Ascent: Book 3 of the Scorched Trilogy

by Lizzy Prince

  An ear-splitting crack ripped through the air, and the ground heaved up beneath the coronation stone, tipping it over on its side as though it were a mere feather instead of a half-ton. Dirt and rock exploded from the ground, and something inside of me shuddered with a fear so tangible that I almost doubled in half from the weight of it. Our group gathered closer together, and I was grateful because I felt the urgent need to shield us from whatever was about to happen. As I had that day in the warehouse, I threw up a shield, but it was much larger this time. The magic protected us from the rocks and dirt that were raining down on us, but I could feel it like someone was flicking pebbles at my skin. It was more irritating than painful. My bigger concern was what was going to happen when Cailleach saw us. We wouldn’t just be fighting Hattie, now we’d be facing two evil witches. My entire body began to shake as fear and adrenaline surged inside of me. Taking all of that fear and horrible energy, I pushed it out into the shield, asking it to mask us so that anyone outside our bubble wouldn’t be able to see it. I just hoped like hell that it worked.

  As the dust settled from the explosion, I could see a mutilated form in front of us, like a mummified husk that had once been human. Strips of cloth, that had presumably once been clothing of some sort, hung in tattered and torn pieces, barely clinging to the papery leather of what once was a human. Little tufts of hair were all that remained on her head, and her teeth stood out too prominently as the skin of her face had shrunk after ages of being underground, decomposing.

  No one moved within our huddle as we all watched in horror at the abomination in front of us, but Hattie looked positively gleeful that her plan had worked. I knew we should be doing something, but I was frozen by terror, unable to do more than gape, my mouth hanging open like a stunned fish. Hattie must have made a noise of some kind because the mummified witch tipped her head down to where Hattie was still kneeling.

  “First witch. I’ve brought you back to life,” Hattie said, her voice shattering the silence like a glass breaking into a million pieces, making me twitch with barely controlled terror.

  The witch took a shuffling step in Hattie’s direction and held out her hand as though she wanted to touch it to Hattie’s cheek. Hattie cringed at first, the dirt and decay obviously putting her off, but she stayed still as the witch’s fingers grazed over her cheek. She brought her other hand up to cup Hattie’s face. We all huddled silently watching the nightmare unfold in front of us with no idea what we should do. Should we run?

  I was looking around at the horrified faces of my friends and family when I heard a gasp of pain from Hattie, pulling my attention back to her. Cailleach was grabbing her face so hard that her fingers dug into Hattie’s flesh, causing little rivulets of blood to weep down the side of her face. Hattie’s hands were pulling and tugging at the witch’s fingers in futility as Cailleach’s grasp only grew stronger the more Hattie struggled. She bent and put her face directly in front of Hattie and inhaled deeply, and I bit my lip so hard I drew blood, trying to contain the strangled cry that I almost let loose.

  I could see the dark, dirty particles of Hattie’s magic being syphoned from her body and moving into Cailleach with each inhalation. She was sucking the very essence out of her and after all of the dark magic was gone, I saw golden particles of magic release from Hattie’s body, but they just hovered there. The witch hadn’t consumed this magic like the dark particles. It was as if this golden magic wasn’t hers to take, and it floated away, dancing up into the night sky before separating and moving in different directions. Some of it floated down towards us but was stopped by the barrier I’d created. Instead, it blanketed the shield like a golden overlay of protection, slowly being absorbed by my magic. I gasped as I felt it connect with my magic and immediately recognized my mother’s magic returning to me. I nearly wept to feel it, like it was an embrace from her, comforting me during this horrifying event with magic’s version of a hug.

  The whole thing started and ended in mere seconds and before we even had a chance to react, the witch released her grip on Hattie. She dropped to the ground, her once young figure now the same husk of a human that the witch had been when she’d emerged from the ground. And it had all happened in a matter of moments.

  I was frozen in horrified disbelief. Poof, just like that, Hattie’s life was snuffed out. She was a shell, a dusty husk of the human she used to be. Munro shifted at my side as though he was fighting with himself, not knowing what to do.

  Feeling exposed and frightened by the undead thing before us, I reinforced the shield and hoped it would hold. It had to. I could not let that thing do to my people what she’d done to Hattie. The witch tipped her head back, and she sniffed the air like an animal. But she had no nose, just a gaping hole that had once been flesh. I swallowed to push back the bile threatening to creep up my throat.

  I didn’t know if she was sensing my magic or if she could truly smell us, but after a moment, her head snapped toward us, and her opaque eyes locked onto me. Shit. She looked blind but somehow, she knew exactly where I was. She began moving toward me, her walk disjointed and creepy as hell as she headed in our direction. When I’d thrown up the shield, I’d made it my intention to both hide us and protect from falling debris. I could only hope the hiding part was working.

  Sweat started dripping down my face as I struggled to hold onto the shield. I knew I was using an immense amount of power, but I couldn’t let it drop. Munro was pushing his own power into me through our magical bond, and some of the pressure that was building up around me eased. Still, a trickle of blood dripped from my nose, and I pressed my lips together tightly to avoid crying out as I fell to my knees when my legs gave out. But I didn’t drop the shield.

  Cailleach stopped mere feet from where I trembled on the ground, every muscle in my body quivering as though I’d worked out to the point of extreme muscle fatigue. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold the shield, or even stay conscious for that matter. Munro dropped to his knees beside me and threaded his fingers through mine, pouring more energy into our bond until I was afraid he was going to pass out too.

  If the witch would have had eyelids left on her face, I sensed that they would have narrowed as she looked at us, or rather through us. Because I didn’t think she could see through her milky eyes or past the magic of the shield. But I got the distinct impression that she could sense us. Or maybe the magic.

  “I can smell your righteousness Áine,” Cailleach hissed out, the sound an awful grating that hurt my throat just to hear it. It was as if everything inside her was still rotted and dehydrated, including her vocal cords. A leathery hand lifted in the air like it was caressing the shield, and Cailleach started making a horrifying moan that I soon realized was a laugh. It made all of the fine hairs on my body stick straight up.

  Terrified that she would pull down the shield and annihilate us all, I pushed more magic into the barrier and realized that Mari, Ryan, Butch and Lola were all doing the same. I could feel all of their magic fortifying and strengthening the invisible barricade keeping us safe.

  “Hide away, sister, just like you always do. I’ll be back for you.” The witch rasped her nonsensical tirade at a woman who’d been dead for millennia before she turned toward the Mound of the Hostages and hissed like a spooked cat. She took off so fast she was only a blur to my eyes. It was frankly scary as hell that she could move that fast after having been buried for over a few millennia. As soon as I couldn’t see her, I collapsed to the ground, falling on my side, the magic snapping out from me like a rubber band as the shield broke.

  Munro dropped down beside me, and I realized how much of his magic I’d borrowed trying to protect us. The others looked similarly wrecked but somehow managed to stay on their feet. Probably because they hadn’t been holding the shield as long as Munro and me. Or they just had way better control over their magic than I did. I was going to pretend it was the former.

  “I’m sorry.” I groaned, reaching out to touch his face, which was near mi
ne on the cold grass.

  “You saved us,” he said, his voice just as rough and exhausted as mine.

  The others dropped down beside us, and I felt a hand on my forehead, as if it was feeling for a temperature, but instead, healing warmth flowed through me. I looked up and saw Butch’s giant hand covering half of my head. I’d laugh if the situation wasn’t so incredibly messed up.

  Mari was helping Munro, and I could already see color returning to his cheeks. She was looking at me with worry etched over her brow, but something akin to wonder as well. Before long, we were both capable of sitting up, and I had the overwhelming urge to vomit—that old familiar feeling that liked to rear its head when I used too much magic—under control. Mari sank down and wrapped me in a huge hug that would have crushed my bones if it had come from Butch.

  “You crazy girl. I don’t know how you did that, but you just saved our lives.” She kissed the top of my head and backed up, leaving me with flaming cheeks.

  Theo stood with his hands on his head, looking shell-shocked. “Anyone else feel like someone just tossed us out of the frying pan and into the fire?”

  For once, I’d say Theo wasn’t being dramatic enough.

  Chapter 3

  Once I was feeling capable of moving, I stood up and went to Munro’s side. Ryan was standing next to him, and they both looked pale, but I was pretty sure it was for two different reasons. I slid my hand into Munro’s allowing our bond to sooth the residual effects of using too much magic. Even though we were both drained, our connection still made it possible for us to heal one another, like it was a perpetuating loop, if he felt better, I felt better. I placed my free hand on Ryan’s arm, concerned by the lost look in his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” I asked as I gave his arm a squeeze, but my eyes moved to Munro, letting him know the question was for him as well.

  Whatever hell Hattie had put us through, she was still their sister and mother. I didn’t want to brush that aside as if it didn’t mean anything. Munro’s face was stoic, but I saw the confusion in his eyes. He didn’t know how he should feel, and I didn’t blame him. Talk about a complex relationship.

  Ryan was staring at the crumbled shell of what used to be Hattie’s body. She looked mummified and like we’d found her buried in a tomb for the last three thousand years, not like she’d just been here one moment, and then gone the next. Cailleach had essentially traded places with her. And now, we were left with an even bigger problem to deal with.

  “We should bury her,” was all Ryan said.

  Munro’s shoulders tensed, and the grip on my fingers tightened for the briefest moment before he nodded. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to bury her, but in deference to his uncle, the man who had raised him, he was willing to help. Butch, always eavesdropping, must have come to a decision on something because he stalked off on a mission toward the little cafe by the parking lot. I looked after him, curious about where he was headed but refocused my attention back on Munro when he started talking to Ryan.

  “There was a little wooded area just over that way.” Munro pointed in the direction we’d come from earlier. “We can do it there.”

  Ryan didn’t respond, he just kept staring at the husk that used to be Hattie. Looking over at Mari, I found her pursing her lips and looking at Ryan with as much concern on her face as I was feeling. It wasn’t long before Butch came ambling back from the direction of the little cafe holding a shovel and a tarp of some kind.

  “Where’d you get that stuff?” I asked, surprised.

  “There was a little shed behind the cafe. I unlocked it and grabbed a few things.”

  I’m sure the look on my face was impressed as I asked, “You can magically unlock stuff?”

  Butch laughed at me gently. His eyes crinkling as though I delighted him. “No, I just picked the lock.” He said it with such good-natured honesty that I could only roll my eyes.

  We formed a semi-circle around Hattie as Butch laid out the tarp and gently bent to pick her up. Ryan just stood there, still unmoving, and I was starting to get really worried about him. Whatever else happened, Ryan shouldn’t have guilt for Hattie’s actions and decisions. Butch held the wrapped bundle and started off toward the wooded area while the rest of us followed behind in a silent parade.

  I don’t think Butch’s pace was purposely hurried, but his legs were long, so his strides ate up the distance a lot faster than my much shorter ones. I scrambled to catch up, but an intense need to go back to the Mound of Hostages swept over me, and I stopped on the road. I stood there uncertainly, swaying a bit with the sudden urge to turn around and go back. The world around me spun, just enough to make me feel dizzy, like I’d been tipped upside down on a carnival ride. Munro touched his hand to my elbow, leaning down to look me in the eyes, nearly touching his forehead to mine.

  “Are you okay?”

  I inhaled the damp, cool air of the night and focused on the gray eyes in front of me, willing the uneasy feeling to pass. I hesitated but looked over my shoulder, the desperate feeling that I needed to go back to the burial mound pulling inside of me, tugging at my soul and demanding that I go back to find out what was calling out to me. But everyone was already moving away from us, leaving Munro and I nearly alone on the quiet road. Knowing that Ryan and Munro needed the closure of burying Hattie, I pushed the feelings aside and ignored the urge.

  “I’m okay,” was all I could manage as I pulled away from Munro’s orbit and hurried to catch up with the others. Munro was behind me, and I could tell he didn’t believe me, but he was letting me keep whatever this was to myself. For now.

  We hiked for a while until we were deep into the woods and away from the road. Ryan and Munro dug the hole, taking turns with the one shovel like it was only their responsibility. At some point, everyone tried to take the shovel and help, but after Ryan and Munro’s repeated rejections, it was obvious that this wasn’t something they wanted help with.

  By the time they were done digging, they were both covered in dirt and sweat, despite the bite of the cool winter air. Mist had rolled in and was leaving a fine sheen of water on my face and any exposed skin. My clothes were damp and getting heavier by the minute as I tried to suppress the need to shiver. I felt like if I were to shiver or complain about the cold or damp, that I would make this moment about me, and it wasn’t. Everyone else must have been having similar thoughts because no one spoke the entire time we were out there in the woods.

  When they lowered Hattie into the ground and covered her up, we all stood silently, looking at the packed down dirt. The conflicting emotions were palpable and there were varying levels of success at masking them. Mari looked so sad, but I wasn’t sure who she held that feeling for, Ryan, Munro? All of us who’d had our lives flipped upside down by the choices this woman had made? Theo and Butch looked uncomfortable, and Lola was stony faced as always. Ryan and Munro both looked a little shocked and even though I couldn’t see my own face, I had a feeling I was wearing a similar expression.

  “Should we say something?” Mari asked softly, her voice carrying strangely in the foggy woods. Or maybe I was just feeling disoriented.

  Ryan looked up at the sky, like he was seeking out answers from the moon peeking through the branches of the trees. He had mud streaked all over his clothing and hands, but it was his bearing that really looked a mess, and it broke my heart. He dropped his head down and glared at the ground.

  A simple “no” was all he said before he turned and headed back toward the road.

  The tarp was forever gone inside the earth, but Butch picked up the shovel where it had been discarded on the side of the grave and said, “I’ll just get this back.”

  Mari, Theo and Lola followed close behind, leaving Munro and I alone. He hadn’t moved yet, and I wasn’t about to leave him alone. Still, I didn’t know what to say. What did someone say in a situation like this? Sorry your murdering mom is dead, I know you have mixed feelings about that. I think this was one of those “if you don’t have anythin
g good to say keep your mouth shut” type situations. So I stood there, by his side, while Munro stared out into the distance, seeing nothing.

  “I have this picture,” his voice broke through the quiet of the night and startled me. It was calm and almost completely devoid of emotion. I understood that tone. It was like the protective wall I’d built up around my heart, meant to keep out pain and loss.

  “I’m sitting on my mom’s knee, and she’s laughing at something. We’re at someone’s kitchen table, somewhere I don’t recognize. And she looks so happy.”

  I stayed still, afraid to even breathe because I didn’t want Munro to stop talking. Whatever this was, it was something he needed to get out so that his feelings about his mom didn’t fester inside of him. His face was still devoid of emotion, but I saw a small twitch crease between his brows before it smoothed back out.

  “I was barely two, but I swear I remember being at that kitchen table, being held by her while she laughed and lived her life.” His eyes flickered down to the grave. “I think I may have made up the memory, that my mind took the image that I’d looked at a thousand times and converted it into me remembering the actual day.”

  His shoulders were slumped, and he looked so sad that I had to press my lips together, fighting the urge to cry that was building up inside of me. They weren’t tears for Hattie, but for everything Munro had missed out on in life. Whether this memory was real or not, he’d essentially lost both of his parents when he was just a toddler. But to have never felt the love of his mother, it broke my heart because I knew how precious that was. I’d lost my mom, but I’d been lucky enough to know her love for fifteen years. That was a hell of a lot more than a lot of people got, including Munro. I gave up trying to give him his space and wrapped my arms around his waist, my cheek laying on the solid expanse of his chest. His arms closed around me and rubbed my back, as though I was the one who needed comforting.