by S A McClure
“Yes, isn’t that what I just said? He keeps them in a garden on the other side of the cave. He once told me that they were his most valuable possession.”
Emma couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of Chiara’s announcement.
“It’s the truth!” she clapped her hands together several times. “He cares for them dearly. Spends a ridiculous amount of time tending to them.”
“Okay…” Emma sighed. “What else?”
“Me.”
“I could have guessed that already. But are you sure he still feels the same way now? Honestly, you did just attempt to kill him.”
“Yes,” Chiara replied curtly. “I’ve attempted to escape before. I’ve never gotten this far. He normally kills whoever is helping long before now.”
Emma threw up her hand. “So, what, you’re just waiting for him to kill me?”
“It’s not like that!”
“Then how is it?”
Before Chiara could answer, a blast of cold air blanketed them. Emma wrapped her arm around Chiara, drawing her tight against her as black smoke billowed around them.
Arwawl’s took shape in the smoke, becoming more solid. When his face finally formed, he glared at Chiara with such venom that she shook uncontrollably.
“You could just let her leave,” Emma said. She sounded a lot bolder than she felt.
He shifted his gaze towards her. His eyes were so cold, she didn’t understand how she had been fooled by him to begin with. His fangs descended over his bottom lip as he snarled at her.
“Why do you keep her here, anyway?” Emma continued. “If you truly loved her, you would be able to see how miserable she is with you.”
His upper lip twitched and Emma smirked. She wondered how far she could push him until he snapped. She gripped her dagger tightly as she said, “What is it? Do you delight in ruining her life? Does it bring you joy to see her tears?”
“What are you doing?” Chiara growled at her so softly that Emma almost couldn’t understand her words.
Emma ignored her question and kept going. “You know what I think? I think you’re a coward who doesn’t know how to exist without inflicting pain on others. It’s obvious that you hunger for the light even when you’re condemned to live your days in darkness.”
His eyes glowed. Emma deftly shoved Chiara behind her, such that she was between the two of them.
He lunged at them, his fingertips extending into long claws.
Emma trusted her gut instinct, knowing that he would stop himself from harming Chiara. She ducked just as he swung at her. One of his claws raked across Chiara’s chest, leaving a thin line of crimson on her pale skin. Slowly at first and then faster, her blood began to seep from the wound.
Arwawl came to a halt, eyes wide as he stared at Chiara, then he howled. He whirled around and pounced on Emma just as she brought up her dagger. It plunged into his heart. He jerked as the blade impaled him, but clawed at her. Cuts coursed across her exposed skin and she became slick with her own blood.
She managed to get her legs beneath him and kick, flinging him backwards. He landed on his feet. He leveled his gaze at her and licked her blood from his nails.
“You taste divine,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a second.
Emma gulped. Her dagger was still lodged in his chest. He had been completely unphased by the attack. So, the rumors were true. He couldn’t be killed by traditional methods.
Beheading or fire. That’s what the men in the tavern had told her would work. That’s what Chiara had all but confirmed. Fire would be the easiest solution. She did have a firestarter in her possession, after all.
“Chiara,” she whispered from the corner of her mouth.
Chiara shifted closer to her. Her eyes were wide with terror as Arwawl tracked her movements with his eyes.
“Listen,” Emma said. “I need you to create a ring of fire for me.”
“I can’t,” the girl cried. “I’m sorry.”
“Why not?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“My powers are drained from the previous fight. I—” She trailed off and, for a moment, Emma didn’t think she could continue. But then she said, “I wouldn’t have enough control over them.” She began to sob. “Please don’t make me do it.”
“Okay? What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“I don’t know, how about the entire mountainside going up in flames and being consumed by my fire. You could die, Emma.”
“Here’s the deal, Chiara. You either do this and we have a chance at survival, or you chicken out and I die anyway because I highly doubt that Arwawl is going to let me live through this.”
As she was speaking, he drew the dagger from his chest. The wound bubbled with blood for a moment before healing itself. He dangled the dagger before her, a horrifying grin plastered over his face.
“I was going to give you a life of luxury,” he said. “You were to be Chiara’s pet. Her companion during the times when I am not available.” He snarled at her, his features morphing into something animalistic. “I can see now you were too strong-willed for that.” He paused. “Your sister, on the other hand, would make a fine addition to my little family.”
“Stay away from her!” Emma screamed.
All thought of survival slipped from her as she considered her sister being kidnapped by this creature. She knew Micah would never let Iris go willingly. He, too, would die trying to protect Iris. She couldn’t let that happen.
“Do it!” she commanded as Arwawl flung the blade straight at her. “Do it now!”
Chiara hesitated. The dagger slammed into Emma’s shoulder. Pain erupted from the spot and she cried out.
“Please, Chiara! You have to try. It’s the only way!”
For a moment, Chiara seemed like a lost puppy, unsure what to do or how to do it. But, as Arwawl began to advance upon them, her jaw set and she turned her gaze fully on him.
“I won’t let you do this again,” she said.
He chuckled at her. “You’re not strong enough to stop me, my little fire.”
“Don’t call me that,” she screamed.
Her fingers sparked as purple flame danced between them. He continued to advance towards her.
“I hate you,” she whispered as she thrust her hands outwards.
A pillar of purple flame exploded from her. It slammed into his chest, burning a hole through his center. He didn’t even have time to scream as it spread over his body and completely engulfed him.
Chiara shook as more and more fire leapt from her. The flames formed a solid wall around Arwawl’s burning body. He began to disintegrate into silvery ash again.
To Emma’s surprise, Chiara bent down and ripped the dagger from her shoulder. Her touch was so hot it cauterized the wound. The blade glowed orange as the metal heated. She turned to face Arwawl, who was already reforming.
She strode through the purple flame. It licked at her skin as she passed through it, but she was completely unphased. She stood before the swirling silver mist where Arwawl’s head had materialized.
His eyes held desire in them. And anger. But there was also a sliver of fear. Emma watched as Chiara spun her fingers over the blade, creating purple flame around it. Then, she drove it straight into his eye.
His face contorted as the flames scorched his face. His lips parts in a scream but no sound came.
“This is for my family,” she hissed as she withdrew the dagger from his eye and plunged it into the base of his head, right where it connected with his neck.
Emma turned away from the scene as Chiara sawed off his head.
The air became dense and hard to breathe as the flames devoured the woods around them. Emma coughed, her muscles feeling weak and her mind hazy. Her eyelids began to droop as she imagined falling into a blissful sleep. A part of her remembered that she couldn’t do this. She needed to find a way out of this mess. To escape.
To return to Iris.
But her body wouldn’t respond.r />
Footsteps crunched on debris before Chiara leaned over her, her expression concerned.
“I’m not going to let you die here,” she said.
The words weren’t comforting.
Emma winced against her blazing touch as Chiara tugged her to her feet.
“Hold onto me,” Chiara whispered as she wrapped her arm around Emma and held her close to her body. “I’ve never attempted anything like this before and it might hurt you a little.”
Emma was too dazed to fight against her as pulled her into the purple flame surrounding them.
Chapter Six
Iris
Iris wandered through the dreamworld in a daze. She couldn’t remember if she’d been in this part of the world before. She didn’t know where she was going. Her heartbeat drowned out all other sound.
She stood in the middle of a town square. One she didn’t recognize. People milled about. Their eyes were hooded and their faces slack. They didn’t speak or look at her. Everything was shades of grey.
She began running. Was she moving toward or away from something? She didn’t know. Her feet ached and blood seeped from cracks along her soles. Her heartbeat continued pounding in her head.
A pain wove through her side. She doubled over, placing her hands on her knees and coughing. Her dark hair began to fade to grey. This dream would consume her. She needed to get out.
She looked to the sky.
No sun. No sister moons. Only a sea of grey.
Her stomach churned as she stared upwards.
A hand gripped her shoulder from behind. She spun around, her hand instinctively going to the bottles at her waist. All those years of potion-making with Grandmother Rel had been worth it. She knew how to brew poisons and explosives that could incapacitate an attacker as soon as the potion’s fumes hit them.
She gasped. Liam stood before her. Dark bags framed his eyes. Although he was still toned, he’d lost muscle in his chest and arms. His hair was greasy, as if he hadn’t bathed in weeks. He didn’t say anything to her. He just cupped her cheek, a sad smile crossing his lips.
“I will find you,” she whispered. “I will rescue you.”
He didn’t speak but he rubbed his thumb over her skin once before he faded into nothingness.
Iris chewed on her bottom lip.
“Iris Valka,” a cold voice said from behind her.
She craned her neck over her shoulder to see the crimson-eyed witch standing in the middle of a field. Her nostrils flared as fear wound its way around her stomach and squeezed. She did not want to have a confrontation with the Silver Skull coven. In a blink of an eye, the grey world was replaced with a babbling river and a canopy of trees. She rolled her eyes at the theatrics. She was used to the coven and their tricks.
“Crimson-eyed hag,” Iris said.
The witch frowned at her. “That’s what you came up with to call me?”
“You never gave me a name. I had to call you something.”
“I see.”
Iris shrugged. “What? No ‘I’m here to kill’ speech today? Honestly, I’m shocked.”
She wasn’t in the mood for small talk. If the witch wanted to kill her, she could try. She wouldn’t succeed. Iris was a Spellbreaker. And she was determined to help anyone who asked for it, not be an abomination the way the coven thought she would be.
The witch laughed. “You may call me Edilda.”
Iris’s jaw dropped. She hadn’t been expecting the crimson-eyed witch to ever reveal her name to her. There was power in names.
“What do you want?” Iris asked warily.
She scanned the surrounding woods, searching for any sign of the rest of the coven. She’d learned the hard way that the coven had the ability to physically harm her while in the dreamworld; they could kill her here and she would die in real life.
Not today.
Edilda plucked a starflower from the ground and twirled it between her fingers. Silver petals fluttered from the flower, dancing in the wind as they flew away.
“I don’t have time for this,” Iris said bluntly. “Tell me what you want, attempt to kill me, or leave.”
The corners of Edilda’s lips twitched.
“What, you think this is amusing?” Iris asked.
“Well, yes.”
Iris crossed her arms over her chest and began to imagine waking up. She couldn’t remember where her physical body was, and she didn’t care. She just knew she didn’t want to be trapped in the dreamworld with the crazy witch from the Silver Skull coven.
“I know you’re trying to leave,” Edilda whispered. “But I would like for you to stay. Something has happened.”
Iris jerked her head up and stared at the witch. “What are you talking about?”
“We don’t understand.”
“Great talk. Thank you for explaining so fully.”
Edilda huffed as she strode towards Iris and then gripped her chin between her fingers, forcing her to meet her gaze. “Listen to me, Iris. Six of my coven members have died while they traveled the dreamworld for inexplicable reasons. At first, we thought it was you.”
“I’ve never—”
“Yes, I know. But that doesn’t explain what has been happening. There is a darkness in the dreams of so many now. It’s as if the light is being snuffed out.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Iris asked.
“We need you to break the spell.”
Iris blinked at her. She didn’t know what to say. First, they wanted to kill her because of her abilities. Now they wanted to use her. She didn’t trust Edilda not to switch sides again before all was said and done.
“What spell?” she asked. It was better to know than to not.
“Honestly, we’re not sure.”
Iris closed her eyes to give herself time to think. For some strange reason, she trusted Elilda to not kill her on the spot. She couldn’t explain it, but she sensed there was truth in the witch’s words.
“How do I know you won’t kill me the moment I’ve done this task for you?” she asked. “I mean, you just tried to kill me not even a day ago. My physical body is still weak from the curse you placed on the clearing.”
“That was before the deaths,” Elilda stated matter-of-factly. “Now, will you help us or not?”
“Conveniently, you avoided answering my question. How do I know I can trust you?”
Elilda smiled viciously at her. “You can’t. All you can do is take my word for it. I promise that no member of my coven will cause you harm if you do find the curse, break it, and save my coven from whoever is killing them.”
“And you would honestly leave a Spellbreaker alive just to save your coven? Aren’t I supposed to be an abomination or something like that?”
“Even abominations can have their purposes.”
Iris narrowed her eyes at Elilda. She didn’t trust her. But she also didn’t see what option she had.
“I want you to promise that you won’t harm me or Emma.” Her brow furrowed as she thought about all the people in her life that mattered to her. “You also can’t do anything that causes harm to Micah and Liam.”
“You would protect the man who betrayed you?” Elilda asked. Her tone was intrigued, but her face remained impassive.
Iris thought about denying it, but knew it was of no use. It was the truth, wasn’t it?
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You are a curious beast, aren’t you?” Elilda asked as she released her grip on Iris’s chin. She stepped away, giving Iris space.
“How do I find the curse?” Iris asked.
A bag of bones materialized in Elilda’s hand and she tossed it to her. “Scry in the darkness. See the truth in the folds.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will,” Elilda whispered as her body began to fade.
“That’s really all you’re going to give me?” Iris called after her.
“That’s all you need.”
Iris clenched the bag as she wa
tched Elilda become more and more transparent until she wasn’t there at all. She didn’t understand why people kept asking her to do things she considered impossible. But, if this was a chance to relieve at least one of the dangers posed against them, she was willing to take it.
She cradled the bag of bones in her hands as she considered what to do next. Grandmother Rel never taught her how to scry with them. She sighed loudly as she sank to the ground and replayed exactly what Elilda had told her.
‘Scry in the darkness. See the truth in the folds.’
She had absolutely no idea what that meant, but she figured there was nothing stopping her from trying. She dumped the bones onto the ground and flexed her fingers.
“Here goes nothing,” she whispered as she scooped the bones into her hand.
She contemplated her first question. She knew from her training with Grandmother Rel that ‘yes/no’ questions were the best for finding answers. She just wasn’t sure what she should be asking.
Sighing, she whispered her first question, “Is the darkness a place?”
She tossed the bones. They clicked as they landed atop one another. Hovering her hands over the bones, she waited for some answer to reveal itself.
Nothing.
She gathered them up again.
“Is there a spell to break that can save the Silver Skull coven?” she asked as she tossed the bones again.
Once again, the bones clicked as they fell atop one another. Still, she discerned nothing from their pattern. She breathed in deeply, her frustration mounting as she scooped the bones up once more.
She stretched her neck from side-to-side as she contemplated what to do next. Clearly, her method wasn’t working. The first part of Elilda’s words repeated in her mind. ‘Scry in the darkness.’ A thought dawned on her and she groaned. It was possible Elilda meant actual darkness instead of a deeper meaning.
dark abyss. No light. Not even a single star broke through its dimness. She imagined herself floating through that darkness, reveling in the sensation of nothingness.
When she opened her eyes, she was there.
She clutched the bones to her chest, whispering blessings onto them. She needed to break the curse so that she and her sister could be safe. So that she would be free to find Liam and rescue him from Grandmother Rel.