Page 24 of Once Upon a Dark October

Chapter Twenty-Four

I must have been in the grips of a horrid nightmare, the dregs of the previous workday seeping into my dreams. Screeching pulled me into that lucid in-between place, a realm of shadows and light, until I realized the bats screaming weren’t a figment conjured from my restless terror. They were shrieking somewhere close.

A leathery wing clipped my cheek.

“Morrigan?” I’d called out to her before I had even opened my eyes, her name falling from my lips in a slurred daze. “What is it?”

I caught the last of a debate between Morrigan and Josephine—my mind was still too addled with sleep to figure out what they’d been discussing—and peeled my eyes open, blinking the haze from them. Morrigan and Josephine paced frantic circles in the air above the bed. Sitting upright, I forgot to pull the sheets to cover me. They pooled in my lap and left me exposed, though it appeared my state of undress wasn’t the most urgent matter.

“Get up, get up!” Josephine shrieked. “I need you in the laboratory, the ichor’s broken out of its prison. It’s gotten loose in the tower. ”

“She doesn’t have the skill,” Morrigan continued to argue. “She won’t be able to—”

“And you can? Like that ?” Josephine reminded. “Tell me if you’ve any better ideas, because I am literally all ears, Morrigan.”

“It’ll poison her,” Morrigan said, desperate.

“I have to try.” None of my clothes were within reach, so I grabbed Morrigan’s silk dressing gown off the chair where she’d left it last and pulled it on as I was running out into the hallway. “Where’s Gwen and Clarabella?”

Josephine swooped along my right side. “Keeping an ear and eye on it, respectively, as best they can.”

“Are they all right?” I cinched the belt around my waist and hastened my steps. Morrigan flew in front of us like a silver-tipped arrow shooting through the night.

“Let’s hope.”

I climbed the stairs two at a time, the bottom of Morrigan’s dressing gown gliding along the staircase around me. My steps faltered at the landing. I gripped the door’s frame when the stench of the ichor poisoned the air.

“A light touch,” Morrigan cautioned. “Don’t let it in.”

“This requires more than a light touch,” Josephine said. “Someone has to subdue it. She’s the only sorcerer we’ve got.”

“Thank the stars you’re back,” Gwen said. She hovered by Clarabella’s shoulder, the two of them keeping a safe distance from the ichorous mass that pulsed at the center of Josephine’s laboratory. “I was about to start throwing books at it.”

The glass decanter lay in pieces on the floor. As it had when Morrigan dragged it out of Estella, the ichor coalesced in the middle of the laboratory, an entity, a curse, a sentient toxin. Claret-dark veins pulsed from the center of its coagulation. They were reaching like dead winter branches.

“I’ll be able to handle it if you keep talking to me.”

I know , Morrigan spoke into my mind alone. I’m not prepared to see you in pain .

“It will seek out the power in your blood,” Morrigan said, speaking to everyone. “And it will try to find a way in. You must not let your guard down.”

I pushed my hands outward, palms faced toward the ichorous clot. “Tell me how to…hold it.”

“It’s nothing more than blood,” Morrigan said. “Don’t let yourself dwell on its evil.”

“I’d say it’s a lot more,” Gwen said. “I can hear it, Mor. It’s got a pulse.”

“So can I,” I replied. “Believe me, the sight of it is worse.”

It’s hunting , Clarabella said. Looking for a host…somewhere new to spread its curse.

“Sonia’s blood isn’t enough,” Josephine said. “Perhaps it’ll die this way without a vessel.” I swore her beady eyes alighted with interest. “I’d love to see if—”

“I think we’d better find something to kill it now ,” Gwen said. “You know we’re always supportive of your alchemical studies, but it doesn’t seem wise. Can’t Elspeth toss it out a window and let the sea take it?”

Josephine laughed, fluttering at Clarabella’s side. “Gwendolyn, do you honestly believe the sea would drown demon’s blood?”

She doesn’t deserve that , Clarabella agreed. Polluting her with ichor seems violent.

“Too late,” I managed. “I’ve already got it. Morrigan, tell me what to do.”

Like an undertow hidden beneath a calm sea, it threatened to pull me under. Even a deft hand provoked its malice. I had prodded at it, reaching with a delicate tendril of power. It took an immediate interest in me as I caressed its drumming pulse. A shadow with fangs, perhaps. My questing fingers turned numb from cold.

“You must force your will upon it,” she said. “Subdue it, like Jo said. It won’t listen like vampire’s blood—it’ll want a fight.”

“It already is.” Ice shot through my heart. Gritting my teeth, my fangs cut into my bottom lip. I fought to stifle a cry so Morrigan wouldn’t panic. But the ichor’s pulse sped up, its veins scenting the blood trickling from my lip. “Stars above, it’s freezing . Like winter frost covering your insides.” I breathed out mist.

“Elspeth, don’t let—”

We have to destroy the ichor , Clarabella said, her voice rising, pain lancing through my ears. Before it destroys us.

“Bella,” Josephine said, strained, “we don’t have a chance against it. It’s impossible with this kind of potency.”

Impossible is your least favorite word, my love, Clarabella reminded. Elspeth, cover your ears. And I think the rest of you should find a safer distance.

“Bella,” Josephine pleaded. She whirled distraught circles around Clarabella’s head. “I’m not leaving you alone with—”

And I don’t want to shatter your eardrums again , she said. Or your hard work. Take the cloaking serum, you’ll still be needing it.

Morrigan’s wing skirted my shoulder. She had already grabbed the serum off the shelf, the vial swinging from her claws. Josephine screeched in protest, then captured another bottle from the tables, instructing Gwen to carry something else that couldn’t be left behind.

“Elspeth, you really should cover your ears.” She was as hesitant as Josephine to leave us, until Gwen implored her to follow them back down the stairwell.

The ichor was slithering out of my grasp. I held it until they were out of the tower, but recovering my hold, seizing its demonic pulse, made it attack. Icy pain stabbed through the center of me, sheared soul-deep.

I screamed, falling hard onto my knees. My concentration had shattered like the glass that cut into my skin. I’d lost control. And now it had me.

Clarabella rushed to the opposite side of the pulsing ichor, her translucent face stricken. Let go, Elspeth , she yelled. Her words made my ears sting, but I could barely feel it among the ice and poison. You must let go!

“I can’t—my blood—”

I was lost and drowning again, ichorous veins seeking the accidental offering I’d given it. Red splattered on broken glass.

Cover your ears!

That was my only warning.

From somewhere deep within her soul, Clarabella unleashed her vicious, mournful banshee shriek. I felt its power, a shockwave rolling over the entire room. It blasted the windows out first, glass ringing while it poured down onto my head. I ducked under the shelter of a table now that I had been cut loose. The pinging of vials and jars and bottles breaking above made me curl into myself.

Clarabella stood amid the storm and ocean wind without flinching, never once looking away from her enemy. She was a fae goddess plucked from the pages of our ancient folktales, terrifying and radiant.

I’d forgotten to protect my ears. A shrill ringing had begun in one, so I plugged them with my fingers. Blood slicked the left side. The ichor hadn’t seemed to take notice, writhing and twisting at Clarabella’s scream. She held fast, defiant, steady as a captain on a sinking ship. I watched in awe through strands of hair flying in front of my face. The seething, demonic coagulation trembled.

And then the ichor exploded. I winced, expecting demonic gore to rain down upon us, the tower’s laboratory flecked in dark blood. But the detritus fell like stardust, demon’s blood turned to shining embers of gold. We watched the specks fade, the tower’s calm restored except for the wind howling through broken panes.

Clarabella smiled. I wasn’t sure if that would work.

I crawled out from underneath the table, breathing heavy with fading terror. It was quite impossible not to step on pieces of glass—the tower was glittering with it. “That was incredible. Are you all right? That didn’t hurt, did it?”

No , she said. It hurts worse to keep it all in. A primal scream every once in a while is better. Though Jo will be unhappy about the damage to our laboratory.

“I think she’ll be most relieved that you’re safe,” I told her. “Everything else can be repaired or replaced.”

I sucked in a tremulous breath. “The glass coffin—”

Clarabella gave a nod of reassurance. Jo’s wards held tight. I knew she’d keep me safe.

We heard our coven-mates calling out our names with increasing concern. I turned toward the doorway to see them darting back into the tower, wings beating against the currents being pushed off the waves below us.

“What’s happened?” Gwen asked. “Where has that vile thing gone?”

“Bella destroyed it,” I explained. “Her banshee shriek chased out the shadow.”

Josephine flew in circles around her wife. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

Clarabella bobbed a curtsy, then rose again, touching two fingers to her lips, offering her ghostly kiss to Josephine. Josephine was poised over Clarabella’s outstretched fingertips, wings beating with excitement. She wanted so much to perch on Bella’s hand; they exchanged silent words, Josephine answering with bat chirps.

“I’d have liked to see that for myself,” Morrigan answered. She dug into the silk of her dressing gown, taking up the spot on my chest, a comforting weight against my heart. “The ichor being shattered from existence.”

I heard it whispering , Bella explained. Its anger, its hatred…all the evil inside of it, the blood and power it craved. And I found myself compelled by instinct. I had to make it stop.

“Well,” Josephine said, swooping into the sitting room to attach herself to the lid of Clarabella’s coffin. “Looks like Morrigan and I have less than a week to figure out how to capture sound from blood.”

I wondered what secrets that would require forcing from it.

The next few days lulled us into a routine, albeit one rife with non-stop work that made it rather difficult to gather as a coven. Endless hours at the castle meant I did not return until after midnight. The stretches of time between feedings made the fledgling cravings roar back, intense and delirious. Morrigan often took delight in bringing me down from it, sating the inescapable desire so I could sleep.

In the mornings, we’d rise early enough that I could feed, and then Morrigan and I would spend a half hour or so in the crypt working to sharpen my sorcerer’s skills. After I left, Morrigan, Josephine, and Clarabella convened in the laboratory. Gwen, I was told, would fuss over them while they used every moment of the day trying to combine the forces of blood sorcery and a banshee’s scream with the magic of alchemy.

As of late, they had been conducting trials in the crypt. Josephine had kept some of the ichor there, so not all of it had been lost when Clarabella destroyed the sample in the laboratory. There was another room deeper within the crypt where Bella’s screaming could be contained, where the blood stores wouldn’t feel more than a tremor of the earth.

Their pursuits sounded more thrilling than mine. I was envious that the tower had windows where the sunlight was allowed to enter.

This morning, Morrigan had disappeared before I had even willed myself to get out of bed. She emerged from the crypt to see me for a few moments before I set out for the day’s arduous work. Dressed in the same clothes she had worn yesterday, her tunic was untied about her collarbones, her waistcoat missing. I was already in the foyer when she found me pulling on a cloak.

“Do you have your chatelaine?”

“Of course I do.” I fastened the clasp.

Morrigan kissed both my cheeks, but I pulled her to my mouth instead. Her bat’s tongue had brought me over the edge—so many occasions I’d lost count—but I missed the taste of her kisses like this. I missed looking upon her face, holding her to me, hearing her voice fill the room.

My nostrils flared, caught on her scent—Morrigan’s ears had bled recently. I tugged her earlobe between my fingers, wiping at sticky mess. “What secrets has your blood told you now?”

“Too many. You know I’ve regrown my eardrums six times since we started?”

“Is this a habit between the two of you?”

“What?”

“Hurting yourselves in the pursuit of knowledge and, I don’t know, vampiric experiments.”

“That’s the thrill of it. Josephine would agree with me…we’ve had to entertain ourselves somehow.” Morrigan laughed, nudging my nose with hers. “Did you get the blood I sent down earlier?”

I hummed in response. Leaning into her, rising onto my toes, I traced the shell of her ear with my lips. Morrigan’s exhale turned sharp. I pulled her earlobe into my mouth, sucked the drying blood that had stuck to it.

“Clearly it wasn’t enough.” She let me nip at her neck, sighing into it in resignation. I slid my hands beneath her tunic, gliding over her tensed muscles. “Much as I hate to stop you, Ella, if you get any further, I’ll never let you leave. And you’ll be late.”

I groaned. “I hate it there.”

“Get her blood,” Morrigan said, sounding ragged and helpless under my mouth, “and then you can come home to me. ”

“She does everything she can to avoid shedding her own. But she’ll paint the floors and furniture with other people’s whenever the mood strikes.”

“You only have to do this for a little while longer,” she promised. “Know that every time you leave, I watch until the mist and fog steals you away. And then the worry settles right here.” Morrigan placed my other hand on the center of her chest. “It doesn’t break until I hear your footsteps up the path. Until I breathe in the scent of you again.” She traced my cheek with her knuckles before leaving a delicate kiss on my lips. “So make sure you come back home to me.”

“If something happens—”

Morrigan’s arms wrapped around my waist. “Don’t.”

“I have this feeling her coven is plotting another murder attempt—their hate for me has gotten worse, it seems. We can’t be so sure of anything.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” She kissed me deep enough that I got a taste of her this time while one of her hands wandered lower. “I’m sure that if anything happened, I would not rest until I saw Sonia and her coven destroyed. That I would let the harbor burn if it meant finally being free of them.”

She pushed my cloak aside to stroke her fingers along my chatelaine pinned to my bodice. “More than that, I’m sure that I was more miserable and much lonelier than I realized before fate brought you to me.”

“Oh?” I lifted an eyebrow, wrapped my arms tight around her neck and savored her body pressing into mine. “Well…if it’s your sorcerer’s heart you’re so worried about, trust me to keep it safe.” I kissed the bite that was healing below her earlobe. “I wouldn’t be here, with you, if it weren’t for the blood I can hear pulsing through it.”

The red of Morrigan’s eyes turned watery, but she forced away the tears before they overflowed. “At least one of us still has perfect hearing.”