Chapter 48 - Nicole
Nicole
He’s dying before me.
His skin darkens like coal, shrivels, and dries into lifeless bones.
But life lingers in his eyes until the very end—a boundless sorrow clouding his irises, screaming from his pupils.
A cry rises in my chest, shaking my skull with overwhelming force, but it never reaches my mouth.
At that moment, the last spark of life in Gaetano fades, leaving only the endless darkness of the cave.
“Gaetano?” I stare into the void. No, it can’t be. “Gaetano?!” My scream echoes off the stone walls and slams back into my chest like a bullet.
I collapse to the floor and start crawling, blindly patting the ground for his clothes. I need some proof that it really happened. That he was here… and now he’s not.
A distant thought pierces through the haze. I won’t find any clothes because he didn’t have any. When he dropped the illusion in the castle, he had nothing on…
The castle. He must have gone to the castle.
My fingers seek the dagger strapped to my thigh.
My heart clenches along with my fist around the handle.
Gaetano can’t be dead. Because if Gaetano is dead, the curse of the Black Joker and the castle itself would cease to exist. The very thought freezes my muscles, as if I’ve been locked inside a coffin with no air.
If you need me, speak my name to the blade.
Portal. The words ignite in the dark. The blade’s icy touch offers me a glimmer of hope.
I press the dagger to my heart, praying silently.
Right now, it’s the only thing I have left of him.
The metal trembles against my skin, sending a faint jolt through my chest. My skin prickles, but I don’t break contact.
A moment later, a surge of electricity runs through my body.
The ground vanishes beneath my knees, and I fall.
I land on the floor of Gaetano’s castle, still clutching the dagger. Trying to hold back the nausea, I push myself up and survey the dim room. It looks exactly the same as when he dropped the illusions.
With one exception. All the numbers on the wall are crossed out.
My eyes lock on 300, and something inside me flips. This time, I can’t fight the wave of nausea. It sweeps over me, and I vomit on the stone floor. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I step away from the wall.
That’s when the shadows descend upon me. They pour from the corners and swirl around me, resembling a flock of rabid birds, desperate to peck out my eyes. As I shield my face with my arms, I remember they have no substance—they can’t actually touch me.
They form a black cloak above me, as if trying to hold me in place, but I slash through them with the dagger and stumble toward the window.
Another wave of horror nearly knocks me off my feet when I peek outside. All the graves are filled.
No. No, no, no…
My mind goes blank. If all the graves are full…
I run to the archway at the far end of the room and sprint up the spiraling staircase. I’ve never left the castle before, but Gaetano once told me this was the way out.
I race downward. The stairs twist and twist, stealing the breath from my lungs.
At last, I reach a vast empty foyer. The air is thick with dust and deadly silence.
My footsteps echo as I dash toward the massive wooden doors in the distance.
The metal handle stings my palm with its coldness.
I don’t let go until I’ve forced it to move.
Panic rises again when the graveyard stretches out before me—an ocean of filled graves. Ten rows, thirty graves in each. They rise from the earth like bloated bellies fed with living flesh. The dirt covers them, with stone crosses piercing the ground at their bases.
My pulse throbs in the silence while I sprint past the rows. I need to get to the very last one—grave number three hundred. The green grass beneath my feet is slick, as if trying to trip me.
While I run, the shadows catch up to me.
“Leave me alone!” I scream. Maybe they hate me because he spared me? Maybe they see me as an intruder? I don’t care; they can’t break me! I’ve faced flying vials—those really did cut. These desperate shadows won’t stop me. Because I’m more desperate than they are.
At last, I reach it. A fresh mound of soil. The number 300 carved at the top. The soil lies heavy, freshly turned.
That dark feeling that’s been circling inside me for days erupts throughout my body, burning me with fury. I drop to my knees in front of the grave and thrust my hands into the soil, scooping it up. It’s soft and warm as I fling it aside, then do it again. And again.
The shadows gather around me, swallowing the edges of my vision.
“You had no right!” I scream, digging deeper.
The dirt bites under my fingernails, but the pain fuels me. I claw at the grave with ferocity. Earth gets into my mouth. I spit out mud, blood, and tears.
I’ll destroy Madeline, so you’ll be safe.
“Who told you I wanted to be safe?!”
Despite my aching knees, I continue to dig. At some point, the shadows fade from my sight.
“Who told you I wouldn’t hate every breath?!”
I scoop again, tossing the dirt aside. Tears and grime sting my eyes. I won’t stop until I know for sure he’s in there.
My fingers hit something soft. I freeze, staring down at the hollowed earth. My heart skips a beat. Then I start digging again, more frantically, sinking further into the grave.
The first thing I uncover is a patch of flesh, visible beneath the clinging mud. A black rune inked onto the skin steals my breath. I clear more dirt, revealing the chest inch by inch. Even when I recognize the string of runes etched along his ribs, I refuse to believe it.
I bite down on my lip and keep digging until I expose his throat.
My heart shatters into pieces when I glimpse the curve of his jaw.
My bloodied hands claw at the dirt over his face.
I brush away the soil covering lips that once warmed mine.
Now they’re blue and cold as I trace them with a trembling finger.
Slowly, I reveal his nose, his closed eyes, his brow.
The soil has matted his hair, removing its shine.
His skin is gray, his features twisted in a grimace, even in eternal sleep.
It’s real.
It’s real.
My limbs go numb.
Everything inside me breaks. My heart stops beating, and I pray it never starts again.
A clap cuts through the still air, interrupting my grief.
“What a lovely performance! I wouldn’t expect anything less from Gaetano. He always did know how to create drama.”
I raise my head. There, between the neighboring graves, stands a woman. Her skirts are the color of soil and spread like tendrils crawling out of the graves.
I’ve dealt with enough frenemies in my life to recognize the evil behind a sweet smile. A textbook villainous bitch.
“…Madeline?” I whisper in a shaky voice.
Her gaze settles on Gaetano’s corpse. “Of course, he told you about us,” she says. “His obsession with me always ran deeper than his passion for magic. I’m not surprised by yet another one of his performances. Crafted to win my admiration, no doubt.”
I swallow my tears and gather the little strength I have left to straighten my shoulders. Gaetano wouldn’t want me kneeling before her.
She moves toward me with a graceful stride. Those tendrils extend from her gown, as if they’re siphoning something from the graves. I force myself to stand, even though my legs barely support me.
She stops at Gaetano’s grave. Pain crashes back into my chest the moment I glance at his body—his head and torso exposed, the rest still buried. My heart clenches at the thought that he died because of this fucking bitch.
“Don’t touch him!” I shout.
Madeline turns to me with a slightly raised eyebrow.
“Will you defend him with the same passion when he takes your life?” I flinch.
“The Black Joker’s curse isn’t complete, idiot.
When he told you to dig up his body, he forgot to mention one detail: it would stop the harvest of his soul and leave one more to claim.
Yours. Though I doubt he ever struck a deal with himself at all, or it was another illusion. ”
A muffled sound rises from the grave. I lower my gaze to the soil covering half of Gaetano’s body. A throbbing sensation pulses in my temples as I try to comprehend what I’m seeing. A hand breaks through the earth—black runes, facing upward.
I fall to my knees beside him. “Gaetano?”
His eyes open, and color returns to his lips. I feel the pain that light causes him, but he endures it. My tears sting, and my fingers clamp around his hand. The thought of letting go terrifies me. If I do, he might vanish back into the earth.
My touch seems to anchor him to reality. Those black irises lock onto my face with the same painful honesty he’s always shown.
He’s alive.
My heart races. Tears spill openly now, and I don’t mind that Madeline is watching.
His cracked lips part. “Nicole…”
“I’m here,” I whisper, already brushing soil off his chest. “I’ll help you.”
He shakes all over and his free hand gradually clenches into a fist, as if struggling to regain his sense of self.
“You shouldn’t have come…” Gaetano coughs. “You… dug up my body and brought me back. I didn’t finish the process…”
I don’t understand what he means, but I keep digging. He squeezes my hand. He’s weak, but he’s alive!
Madeline’s shadow looms over us. “You caught my attention, Gaetano,” her voice is chillingly flat. “Now take her soul and be done with it. Or I will do it for you.”
I stare at him. The fear in his eyes mirrors the one already nesting in my heart since the moment I saw him dying.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you…” he says.