Page 23

Chapter 23

Killing Time

brIAR

“Q uit moping,” my Banisher snaps. “I let them live.”

I’ve been crying for two days. Two days since he stole me from my Complements and trapped me in my prison again.

And he didn’t make the same mistake he did last time.

I am well and truly trapped here. I can practically hear the magic binding me to this place.

I don’t know what the fairies did for him this time, but I don’t think I’ll be able to climb over the circle’s boundaries again.

Not that I want to.

What will I do, run into the village and try to convince Hans and Gerrit they know me?

That they care for me?

No.

They deserve better than me, anyway.

I will miss them.

I will ache for them.

But I can do nothing about it.

My body is heavy with grief at the death of a memory that is not my own.

I roll over on my side, pulling my knees to my chest. Quiet tears fall down my face.

My body has given up. I have no desire to move, no urge to speak.

Not even the idea of being outside in the sunset appeals to me.

“I wish you would kill me,” I say quietly.

“I understand that you’re unhappy with me,” my jailer says, not looking at me. “But this is the way things must be. You are a danger to everyone. A weapon that someone worse than me could try to wield. We cannot have that.” He stomps around the home, muttering and drawing sigils. No doubt to further ruin this life I don’t want to live.

“Then fucking kill me!” I shout. “Slit my throat. Bury me alive. Anything. If I am so dangerous, get rid of me. There is nothing left for me to live for.” The ache I feel knowing that my men cannot remember me is slowly drowning me.

Let it sweep me away.

Let it render me unrecognizable.

Let it fucking ruin me.

There’s nothing left for me to live for. Eternal nothingness is better than eternity alone in this prison.

“I’m making some changes,” he continues as if I didn’t just flay myself open before him. “You’ll have to understand that I can’t have you seeking them out. It’s just too risky. I toyed with the idea of having you keep your memories, letting you have that piece of them, but I no longer believe that to be the right call.”

“Take them,” I sob. “If you will not kill me, take my memories. Take my consciousness.”

He kneels before me, the black shadow of his hood bottomless, and I wonder if I am alive. He has shown no signs of being able to hear my pleas.

Do I no longer exist, or is he just cruel?

I wish to look upon my torturer.

Does he even have a face?

I have the strangest urge to push his hood back. What would I find?

What if he’s just a bunch of rats stacked on top of each other?

I can’t hold in the giggle at the image, at the idea that I’ve been scared of a bunch of rats all this time.

I reach out to touch the hood, peel it back, and finally see who he is.

He doesn’t stop me.

It falls to his shoulders, and my breath catches.

He is so beautiful.

His pale skin makes his red eyes, so much like mine, stand out. His hair falls in waves to his shoulders in a cool, blue-toned lavender.

He looks so much like me that I stumble backward.

“Hello, sister dear,” he grins. “I wondered when you’d get brave enough to see my face. You know this is only the third time?”

I know all of the words he’s saying, but they don’t make sense when put together. “The third time? What do you mean?”

He sighs, sitting back on his heels. “We have lived this life a thousand times, my dear Briar.”

My stomach is in knots. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’ve told you,” he says, his frustration evident. “You are here for the safety of the realm. You are a weapon, and I cannot allow anyone to wield you.”

“Then why not just kill me? Why the beatings? The starvation?” Every bad memory, every time he hurt me, comes roaring back to the surface. Every bit of fear that used to drip down my spine at the thought of him returns anew. “You’d do this to your own kin?”

He rolls his eyes. “Kin means nothing in this world, Briar. I did what I did to ensure you stayed here. And yet you still escaped. You still sought more.” He huffs, pushing to his feet. “And I can see it’s time to start over again.”

“No!” I shout, pushing myself to my feet. Though I desire sustenance, I am used to living on crumbs. The weakness I feel right now is nothing compared to the places he’s forced me to. My magic screams within my veins, wild and unchecked, without my Complements to steady me.

My Banisher.

My brother.

He doesn’t seem worried as he stares at me.

“You know I gave that wretched woman another curse. I imagine that little mage of yours is dead by now.”

His words are a pebble on the glass window of my soul. They will not break me.

I would know if Hans was no longer on this plane.

But my magic still reacts to the words, fueled by my righteous anger and desperate desires.

Memories flood me. Hans’s laugh. Gerrit’s gruff stare. Flint’s soft fur.

I can practically taste their blood on my tongue. Feel their hands on my skin.

Laying in the setting sun and being overwhelmed with emotions, with love for them.

That’s what this is, right?

If I’ve been in love before, my brother has wiped it from my memory.

But this feeling in my chest cannot be anything but pure, aching love for those men. My family.

My body heats as if it is on fire. A wind whips around my little home, and a window shatters as something slams into it.

My Banisher is losing control, yelling, and throwing spells at me. But I can’t hear him, and I don’t feel the magic.

A scream rips from my throat, and with it, flashes of colored magic.

A strand of purple psych magic.

A writhing mass of red blood magic.

A flowering patch of green earth magic.

A flashing brilliant ball of white light magic.

An undulating shadow of black dark magic.

All of it, pouring from me, from my mouth, my fingers, and wrapping around the Banisher.

My Banisher.

My tormentor.

My brother.

And I will be his downfall.

They weave around his life force, becoming one with the strands as he struggles against their confines.

It’s so bright that my eyes begin to ache.

But I don’t look away.

The red from his eyes begins to rust. His cheeks fall hollow.

“Sister,” he shouts over the chaos of my magic. “You do not want to do this.”

“You’re right. I do not want to do this.” The magic dies down around me, leaving just the strands surrounding him, pulsating rapidly with his heartbeat. “I need to.”

And with just a thought, I snap the strands of his life and watch his body crumple to the ground.

My vision gets spotty, and my head starts to spin.

I’ll just take a short break.

Just a little rest.