Page 23 of Evermore

The Remnants hissed and stretched for me, scraping down my tattered shirt until they drew blood again. A manifestation of her fury, no doubt.

“Archer, you have to talk to her. She’s lost control.”

The door to the house flew open with a resounding bang. Quill burst through the opening. The child’s long curly hair wasa mess of tangles behind her as she ran. Her feet barely seemed to touch the ground. She raced across the yard, her eyes wild and her face contorted with a mixture of anger and desperation.

I didn’t fear Archer. Nor the raging vestiges of magic from Paesha’s tantrum, but the child? The Fera? That look in her eyes as she stared me down sent a shiver down my spine. She did not know what she was capable of. No one truly did.

“Quill, no!” A red-haired woman’s voice rang out, sharp and panicked. “Stay out of it!”

But the girl paid no heed to her friend’s warnings. She charged forward, her arms outstretched as if she could physically push back the encroaching shadows. The child, freshly nine if I remembered right, threw her hands on her hips as she stood toe to toe with me, looking back into the darkness that consumed Paesha and Archer only once. “What did you do?”

“Go back inside like you were told,” I warned the child.

The Remnants surged forward. They likely meant to form a barrier around the Fera also, but it was clear Paesha had no control and even if she did, I’m not sure the Fera would have allowed it, though I had no idea the reach of her blossoming power either, nor did I know how she was affected by the god’s current plight.

The air shimmered and pulsed, like heat waves rising from scorched earth. Tendrils of energy, invisible yet palpable, coiled around her slight frame, building in intensity with each ragged breath she drew. She was everything. And nothing. Untrained. Unclaimed. And dangerous as fuck.

The weight of her stare pressed down on me, heavy as a physical blow. “Let them out.”

The shadows surrounding Paesha and Archer pulsed in response to Quill’s command, feeding off her anger. They grew thicker, darker, more menacing. The inky tendrils lashedout with renewed vigor, leaving fresh gashes across my skin wherever they struck. Still, I fucking stood there, a lamb to slaughter, because I couldn’t leave her. If I walked away, I may never get a chance to speak to her again. That was absolutely something Alastor would do. And she was mine. Not his. Not even this feral little child’s. She was fucking mine.

Quill’s magic swelled, a rising tide of raw, untamed power. It crackled in the air, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. The ground beneath our feet began to tremble, fine cracks spider webbing through the packed earth.

“You get the hell away from my family,” Quill said, her voice low and slow and almost adorable, if not for the threat.

“I’m not here to cause harm.”

“You’re the liar, aren’t you?” she asked, spreading her feet as if she meant to attack me.

“Everyone lies.”

“Maybe in your world,” she said with an eerie smile. “But in this one, it’s against the rules.”

I took a step back, trying to lure her away from Paesha’s Remnants. If she continued to feed them her anger, this wouldn’t end well.

I could feel Paesha’s panic and rage building to a fever pitch behind that dark barrier. If I didn’t diffuse this soon, magic could tear this place apart. Mine, hers, or the kid’s. Either way, this was a melting pot of trouble.

“Quill,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. “That’s your name, isn’t it? You need to step back. You’re making it worse.”

“No!” she shouted. The ground shook beneath our feet. “You’re the one making it worse! You need to leave!”

“Story of my life, kid. Now be a good girl and go back to your house.”

“Maybe you should be a good boy and f?—.”

“Quill!” the other woman shouted.

She winced, showing the first break in her exterior. “Sorry, Thea, but he’s the bad guy.”

True again.

“Quill,” a voice said from behind me. I straightened, that voice of gravel grating down my spine as Aeris stepped forward. With her silver hair pulled back into a bun and a simple frock style dress on, I hardly recognized her. “You mustn’t anger a Keeper. Look at Paesha. She’s suffering in there. We need to help her, and we can’t do that while we’re fighting, can we?”

The goddess took my side, never once making eye contact, speaking to the child as if she were a frightened animal.

“But he’s not supposed to be here,” Quill said, pointing at me. “He’s a bad man.”

“That may very well be, little bird, but right now we need to focus on helping the Huntress,” Aeris said gently. “The more we fight, the more her magic lashes out. Can you feel it?”