Chapter 5 Hector
HECTOR
Being unwantedly dragged into the shadows, teleporting god knows how many miles, and then being thrust back across time and space, really took the cake of being the worst fucking feeling ever.
Seeing Arwyn, however… that was different.
Once the tidal wave of nothingness receded, I was faced with Romy who was wide-eyed and screaming. Wisps of Arwyn’s darkness oozed from my body like smoke. Romy kept her hands to herself, balled into fists at her sides.
“What the fuck was that!” she bellowed.
I lost my footing, my legs as weak as jelly. The urge to vomit came thick and fast. I clamped my lips shut and refused it. Doing everything I could to steady my heart rate, I swallowed down the hot bile and forced myself to calm.
I was back in our apartment in the heart of London, that much was clear from the view of the familiar kitchen around me.
But there was no denying that I hadn’t been here only seconds before.
Arwyn—the imprint of his touch—was all over me.
My hands burned from the memory of him, my body aching for the poison fruit that he was.
“That,” I exhaled, head aching, “was Arwyn.”
Romy finally reached out for me, her hold comforting. The thought of doing anything to remove myself of the echo of Arwyn made the sickness in my gut worse.
I hated him, yes. But there was something more, a seed of betrayal to my own self-worth. And that bastard seed had set iron roots into my soul, refusing to budge.
“You’re going to need to be clearer than that, Hector. One second we were talking and the next you… well, poof. Just gone.”
“First, I need to sit down,” I said, the mention of disappearing making the universe rock beneath me.
In a matter of moments Romy had guided me into our living room, with its grand glass windows overlooking London’s skyline.
I practically melted into the deep-navy sofa, luxuriating my trembling muscles into expensive memory-foam cushions that smelled like one of Romy’s lavender sprays.
A cold glass of water was handed to me, with a half-eaten bar of chocolate from one of Romy’s not-so-secret stashes.
Between the sugar and the lavender spray, I could feel myself relax enough to tell Romy everything.
Her mouth was wide open as I recounted my short moments with Arwyn. I watched as a multitude of emotions passed over her face, from horror to sadness to a deep-rooted fear.
“This is terrible, H. It’s a miracle you’re still alive.”
“Correction,” I replied. “It’s a miracle he is still alive. I had a chance… I could’ve finished this.”
And yet, I didn’t.
“Regardless, he has potentially given us insight into the Hunters’ next attack. This is big.”
I took a large bite of chocolate. It coated my teeth, the caramel making my mouth thick as I added, “That’s if we believe him.
He is his father’s son, and is no stranger to lying.
He could be goading us with this alleged attack against the prime minister.
There is no saying it isn’t all part of some grand plan that we haven’t worked out yet. ”
Romy practically chewed on my accusation, plonking her butt on the seat beside me. “But his room was like a… prison, right? That’s what you said.”
I closed my eyes, replaying the moment before Arwyn cast me back into his shadows.
When I’d opened the door to that strange room captured in the years of childhood, I’d been greeted by a locked gate made of bars, and two armed guards stood outside of it.
All signs certainly pointed to Arwyn being locked up, but he was the all-powerful host to Bahmet—if he could teleport me across time and space, how were a couple of iron bars keeping him locked away?
“It could’ve all been part of his illusions,” I reminded, pained at the memory of the sheer amount of fakery that Arwyn had woven around the both of us. “Let’s not forget that he is well-versed with casting a fake image around him. I don’t believe him.”
“Listen, I’m not saying I do either…”
“I sense a but coming.” I shot her a look, proving my point.
“But,” Romy said, dramatically. “Not believing him is one sure way of standing back whilst the execution blade swings. If Arwyn is telling the truth then there is no point just standing back and letting a move against the witches proceed knowing we have the time to stop it, right?”
Body buzzing with unspent energy, and yet equally exhausted, I wanted to do something.
I had all these feelings sparking inside of my body; if I didn’t let them out I would surely explode.
“Then you can be the one to tell them. I don’t think the Coven will take kindly to me waltzing into the base and explaining that I’ve just had a one-on-one meeting with Arwyn Hopkin. ”
I regretted the bite in my tone the moment Romy didn’t reply. The room fell into an awkward, tense silence.
“I’m sorry,” I added quickly. Peering over to Romy, she was leant back with her arms crossed, her inner cheeks pinched between teeth as she chewed nervously at the tender skin. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Romy shrugged off my apology. “But you’re right.
I could go and warn the Coven and it would only lead to questions.
Eyes will start looking this way for you.
I can’t exactly walk into the White Tower and warn them about the attack tomorrow without putting weight behind my evidence. So, we are fucked then.”
“No,” I snapped, the cogs turning in my mind. “No, we aren’t. At least, we don’t have to be.”
“How so?”
I sat up straighter, glad for the rush of sugar in my bloodstream.
“Because I’m going to stop them, if the attack is real that is.
Arwyn said that the assault is a way to out the witches to the world.
So the best thing for witches is to actually stay as far away from anything relating to tomorrow’s assault.
As long as you aren’t there to stop it, the blame can’t be pinned on you, right? ”
I could see it on Romy’s face that she didn’t like my idea. “What if that’s actually what Arwyn wants? He needs… well, he needs you, right?”
Her eyes flickered down to my chest, but I knew the gesture was meant for the shard of Bahmet inside of me.
“Arwyn clearly has access to me,” I said. “If he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it. All this time I’ve been looking for a person who can snap his fingers and drag me to him.”
Saying it aloud only made me fixate further on his reasonings to teleport me to him.
“I get what you’re saying. However, I can’t shake that we are seeing this through the wrong lens.
What if Arwyn… the Hunters, have bigger plans for you?
” Romy said, sitting forwards quickly. “Hector, you can’t go and stop this alone.
I don’t like this at all, and you shouldn’t either.
The best thing to do is we all stay away from whatever is happening tomorrow… ”
“And let innocent people die?” I asked the obvious question.
Romy opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, but no sound came out. I wasn’t the pinnacle of good morals when it came to taking people’s lives. Romy was. She was innocent to the heart, not a bad bone in her body. And yet, we had both changed since the Witch Trials.
“Then we do something today.” Romy stood up abruptly. “Stop the prime minister from needing to attend the event or something. There are a million ways we… and I mean we, can stop this.”
“Sounds simple, do you have a direct line for him?” I asked.
Her eyes narrowed on me. “Not helping, H.”
I gave her an ‘I’m sorry again’ pout, before moving on.
“I think the only way we can stop tomorrow is finding the root of this disease and pulling it out. Father Tomin is the enemy.” It was on the tip of my tongue to add Arwyn’s name, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
“So, we continue our effort of finding him. If we can locate him again before tomorrow, then we can stop whatever he has planned. That’s if what Arwyn said can be trusted. ”
“We’ve already tried everything in the book,” Romy added.
“Scrying, locator spells and anything even remotely helpful in Eleanor’s grimoire.
Nothing has worked. It took Arwyn coming for you to even get close enough to do something.
I appreciate your optimism, but I hardly think we will have more success by tomorrow. ”
“This time is different,” I said, flexing my fingers on my lap.
“How so?” Romy asked, checking her phone which had just pinged with a message in her pocket. I could see she was momentarily distracted by whatever was on her screen; a frown furrowed her brow, the lines deep and worn. “For fuck sake.”
“What’s pissed you off?” I asked, leaning in, all thoughts of Arwyn’s blood and skin beneath my nails fading to the back of my mind.
Romy flashed the screen around, showing me a text that waited.
“A summons. I’m late for the morning meetings, and the Coven have just sent me a message to let me know they’re coming to get me.
” She paced the room, a shaken bottle of unspent nerves.
“I need to go before they get here and find you sitting on my sofa.”
“Go on then,” I said. “See if the Coven have any involvement in tomorrow’s parade.
Any information could help us. If there is nothing, you have authority to give the Coven something else to focus on.
Hell, lock them all up in the White Tower and make sure they can’t leave.
Anything to make sure the witches are nowhere near the prime minister tomorrow, okay? ”
Romy was nodding, but I could tell the words were going in one ear and out the other. She rushed out of the room, gathering bags and her belongings before running towards the door. “I’ll text you before I come home. If anyone knocks—”
“I ignore it,” I repeated the same thing I always replied when Romy was leaving me alone. “I’ve got it, I’ll be fine… just go.”
Romy paused at the door, hesitating as she turned back on me. “What if he… steals you away again?”
Her genuine worry for me worked into my bones and settled there. “Arwyn won’t do it again. Trust me.”
“You sound sure about that,” Romy said, eyes boring into me.
“I am,” I replied, never surer about something. “He’s scared of me.”
“Arwyn is many things, but I don’t think he is frightened of you. No offence,” Romy replied. I didn’t blame her, because she was right. “Just do everything you can to stay out of anymore trouble, okay?”
It wasn’t Arwyn who had recoiled from me, but the presence inside of him.
When I attacked Arwyn, he let me, hardly putting up a fight.
If anything he wanted me to hurt him, to gift out a punishment he clearly felt was justified.
But it was Bahmet who cringed from me, whose lingering darkness drew back like oil and water.
I couldn’t explain why yet, but I clung to the knowledge.
So, for peace and the need for Romy to leave before the Coven came barging through our door, I agreed.
“I’m not leaving until I hear you promise me,” Romy added.
“I’ll do my very best,” I lied.
Her expression hardened as she replied. “Hmm.”
With that, Romy left, locking the door from the outside to stop me from escaping on another escapade like last night. The silence in her wake was deafening, but not as all-consuming as the single thought roaring through me.
I had the means to scry and locate Father Tomin now. Because beneath my nails was the flesh and dried blood of his son.
Locked door or no, by sundown, I would rip the snake’s head off and leave the Witch Hunters squirming without their leader. But for that I needed a few items, and then this would all be over.