24. Mastery of Fear
MASTERY OF FEAR
Alex
When we’d escaped from Raven Hall, the fog hadn’t been as thick and strong as it was today.
It pressed against my chest, making breathing difficult, which was curious considering my breathing was slow compared to that of living humans.
The air felt like a slimy, wet blanket on my skin, and the smell of rotten wood lingered in the air.
And fatigue plagued me. Each step required a ridiculous amount of energy.
The snakes were also larger and faster, their bodies more solid. Irene quivered every time they wriggled out of the fog.
Darius formed golden symbols in the air, but whatever he was trying to accomplish, nothing happened. The fog remained thick and oppressive.
“You can’t lift the fog, can you?” I made sure Irene was close to me.
He kept drawing symbols. “I’m trying, but dark magic is difficult to reverse. And the fog is draining me. The best I can do is to keep the snakes at bay, but I don’t know for how long.”
“Is dark magic stronger?” Irene asked.
Darius looked affronted. “For those uninitiated, yes. Its weakness lies in its strength. The energy it takes is stolen, not willingly provided. You can’t build anything lasting by forcing it.”
I swatted away a tendril of dark fog. “I may be thick—”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he grumbled.
I ignored him. “But your explanation doesn’t make me understand whether there is hope or not.”
Golden light flickered around him before dimming.
“Hell’s bells. I’m tired.” He blew out a breath and bent over. “There is always hope. It’s that sometimes hope is a choice.”
We slogged forwards, covering only a few yards in several minutes. The fog hindered our movements and consumed our strength. A human would die in a moment.
“Oh, no.” Irene was wheezing too. “The plants.”
I cast a slow glance around. Through the fog, I caught glimpses of dry bushes, dead flowers, and burnt ground. The leaves of the great sycamore had turned the colour of ink, and half of its trunk was flaking.
Anger flared in my chest at the thought the majestic tree might be damaged forever. It was beautiful and ancient, and I’d sat under its protective canopy the first time I’d seen Raven Hall.
The closer we walked to the mansion, the more difficult moving became, and the bolder the snakes were. They flew past us inches from our heads, arms, and legs.
Darius’s light had vanished altogether, and the fog closed in on Irene and me like a heavy drape.
“I can’t see Darius.” Irene’s shoulder brushed mine.
I didn’t shiver. I didn’t have the right to keep being frightened of touching her. Besides, she was right. Darius was gone.
“Darius!” My voice sounded muffled to my own ears; it bounced back to me. No answer. “Stay close to me.”
We proceeded onwards. The ground was crunchy and unstable under my boots. My legs seemed to be tree trunks. Irene’s heartbeat was the only sound breaking the dense silence. The bloody fog was so thick that I could grow turnips in it.
The snakes floated in and out of view, going through the fog like earthworms would slide into the soil. Some were as thin as my finger. Others were as thick as my leg.
A snake wrapped itself around me with its strong grip, and visions of Irene dead, of me killing her, of me draining Darius filled my mind. They flashed vividly before my eyes in all their horrific glory.
A groan of pain was torn out of me both because the snake’s touch was painful and because the visions seemed real, like memories.
Had I attacked Darius? Had I killed him? Had I hurt Irene?
I rubbed my temples, focusing on where I was. Those weren’t memories, but they might be the future. No. I refused to believe I was capable of draining those I loved. Hope was a choice.
“Alex.” Irene’s panicked voice brought me back to reality. “There are too many.”
A choking sensation seized my throat. I had to force those visions out of my head. Irene had been stabbed once because I’d lost focus. Not again.
More snakes leapt through the fog. They didn’t have eyes, only a toothless, gaping mouth that wasn’t particularly frightening.
But their touches triggered the most terrifying and dark thoughts, like me slaying Irene out of bloodlust, me killing everyone in Raven Hall, or me butchering the great sycamore.
I held her hand on instinct. If one of the snakes snatched her away from me, I would bring down the damn mansion brick by brick to find her. I braced myself for the familiar assault of fear and disgust, but apart from a light tremor, nothing happened. The fear of losing her was greater.
She laced her fingers through mine and gripped my hand harder than she would have done a moment ago.
“I hate those snakes.” She hugged my entire arm when a snake swished past her.
I sucked in a breath as a chill slithered down my back.
But I forced the discomfort down. The humiliation and shame of the way I’d behaved with Irene gave me the energy to control my reaction.
When I thought of what I’d done to her, using the power of the bond to order her, I wanted the fog to take me.
She pressed herself against me.
“I’m sorry.” She jumped back, but I took her arm and pulled her closer.
“Don’t wo-orry,” I stammered. “I don’t want to lose you.” And I wasn’t talking about the fog.
She came closer. “Neither do I.”
A smell similar to that of rotten mushrooms hung in the air. The front door came into view through a narrow opening in the fog. When we’d almost reached the front step, a large snake coiled around us. Irene shouted as its spirals grew tighter.
The more she screamed, the thicker the snake grew. She was likely seeing horrific visions. The snake coiled around me as well.
The oppressive sensation became so strong I feared my bones might snap. It was my transformation all over again. The pain, the burning skin, the bones breaking, the fear. Visions of the fever hospital tormented me.
Sweat soaked my shirt. I gnashed my teeth as agony sliced through me. I was so tired that I wanted to give up and collapse to the ground.
What happened to me didn’t matter. I had to protect Irene. I forced the visions out of my mind, focusing on Irene, her smile, and the happiness she brought into my life.
She kicked and squirmed, and the snake thickened. Desperation and agony rang out of her screams. She waved her hands and slapped the snake, making matters worse. The smoky beast grew larger and stronger.
“It’s fear.” I swatted the snake away. “Try to relax. The snakes are made of fear. The more frightened you are, the stronger they grow.”
She gripped my hand and arm harder. “I can’t…”
“Close your eyes.”
She squeezed them shut. Her breath came out in quick pants. I caressed her cheek, gritting my teeth as my own fear surged. The snake aiming at me became wider. But I wanted to calm Irene. I wanted her to trust me, and the fear of losing her was bigger than any other worry.
I trailed my fingers over her cheek, jaw, and neck. “Think about something else.”
I loved her soft and rosy skin, the happiness of holding her, and the way she cared about others. I loved how patient she was with me, how caring. I loved how strong she was. I loved her.
“I love you, Irene.”
She flung her eyes open. Our bond pulsated faster, pulling us closer.
“This is hardly the most romantic moment to tell you.” I laughed nervously.
“But it’s true. I’d wanted to tell you for a while, and like a fool, I searched for the perfect moment to tell you.
But there’s no perfect moment. There’s only the perfect woman.
I would do anything to make you happy. I’m so ashamed of what I’ve done.
You’ve forgiven me so many times. I have no right to beg for your forgiveness one more time. But I am.”
“Alex.” She leant into my palm, and the only sensation I felt was the softness of her cheek and the immense love for her.
Our bond spread light between us.
“I don’t want to lose you. Tell me what I can do to make you stay.”
She tentatively cupped my cheek, and I trembled hard, but I refused to give in. She deserved all my strength and focus. The snake pointing at me started to grow larger, but then it shrank, and its movements became less fluid.
“I don’t want to leave you,” she said. “Never.”
I dipped my head and captured her mouth in a long, lingering kiss. She hugged me fiercely, pressing her body against mine. I waited, expecting a new tremor to course through me, but what came was a little quiver that did nothing to take me away from her.
The snake coiling around us dissolved and became nothing but a smoky trail, and the weight in my chest lifted.
I laughed, a happy, bubbling laugh, right when a ray of sunlight shone through the fog for a moment. I enjoyed its warmth and the way it made her hair flicker with gold.
Irene rested her cheek on my chest and wrapped her arms around me.
I kissed the top of her head. “I would love to stay here—”
“In the fog?”
“As long as you’re with me, even the fog is perfect, but we’ve lost our mage, Cara is who-knows-where, and the house is full of snakes.”
“That’s not an incentive for me to go inside.”
“I agree but consider this.” I kissed her again, more fiercely. “We know how to defeat the snakes.”