13 Incense #3
Madame Noctra blinked, her painted expression faltering.
“I see. I see.” She closed her eyes again, but her tone changed.
It was lower now, more serious. A low hum vibrated from her throat as she spoke.
“The pain runs deep. Yes. It will pass. Demons are behind you now. They will not shape your future.”
Vaelira frowned. That seemed unlikely. Especially with what Elijah had planned.
The orb remained lifeless, nothing like the living pulse of her moonstone. She reached out.
Her fingers brushed the orb and her palm snapped down onto the glass of its own will. Pain tore through her hand, cold and biting. Her arm locked in place. She tried to pull away, but she couldn’t move. The cold surged up and into her shoulder, her neck.
A thick black mass roiled beneath the glass like smoke. It pulsed once. Then again, in sync with her thundering heartbeat.
Across the table, Madame Noctra gasped. Her eyes went wide and she raised a shaking hand to her mouth. Then she crumpled sideways into the cushions.
Vaelira cried out and tried to tear herself free, but her hand remained fixed to the orb. The cold was in her jaw now, pressing against her teeth, forcing its way higher.
A deep buzzing filled her ears, rising to a piercing shriek. A voice spoke. It cracked through her mind like splintering ice.
Gate breaker. Blood splitter. Unbind. Gate breaker. Blood splitter. Unbind.
A violent shudder rolled through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the voice from her mind, but the words kept repeating, over and over until there was nothing but that voice.
Then… warmth.
A glimmer, deep in her chest.
She latched onto it. Focused on it. Pulled it forward. Her palms prickled and the cold began to recede. She drew in one long breath and opened her eyes.
A familiar pale light shimmered in the air around her. It gathered closer, as if responding to her call, until it glowed beneath her skin. She stared in wonder, watching it hum within her, illuminating every vein. Then the pressure peaked and it snapped out like a whip.
The orb flew from her hand, slamming into the wall. It shattered upon impact, sending shards skidding across the floor. Vaelira fell backwards, gasping. Her hand throbbed, but the sharp pain had broken, only a touch of the ice still lingering under her skin.
She scrambled to Madame Noctra and pressed two fingers to her neck. Her pulse was steady, her breaths shallow. Vaelira stood, heart still pounding, and bolted out of the door. She needed to get help.
She spotted a mop of reddish-brown hair down the street. She moved towards it and found Fang and Ressa walking towards her. They quickened their pace when they saw her expression.
“What happened,” Ressa asked, reaching her first.
“Madame Noctra,” Vaelira managed, pointing back to the shop. “She’s collapsed.”
Fang let out a laugh and Ressa raised a brow. “Yeah. She does that sometimes.”
“When I was six,” Fang said, “she told me I was going to marry a Lord’s daughter and lose both legs in a bar fight.”
“That could still happen,” Ressa snorted. “Come on,” she said, grabbing Vaelira by the arm. “Let’s go get a drink.”
Vaelira nursed her ale. The fire at The Seven Squids crackled and warmed her skin but didn’t reach the frozen knot still lodged in her chest. Ressa and Fang had brushed off Madame Noctra’s fortune telling, but it still worried her.
“I don’t understand how she could have put that voice inside my head,” Vaelira said, staring into her drink.
Ressa and Fang stopped their conversation. “It’s an illusion,” Fang said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the smoke in there was more than just incense.”
“You think she drugged me?”
“Drugged is a strong word,” Ressa said. “Muddled your senses more like. Don’t dwell on it, she’s notorious for her dramatics. Even the palace hires her for events.”
Vaelira sighed.
“Come on,” Fang said, nudging her foot under the table. “What did she say to you anyway?”
“Something about blood and undoing things. I don’t really remember.”
Fang frowned. “That’s a bit dark.”
“Maybe it was a slow day,” Ressa said, shooting him a look. “She was probably bored. She doesn’t get many customers these days.”
“How come?” Vaelira asked.
“There’s been rumours of disappearances,” Ressa said. “People are on edge. Hearing some crazed woman rave about how many grandkids you’ll have or how many husbands fortunes you’ll inherit isn't a priority.”
“Yeah,” Fang agreed. “And there’s the whole magical side of it.”
Vaelira stiffened.
“Some people think she’s pushing the boundaries of what’s acceptable,” he continued. “Mages used to be hunted, you know? Pretending to wield that kind of power doesn’t sit right with most folk. Or so my Pa says.”
Vaelira sat back, nodding slowly. “Sure. I get that.”
What would they say if they knew she had those powers? Would they condemn her? Throw her to the guards and watch her execution from the crowd? Or would they understand and keep her secret? She didn’t know them well enough to tell and sharing that weight wasn’t worth being killed.
She spent the next hour nodding along to the conversation, but the echo of that voice still rang deep in her mind, trapped where no one else could hear.