Page 124 of The Unbound Witch
Spinning on a heel, I stomped away, more frustrated with myself than anyone. I could feel those eyes on me, though. Even now, when I spoke to him like that, he was not used to it. He’d commanded his world for so long, to give up control was a physical blow to him. But I’d never played by his rules, and he knew that.
I’d lost everything I’d ever worked for in one afternoon, and I needed time and space to process everything. I thought of the shop, of the home we’d shared as sisters, now tainted with murder. Of the night we’d dropped our blood into the cauldron, nearly too drunk to remember. Of dancing below the full moon half naked and lying in the warm grass summer after summer staring at the stars with hungry stomachs and happy hearts. Of the way she’d always defended me so recklessly, just because she fucking loved me. I should have just told her. I’d been holding so many things from her since the moment we entered the damn Trials. She didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve her.
Bastian hadn’t even tried to follow me. I knew he wanted to. Knew the moment I’d spoken those words to him, he’d like to command me to stop and speak to him. To run his fingers down my throat and remind me that he was the one in charge.
My mind became lost in thoughts of him as I approached a half-standing building that used to be my parents’ home. My heart dropped into my stomach as I inched forward, then stumbled back. I’d been so unfair to them as well. Hadn’t considered Nikos’ persuasion would be the reason they’d been so pushy these last years. I feared now it would be too late.
“I’ll go with you,” Kirsi whispered, appearing beside me.
I would have thrown myself around her had I known she would be able to catch me without warning. “I’m so sorry, Kir. I should have told you everything as soon as I figured it out. I just … I don’t know what I’m doing. And everyone needs to know everything about me, and I can’t even find two minutes to myself to just figure this all out. And everything keeps falling to pieces.”
“You’re rambling.” Her voice was calm. Steady.
I paused, taking a breath. “Are you okay? I have no idea what the old wraith told you.”
“It was Nym,” she whispered. “Nym killed me.”
I gasped, stepping toward her. “I’m so sorry. I hate this. All of it. I hate the space between us now. I hate that I can see you hurting and can’t fix it. I hate that it was her, of all the people in the world. He had to choose her.”
“I can’t forgive her.”
“Kir … She couldn’t. You know she couldn’t have stopped it.”
She rounded on me, anger and sadness clashing as she yelled. “She could have told me. Should have told me. You confessed everything the second you were able to. You mourned Bastian to the point of sickness in the human lands. You hated yourself every single second of that time. And what has she done? Only lied.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re allowed to feel how you feel without me trying to justify her actions. I know it hurts.”
She shook her head. “I have nothing, Rave. Not really. She was my reason for everything. It used to be me and you and Scoop against the world. And now he’s gone… And you, you’ve got Bastian, and where does that leave me? I don’t ever want to hold you back, but you can’t say anything has been the same since the Trials started. You’re fucking dying, and you didn’t even think to tell me.”
“I don’t know how to say the words out loud. The Omnia was split with curses, and now the remnants are dying and I’m tied to them. Which means all the witches are going to lose their power. It started with Fire, but it’s not going to end there. My problems seem so small.”
“Every second since we’ve come back from the human lands has been to stop the Harrowing so I could save her. Save you. Do you think I give a shit about the rest of the dying witches? They sure as fuck don’t care about me. Your problems are the greatest problems in the world to me. And to Bastian. And Atlas and Torryn. We’re a family now. Fuck everyone else. If you’re really dying, Rave…”
Her voice trailed off, but I knew what she meant. “You’ll be here, and I’ll be there and we’ll never be together again.”
Another tear slipped down her cheek, vanishing before it hit the ground. “Not a small problem. The only problem.”
“I love you, Kir. You’ve always been the best of us. The most heart and the biggest bite.”
“I love you too, asshole.”
I laughed, swallowing my sadness as I turned back to my parents’ house. “Together, then?”
“I’ll be right beside you.”
Sounds of wailing neighbors and mourning witches carried me forward. The house leaned to one side, the door hardly opening on the crooked frame. It smelled of dust and ash. No hint of the home I’d known as a child. Not a single wall held a picture, the floors creaking, threatening to sink in. The back half of the house was gone completely, ripped from the ground like it’d been unearthed by a tornado.
“Hello?” I couldn’t help the way my voice cracked as I sucked in several sharp breaths, swallowing them like daggers, knowing what I’d find when I rounded the next corner. With no signs of them in the front half, they must have been outside, tending to the final crop in their garden. They hadn’t had a second to hide. To scramble away from the blast of the books.
They hadn’t even had time to reach each other.
The world fell silent as I spotted my mother, crumpled to the ground not ten steps from where I stood. Her favorite sage-colored apron smeared in blood, face down in the dirt. A cry swelled in my throat as I fell to my knees and crawled to her, rolling her over as if that would have saved her. She’d loved me so hard my whole life. To a fault, it seemed. Why had I been so naive to believe that smothering someone with love was the worst kind of thing? She’d protected me every single day of my life and I’d never thanked her for it. Guilt wrapped itself around me as I brushed the black hair from her face, staining my fingers with her blood.
I’d never noticed how much she looked like my grandmother. I was born to a line of fearsome witches. I was the daughter of the witch who’d first doubted the integrity of the coven leaders. Who’d gone against everything she’d known, even the advice of her own mother, to protect me. She’d jumped in mud puddles with me and then taught me how to remove the stains. She’d helped teach me how to cast a spell, though it must have killed her to see me do it. She’d made tea and sat with me for hours after I’d watched my grandmother’s death, singing to me and soothing my heart.
It hurt. Everything hurt. I could hardly see beyond the pool of tears in my eyes as Kir took my hand and pulled me away. Not to take a second away from mourning my mother. Not when she let go of me to go to my mother and carry her fallen body across the garden, laying her gently beside my father.
He lay on the ground in the far corner, impaled by the handle of a garden tool, blood pooled around him turning the brown dirt into mud. The ache in my chest became an unyielding dam of sorrow. It would not break, and I could not breathe. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t make a sound beyond a sob as I looked upon his face.