Chapter 5 #2
“So you were listening to our conversation through the water.” Should have known.
“Perhaps you are like Andrea,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Destined to learn the true meaning of heartache. The tide of your time rises for the final crash. Do you feel it?”
Yes. No. Maybe? Her words pricked me, but I didn’t know how, or why, and it didn’t matter, anyway. I would live this life as if it were my only one, just as I always had. Because this was my only one.
“Save your commentary, history lessons, and cryptic warnings, okay?” A means of jacking up the price, hooking my curiosity so I’d ask more questions. “Give me the price for the waterway.”
“Very well. You will drink a memory restoration serum. You lost yours when Sandrine drank hers. And you will do the drinking now. No dragging this out for days. We’ve been there, done that, and it’s ridiculous when we both know you intend to say yes. Before you issue a refusal—”
“Ha! I refuse. I’m not drinking anything of yours.” The risk alone…
“This price is non-negotiable and the only means of remembering what occurred in your other lives.”
Great! I was now officially tempted. Remember other lives? Yes, please. But just how many were we talking about?
“Perhaps you wish to stay in Ozworld. That’s an option, of course.
” Elowen blew me a kiss, so sly it frayed my nerve endings.
“Maybe I’m wrong and this isn’t your last life.
Your next incarnation could be more accommodating.
Yes, I’ll wait for her.” Her gaze flicked to Jasher. “Too bad she won’t be with him.”
My stomach dropped.
“Goodbye, Rye. Goodbye, Jasher.” She gave us both a finger wave and made to step into the water.
“Wait,” I grated, and she winged her brow again. I really hated water maidens. “I’ll drink your memory restoration serum. In return, you’ll provide passage to Hakeldama as soon as Jasher is metal free. But you can’t harm him, and you can’t help my mother follow us.”
“Deal.” Grinning from ear to ear, Elowen held up a small glass vial brimming with a glittering blue liquid. “Drink.”
I reached for it, only to draw back, pressing my fist against my chest.
She rolled her eyes, as if she’d been pushed past royal decorum. “Honestly, Rye. Your distrust wounds me. You should know me better by now.”
Breathe in. Out. I accepted the bottle. “Did you drink a serum? Is that how you retained knowledge of previous lives erased with each new time loop? No one else does.”
She blinked twice, as if confused by the question. “I remembered because I’m…me.”
Well.
“Drink,” Elowen prompted. “You must be gone before the baby comes. Bad things happen if you’re here when you’re born.”
“Not a statement I ever thought I’d hear,” I muttered.
Did I trust Elowen all of a sudden? Ha! Not even a little.
Drinking a witch’s brew of unknown ingredients for passage into Hakeldama was foolish.
But I could think of no other way to find the Ember of Everlight and right the growing list of wrongs.
With a sigh, I popped the cork. Nerves buzzed, but I didn’t let it stop me. Down the hatch.
A bitter flavor hit my taste buds, and I grimaced as it slid down my throat. There. It was done, the price for a waterway paid.
One second ticked. Then another. No reaction. Well, other than the gleam of satisfaction now glinting in the maiden’s eyes. Enough to raise my hackles and inspire a sick weight of foreboding.
Flash. For a split second, I saw her, looming over my fallen form, smiling down at me as she clasped my hand and helped me stand.
Whoa!
“What did you see first?” she asked, and she couldn’t mask her curiosity.
“I—” A low growl reached my ears, and I whipped my attention to Jasher.
Yikes. More of the silver had faded, but wings of the richest onyx were now growing from his back, with matching claws protruding from his fingertips.
The bones of his face sharpened until he was a frightening amalgamation of both man and beast. Half and half.
Aggression crackled. He fought to free his limbs, muscles straining.
Outside the barn, birds took flight, as if sensing a new threat. Their squawks filled my ears as their wings flapped and shadows shifted.
I dropped the empty bottle and rushed to him. His narrowed gaze stalked me. “Calm down for me, Jasher.” I petted his chest. “All right?”
“Who are you?” He lifted his arms and pulled at handfuls of his hair. “I know you. But I don’t know you. But I do. But I don’t.” More growls. More pulling.
My heart sank. “You know me, Jasher. I’m your princess.”
“Do not speak my name.” Veins bulged as he struggled to gain freedom in his legs. When he failed, he palmed an axe in a blaze of motion.
I stumbled back, out of range.
Clang. He slammed the blade into his thigh. Metal against metal.
I jolted. “Please stop! You’ll hurt yourself.”
“You’re the one who will hurt. I’ll make you suffer a thousand deaths.” Clang. “Where am I? Who are you?” He tossed the questions as if they were daggers laced with poison. Clang.
“I’ll buy another memory restoration serum,” I screeched at Elowen over my shoulder.
Clang, clang.
“There isn’t a big enough payment in all the worlds, darling.” The maiden wagged her head at me, as if disappointed I’d even asked. “Some of the same ingredients that awakened him are also used in the memory wipe tonic. Doubly potent for monstra.”
Dread suffused every cell in my body. “Just name your price.” I reached for Jasher but he swung the axe again. Clang. “I’ll pay it.”
No response. I threw another glance over my shoulder. Gone.
I backtracked, swooping down to collect the cuffs.
A sharp prick in the pad of my index finger registered, but I didn’t stop to analyze what had cut me.
Driven by instinct—protect my parents—I rushed back to the executioner.
Reaching out, preparing to dodge the axe and slap the cuffs around his wrists…
He moved with lightning speed, not attacking with the weapon but using his free hand, raking those razor-edged claws across my chest.
Searing pain. Rising bile. Flashing stars. I experienced all as I hit the ground, losing my hold on the shackles. A cry burst from my lips.
Jasher dropped the axe and reached down to wrench now-flesh legs free of his metal boots, the last barrier. Free at last, he arrowed straight for me, swiping up one axe then its twin along the way. My vision righted as he drew back his elbows, intending to take my head.
I saw the act play out inside his irises, as if projecting his thoughts. Swing. Blood. Death.
A shovel slammed into the side of his head, flinging him aside. The weapons flew from his grip. My dad stood with the tool in hand, ready to strike again as Jasher regained his bearings and turned the full breadth of his fury onto the older man.
Half executioner, half monster, the man I loved now pawed at the dirt with supersized wings flared at his sides. Bony protrusions spiked from every joint.
“I suggest you dial it down a notch, creature,” my dad stated, shovel ready for another blow.
“I can already taste your death, human.” Jasher spit blood and laughed. His irises flared neon red. “Ash and flame.”
As I climbed to my feet, the two opponents launched at each other. Grunts and growls replaced ragged breaths. No, no, no. Ignoring every burst of pain, I slammed into Jasher, driving him to the ground.
We crashed into the floor, shaking the entire barn. Making use of a monstra weakness, I clasped his cheeks and captured his gaze with my own. Yes! He froze in place as expected, utterly snared.
The thing about monstra—they couldn’t strike while you held their gaze. They could do nothing but look at you.
Without daring to blink, I extended a trembling arm to my dad. “Get me the cuffs. And hurry.”
Though bleeding, he rushed to obey.
Don’t blink, don’t blink. My corneas burned, demanding moisture. Not yet. I accepted the cold metal without looking away. Maintained eye contact while securing the bands around Jasher’s wrists. Held his gaze until the latch engaged.
Blink.
His entire body went lax next to the old tractor, as if his muscles had ceased working.
My tremors intensified as I lumbered up. Part of me expected protests from him, perhaps an apology or two, but he did nothing more than pant.
“What happened?” my dad commanded.
A gasp drew our attention to the right. Mom and Emma huddled together in the sunny doorway, one peering at Jasher with hatred, the other with regret. Then Mom moaned and clutched her stomach. A second later, her water broke.
Emma’s gaze shot to me. “The queen is in labor.”