them.
Hold on, he begged, feeling her sorrow and fear as if it were his own. Hold on, Angel.
He ran the narrow paths taking turn after turn until he was forced to a sudden halt by a wall. He reached for it, his fingers searching every nook and cranny for some kind of lever to open up a door, window, a portal … anything. Raven knew she was behind the stone formation. He simply needed to discover the way in.
Like a blind man feeling the world around him, he explored the rocks, his movements becoming more frantic with every second. His hands shook and beads of perspiration formed on his forehead when his diligent search turned up nothing.
“Not possible,” he forced out through gritted teeth, hitting the damned barrier with his fist in frustration. He almost fell flat on his face as his body slid through the solid stone wall. Raven righted himself, suddenly well aware he was facing a sea of witches.
They were in a carved round hall, probably a crater with smoothened walls full of sacred symbols on it. The space was devoid of anything except for a flat rock in the middle, where Amira lay dying. For a moment he couldn’t breathe, seeing the woman he loved laid on an altar while hundreds of witches chanted, forming circles upon circles around her.
Raven barged through the crowd, encountering no resistance. Every single one of them seemed to be immersed in a trance not even his pushing managed to break. And he wasn’t gentle about it. As far as he was concerned, a few bruises were a small price to pay for participating in a murder.
He approached Amira, took her hand and kneeled beside her.
“Don’t want you to be here,” to watch me die. She looked at him with eyes hardly human anymore. The crystal ocean he’d always found himself drowning in was clouding. She was fading before his very eyes. “She may not let you live.”
“So don’t leave me,” he begged, barely able to hold back the tears. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t stand to see the sacrifice she was forced to endure in order to fulfill some silly old prophecy.
“Fight it,” he pleaded, but at the same time was afraid it would do nothing. Her numb body didn’t even react to his touch.
“Trying to … but…” Her weak voice scared him. Her face was so pale, skin cold, eyes almost completely empty. He was too close to losing her forever. Raven took her in his arms and lifted her from the altar. He couldn’t stand to watch her lying helpless waiting to be butchered. It contradicted everything he knew about her, everything she was. And yet, she was fading.
But if she couldn’t fight, maybe he could. For her, he was prepared to kill every single witch around him, to end their cruel chant, stop them from turning her into a bloody sacrificial lamb.
“Don’t…,” she whispered, “it is not … not who you are … not who I fell in love with.” She sank in his embrace, her eyes not even blinking anymore.
“Then fight! Damn it!” Raven yelled. His heart stuck in his throat. He was losing his mind. The love of his life was unmercifully vanishing from his life and he had no say in it. He could not accept it.
“Not … strong enough,” she mouthed, the sound no longer coming out of her mouth.
“Then take from me.” Raven shook her, refusing to let her drift away. “Whatever you need. Just fight!”
“No … too … weak.” A painful grimace etched her face. It hurt. It hurt so much to leave him, to lose the last part of herself she’d managed to preserve for so long. She could no longer. The magic of Nially was invincible. Too strong for her. Even if she was still able to use his life force, she wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t suck him dry to save herself. But she was moved beyond words that he was willing to sacrifice himself.
Amira wished she could touch Raven’s face one more time, wipe those tears away, but her body no longer obeyed her. Not even for a moment. No matter how she willed it. She was dying. And Nially was coming. Just like it was written in the stars.
The ancient magic was something she could never have imagined—she felt powerless against it. Moreover, she was in pain from a futile battle she knew she’d already lost. In pain from leaving him and witnessing his agony. In pain from imagining what his lips uttered, but not hearing it. In pain from knowing the sweetest kiss was touching her skin, and not feeling it. She was in so much pain she thought her body should be shaking, not lying lifelessly in his embrace.
And yet, for a few more moments she was still here. Entrapped by his sheer will. His …. now … and … forever.
Yours, she whispered, the echo of her thoughts fading away. Just like her soul.
Raven closed his eyes, his fists tightening. All went still. Even his own heart stopped. The only sound disrupting the silence was a strangled, agonized roar flying out of his throat. A sound he did not recognize as his own.
The pain of holding her limp body in his arms was not bearable. He could feel himself trembling, unable to control the anguish as the whole world darkened in front of his eyes.
She was lost. All was lost.
Chapter 34
Kneeling on the hard ground in the midst of the unconscious witches, Raven could do nothing but clutch Amira’s lifeless body in his arms. He closed his eyes. It was easier this way—easier to imagine she was simply sleeping, because a part of him refused to accept anything else. He was afraid that if he let go of her, he would have to admit the truth. If he did, he would end up sobbing like a child, and a vision of her eyes opening would vanish into the thin air.
“How touching.” Her eyes did open, and yet there was no mistaking them for Amira’s. The azure he’d always found captivating was no more. Instead, he saw dark sapphires encrusted with ice.
She pushed at him in an attempt to break free of his embrace, and the force of her thrust sent him flying into the nearest rock. Raven landed on his back, hissing from pain, and it took him three attempts to stand up after the blow his body had suffered.
He hadn’t been raised to hurt women, but life ha
d taught him that monsters didn’t have gender. Male, female—it had never mattered what face they hid behind. Until now. He knew that the woman in front of him was not Amira. He could see it clearly in her eyes, in the curl of her lips. There were so many small details betraying her as Nially, Raven had not the shadow of a doubt that Amira was no more. Still, he couldn’t harm her.
He righted himself and his hesitation to retaliate cost him—he felt another hit. This time it was from his head connecting with a hard surface. The bang resonated inside him, making him see stars.
“You’ll pay for trying to interfere with my plans,” she promised, stretching her hand and curling her fingers into a fist. At the same time he felt a pain in his neck as if someone was strangling him.
“Rot in Zcuran!” he breathed harshly and felt his body become weightless—then by the force of her will, it hovered above ground.
The beautiful face that once belonged to Amira turned pink from anger. “Stupid mortal!” she snapped, and he went down again. Hard. At this point he didn’t care if she killed him. It was not worth fighting for anyway. He’d died the moment Amira had.
“All this defiance, and for what? For some stupid emotion?” she asked, slowly approaching. She trailed her fingers down his jaw and captured his face. “You must be very good in bed, since she screamed your name till the very end. Maybe…” she smiled then, and he couldn’t help but feel bile rising in his throat at seeing her expression, “maybe I’ll just try you out. See how quickly you’ll forget her.”
Before this, Raven hadn’t fought back because he didn’t feel he had anything to live for; but now he began to struggle in earnest. “Don’t make me vomit!” He shook off her touch. Betraying Amira was the last thing he would do.
Nially didn’t seem to hear him. She tried to pin him to the ground using her magic, but Raven resisted—though if he said he didn’t feel like a whole herd of mustangs had trampled him, he would be lying. The power the witch possessed was enormous.
Till Death And Beyond (Witch World) Page 30
