Page 63 of Uncharmed
‘That’s when you know it’s really bad,’ Harmony chimed in, still laughing as though not in the throes of chaos. ‘When you’re the weirdo of all weirdos.’
‘But if she’s fortunate and wise, as you claim she is, and she does as she’s told like a good little pet, she could prove useful to us yet.
’ Glory turned from Annie back to Maeve.
‘Seven is a luckier number than six. Perhaps she’d like to reignite the Cadmus heritage and join us, after all.
Why wouldn’t she crave a taste of unimaginable power? ’
The prospect, hanging dangerously over them all now, was enough to make Maeve pause her struggle.
Annie could practically hear the thoughts that were fighting each other in the girl’s mind.
A chance to save herself. Powerful people, who acknowledged that her magic was special, could maybe even compound it further.
Annie had seen how much Maeve’s confidence had improved over their weeks together.
She couldn’t blame her if the temptation of more was enough to sway her fifteen-year-old decisions.
Maeve’s gaze turned decidedly to Glory. Her mouth was set into a firm line before a smirk started tugging at the edges of her lips.
Annie stilled, barely able to watch as her precious girl sold her soul to belong, just as she had.
But then she noticed the flex of Maeve’s left wrist, the tinder-like sparks that glittered at her fingertips.
The slow, secretive motion of the tree withdrawing its hold, followed by more crackles of the girl’s magic.
The branches loosened, the roots slithered back underground.
Glory had been unwise to think that nature would be on her side, when it had always been so adoringly drawn to Maeve.
The purest type of magic would always choose to protect that girl.
‘Didn’t you hear? I’m the weirdo of all weirdos.’ Maeve jutted out her chin. ‘Thanks for the offer, but unfortunately I would rather eat my own head than live a single day like you miserable lot.’
With that, Maeve shoved Glory. Hard, with both fists, followed by a blast of fiery gold magic and bright blue flames.
The streams rebounded like firecrackers between all of the trees, splintering and sparking off in hundreds of different directions across the clearing.
It all happened so quickly that Annie could barely process how it all unfolded, the scene in fragments that she couldn’t put back together quickly enough.
She saw Romily lunge in an attempt to catch her mother from falling.
But she wasn’t fast enough. Instead, Glory savagely pushed Romily into the firing line of Maeve’s magic, using her own daughter as a shield, as her right hand sent a cannon of power into Maeve’s chest, so forceful and livid that the whole brutal motion looked impossibly, unknowably wrong.
Something in Annie snapped at that moment and her powers seemed to act of their own accord.
Jets of magic flew from her own fingers towards Glory.
Blazing sparks exploded across the clearing, frantic as Annie and Maeve, Glory and Romily’s magic rebounded between trees over and over in a glittering rain.
She saw Maeve fall to the ground, battered from all sides by magic, her small body curling inwards around the base of the tree trunk, dark hair tumbling and hiding her face from view.
She saw Romily waver, a red gash across her forehead and raw scrapes down her arms, caught horribly off guard by the merciless, reflex decision from her own mother.
Yet she still managed to blast back again at Annie before taking cover, in an effort to protect herself where Glory had failed.
Magic flew as attack and defence tangled together.
She saw Karma leap straight into action, pouncing from the witches’ ring and directly onto Harmony’s head to break her focus and block her attacking magic at Annie. Harmony was sent flying, stumbling around blindly with a shriek.
She saw Harmony’s father yell and each of the Heralds falter.
Furious, confused glances passed between them, uncertain of their next move and reluctant to go against what must have been Glory’s strict original instruction.
It was evident, in their hesitation, that they had intended to keep Maeve for their own gain after all – perhaps recognizing her value as much as Annie had, but in a very different way.
At least they were occupied for now, each throwing arms up to protect themselves from the barrage of rebounding spells as they attempted to figure out how best to hone in on their target without entangling those on their own side.
Forgetting all about the incentive of protective charms, supernatural aids, promises of staying where she was supposed to, Annie bolted out of the circle. Nothing else mattered. She had to get to Maeve.
The moment she stepped out of the witches’ ring, thick, choking ropes of magic whipped themselves with a biting sting around her wrists and tugged her arms back painfully. The shock caught her off guard. Where had they come from, these strange binds?
Battering the flying reams of magic away, Glory approached Annie with a fixed, sinister stare and a grin that seemed wild.
‘This isn’t you, Annie,’ Glory hissed, sending a cold wash of fright down Annie’s back.
Her voice was different – or perhaps Annie was just hearing it accurately for the first time: cruel and unforgiving.
She struggled to break away, determined to remove Maeve from the madness, but the binds held her rigidly.
Glory’s eyes narrowed as she realized that Annie wasn’t going to bend to her whim this time.
‘After everything I’ve done for you,’ Glory said, a marvel to her tone like she couldn’t quite believe her loss of control. She raised a hand and Annie squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to feel pain. But she stiffened when the hand only cradled her face.
‘I know you, darling. What’s gotten into you?’ Glory said, her quietly unassuming, motherly words so jarring against the chaotic scene behind her.
All Annie could register was the desperate need to get to her own girl, to Maeve – an overwhelming feeling that she would give anything for it.
Her own life, if needed. She supposed that was what a pure soul connection with someone other than her familiar was meant to feel like – true friendship or true love or the true feeling of family – and it had risen up so unexpectedly in her life, like a forgotten spring bud desperately determined to survive through any winter frost, through anything, all-consuming in its aim to carry on.
A kind of love that was incomparable. Annie had no intention of letting that love leave this realm or any other.
‘You belong with us, Annie,’ Glory said, her smile fading. ‘Nothing can change that.’
There was a ripple between the densely packed trees, a shiver that spread its way through the notches of Annie’s spine. Because she knew, before the branches parted, before she saw him come tearing into the clearing.
Annie smiled. ‘She already has. And so has he.’