Chapter 39 - Arwyn
ARWYN
Everything hurt. My stiff body ached, my flesh itching to get out of this chair.
My brain buzzed with all the secrets that were being laid bare.
I knew that physically I was trapped in this room, but I felt like I was floating somewhere outside it…
watching on, listening and taking in the world-shifting facts.
Kai had been coerced into sleeping with someone else to break Romy’s heart.
Verena had just turned my concept of family on its head.
Hector. Just thinking his name sent waves of pain through me.
Hector had given up the weapon we needed to destroy Bahmet, to bring Kai back from the dead.
I didn’t blame him considering it was my idea.
Hell, if I had to sacrifice something to save Hector from Bahmet’s clutches, I knew I would’ve traded the world without hesitation.
I only wished he had told me. But it was something I could get over, something we would overcome just like all the other obstacles laid out before us.
It was the other revealed secret that I couldn’t move past.
Verena, the aunt I never knew I had until days ago. She was Romy’s mother. Her birth mother.
Which meant Romy was… family. My blood. I had thought myself undeserving of anyone that I could call family. Hector was the closest to such a concept. My father was the only one, and I’d renounced him a long time ago, long before I even realised I had.
But Romy. The strong woman who’d welcomed me with her sunshine smile and open arms. Romy, the friend who I’d betrayed as much as Hector during the previous Witch Trials.
Romy… the obvious victim of this trial. Every secret had been a way to hurt her. Break her. I didn’t know what Bahmet’s reasonings were, but I trusted he had them.
Blood or not. Family, or not. A violent wave rose within me, an awareness that was so innate in my bones that I would’ve done everything I could to save Romy from any more pain.
If only the bindings around my wrists were weak enough to break. I would’ve reached out, taken her hand, and showed her that everything would be okay.
Romy could protect herself, I didn’t doubt that. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try to ease that task if I could.
“Three have passed the trial, and we have three more yet to face it.” Bahmet withdrew his hand from Hector’s shoulder, easing some of the tension that pressed down on my chest. “Shall we move on swiftly?”
No one replied.
“Surely I am not the only one enjoying this trial?” Bahmet joked, to himself considering the room couldn’t bear to utter a word to him. “Tough crowd.”
Hector hung his head, gasping for breath as he fixated on an unimportant point on the floor. Every few seconds he would mumble an apology. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
More pain jolted through my heart at his broken demeanour. And yet, I was still helpless to do anything but await my turn.
Verena hadn’t turned away from Romy’s direction, not once since she had spoken. Kai too. I felt the force of love, so brilliant and oppressive, from that side of the room.
Romy had gone dead still. Her fight had left her as soon as Hector stopped speaking.
“Arwyn Hopkin.” Bahmet came to stop in front of me, the thumbscrew steady in his hands. “I wonder what you have got to share to the group.”
“Me,” Romy hissed, cutting the demon off. She lifted red-rimmed eyes, and faced the monster near her. A woman scorned, without a fear in the world. “I want to go next.”
Bahmet chuckled. “Goodness, what a turn of events. Are you sure about that, dear?”
Romy’s jaw clicked, teeth grinding together.
Apparently, the determination in her stare was enough of an answer.
I wanted to plead with Romy to let me have my turn, but I knew it would be wasted.
That determination in her eyes… I recognised it.
It was the same look I saw on my face when I looked in the mirror.
Family.
The room held a collective breath as Bahmet began threading Romy’s fingers into the device. Before he finished, she shouted out her answer. “I confess.”
“You do?” Bahmet tilted his head to the side. “And what do you confess to, Romy Bailey?”
“To being a witch. I confess to dancing with the devil, lying with the darkness. I confess to being exactly what you accuse me of being.”
I pinched my eyes closed, not brave enough to watch Bahmet turn the screw and shatter Romy’s fingers. Counting my breaths, I anticipated a noise that just never came.
“Very good,” Bahmet announced, disappointment evident in the dip of his enthusiasm. “You pass.”
What?
“That is not fair,” Tomin screeched. I could’ve laughed if I had the energy.
“Care to explain how that is not fair?” Bahmet questioned my father with as little focus as one could muster. My father, as I figured out, was nothing but shit beneath Bahmet’s hoof.
“That was not a secret. That was not a confession.”
“Are you not the same man who once stood in this very position, facing down women who were left powerless in chairs, as you demanded them to confess for their sins?” Bahmet’s sudden fury shocked me as equally as it pleased me.
He snapped to my father, danger lurking in his demonic eyes.
“Are you not, Father Tomin, the leading Witch Hunter for hundreds of years… whose blind faith drove him to punish innocent souls for not conforming to the standards of your own belief?”
My father leaned forwards. Of course he did. He was not frightened of a demon when his life was equally as immortal. “They were your rules, demon. Not mine. Give a secret, and pass.”
“Loophole.” Hector’s voice rose up and over the room, a tidal wave that warmed my spirit.
He grinned weakly through his tears, despite everything that had happened.
“Kai said he would find a loophole, and Bahmet never told him that was impossible. This trial… like the others… are all made for witches. Based on your disgusting pursuits, Tomin. I’m surprised it took so long for you to figure it out. ”
Of course. The Confessing. This placement, the way it was set up, even down to the tool of torture that Bahmet used on us. It was all to make the accused person admit they were a witch. Whether it was true or not.
“Well then I confess,” Tomin shouted. “I confess to being a witch.”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Bahmet clicked his tongue.
“Unfortunately, that will not work for you. You, human, do not get the easy way out. There is something I wish for you to say to our devoted crowd. A secret we both know you are keeping. Something, I dare say, that is far more… delectable than anything shared thus far.”
I hated him. I hated the lack of fear on my father’s face.
The lack of care that he had played a part in hurting every single person he sat beside.
And, deep down, I felt responsible. I could only protect the people I loved, the family I never knew I had, or the coven I had been accepted into, without dealing with the root cause of our poison.
Him.
“Bahmet,” I said, voice clear as the intention within me. “I would like to go before my father.”
Maybe the demon sensed the violence that was about to happen. Maybe he could see into my eyes and know what feast I was prepared to offer up. He didn’t refuse me. I didn’t even flinch as Bahmet threaded my fingers into the device, and took a step back.
“The floor is yours.”
“Arwyn,” Hector called out. I didn’t dare to look at him in case it took me off my path. But the allure of his voice, the way it could make me walk through fire until my body was nothing but charred bone, was enough for my head to turn.
“You know how to pass now,” Hector said, cheeks tracked with paths made from his tears. “Please. Say the words.”
I couldn’t lie to Hector. Nor could I lie to myself.
Romy had given me an out, a loophole, for this trial. But I’d made a vow to myself. I had pain to cause, and for that I needed to welcome the concept myself.
I swivelled in my seat, as much as the bindings allowed.
“Dad?” I said, feeling weightless for a moment as our eyes met. “My secret is that I never ever loved you.”
Crack. Bones shattered, flesh popped. Warm blood erupted from the skin where my bone had protruded through. The pain was overwhelming, but it gave me some clarity at least.
“Wrong, wrong, wrong,” Bahmet sang as his gloved hands moved the device to my next fingers. His fingers smeared the blood from my shattered finger, making a mess of my torn and ruined hand. “Are you ready to try again?”
“Arwyn, stop it!” Hector screamed, the sound like the shredding of knives through soft flesh. “Don’t!”
It was useless to beg me to stop. Hector knew I was going to do this.
I sucked in a breath, pushed the pain down and pretended it was one of my well-crafted illusions. “My secret is that I never respected you, Dad. Not once. Even as a kid, especially when I was a kid, I looked at you like the pathetic excuse for a man that you were.”
Crack. I tasted blood as I sunk my teeth into my lower lip, refusing to cry out. I wouldn’t show weakness in the face of the man who tortured me my entire life… nor the demon who feasted off such emotions.
“Arwyn!” Hector pleaded, voice breaking beneath the weight of my name and the pain it carried. “No.”
I shivered, my body wrecked with vicious tremblings. I lifted my head to Hector, eyes meeting, and spoke. “I have more… secrets to say…”
Because these were secrets, just not the one Bahmet wanted to hear. Somewhere beneath my suffering, I didn’t even know what it was that Bahmet wanted from me. I didn’t care either. This was my chance to hurt my father… to give him an ounce of what he deserved.
The device moved again. I hissed through clenched teeth, looking up at the ceiling until every one of my veins throbbed.
Somewhere to my right, I was vaguely aware that Hector was struggling to get out of his bindings. But the pain of my two broken fingers sang through my body, distracting me. Drowning me. I gave in to it and let it sweep me away in the ravine of suffering.
I existed now, in this realm of suffering, and for some reason, my motivation was enough for me to keep opening my mouth. I spat out my secrets like the lashing of blades, not once taking my eyes off the man who raised me.
“There was a time I thought I existed solely to please you… then I realised that my only purpose was never to make you proud. My purpose is to see you suffer.”
Crack. “Wrong again.”
The next was my greatest lie. Not a secret, there was no point sharing those now. I couldn’t think straight enough to make them up. I knew if I lied, Bahmet would continue to break me, whilst I in turn broke my father. “I loved you.”
“Lie!” Snap. “Try again, Arwyn Hopkin,” Bahmet encouraged softly.
“I loved you.”
Pop.
“I loved you.”
Crack.
“I. Loved. You.”
Snap.
It continued like that until there was only a single finger left on my hand to shatter. Hector had screamed for me to put an end to this until his voice was nothing but a ruined breath of air.
Sweat coated every inch of my body. Every time I looked down I saw severed flesh, metal and blood. So much blood that it swam before my eyes, an optical illusion that warned me that my consciousness would not last much longer.
Beyond the prison I had forged for myself in this suffering, I felt the boots tugged off my feet by Bahmet. I had, in theory, ten toes to break… that was ten more lies to give. And I would have done it, if I hadn’t seen the single tear rolling down my father’s face.
I leaned back in my chair, giving in to the darkness, and smiled.
“I confess. To. Being a. Witch.”
It was over. Bahmet paused his attempts to fix the device around my toes. I kept my eyes closed, playing over the image of my father crying. It was beautiful, a picture I wished I was talented enough to immortalise for the rest of my life.
Maybe, once this was all over, I would commission the portrait to be painted. Hang it on the wall of my family home with Hector… the rooms full of the joy of the real love of a family…
Beyond my numbness, I heard Bahmet regard my father. It was his turn next. I didn’t even care to stay awake long enough to hear his truth. I’d done my damage.
Pleased with myself, I allowed the dark to claim me. At least there, I could dream. Dream of my broken father, his pathetic wet eyes, because nothing else mattered in that moment other than his reaction.
Believe it or not, but my words had hurt him. And that was better to me than any victory.