Chapter 49 #2
My heart plunged, and I shook with uncontrollable terror. The corpses moved quickly towards us as though they had not been dead only a moment before. Still, there was a stiffness to their movements, as if their joints were made of wood.
My throat closed up as the corpses came to a standstill before us. Amalie’s screams rattled the trees, while the others raised their swords.
“Resisting is ill advised,” crooned the Crow.
“You can’t harm us—those were the terms of our agreement,” I said, eying the corpses.
“Ah,” she said, sounding delighted. “But you see, I am not bound to your terms. You didn’t ask me to say the magic words.”
“How was I supposed to know I was meant to say the words? You never told me,” I hissed, like a kettle that had reached its boiling point.
She shrugged. “It must have slipped my mind. Oh well, now you know for next time.”
I was about to curse at her when the sound of a familiar, guttural howl stole my breath away. If I had been afraid before, I was petrified now. Footsteps rattled the forest ground and dread churned in my stomach.
“Take Amalie and run!” I bellowed at the others.
“Not without you,” Tarben yelled back, grabbing my arm.
“Tarben, you need to leave now!” I shouted, wrenching myself from his tight grip. I ran towards the tree that had kept me prisoner.
It had to be around here somewhere.
There. In a patch of blood-stained leaves that smelled like iron and damp earth lay the dagger that had nearly ended my life. I wrapped my hands around the hilt, still slippery with my blood.
I turned to see the corpses of the two slain maglocuni charging down the mound, towards where we stood in the clearing.
Their monstrous bodies moved rigidly, but it didn’t hinder their speed.
The sight turned my legs gelatinous. I could do nothing but stare in horror as they approached like harbingers of death.
Ferocious teeth bared, they began circling my friends. Like Magnus, their bloodshot eyes were lifeless. It made them more terrifying, if that was possible. But the worst part was that they smelled like the inside of Basia’s cottage—of rot and decay.
Amalie shook and sobbed from where she stood shielded behind the others.
Any shred of remaining hope fled from me as I took in the scene—Livia’s body gripped one sword and Magnus gripped the other.
Both corpses stood poised, ready to strike, while the maglocuni circled my friends hungrily.
We could hold our own against Livia and Magnus, but those beasts? We had no chance.
“On my command, they will attack. Now undo the wards,” said the Crow.
I glanced at my friends. Raw fear was etched on their faces.
“Don’t do it!” shouted Tarben.
There was no way out of this situation. My powers would not be enough to save my friends, not when we were against such odds. My eyes found the Crow, now standing between two trees. “I don’t know how,” I gritted.
“I beg to differ,” she said. “See, I suspect that your elevated power is the ability to sense and undo magical enchantments. Perhaps you could have even reversed the amulet’s effect on your mortal if you wanted to.”
It was Tarben’s turn to snarl at the Crow. “You did that?”
She snapped her head towards him. “Who do you think gave Livia the amulet? I couldn’t have the princess breaking the curse and ruining all my plans, now, could I?” To me, she said, “Now, do as I ask.”
I locked eyes with Tarben. He shook his head.
The Crow seemed to be losing patience. “Do it now,” she screeched. “Or I’ll have them tear out the little one’s throat first.”
Fear gripped my chest and squeezed the air out of my lungs. “No!” I cried. “I’ll do it—I’ll do as you ask. Just don’t harm them.”
“Go on then. I won’t ask again,” she said impatiently, motioning for me to hurry.
The clearing descended into darkness as patches of cloud passed over the moon. Closing my eyes, I ignored everything—the darkness, the sound of cries and snarls, the feel of the dagger in my hand. I blocked it all out and reached for the power in my core.
My magic felt the same. Warm. Comforting. Strong.
Reaching deeper into my power source, I burrowed and burrowed and burrowed. Sweat beaded on my forehead, my breathing became ragged, but I kept burrowing until—
I gasped.
My elevated power leaped with such exuberance it was as if it had been waiting a lifetime for me to discover it. So I summoned it.
Like spring water surging to the earth’s surface, power rushed through my veins. Then I felt it. A humming vibration like a swarm of wasps. The wards.
Reaching out, I could feel the pulse of the wards surrounding us.
In my mind’s eye, I saw them. A luminous mass of silver lines.
It was like being entangled in a complex spider’s web, with the cottage as the hub.
Unraveling it would be difficult, though not impossible.
I just needed to sever the right thread.
With a single thought, I directed my power. It purred, eager to bend to my will.
My eyes snapped open. “It’s done.”
“For your friends’ sakes, it had better be,” the Crow warned. She rippled, like a reflection in a lake. And then she vanished.
Almost instantly, a new figure replaced her. A figure who was wearing the same black robes; only now, her hood was down.
The Crow had long, thick, unruly black hair and too-pale skin, as if she had not seen the sun in years.
She was plain-looking with a heavy-set brow, a heavy-set jaw and a pair of loamy brown eyes that seemed to occasionally twitch.
The whites of her eyes had a yellow tinge to them, giving her the overall appearance of someone sickly.
What surprised me most of all were the glass-like wings on her back—she was of Sylph heritage.
When she spoke, her voice was even higher in pitch than it had been before. “Excellent work, daughter of Sarina. Now, hand me the grimoire. It’s time we get going—we have such exciting things to do together.” She extended her bony hand towards me.
My breath was tight in my chest. I was out of options. Unless I wanted to witness my friends being mauled to death, I had no choice but to go with her, and we both knew it. Dread coated my skin like a cold sweat.
With one final glance at Tarben, I bent down to retrieve the grimoire.
“The curse is broken. You cannot claim her,” came a familiar voice.
I jolted upright at the sound—it was impossible. And yet, sure enough, when I spun around, there she was.
My grandmother.