Chapter 22 #2
Smoke bubbled on the surface of Mora’s flesh, obsidian spreading over a luminous, golden brown.
Eager to do Castellan’s bidding. But her feet refused to move.
Her focus trained on the mob and the bodies littering the ground, thick streams of blood trickling between stiff limbs, dammed by broken branches and dried leaves piled on a packed layer of snow.
It was so much worse than she’d realized.
Dother had taught her violence. However many months they’d spent together, Mora had grown to understand pain.
Knew fear more intimately than perhaps she knew herself.
This... this was different. A rabid sea of hatred held the people in its currents, moving them to and fro until all they knew was rage.
Terror. Mora found herself hesitant to step forward, afraid of what may come her way once she entered the fray, no matter how hard her curse tugged on her bones.
The Halfling’s left eye went wide, fear coating the hazel color, while the other barely moved. It was nearly swollen shut. “We don’t know him!” she shouted. “All my love and I have done is protect ourselves. You left us no choice.”
He shook his head. “Your kind is violent and cannot be trusted.”
“Gods save us,” she breathed, swiping her hand through the air. The water was slow to rise to her call, slipping from puddles and pulling free from the snow. What was left on Mora’s cheeks lifted away, crystallizing before her eyes.
A rock slammed into the Halfling’s face, the crack so loud Mora flinched. As the woman gasped, her knees wobbling, it fell to the ground, bouncing on uneven cobblestones.
“Forbidden scum!” someone screamed.
A child.
A child screamed those abhorrent words.
Ice pellets hailed down upon them, the spray directed by the Elementalist’s shaking fingers. What hit the elderly man’s coat frosted, bits of white clinging to the fawn-colored material. He paled as it spread across his chest... but it stopped short of his throat.
“Looks like we’ve tired you out,” he said, laughing softly, adjusting his grip on the pitchfork. “You’ll pay for the lives you took today, Forbidden bit—”
His words morphed into an agonized gargle, blood spraying in the air as something pushed its way through his mouth.
It stretched and thickened, red gleaming on its dark brown surface.
Green buds appeared before they unfurled, vibrant leaves breaking free to flutter in the cool breeze, stretching toward the thick mass of clouds and smoke.
Mora gasped. It was a gods damned ash tree, the plant pushing out through cobblestone and forcing its way through the elderly man’s skull.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” a woman growled.
Black boots smeared with the deep red of a fresh kill crunched over bits of ash-stained snow as she ran to the Elementalist. “You okay, Jade?” she asked.
Despite the shadows of her hooded emerald cloak, the fury in her ruddy brown eyes burned into the crowd.
The Naturalist squeezed her raised fist tighter and the tree grew taller, trunk thickening.
An agonized groan from the open mouth of the dying man made Mora’s stomach sour.
Bones splintered and teeth rained down to plink on the icy ground.
The man’s body teetered, held up by the branches pushing through him, until they tore through so much flesh, little of his face remained.
Some of the crowd dropped their weapons and ran, but too many stayed. The Halflings could fight—would fight—but they’d fall eventually. Regardless, the two women faced the mob, their outstretched fingers flexing as they readied themselves.
The Aegist limped toward them, lifeless eyes staring blankly ahead. Blue sparks danced around his fists, moving over split knuckles and sinking into a weeping wound on his palm. But no shield formed. When he attempted to slip past, the Naturalist scoffed and slammed her hand into his chest.
“You’ve done enough!” she barked, dismissing him as he toppled over. He sprawled on the ground, ash and snow coating his torn yellow cloak.
“Imani,” Jade whispered, “I can’t...”
The Naturalist—Imani—slid in front of her, her cool ebony cheeks darkening.
Blood dribbled from a gash near her cheekbone, the cut deep, likely carved with a sharp blade.
“I know, angel. I’m tired too,” she said, reaching back to grip Jade’s hand.
She threaded their fingers and squeezed gently. “Run. I’ll hold them off for you.”
Jade shook her head. “I won’t leave you.”
A crack shot through Mora’s heart. She swallowed hard and forced herself to move, ignoring the thunder pulsing in her ears.
One look at Mora’s blood-spattered ivory cloak and Imani moved away, taking Jade with her. “What in the blazes?”
There was no time for introductions. “Stay behind me!” Mora’s tone was regal. Authoritative. Every bit the queen her mother had raised her to be.
And the Naturalist was having none of it. “Who the hell are you?”
Mora ground her teeth, holding onto the threads of her composure. The mob wouldn’t wait. Castellan’s wish plucked at her fractured ribs, taunting her. Making her hiss. Reminding her of what little power she had.
Tipping her head toward Imani, Mora said, “If you have any fight left in you, you can join me.”
Her gritted teeth gleamed. “I don’t need your permission.”
Mora didn’t deign to respond. Her hands shook at her sides, each slam of her heart so violent she nearly stumbled, but she made herself face the ravenous crowd.
“Are you another Forbidden or a foolish sympathizer?” a low male voice asked.
Mora’s attention flicked toward the sound, careening through the horde until they collided with deep blue eyes. Her breath caught.
The man sneered, red clinging to his cheeks. He pushed through the throng, thin lips curling, and all Mora saw was him.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t avert her gaze. Could hardly stand the way her limbs quaked.
The world faded as he neared, the brick walls of the town square shifting to the stone of the king’s chambers.
She whimpered. Ice pellets scraping on the ground beneath her boots as she inched away. It was Dother who donned a mocking smile, tapping his cleaver against the soft wool of his rust-colored cloak.
“Oh, Treasure, you think you can escape me so easily?” Dother taunted, clicking his tongue. “Our souls are entwined. You couldn’t claw me out if you tried.”
“No,” Mora whispered, nearly slipping on frozen ground.
“That wasn’t a yes or no question, woman.”
Mora blinked, eyes burning as the fire chewed on the bones of old storefronts, consuming her visions of gray stone. Azure darkened back to a deeper blue, Dother’s chocolate brown hair fading to a sandy blond. She wasn’t in Dother’s room. And this sniveling bastard wasn’t him.
She took a deep breath, grateful the winter air held no traces of citrus. When she inhaled again, hints of mint with splashes of summer rain and bits of pine found her, soothing remnants from her strange dream.
“Stay back!” she shouted, smoke dripping from her fingers.
Those gathered stared in horror while, behind her, Jade and Imani gasped.
The man cocked his head to the side, brows furrowing while darkness gathered at her feet, joining the char to stain the snow. “What kind of Forbidden are you?” he asked, pointing at the vapors with his cleaver.
“None of your business,” Mora spat. She tipped her head toward the dying flames.
“You hate Halflings so much, you’d burn your own buildings to spite them?
Winter won’t take pity on you.” Tendrils of obsidian curled around her fingers like serpents, eager to strike.
She lifted her hand, displaying her strange, dark power. “I won’t take pity on you either.”
His eyes flicked behind her, a smile tipping up on his cheeks. “I don’t think I need to worry about your pity.”
Mora felt someone at her back, but it was too late.
A sharp, cold pain twisted through her center as they plunged a dagger into her ribcage.
It slipped between bone. Sinking into her lung.
She staggered, groaning when they jerked the blade free, something warm running down her side to soak her clothing and spill onto the ground.
When she looked back, she saw the Aegist she’d come to protect, the blade in his hand saturated with her blood. Streaks of gold glinted in the crimson, sparkling every time a drop slipped free and splashed on his boots.
Too many questions bubbled on her tongue, but all Mora managed to wheeze was, “Why?”
He didn’t say a word, his dead-eyed stare looking through her at nothing... just like Jonah.
Somewhere in the distance, she swore she heard Elodie laugh.