Page 46

I steered, and steered, and steered through the powerful current of air and magic that was determined to reach Elizy.

The den. The den. The den. I had to dig in and turn toward my last chance for a self-chosen path.

I had to intervene. With clear intention to be rescued by the sorceress, her whisper sought me out, responding to my plea for help.

I am here .

Her voice caressed my ears with a gentle sweetness that crawled into my heart and calmed the tension I held.

Ripley.

Her raspy tone soaked through my soul, hooking me and dragging us closer to her. Her voice intoxicating, I released the control of the wind to her.

I will help you.

The promise spread through my veins with addictive compassion and trust and everything in between.

When we came together, her withered fingers were already wrapped around my arm.

“Hmm, this isn’t right,” Graff mused. “I think you’ve—Ripley!”

I was yanked into her den with such force that the speed left me dazed, the exterior of her stone-domed house barely registered in my vision.

Despite the suddenness, I didn’t resist. I kept moving my feet as I descended deeper and deeper into the barren abyss.

Until I arrived in the heart of the den.

An expanse of endless black sand mixed with gravel surrounded me, seemingly stretching out into infinity.

The lack of light in the distance shrouded the rest of the cave in mystery .

A solitary emerald fire added little warmth to the dry space as a lick of silver graced the top of each flame and illuminated a small area, casting hues of jade and obscure metallics onto my skin.

Graff’s screams of protest faded and deep silence enveloped me like a comforting hug.

Though the eerie environment would normally cause discomfort and unease, I felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over me, particularly when I gazed at the fire.

A faint grin even touched my lips as I breathed deeply.

Embers from the flames rushing up my nose and dancing in my lungs.

With the addition of this tranquil energy in my body, I could feel all of my magic slowly dissipating, shrinking, and eventually disappearing altogether, until a sense of homeostasis was reached, in sync with the stillness of the den.

Blood rushed in my ears and thrummed to the beat of my heart as each pump brushed up against those embers I had inhaled.

The sorceress hobbled to the opposite side of the small fire and gazed at it with two milky white eyes that were glossed over with a sheen of green reflection.

“Princess Ripley Griever,” she welcomed in a craggy and calloused tone, showing off her empty black gums. “Darling, you should have called me sooner.”

“I need help.”

Without teeth, the line of the sorceress’s mouth appeared abnormally long, and when she spoke, extra skin flapped around her deep-set wrinkles.

“I can help with whatever your pretty heart desires.” Her foggy eyes glinted at me as a grin graced her face, scraggly gray hair sweeping the gravel by her overgrown toenails.

“I need to break my marriage bond to Graff.”

She opened and closed her mouth a couple times like she was tasting something sweet. “Done.”

Done? A touch of confusion swam on top of my syrupy calm as I lifted my brows and scratched the back of my head.

I looked around, expecting something to come out of the shadows just beyond where the light of the viridescent fire touched, but nothing did.

I didn’t feel any differently. Was I supposed to?

I dropped my hands to my sides loosely. “That’s it? It’s broken?”

She nodded once, returning her bleary gaze to the flames that I now noticed licked frigid wisps on my hands. It was reaching out like it was attempting to tangle with my magic .

“Hmm,” I hummed, placing both hands on my hips.

All too quickly, a burning ignited below my collar bone, shocking me out of my stupor. The icy fire seared at my skin, and I instinctively slapped my hand over it, pressing to tolerate the pain. I let out a yelp when it intensified. “What the hell!”

Her gaping mouth opened as the crone let loose a raucous cackle, the sound of it reverberating across the expanse and returning in a staggered echo that sent my mind into a muddled confusion.

My vision blurred and my brain felt as if it were made of a tangled mess of wires, each one sparking and fizzling with erratic energy.

It sent me to my knees as I clutched my chest with one hand and braced myself against the cold gravel with the other.

It was as if the very fabric of reality had been slashed apart, and my consciousness was caught in the crossfire.

When the echoes faded and the burn of the embers seeped away, I lowered the collar of my shirt and saw a small number two inked into my skin.

Immediately, I felt Fletcher’s presence wrapping around me as I thought of his number ten in the same place.

He had been here. He had bartered with the sorceress.

“What’s this?” My voice was barely above a whisper as I gazed down at the mark on my skin .

Two gray fingers straightened. “Two years.”

I got back to my feet, swiping away at my palms to rid the tiny rocks that had embedded themselves into my skin. “Two years of what?”

Her robes dragged across the floor as she took a couple steps around the fire toward me. “Your life.”

The words speared me, taking a chunk out of my heart. Fletcher had given up ten years of his life? He had said it was about me. He had given up ten years of his life for me? I was furious and curious and fraught in the same instant.

More embers drifted up from the fire, swirled around me and entered my mouth with my next breath.

The panic calmed, lulling me back to that even-keel state that reminded me I had a beautiful opportunity in front of me.

I needed things. So many things. And it all came flooding into my system.

My next wish spilled off my lips. “Give Fletcher his magic back. It’s inside of me. I took it on accident.”

She made a ticking sound with her tongue and shook her head. “I have no interest in messing with magic, darling.”

“Then how do I give it back to him?”

She tilted her head, the hood gathering to one side like soupy dough.

“You must die,” she crooned, her voice carrying a weight of inevitability that turned my blood cold.

Then, the lines of her oversized robe began to move, as if a pack of serpents were seeking a new position on her body.

“Only when you die can you donate your magic to a new owner. Magic cannot be ripped part.” She straightened her head, the slinky-like fabric that made up her beige robe repositioned itself with a sinuous grace.

“The strain of the initial imbalance causes it to get stuck and immediately seeks a new equilibrium that cannot be undone. This is precisely why I do not meddle with such forces. Because it is all or nothing.”

Without warning, the searing pain returned with vengeance. The number two on my skin began to writhe and twist, morphing into a new number. Four.

“However, to keep the balance, you may transfer all of it to him.”

The promise. The hope. The sheer happiness to correct what I had done to Fletcher. Embers swathed my consciousness, the agreement forcing its way up my throat and out of my mouth before I even had time to ponder it. “Do it.”

The magic inside of me rumbled in my chest before I saw them spindling out of me in wisps of aquas and lilacs. It swirled above me like a vortex then shattered in an explosion of kaleidoscopic light.

The four morphed into a six. I could have fallen to my knees and wept. I was devastated. My soul had been ripped from my body, its home. But after seeing Fletcher’s magic, I knew both his and mine would be kept safe with him. It was his turn to have magic.

I took a deep breath, more embers coating my lungs. She was fixing all my problems. I was a step closer to being free and being with Fletcher. More, more, mor e ! Our life together could be utterly perfect .

“Relieve him of his ten-year burden to you.”

She smiled, diseased gums glossy with her saliva and reflecting the verdant fire. “It must be transferred, Ripley.” She waved a leathery hand over the fire, sending a plethora of embers into the air and into me. “All or nothing.”

Without thought, I blurted, “Give it to me! I’ll take his burden.”

“As you wish.”

The pain was nothing compared to the pure bliss entering my system knowing that Fletcher was finally free.

No longer would he wear the mark of the sorceress on his skin.

I’d hold this burden with unrelenting possessive care because it gave life to Fletcher Darkly.

I was honored to carry it for him. He had saved me in more ways than he knew. And now I got to return the favor.

The burning of my skin altering from a six to an eighteen barely fazed me this time. The embers kept me calm, soothing my panic with their loving embrace that began entering my magicless blood stream.

Now for the Cidris. It was all I wanted. To take them down. To save my people. To send them to the grave after torturing all of us.

But, Fletcher was a Cidris. I couldn’t wish them all gone, could I? “Kill every Cidris except for Fletcher Darkly. I want them all to drop fucking dead.”

She shook her head. “I take years, not lives.” Her wrinkly hands lifted and her robe readjusted itself.

She moved back to her original spot near the fire.

She straightened her back, chin held high, and with that subtle movement, it was like the darkness around us came alive.

Shadows swirled and whispered, reaching their claws out for me.

“If you would like, there is a way you could grant yourself as many demands as you would like without my rules to stop you.”

Every inch of me wanted what she was promising. “How?” The embers in my lungs sung loudly, pulling me closer to the fire .

“Trade places with me,” she hissed with an enticing smile.

It was so simple. The claws reaching out to me from the dark surroundings wrapped around my throat, as if coaxing me to join them, to take her place, to remain with them evermore. I could grant all my own wishes.

Tendrils of shadows suddenly exploded into broken mists that slithered back into the murky black as something agonizing burrowed into my back.

It gripped a hold on my spine and hauled me backward.

It was strong and demanding and so powerful that I couldn’t resist as it dragged me away from the sorceress.

Those embers in me froze, confused. Without access to my magic, I was at the mercy of this unknown entity.

A puppet on a string, destined to go where this thing was taking me.

The sorceress’s face contorted, her features bulging and expanding as if they were on the cusp of bursting.

Her hand reached out over the flickering flames.

Her jaw unhinged, swaying in a grotesque display as she unleashed a scream that felt like a physical blow.

The echoes of it accosted my ears, sending my head limp with vertigo .

The pain in my spine seared up my back and threatened to slash my muscles as it towed me out of the den and to the floor.

Sunlight hit me with its blinding golden rays and the grip on my spine finally released. I skidded across the dirt outside the den and lay there for several long moments, deciding if I were dead or not.

My limbs quivered to life as my gaze shot up toward a towering figure looming over me.

His presence alone was like a hurricane, fierce and unforgiving.

It swirled around me with violet sparks of rage that crackled up his arms in sharp angles.

His eyes were molten with acrimony. It wasn’t until I took in his clenched fists and diamond-shaped face did I realize it was Fletcher.

His body was wrought with tension and his aura pulsed with lilac fury.

His daunting face was illuminated by his lethal magic, a living embodiment of power and vengeance.

In a slow, harrowing thread of words, he gritted out, “What have you done?”