by S A McClure
Iris smiled sadly. There it was. The real reason Emma wanted to stop searching for Liam. She was afraid of losing her.
“Do you remember when we used to act out the stories of our favorite heroes?” she asked. She kept her voice light when she asked.
Emma nodded.
“You always wanted to play the hero. You used to tell me that you would protect me. Save me.”
“I always was the braver—”
“I’m not that scared little girl anymore, Emmaleigh,” Iris said firmly. “I have to have room to make my own decisions. To make my own mistakes.” She closed her eyes, knowing that what she was going to say next might hurt her sister. “I need to learn how to be my own hero. You nearly died six months ago because you were so focused on saving me that you were willing to sacrifice yourself.”
“And I still would—”
Iris held up her hand, stalling her sister’s interjection. “Can we both agree that we want to save each other? That we love each other enough that we are willing to be each other’s heroes?”
Emma met her gaze, a broad smile creeping across her face. “I’m not sure I know how to let you take those risks.”
Iris shrugged. “You will always be the person I want to save me, but I need the chance to save you, too. We can save each other.”
There was a long, awkward moment of silence as Emma stared down at her hands. Iris couldn’t read Emma’s face. She didn’t know if what she’d said landed with her or not. She hoped it had. She didn’t want to be a weak little bird who only knew how to accept help from others. Whether Emma liked it or not, she couldn’t be that person anymore anyway.
“And you think that going after Liam is the best way to find yourself?” Emma finally asked. There was a note of bitterness in her voice that gave Iris pause.
“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know if I could live with myself if I let his cry for help go unanswered.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Fine. We’ll do it your way,” Emma said, meeting her gaze once more. “I’m in this with you, Iris. No matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”
Iris stuck her hand out. “It’s agreed then.”
Emma didn’t hesitate as she took her hand and shook it.
Micah laid his hand on top of theirs. He cleared his throat before saying, “I’m with you to the end.”
Chapter Ten
Emma
Emma cradled Iris to her chest as she slept in the tavern room. The small window in their room rattled as lighting lit the sky. She peered out the window. It was a glorious thing, the swirling rain and gusts of wind that carried debris with them. Streaks of lightning illuminated the outlines of the village.
Some people were scared of storms. Emma never had been.
To her, storms were a time when she saw the beauty of the world. The Creators had done this for them. Even in moments of chaos, there were threads of Light.
She kissed the top of Iris’s head and breathed in deeply. She still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of her sister putting herself in danger, but she knew she couldn’t keep her safe. She couldn’t be with her every moment. And, with Iris’s ability to walk through dreams, she would never be able to fully protect her again. There was always the chance that Iris would encounter something—or someone—in the dreamworld that could hurt her.
Even kill her.
Pounding outside the tavern drew her attention. As carefully as she could, she disentangled herself from Iris’s arms and tiptoed to their bedroom door. Micah snored softly on his bed on the other side of the room.
Emma was thankful the storm was so loud. She hated mouth breathers.
She cracked the door open enough that she could see into the hallway. No one was there and all the candles burned low. Glancing back at her sister, Emma slipped from the room and silently crept down the hallway. She hit behind the railings on the second floor.
The tavern door flew open in a torrent of rain and debris. Three women entered, all clad in dark cloaks. The leader drew back her hood as Fooks entered the room. He wore a robe that didn’t close fully over his torso and his hair was disheveled. He yawned widely as he stood behind the counter.
“What can I do for you?” he asked jovially.
“We’re looking for a set of travelers. Two women. One man. Have you seen them?” the woman asked.
Emma narrowed her eyes at them. There was something familiar about the way they moved in unison. It was as if she had seen them before—but hadn’t at the same time. She searched their faces, looking for anything that could jog her memory.
They were each beautiful in their own way. All young. All with long, flowing hair. All with a sharpness to their features that reminded her of Grandmother Rel.
Definitely witches.
She gasped at the realization. She should’ve recognized it as soon as they entered. All the signs were there. The way they moved. The fact that there were three of them.
She squinted at the one who’d withdrawn her hood, searching for what she already knew would be there. The woman lifted her arms to gesture at Fooks, her face contorted in frustration. Her sleeves fell to her elbows and there, on her forearm for all to see, was the outline of a Silver Skull.
Emma covered her mouth with her hand. She should have known when Iris told her that the coven had struck a bargain with her that it would be suspect. She should have recognized the promises for the lies they were.
She didn’t wait to hear what Fooks had to say about the matter. She lay on her belly and crawled down the hallway back to her room with Iris and Micah.
She pulled to her feet as she crept through the door. She closed it gently behind her and then hurried over to Micah. Covering his mouth with her hand, she prodded him in the shoulder until he jolted awake. He drew a dagger on her before the sleep fully left his eyes and he met her gaze. She held a finger to her lips with her free hand before releasing his mouth. She motioned for him to get up. She began packing. After a moment’s pause, he helped her. They let Iris sleep. Emma wanted to give her as much time to rest and recover as possible.
When they were packed and ready to leave, Micah scooped Iris into his arms. He held his hand over her mouth so that when she woke, she couldn’t scream. She flung her hands out wildly and flailed her legs. Emma rushed to her and stroked her hair, attempting to ease her panic. It took several moments, but eventually Iris calmed down.
“What are you doing?” she hissed behind Micah’s hand.
“We have to leave,” Emma said. “The Silver Skull coven lied to you, Iris. They never intended to let you live.” She paused, debating whether to tell Iris that the coven was here or not. She decided that honesty was the best route to go. “There are three of them talking with Fooks right now. They may already be on their way up here.”
Iris’s eyes bulged and her cheeks flamed. Emma didn’t know what she was thinking or feeling, but she could sense that Iris was spiraling down a dark path when she finally met her gaze.
Micah lowered his hand.
“I am sick and tired of running,” Iris hissed. She pushed away from Micah and tumbled out of his arms.
Emma raised an eyebrow at him, knowing that he’d intentionally let Iris go. He shrugged at her, a half-smile on his lips.
Iris rose to her feet and placed her hands on her hips. “You said there are only three of them?” she asked. “Well, I think we can take them.”
Emma went still at the suggestion. It was one thing to know that her sister would be fighting in the dreamworld, but that didn’t mean she immediately wanted to put her sister in danger in the real world. Besides, she was still weak from her encounter with the mysterious strangers from the dreamworld.
“Iris,” she began, ready for the argument she knew was imminent.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Emma and Iris spun around in time to see Micah crack the door open and then swing it wide enough for Chiara to step into the room.
/> Iris, who hadn’t met Chiara before, lunged for a dagger that was holstered to Emma’s leg and brandished it her.
Chiara’s fingertips flickered with purple fire as Iris stepped forward.
“Who are you?” Iris hissed.
Chiara raised an eyebrow at Emma. “Do you let all your siblings threaten the people who saved your life?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “She’s a friend, Iris.” She laid a hand on Iris’s wrist and drew the dagger down. “She helped kill a monster in the mountains.”
“What your sister means to say is that we rescued each other,” Chiara said with a smirk.
“I think you did most of the saving.”
Iris twisted out of Emma’s grasp and moved to stand closer to Micah. Out of the corner of her mouth, she asked, “What are they talking about?”
“Long story,” he said, “but we don’t have time for that right now.”
“You should come with us,” Emma said to Chiara.
“Is this about the three witches who are here?” Chiara asked. “Because that’s why I came to wake you. I heard them talking about the three of you. Fooks sent them away, saying he’d never seen the like of you, but I don’t get the impression they believed him.”
Emma’s nostrils flared. She was surprised that Fooks hadn’t sold them out, but she was grateful he hadn’t.
She met Chiara’s gaze and said, “You really should come with us. We could use your help and it would be a chance for you to get out of here.”
“We don’t even know her!” Iris said.
“I do,” Emma replied coolly. “And I’m telling you, she would be a great addition to our team.”
Chiara frowned slightly. “It’s alright Emma,” she said softly. “I’ve been away from home long enough. I should go back. See if any of them are still alive.”
“You can’t do that,” Emma said. She didn’t know how to explain it. She just felt that her abilities had drawn her to Chiara for a reason. “Please.”
Chiara shook her head. “I’ll help you get out of the village,” she said. “Make sure the witches aren’t waiting to ambush you. But I can’t go with you.” She paused and stole a glance at Iris and Micah. “You have people who need you more than I do, Emma.”
Emma close the short distance between them and took both of Chiara’s hands in her own. “You’ve been through so much. You shouldn’t have to be alone.”
The half-smile returned to Chiara’s face. “I’ll be fine. Trust me. Besides, I really do want to go home. If I’m lucky, my family will still be waiting for me.”
Emma wanted to argue more, to try and convince Chiara that leaving their little group was a mistake, but then she saw her sister’s face and knew that it wasn’t worth it. Iris needed to find Liam, and Chiara wanted to go home. There would be no middle ground.
Sighing, she said, “Fine, but I want you to send a message to me, letting me know that you’re safe, once you arrive home.”
“Of course.”
“Not to break up this beautiful, heartfelt conversation,” Micah cut in, “but we really do need to be going.”
Chiara didn’t have to be told twice; she turned around and, motioning for them to follow, strode from the room.
“Are you strong enough to walk or do you want me to carry you?” Micah whispered to Iris.
Iris shrugged. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Honestly, I think I can manage, but I may tire quickly.”
“No worries,” Micah replied.
Although his tone was neutral, Emma could see the worry etched into his eyes. He really did care about Iris. Something about the way he watched her sister follow after Chiara made her hands twitch.
“Keep an eye on her,” she said as she stalked past him. “I’m counting on you to keep her safe.”
He grasped her hand and squeezed.
“Always,” he whispered.
Outside, the storm raged around them. It was so dark, Emma could barely see her hand in front of her face. Except, of course, for when lightning coursed across the sky, as if it were splitting the heavens in two.
She held onto Iris’s hand as they walked down the village streets. It was eerie how silent the town was. Despite the storm, not a single light was on in the cottages.
By the time they reached the town’s gates, Emma was soaked down to her bones. She shivered as a gust of wind whipped through. She hoped they didn’t all die from a lung infection, instead.
They had just stepped beyond the fence surrounding the village when Chiara spun around and made a strange gesture with her hand. It looked like she was trying to communicate something to them without speaking.
“What?” Iris asked, her voice carrying on the wind.
Chiara’s shoulders slumped. She turned around slowly, purple fire dancing between her fingers. Emma stepped in front of Iris and drew her daggers. She wanted to use her bow, but with the wind, her arrows would be less than useless.
A vein of lighting illuminated the sky, revealing a row of six cloaked figures before them. Emma’s shoulders tensed as she assumed a defensive stance and waited for the witches to do something.
“Iris Valka,” one of them called. Her voice soared over the sound of thunder and wind.
Iris stepped forward. She showed no signs of fatigue as she placed herself between them and the coven.
“Elilda tells me you have broken the spell that killed our sisters,” the witch said. “For that, we are eternally grateful.”
Iris said nothing. Emma had the sense that Iris was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something felt off about this encounter. Why would they come in the dead of night, in a raging storm, if they didn’t intend to kill her?
“She tells us that she bargained with you for your life,” the witch continued.
“Yes,” Iris responded in a clear, confident voice.
Emma was surprised at how well her sister was keeping it together. She would have thought Iris would be quaking. Maybe she was and she just couldn’t tell because of all the wind and rain.
The other five witches stepped forward. “We do not share our sister’s opinion that you are not a threat to our way of life,” their spokeswoman hissed. “You, who can break spells at will. Abomination. Spellbreaker!”
On the last word, all six witches raised their hands in unison. Tiny bolts of lightning passed from one hand to the next, growing brighter, thicker, and more erratic, as it jumped from hand to hand. Their speaker stepped forward and the lightning turned into a ball of pulsing, light blue magic. She launched it straight at Iris.
Emma lunged for her sister. Before her fingers even grazed her sister’s head, the ball of lightning exploded in midair. Waves of heat washed over them.
Iris panted, her shoulders sagging as she collapsed into Emma’s arms. Chiara launched a stream of purple fire at the coven witches. A wall of hard air formed in front of them, blocking the fire from reaching them.
Micah rushed forward. He spoke quietly to Chiara. She placed her hand on his sword and it began to blaze with purple fire. He didn’t meet Emma’s eyes as he sped across the space separating them from the coven witches. Iris turned her face to watch him charge forward. Her eyes widened in horror as a blast of energy struck him on his side. He groaned in pain, but kept running forward.
Emma stroked Iris’s hair from her eyes and whispered, “I have to help him.”
She charged after Micah, a dagger in each hand. The coven witches divided their attention between her and Micah. Blasts of energy, fire, and lightning shot through the sky. Emma avoided being struck by them.
From the corner of her eye, she watched Micah dodge the volleys. He leapt from side-to-side to avoid being struck by any of them. She raced alongside him. She began to let herself believe that they could make it to the coven witches. That they could kill them.
A pillar of lightning shot across the ground. Emma didn’t notice it coming towards her until it was too late. Already, her arms began to tingle and she knew she was about to be shock
ed. The pillar dissipated with a loud crack. She was thrown backwards and landed on the wet ground.
Shaking her head, she scrambled to her feet and then rushed forward again. She ducked low as a ball of flame shot at her. It singed the top of her hair. She jumped to the left as another burst of energy shot at her.
“Not today,” she whispered, “not ever.”
She sprang forward in the air and tucked her arms in tight as her feet slammed into the chest of the first witch. The woman shrieked as she fell backwards. Emma landed on her back but leapt to her feet and straddled the fallen witch. She didn’t give her time to react as she plunged one of her daggers straight into the woman’s chest.
The witch blinked at her several times. Her eyes widened as blood bubbled over her lips. Adrenaline pumped through Emma’s veins as she whirled around and identified her next target. Micah was engaged with two of the witches. Purple fire formed a circle around them. There was no escape this time. They would either die in this fight or they would rise to the occasion.
One of the witches extended her hand towards Emma. Black smoke billowed from her hand and began winding its way around her middle. She swiped her dagger through it, but it just reformed. It began tightening around her, squeezing her ribs until they ached.
“Stop,” she wheezed.
The witch snarled she continued to tighten her hold on Emma.
A burst of purple flame struck the witch in the head. The black smoke released its hold on her and disappeared with a gust of wind.
Emma didn’t have time to recover as another witch raced forward and raked her nails across her cheek.
Emma didn’t have time to recover as another witch raced forward and raked her nails across her cheek. She landed strike after strike. Blood began pouring from Emma’s face, mixing with the rain.
With a cry of rage, she gripped the witch by her hair and yanked backwards. The witch cried out in pain and wriggled beneath Emma’s grasp. Emma kneed her in the stomach and flung her to the ground. The witch flung out her hands and a gust of wind hurled Emma backwards. She slammed into a tree. Stars burst in her eyes.
