Chapter 13 #2
My steps to the exit were quick, loud as they echoed through the open space, my pace quickening to run from my own shadow as a heaviness took hold in my center.
As if there was something a step behind me.
Something I couldn’t escape. That same fear I’d often felt as a kid when I’d turn the light in the hallway off at night and dart across the room before the monster down the hall caught up to me.
I sealed the feeling away behind me as I clicked the lock to Fhírinne in place.
I dove under the covers and sighed up at my bedroom ceiling, belly full and meds taken.
Margaret’s words taunted me until my eyes finally pressed shut: Darkness chose me, she’d written.
A wicked thought crept in behind the first …
what if that was the reason the stone had fallen into my possession?
Because darkness had chosen me for something, seen my brokenness and considered me an easy target for whatever malignant plan it hoped to orchestrate?
I willed my mind to slow, to push the haunting vision she’d presented from my head, but somewhere along the way Margaret’s words had settled into my bones like a chill.
Red eyes. Teeth. Red eyes. Teeth. Red eyes. Teeth.
My eyes grew heavy. Black enveloped every thought and sound, lulling me into sleep before I noticed its approach, when three hard raps against the door jolted me.
I waited, half convinced I’d merely imagined it, given the late hour, but three more knocks came.
My bare feet hit the cold floor, and I opened the door in time with my deep breath.
Cillian.
“I see someone is still awake,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.
“I am …” My stomach tightened, remembering Celine’s warning from before. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about last night. I should have known better than to stay so late.”
“It was just as much my fault as yours. I asked you for answers.”
He pursed his lips. “I should have gone easy with those too. It’s a lot to handle in one go. For that, I sincerely apologize.”
“No need.” The edge of my mouth quirked up. “I’ve been looking for reasons to believe I’m not insane for a long time. You showing me, telling me, it—it’s a good thing. A little overwhelming, sure, but still good. I needed to know.”
“Then I didn’t …” His confidence wavered. “I didn’t scare you away?”
I considered his question but quickly came to the conclusion that the panic I’d felt hadn’t been in regards to him or his magic at all. The stone was the culprit. Confirming it was more than just a figment of my own mind and its wicked power: That was what I feared, not him.
I smirked, leaning against the doorframe before him. “You scare me? Come on, Lionheart, you aren’t nearly intimidating enough to scare away a woman who sees shit in her dreams like I do. Sorry if that wounds your pride.”
A smile caught his cheeks. “Oh, so wounded. In fact, maybe I won’t give you the gift I intended to after all.”
He fiddled with his peacoat pocket, dangling a mesh bag. My stomach jumped as I reached for it, but he pulled it away with a tsk. “Haven’t you heard that good things come to those who wait?”
“Yeah, well, I’m not that patient, so—” I swiped for it, missing again.
“Tell me a secret and it’s all yours.”
I glared up at him. “Like that’s going to happen.”
“All right then.” He drew the bag back toward his pocket. “Guess I’ll save this for another time then—”
But I was far too curious for that. “Fine! Okay, I’ll tell you a dang secret, Mr. Nosy.”
“That’s Mr. Inquisitive to you, thank you very much.”
I took a deep breath, the stone reflecting in my mind’s eye, and the words came tumbling out. “I’m secretly afraid the stone chose me because deep down … I’m no good. That the beast found me for the same reason, and I’m just biding my time before—” My words knotted in my throat, head hanging low.
With a gentle touch, he lifted my chin. “Before what?”
“Before I lose my mind completely,” I whispered, “slipping into madness, and this stupid stone can be used for whatever sinister plans it harbors … if that’s even a thing.” I sighed.
“Oh, sweet shadow, that isn’t going to happen. In fact, I don’t think the stone chose you at all. I think you chose it.”
His proximity made my head spin, the scent of fresh rain and gin floating off him and assaulting my senses. “How do you figure?”
“Take this, for example.” He opened the bag, revealing a handful of earth.
“Dirt? Wow, what a special gift. So insightful,” I teased.
“No.” He laughed, smile lines around his eyes wrinkling his tattoo.
“It’s sage, soil from hallowed ground, and tourmaline chips.
Magical affinities are like magnets, always seeking out their opposite.
This will help neutralize the stone’s Baneful vibration, making it less intense and helping to protect your personal energy, though you already have all the strength you need to counteract its magic. ”
I didn’t respond, his eyes searching mine.
“Don’t you get it? Fey, that stone found you because you’re its opposite. You’re the light to its dark: its challenger. Which means you’re just as strong, if not stronger than anything that stupid rock could throw your way. That’s why you found it to begin with.”
My stomach jumped. Me? Strong? In my entire life, I was not sure anyone had ever used that word to describe me. “You think I’m strong?” I asked in a hush.
“Stronger than you even know.”
He placed the bag in my hands, curling my fingers around it and sending lightning through me. With a final smile, he turned.
“Sleep tight, little shadow.”
And I did, the lingering terrors from Margaret’s journal replaced by calm, dreamless sleep.