21 Petals #2
The demon’s grin widened and Vaelira hurled her fire, a scream tearing painfully from her throat.
Power slung itself from her arm, slicing the air like a whip and striking the demon around the stomach, slamming her against the wall.
The flames pinned the demon there, Vaelira holding them in place by sheer will alone.
She stalked closer, snarling and spitting at the demon, the fury spiking her blood, the flames flaring with it.
The girl’s eyes went wide, all humour vanishing from her innocent face, and Vaelira almost let go, but the virtuous expression twisted and the demon’s laughter boomed through the alley, the sound perverse coming from such a small child.
A hushed voice spoke, unearthly cruelty twisted into each word.
“Binder’s blood will break the lock...” A low, rasping chuckle.
“Unbind the chains.” The words slithered into her ears, quiet enough that she almost doubted she’d heard them.
The moonstone seared her hip, as if screaming for her to run.
The ribbon at the end of the girl's golden braid caught fire, curling at its ends then withering into ash.
Her hair followed, sizzling and smoking before catching, a blaze around her pale face, illuminating every ridge of black veins that pulsed beneath her skin.
Still, the demon grinned, even as skin began to bubble and blister.
Vaelira’s vision blurred, the sharp scent of singed hair and scorched flesh filling her nose.
She swayed.
Tilted.
Shrill crows of manic laughter descended with her into black.
Vaelira awoke to the sharp scent of citrus and the soft glow of candlelight.
She turned slightly, seeing a hazy glass of water on the bedside table.
Above it, a hand hovered, squeezing half a lemon, the pale drops falling into the glass.
They hit the surface with tiny splashes, spiralling down, curling like threads of light through the water.
She blinked. Willem stood over her, his black hair held back from his face with a leather strap. He gave her a tight-lipped smile and sat in an armchair beside the bed, picking up one of his knives and rubbing it clean with a thick cloth. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve felt better,” she rasped. She pushed herself upright, squeezing her eyes shut against the throb in her temples. She reached for the glass. The water was icy and the lemon cut through the fog. “Where am I?”
“My room. Elijah and I brought you back while Erryn and Axel cleaned up. They should be back any minute.”
Vaelira made to rise, but Willem stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. “Give it a minute.”
She nodded, settling back into the soft pillows. “You saw?” she said.
“I saw.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
“We all have secrets, Vaelira.”
She closed her eyes. At least he didn’t hate her.
“At first,” he said carefully, “I saw myself in that girl. A child taken from New Town and turned to whatever dark deeds those bastards wanted her for. But the dress, the hair...”
Vaelira swallowed painful. “I thought the same thing. She was noble.”
“Still innocent though,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.
A door slammed downstairs, followed by heavy footsteps and raised voices. Vaelira groaned, swinging her legs off the bed. She stood and waited for the world to steady before following Willem into the dimly lit hall, stopping on the landing as Erryn’s voice rose from downstairs.
“You should have told us!”
“What difference would it have made?” Elijah.
“She could be the one summoning them!”
Vaelira met Willem’s gaze. He shook his head slightly. She gave him a grateful smile.
“Did it look that way tonight?” Elijah asked.
“You tell me. You seem to have all the answers.” Erryn’s voice dropped to a murmur. “You’re such a hypocrite.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You scolded me for giving her my token, then handed her the crest like it meant nothing!”
“It’s not the same. The crest doesn’t grant access to the palace.”
“So, you don’t trust her?”
“That isn’t what I’m saying!” Elijah snapped. “You’re twisting my words, like always.”
“You trust her with the crest but not us with the truth. I’d think we’ve all earned that by now, or do we still not meet your impossibly high standards?”
Vaelira peered over the railing. Elijah stood tense, hands balled into fists. Even from here, she could see the muscles working in his jaw, his neck. Erryn stood out of view.
“How do you know this isn’t part of some elaborate plan?” she asked, softer now. “Infiltrate the crown. Make the prince fall in love…”
Vaelira’s face burned. She didn’t meet Willem’s eye.
Elijah’s hands slowly unclenched and his shoulders sagged. “I went to her. She didn’t know anything.”
“Or maybe that’s exactly what she wants you to think.”
Elijah’s voice cracked. “Her brother was possessed, damn it.”
Silence. Then he sighed, walking out of sight towards the dining room.
He lowered his voice, and Vaelira had to strain to hear.
“A demon killed him, took his body, then tried to kill her. I was there. I beheaded him, Ryn. Right in front of her. I’m telling you she isn’t a part of this, at least not in the way you think. ”
Erryn didn’t speak.
Willem placed a hand on Vaelira’s shoulder. She realised she was crying and wiped her face quickly.
“You feel betrayed,” Axel’s voice came from the dining room. “I do too, but you saw her tonight. That rage wasn’t for show.”
“He still should have told us.”
“Can you blame him for trying to keep her safe?”
Vaelira closed her eyes. If she had told them from the beginning, they wouldn’t be turning on each other now. Then again, if she had, she might already be dead.
Willem gave her a gentle nudge, and they descended the stairs together.
Erryn stood braced against the doorway to the dining room.
Axel sat at the table, rubbing a hand along his jaw.
Elijah leant one hand against the mantle, staring into the barren fireplace.
He looked more exhausted than she’d ever seen him. No one spoke.
Axel cleared his throat. “You’re up. That’s good.”
Vaelira felt the considerable weight of Erryn’s gaze as she stepped past and slipped into an empty chair. Willem took the seat beside her and Erryn sat across from them, her movements rigid.
“Did we get the relics?” Vaelira asked. Her voice was quiet, yet still too loud in her ears.
Axel nodded. “Only two, but we got them.”
Her throat tightened. That was two attacks they’d prevented, and the only cost was the silence that now lingered between them. “The girl?”
“The fire burned whatever was left.”
Vaelira swallowed. The girl’s family would have no body for a pyre. She didn’t bother wiping away the tears this time.
“Why waste power on a child?” Erryn murmured.
“Practice?” Axel guessed.
Willem shook his head. “For what? They were probably using her for the convenience. Who would suspect a child of being involved in something like this?”
“And the veins?”
“Throw up a hood, only go out at night. It’d be easy for her to pass by unnoticed.”
Vaelira’s felt sick at their words. Another innocent, manipulated, killed, all to serve the summoner's purpose.
Why hadn’t the demon tried to kill her, like the one in Anhaven had tried to? It made no sense, and the question knotted in her gut, left unanswered.
“You brought her peace,” Elijah said, capturing her gaze. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “You were perfect.”
The words were like a golden dagger to her gut. She said nothing. The scent of scorched flesh still clung to her clothes, the image of the ribbon still burned in her mind.
She wasn’t perfect. She’d killed a child and let the rage use her like a weapon.
Elijah kept staring, as if trying to figure out what else she might be capable of.