Chapter 26 #3
I freeze and try to stifle a sob, cupping my hand over my mouth.
“Now, sweet Yara, should we show the Queen of Daramveer what happens when you betray me? Should we really give her a show?” Malachi walks around the couch and drags his finger down her arm.
He snaps his fingers again, and Yara stands abruptly, her body barely able to remain upright from the wobble in her legs. Her long white hair falls beside her, with a few stray strands crossing her face, and Malachi moves each piece like a predator toying with its prey.
“He’s controlling her, Silas,” I say in my mind. “Don’t move.”
I watch Silas barely nod out of the corner of my mind.
“You aren’t going to make her fight, Malachi,” Silas rages, but remains unmoved. “Don’t be ridiculous. Let her go.”
Silas also realizes that if either he or Larkin lunges, one of us will die, and he’s right about that.
“You are correct, Silas. There won't be any fighting today. In fact, there won’t be a struggle at all. I admit that takes away some of the fun.”
Malachi reaches behind his back and pulls out a dagger.
Tears flow continuously down Yara’s face as she stares at me, her dark eyes now bloodshot, filled with terror. I don’t break my gaze from her. I rack my brain to think of a plan to get her over to us and away from Malachi, but everything I can think of puts us all in danger.
“Grab the dagger, Yara,” Malachi orders.
She hesitates and grits her teeth. Even with him controlling her, she tries to resist the order, but it’s too much. Her trembling hand reaches for the blade, wrapping her delicate fingers around the hilt.
Malachi lets her take the blade, and for a second, I wish more than anything that she would drive the dagger into his heart—if he even has one. Yara’s arm drops to her side under the added weight, and she remains frozen, clutching the dagger.
“Good girl.” Malachi pats her head and turns his gaze back to us.
His eyes convey an unsettling calmness, as if he’s been plotting this for far too long.
“Malachi, what are you doing?” Larkin steps forward.
I grab his arm and squeeze my eyes shut, praying Malachi doesn’t give the order for the Travelers around us to attack.
Larkin freezes as an icy breath chills his neck.
The invisible creature lurks close behind, revealing its presence.
Larkin glances sideways, and Silas realizes that we are outnumbered and have fallen into an unfortunate trap.
We are completely surrounded by death in every aspect.
“Please, Yara, drop the blade,” I beg.
Yara attempts to unfurl her hand, but the hilt remains stuck to her hand.
“I can’t, Briar,” she cries. “I want to, but I can’t.”
Malachi leans in and kisses her cheek. “Oh, she’s right. She won’t be doing that.”
Tears stream down my cheeks as Silas takes my hand to steady my shaking. He remains strong, but even through my trembling, I can feel a slight quiver in his. Silas understands that his father is insane, and he knows better than anyone right now the lengths to which he is willing to go.
“Stop this fucking show. Let her leave.” Silas’s shadows pulse in a dark threat. “She has nothing to do with this.”
Malachi whispers something in Yara’s ear, and a sob escapes her throat.
I squint my eyes to try to read any words escaping his lips, but I can’t make anything out other than dead.
“I’m sorry, Briar. I should have never involved myself,” she cries. “I was just trying to help.”
“Just stay quiet,” I say. “We are walking out of here, together.”
“When I’m gone, look for where the light illuminates. Look where the light guided you that night. Search where you ended up.”
Malachi snatches her arm, ordering her to stop speaking, “Enough.”
“Don’t say that, Yara. You’re going to be fine.” I assure her, but my words fumble out. I ignore the message, trying not to draw attention to her words. “Just drop the dagger and walk over here.”
Look where the light guided you.
“How dare you lie to her right now, Briar?” Malachi huffs. “How will people ever trust you if you just continuously lie?"
He pulls Yara closer by the waist, and I clench my fists.
Malachi buries his face in the nape of her neck, and she attempts to recoil from his touch.
He reacts to her dismissal with a huff of disgust, snapping his head away and loosening his grip around her waist. My heart pounds like thunder, and I realize our time is short.
I glance at Larkin; his eyes are wide, filled with fury and distress.
“Alright, sweet Yara, it’s time,” Malachi orders. “Just like I told you.”
He snaps his fingers again, and Yara slowly raises her arm, fighting with everything she has to resist the torment in her mind, and brings the dagger up to her throat. I freeze, my entire body trembling. I can hear Yara’s rapid breathing from across the room.
The darkness inside me pounds against my chest, and I do everything I can to resist it. If I move, we will all die, but if I stay still, Yara will die.
A dark angelic voice snakes into my mind, “Don’t move, my vessel. He will kill us.”
The trembling blade moves to the center of Yara’s throat, and she presses harder into her beautiful skin with each passing second.
“Don’t be shy,” Malachi whispers.
A small bead of blood moves down her neck, staining her shirt.
She mouths to me, “I’m sorry.”
“Malachi, I swear to the Gods, order her to stop right now,” Silas screams. “Stop!”
“This is what happens when you cross me.” Malachi’s voice takes on a sinister tone. “I feel no regret—no remorse—and I’d do this a hundred more times to prove a point.”
I can’t blink—I can’t move—as I watch in horror as the blade presses harder into her skin. My feet control me, and I take a small step in her direction, desperation filling my core to stop this—to save her.
“Let this be an excruciating reminder,” Malachi looks directly at me, “that I can and will continue to haunt whomever I want.”
Larkin grabs my arm, and the icy breath moves my hair into my face.
A low growl rattles my ear, and another tear rolls down my cheek.
I quickly glance at the door and see Maines peeking through the slit.
Her icy blue eye catching all the darkness and chaos pouring from the room.
I shake my head for her to stay back and tucked into the hallway.
Malachi turns his head toward Yara to watch every second of what he’s caused. He traces the side of her face gracefully, studying her beautiful features.
“Now, Yara.”
The world around us pauses.
Uncaring this time of the creatures, uncaring of what will happen to me, I move. It doesn’t matter; I need to help her. I spring forward. A desperate scream leaves my lips, but I’m too late—I’m always too late.
The sharp blade presses into her skin a final time and rips across her throat by her own hand, controlled by Malachi. The horrible sound reverberates through the room.
Flesh slices, and blood gushes down her torso like a flowing river. The familiar smell of gore stings my nose as I fly forward in an attempt to stop her.
A gurgled scream leaves her mouth, and Yara’s body slumps to the ground with a thud that rattles the kingdom around us.
I crash to the ground next to her, my hands desperate to grab her.
I pick up her broken body and press it against mine as tightly as I can.
The warmth of the bright blood swallows me, and I push harder, praying this is all another nightmare that I’ll wake up from.
I frantically move her down to my legs and pray that I can somehow save her.
She begins to choke in my lap, blood spraying on my face, and I can’t help the tears that fall onto her face. Her eyes flutter between open and closed, and I know she’s fading. She’s losing too much blood. Her hands clasp around her throat, and I pull her back into me.
“I’m so sorry,” I cry. “I’m so fucking sorry, Yara.”
I rock back and forth, letting my cries fill the room in an attempt to drown out the sounds of death under me.
I press my hand against her neck as hard as I can in a poor attempt to stop the blood from flowing out.
No matter the amount of pressure, the gash is too wide and too deep, and my hands become covered in blood as quickly as it leaks from her.
Yara’s eyes open one last time, and I watch the beautiful light in her dark eyes vanish.
No.
Oh, Gods.
“No. Please,” I scream one last time.
“She’s gone,” Kalix’s voice whispers in my mind. “You must fight.”
I hear a loud crash behind me, and I know Silas and Larkin lunged with me, ready to fight to the death, but I don’t care right now.
“Get. Up,” Kalix’s sinister voice demands.
Dark shadows and a blinding light fill the room in a chaotic dance of power. A strong wind whips my hair in all directions around me and Yara. Thunderous booms echo around me, but my hearing is muffled. The shouts are muted.
My world feels dull, my senses numb, and something within me fractures.
Blood once again drenches me, and my body turns a terrible shade of red—this is real. The gore I’m seeing is real.
Before I know it, her body stops twitching in my hold. I hesitantly look down, knowing I will regret what I’ll see.
Her face is frozen in time, never to age again, and her eyes are forever closed. I know there’s no use in asking her to open them; I know they won’t.
But I still catch myself whispering, “Open your eyes.”
Even covered in blood, she looks peaceful. Released from Malachi’s hold, and on her way to the darkest realm, where she can dance unbothered for all eternity.
I feel the change take place. I close my swollen eyes and let the darkness bubble up into my chest, throat, and mind. I don’t force the power down, I welcome it, and I swear I hear a sinister laugh in the breeze.
“That’s it,” the Great Wiitch whispers.
When I open my eyes, I feel the shift, as I realize my autumn gaze is now as lifeless as Yara, who lies beneath me.
I grasp the dagger from her cold, limp hand and hurl it as hard as I can.
Directly toward Malachi’s head.