Chapter 34
Another Familiar had been captured. He was tied to a chair, head bowed. Analise was terrified of trying this again, but after High Garden, she felt more in control of her magic. The voices she’d heard that night hadn’t come back, and she still hadn’t told anyone about them.
Ezra stepped into her line of sight. ‘Before you do this, you need to know something.’
She looked past him, catching sight of a head of black hair.
‘It’s your Familiar, Analise.’
Analise gasped, pushing past him and kneeling before the creature tied to the chair.
His eyes were closed, and he looked strangely peaceful.
She sat back on her heels, watching him, wondering who he was.
She’d never really thought about it because, until she’d learnt about the Order, she didn’t know there was a possibility he could be returned to himself, and still didn’t know if she could do it.
His eyes opened, focusing on her face. He said nothing, just smiled at her, tracking her as she stood, knees trembling and magic pricking her fingers. She could do this.
Jem took her by the arm and led her away a little. ‘Ezra says this one is yours.’
She nodded.
‘Can you do this?’
Analise nodded again. ‘Yes.’
‘Good, because we need to get this right, Analise,’ he said firmly.
‘I’ll get it right,’ she said, taking her place behind the Familiar.
He twisted his head to look at her with the same contemplative stare he’d always given her.
She took a deep breath, and placed her hands on his shoulders.
He stiffened and tried to squirm away from her touch, as if he knew what was coming.
Her magic surged and then, reality shattered as she plunged into the Familiar.
She would not let this one—her Familiar—die.
Magic speared through his body, gathering up the strangely arrested death that lived in him.
Analise called it to her, pulling it slowly, one cell at a time.
As she pushed through his body, that chorus of voices sprang to life inside her head, a soothing melody of whispers, giving her courage.
She threaded her magic through veins and blood vessels, through muscle and tendon and bone marrow; and from each part of him she drew out that darkness of death.
In her mind, she saw the diagrams she’d studied with Charles and imagined her magic travelling the circulatory system like lines on a road map so she followed it, death drawn to her, and she to it.
She left nothing behind, reaching the heart and extracting death with precision, until nothing remained except oxygenated blood flowing through arteries and veins.
The Familiar’s heart jolted. Analise withdrew, snapping back to herself so quickly it made her gasp. Death swirled through her, pieces of it trying to take root in her like it did the Familiar. Her magic caught it, absorbed it, and devoured it.
Analise’s knees were weak. She stumbled backwards, bumping into something warm and solid. Hands gripped her arms as she swayed.
‘I’ve got you,’ a voice murmured.
She couldn’t tell whose it was, but it sounded safe, protective, so she relaxed, leaning into that solid warmth. An arm snaked around her waist, holding her steady.
She tried to speak, but her tongue was thick and heavy. Her heartbeat slowed as the last pieces of stolen death slipped away.
‘I’m alright,’ she heard herself say. The arm around her was pleasantly warm, the fingers on her elbow gentle. She was shivering and took an unsteady breath.
Slowly, the room began to swim into focus.
‘Analise?’ Ezra’s voice in her ear.
She nodded. ‘I’m alright.’ Her vision cleared. The Familiar was slumped over. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No, no, no, no …’
Lira crouched before the Familiar, peering up into his face. Her expression gave nothing away, until she looked up at Analise and smiled. ‘You did it.’
‘I did?’ Analise moved away from Ezra, going to stand in front of the Familiar on legs that didn’t feel like they belonged to her.
Even slumped over, she could see he was breathing.
Lira stood and gently tipped the man’s head back.
He was unconscious. Skin pale, shadows dusting the flesh beneath his closed eyes, but there was colour in his cheeks and lips.
It was a human face.
Analise breathed a sigh of relief. Lira untied the man, then stepped back as Tobias and Charles lifted him from the chair and carried him from the room.
The walls began to move.
‘Analise?’ Lira’s voice was far away as a wave of exhaustion began to crest over Analise’s head. She swayed where she stood. Something moved in the corner of her eye as blackness filled her vision.
Analise’s breathing was heavy, her mind foggy as she slowly came to.
She blinked, tried to sit up, and failed, her limbs liquid.
It was easier to sleep but there was a face with dark sockets for eyes and hands that grabbed at her throat.
A man in a white suit, that beguiling smile that spoke of promises that frightened her.
My beautiful death witch.
Gasping, Analise bolted upright, ripping the bedclothes free. Terror burnt the back of her throat.
‘Analise?’
Hands on her arms, manacles around her wrists.
‘Analise, you’re safe, you’re safe, God, stop thrashing. Ezra, help me!’
Arms slid around her, locking her in place.
A voice in her ear, one she knew.
‘It’s alright, it’s alright. I’ve got you.’
I’ve got you.
Analise sniffed, and stopped fighting as gradually, the world around her sharpened. She was in her room. Lira, eyes wide, was crouched on the bed before her. Slowly, she released her hold on Analise’s wrists and sat back.
The arms around Analise’s waist felt nice. She swallowed the pain in her throat and slumped against a wall of warmth. Misshapen fingers rested on her stomach. Ezra. She closed her eyes.
‘Analise?’
‘I’m okay,’ she croaked.
Lira climbed off the bed and fetched Analise a glass of water. Once she’d drunk it and Lira had taken the glass from Analise’s limp hand, Ezra moved away, stuffing a pile of pillows behind her.
Their eyes met.
‘Thank you,’ she managed.
‘Hungry?’ he asked.
‘A little.’
He went to get her some food and after he was gone, Lira cleared her throat.
‘He hasn’t left your side, you know.’
Analise licked dry lips. ‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘Two days.’
‘Two days?’ The curtains were drawn, the darkness warm and peaceful. Analise felt wrung out like an old dishcloth, but her head was slowly clearing.
‘I think,’ Lira said softly, ‘that he was worried about you.’
When Analise didn’t respond, Lira went on. ‘He caught you before you hit the ground. I’ve not seen anyone move that fast. And I’ve definitely not seen anyone that angry before.’
‘Angry?’ Analise frowned. She couldn’t remember that. Everything after the Familiar’s face was fuzzy.
Lira nodded. ‘He called Jem all sorts of horrible things—all of which my brother deserved, to be honest. He shouldn’t have pushed you. I was mad, but Ezra was furious. He’s a little scary when he’s that angry. He carried you up here and he hasn’t left this room. He must be busting for a piss.’
Analise couldn’t even manage a grin at the comment. ‘He expects me to kill him,’ she whispered. ‘How can I do that without knowing if I can bring him back? How can I, when …’
Lira squeezed her hand, then opened the curtains. Warm light speared into the room. Analise blinked.
‘Sorry,’ Lira said. ‘I can—’
‘No, leave them open,’ Analise said. There had been enough darkness in her head.
Ezra returned with a steaming bowl, carrying it over to her. She looked at him, feeling oddly dazed. His clothes were rumpled, there were shadows beneath his eyes and his hair was messed up, like he’d been pulling at it. He passed her the soup; his fingers curled around hers, then withdrew.
‘I’ll let the others know you’re awake,’ Lira said softly, and slipped out.
Analise kept her eyes on Ezra. ‘Lira says you—’
He shrugged. ‘Not a problem.’
He'd sat by her bed for two days. He’d carried her here. He’d caught her when she stumbled, raged at his friend out of worry for her …
Analise cleared her throat, trying again. ‘Ezra—’
‘I thought you were dead.’ His voice was low and flat.
‘I’m okay.’
‘I thought you were dead,’ he repeated, as if the idea of her dying was the worst thing he could possibly imagine. She wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. She dropped her eyes to her bowl, watching the steam curl from the soup. The smell of it was almost overpowering, but she made herself eat some.
‘What happened to the Familiar?’ Analise asked as Ezra sat on the edge of the bed.
‘Alive and back to his human self. Lira says he has no memory of being what he was. The last thing he remembers was a man in a white suit sitting beside him in a bar.’
‘Asmael,’ Analise breathed—the face from her nightmares flashed her a smile. ‘Did he say why he chose to become a Familiar?’
‘John—his name is John,’ Ezra said. ‘He can’t remember a thing. Lira and Tobias took him home. He’s back with his family.’
‘Oh, well, that’s good.’ She’d wanted to see him before he left. After seeing him nearly every day for years, she felt a strange connection to him. Part of her was disappointed he had no memory of her, while the other part was happy she’d been able to save him.
Ezra was staring at her.
‘You didn’t have to stay here for two days.’
He looked away, then stood, holding his hand out for her bowl. She passed it to him, not knowing what else to say. After a moment's hesitation, he managed a smile. ‘I’m glad you’re alright, Analise. I’ll let you rest.’
He was gone before she could tell him to stay.