Page 52 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts (Hospital for Immortal Creatures #3)

Amelia

The crowns of ancient trees formed a dense canopy, their leaves so tightly interwoven that only a stray moonbeam now and then pierced through to light the car’s interior.

Amelia avoided looking at Mikhail, though he sat mere inches from her on the back seat.

In truth, a chasm wider than the physical distance lay between them.

Yet, when the moonlight graced his profile, she couldn’t help but steal a glance. His elbow rested against the window, his tattooed arm supporting the sharp line of his jaw. Shadows from the past seemed to carve themselves into his refined features, emphasising the taut muscles of his face.

“Turn right,” Callan said from the front passenger seat.

Viktor steered the Volvo onto a narrow, unlit road.

Amelia’s unease grew, a knot of tension tightening in her stomach.

They were close. The plan was straightforward.

She, Mikhail, and Viktor would approach the witch, while Presiyan, Jasmina, and Callan stayed back, ready to intervene if necessary.

The others followed in a second vehicle, armed for war, not diplomacy.

That was why Mikhail had insisted on postponing the retrieval of the necklace until tonight.

It wasn’t for the cover of darkness, but because he’d been expecting his Tribunal comrades – and their arsenal.

The headlights illuminated a sign she recognised from her vision: ‘Byala Voda.’ They pulled over so Callan could switch to the second car, and then Viktor, Amelia, and Mikhail drove through the village. Most of the houses were well-maintained but vacant, the eerie stillness evoking a graveyard.

They passed a small chapel nestled at the foot of a hill, where another street began its steep ascent.

Houses clung to the slope like mushrooms sprouting from the earth, dotted along the incline.

The closer they drew, the stronger the necklace’s pull became.

Amelia needed no further confirmation – it was in the last house on the hill’s summit.

Even before they parked beside a yard brimming with vegetables and flowers, a cold certainty settled in her chest: this was the place.

The house itself was picturesque, with a neat, tiled roof and a single glowing window.

Amelia’s heart leapt with anticipation, and anxiety tightened her muscles. If things went wrong, they could unleash utter carnage.

Mikhail seemed to read her hesitation. “Don’t worry.

I’ve got your back,” he said. Then, gesturing over his shoulder, he added, “And if things go sideways, Presiyan’s right there, and he’s deadlier than some countries’ entire armies.

He’ll turn the witch into a sieve before she considers raising a finger against you. ”

Amelia nodded, though a familiar ache stirred within her.

If circumstances were different, she might have told Mikhail that it wasn’t the witch she feared most, but war.

Yet the man beside her wasn’t her partner.

He was the leader of the Council. His words were intended to sharpen her into a weapon, not soothe her nerves.

Victor caught up with them. “Relax. Let me break the ice before we get to the heart of it.”

The lycanthrope led the way to the house. Amelia followed, walking past the flowers someone had cared for and nurtured with love and attention. Someone they might kill for the necklace... Her steps faltered.

“What is it?” Mikhail fell into step with her. In the moonlight, his golden eyes glimmered, the ghostly outline of the lion hovering around him.

Amelia spread her arms. “This garden… someone tends to it.”

He loomed over her, forcing her to tilt her chin up. “When the Queen disrupted regeneration, did she consider how many creatures she’d harm – ones who tend gardens, animals, and others?”

Amelia shook her head. “Since when do you weigh your actions against the Queen’s atrocities?”

Mikhail’s nostrils flared. “That witch was aware of her actions when she took the necklace. She’s not a saint, despite being an excellent gardener. I’m sure she’s committed her fair share of sins.”

Amelia sighed.

He placed his hands on her shoulders with an almost gentle touch.

His expression held no softness, however.

“You’re the Oracle and, according to Gea’s letter, a witch.

Either act like it or crawl back into your corner and wait for someone to take your head.

And trust me, they will . Maybe it’ll be the Queen, maybe someone else, but when it happens, neither your concern for gardens nor your little eye trick will save you. ”

Amelia said nothing, though she was tempted to argue. She knew better than to argue with this Mikhail.

Instead, she checked the pocket of her black anorak. Callan’s watch was cold under her fingers. The other pocket concealed the small gun Mikhail had given her before they’d set out.

“Let’s go,” she said.

They were only metres from the house when the door creaked open. Amelia straightened, bracing herself for someone to appear.

As the wind tousled her hair, the door creaked again, widening just enough to let out a sliver of light.

Amelia glanced at the two men. Mikhail advanced with quiet, measured steps, carefully nudging the door open to reveal a narrow, murky corridor.

Several closed doors lined the hallway, and at the far end, a staircase ascended into shadow.

Against one wall stood an empty coat rack.

A shiver ran down Amelia’s spine just as her heightened Oracle vision caught a glint on the floor. At the bottom of the stairs lay a golden object, barely visible in the dim light.

Renenutet’s Necklace.

Amelia’s heart raced. A yearning spread through her entire being, overpowering any rational thought that might have held her back. Ignoring Mikhail’s and Viktor’s warnings, she sprinted towards the necklace.

She knelt and wrapped her fingers around the jewel. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mikhail standing beside her. She wanted to share her joy with him, but reminded herself that he was no longer hers.

“Is this it?” he asked.

Viktor leaned in to get a closer look. “It’s beautiful.”

Amelia nodded, mesmerised by the entwined serpent heads, symbolising light and dark, good and evil…

The necklace cracked and started to crumble in her hands, dissolving into sand. She clenched her fist to catch the grains, but they slipped through her fingers like water. In the next moment, a sheet of paper materialised in her palm.

Wincing, she brought it closer to her face and read aloud, “‘ I sense you coming for the necklace. If you want it, earn it. Prove yourself worthy .’”

She glanced at Mikhail. For a split second, they stared at each other.

Something flickered across his features. He reached out and grasped her bare wrist. “Move!” he yelled, almost in a panic, pulling her.

Amelia wanted to, but her legs had frozen. In the next instant, a vacuum pulled at her feet and sucked her into the earth.

The room spun around her as her vision blurred. Mikhail’s iron grip was still on her wrist.

“What’s happening?!” she cried out.

“Amelia, drop the note!” Viktor shouted, reaching for her hand that clutched the paper, and shook her wrist. She wanted to let go of the note, but… she couldn’t.

The intensifying whirlwind swallowed Viktor’s next words. The world spun faster and faster until she could no longer feel Mikhail’s hand or her own. Everything dissolved into a blur of colours before darkness took her.

And then she landed flat on her backside in the middle of a green meadow. Pleasant sunlight warmed her face. Conversations and laughter drifted from afar.A hundred metres ahead, a sky-blue lake stretched out, with people strolling around its edges.

“I told you to wait,” a familiar voice growled behind her.

She blinked a few times. Mikhail towered over her, his modern clothes and boots replaced. A sleeveless brown tunic covered his torso, paired with tight black trousers and brown boots.

Amelia’s gaze travelled from his head to his feet and back again as she rubbed her sore backside.

He scowled. “The necklace was enchanted. I’m unfamiliar with witchcraft, but I suspect we passed through a portal. And before you comment on my clothes, look at yourself.”

Amelia glanced down at her attire. She wore a gown the colour of the night sky, cinched at the waist with a belt, its wide skirt reaching her ankles.

Leather slippers graced her feet. As her gaze lifted, a new awareness settled over her – soft notes of enchanting music drifting through the valley, and lakeside stalls where figures moved among colourful displays.

Her focus returned to Mikhail, and she couldn’t hold back a laugh. Unlike her – who was a parody of a Disney princess – the clothes suited him.

“You look nice,” she said.

The manticore raised an eyebrow. “Judging by our outfits, we’re somewhere in the late Middle Ages.

If I had to guess, these are witches and witchers, and we’ve landed at a witch gathering.

” His expression became even more sour. “I’ve heard of magical traps like this.

It’s a game that won’t end until we retrieve the necklace. If you retrieve the necklace.”

Amelia scanned the lake again. “So, all of this is an illusion?”

He offered her a hand to help her up. “Quite the opposite. It’s very real. And if we don’t find a way out, we’ll be stuck here.”

She patted her dress. The watch was gone… She’d had it in the house…

“None of the clothes or items we had with us are here,” Mikhail said.

“Did the witch take them?”

“I don’t know.”

Prove yourself worthy , the note had said.

Mikhail’s eyebrows furrowed. “Stay close to me and don’t do anything foolish. Like lunging for a random object while I’m yelling at you not to.”

“I couldn’t stop it. As the Oracle, I feel an uncontrollable pull towards them—”

He waved dismissively. “It’s time you learned uncontrollable impulses can cost you your life.”