Chapter 28
Between constantly fighting against the enchantress and my own insomnia, the next two weeks are severely distorted.
I’m pulled and pushed by an internal force from one extreme mood to another.
Sometimes it happens just beyond the reach of my awareness, and other times I’m simply unable to stop the geyser of rage or tears.
I’m either shouting at Odgar or lying curled up in the darkness, wishing that the prison of my mind would release me.
I’ve come into my awareness only to find someone’s horrified expression staring back at me too many times.
I vaguely recall Valdis fitting me with a wedding dress, Briony helping me with mind shielding.
I remember snatching a knife from Seth’s waist and threatening Odgar with it for gods know what.
When I turned the blade on my own throat, Odgar easily plucked it from my hand.
At the memory, I clutch my neck, panicked breaths following as I remember how Odgar hugged me until I found myself again. I don’t know how to make these moments stop. I hold on to the hope that once we find Siad Nahar, this cure will release me from the bounds of my brokenness.
Tired of being cooped up and avoiding everyone in the Great Hall, I slip away while the main room is empty and make my way across the village.
Dead grass rustles beneath my boots on the trodden path as I make my way toward the mead house.
Despite it being late afternoon, the village’s center is bustling with activity—running children, bartering vendors, and others just going about their usual routine just before the sun begins to set.
The stench of piss, fish, and henbane fills my nostrils as someone clasps their hand over my mouth and yanks me back against their hard body.
“Where do you think you’re going?” a man growls in my ear, his words heavily accented. His hand tightens around my mouth, but I bite down as hard as I can.
He yelps and yanks his hand away from my face. “Erleyan bitch!” he shouts, tugging on my hair so my head whips back, my neck straining. He flings me against the wooden wall of the mead house, and a burst of pain flares in my face, staining my vision with blurry flecks.
“Why are you really here?” the man demands.
I spin toward him, slumped against the wall as my toes grip through my shoes to keep me upright. A familiar, ruddy face sneers at me. This man has filled many an auroch horn in my time here. He works at the mead house and has never shown me any contempt until now.
“Well?” he asks.
As he leans close, I spit in his face. He snarls and grabs my wrists, pinning me to the wall.
I scream and thrash against him, and my knee connects with flesh.
Uldaran curses spew from his mouth as he releases me for a moment.
But before I can run, he grapples for my arms again, and a glint of something shiny catches my eyes.
“You don’t belong here. You have no right to claim Uldaran royalty.
Your children will be bastards.” Cold metal presses against my cheek, sending my heart into an erratic rhythm.
Instead of the man’s brown eyes, I see the wild look in Eefa’s vibrant green ones before she slashed her blade across my face. My scars seem to pulse and burn.
This isn’t happening. I can’t let this happen again. I can’t …
Enidwen’s nails rake against the barrier of my consciousness as she hisses, Let me out.
I grit my teeth, unwilling to relinquish my control. Afraid to lose myself.
You’ll lose yourself, regardless. Her tone is brusque, impatient. Let go or this man will further mar you.
I growl and let the barrier fall away. Heat floods my senses, pain searing up my arms and burning my eyes. As my palms ignite, the man gasps and steps back. Odgar’s fist slams into his nose with a crunch.
When the fuck did he get here?
My body trembles as I stare at the miscreant.
Destroy him! Enidwen shouts. Overwhelming heat pulses through me. It threatens to shatter me if I don’t release it.
My first blast of fire erupts at the man’s chest. His nasal screams fill the air as blood pours from his nose and fire eats through his tunic.
The flames are immediately doused, smoke rising off his charred clothing.
With a wave of my hand, black flames coil up his body.
His screams are shriller, laced with unbearable pain.
What a beautiful sound, hmm?
A grin stretches across my face as Odgar and Valdis put space between themselves and my attacker. I strut toward the man, mesmerized by the shadowfire that neither burns nor blisters. His screams are endless—maybe he’ll scream himself to death. How long would that take?
Minutes?
Hours?
Days?
“Carys!” Odgar shouts, but I ignore him and all the people now gawking at us. Enidwen’s cackle reverberates in my head.
I narrow my eyes on the man as he sinks to his knees, hugging himself through the black blaze.
“Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?” I ask him in a low tone.
“Carys … release him. Please,” Odgar says. “We’ll handle this.”
“No.” My voice comes out in a snarl.
“Carys …”
My head snaps to him and Valdis. Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t dare to speak.
Odgar steps toward me. “You’re safe now. He won’t do you any more harm. Killing this man will only lead to a trial and your death.”
“He attacked me.”
I swear there’s a blaze in his eyes as well. “I know,” he shouts over the man’s shrieks. “And I want to drive a sword up through his cock and into his heart, but there are laws. He deserves to pay, but not at the risk of forfeiting your life.”
I only increase the shadowfire, orange embers beginning to spark through the black flames holding the man in agonizing captivity.
Until ice cold water splatters against my face.
I gasp, my muscles seizing up and cutting off the shadowfire. Shock whitens my vision, and my knees buckle. Sharp pain jolts through them as they hit the ground.
Odgar’s at my side in an instant, an arm around me. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
The growl that comes flying out of my mouth sounds awfully animalistic. More raging fire builds up inside of me.
I want to throttle Odgar. To burn my attacker. I want Uldarvik up in flames. Then Erleya. Then the world.
Tears sting my eyes as the thoughts swirl through my mind, parrying logic strike for strike. My limbs quiver with the mental battle.
“Look at me,” Odgar gently says as he pulls my cape around me, trapping my arms.
Everything around me is a blur, and even Odgar’s voice sounds so far away. But my attention is drawn to my hand peeking out from the cape. Thick, black veins crawl up my fingers and beyond my wrist. I shove my hand fully beneath the cape, my breaths coming in shallow, panicked puffs.
Go away, I say to Enidwen.
Heat only flares hotter within me. I flinch and clench my fists, trying to subdue the enchantress.
I said: Go. Away! I shout within my mind.
With one last snarl, Enidwen sinks back into the shadows of my psyche.
Odgar calls to Valdis and rattles off something in rapid Uldaran. She responds affirmatively as Odgar wraps his arms tighter around me.
“I’m going to lift you now,” he says. “Close your eyes. I’ve got you.” He scoops me into his arms, and I do as he says.
An odd, rocking movement churns my stomach when my eyes fly open again. Heavy awareness falls on me, fatigue sinking into my flesh. We’re in the middle of a fjord, mountains and land blanketed in white all around us. What appears to be a strip of land is a small distance ahead of us.
“Don’t panic,” Odgar says as I glance down and realize that we’re in a small rowboat. My back is against Odgar’s chest, his legs stretched out on either side of my body.
I lurch upright, my knuckles white on the edges of the vessel as I hang on for my life.
“I said don’t panic, huntress. Deep breaths.”
The first breath feels like inhaling through a straw. But slowly, my respirations stop coming in short bursts. “Where are we going?” My voice comes out hoarse and fractured. My eyes feel feverish. Slowly, I shift so that I’m facing him.
“A short way from here,” he says. Every now and then his hands move as if pushing back some invisible force. There are no oars in sight, but the boat is propelled forward without stopping.
By Odgar’s waterweaving.
It’s fascinating, but I find great difficulty in meeting his steady gaze.
Unspoken questions expand between us until we’re near a small inland isle and Odgar steps out of the boat.
He pulls it ashore and anchors it with rope tied to a wooden post. I slip my hand into his as he reaches for me, and he tugs me onto the land.
My legs wobble as though I’m still on the boat.
My body feels both heavy and light at once, everything fading away until Odgar’s distant voice pulls me back to the present.
The whisper of the wind along with the occasional crunch of Odgar’s boots in the frozen grass are the only sounds as he walks away.
I watch his broad back, the battle-axe strapped to it glinting orange as the sun sets.
My hands no longer bear the telltale black veins of Enidwen’s curse, but they shake with such fervor that I have to clasp them together.
Enidwen’s voice in my head is quiet, but that dark flame within my core continues to waver.
Waiting.
My stomach sinks. My lower lip quivers, but I clamp my jaw until my teeth ache. I will not cry.
“Are you coming?” Odgar tosses over his shoulder. His voice sounds warped and far away, but I cling to it.
I don’t respond, though I hurry to catch up with his long strides. The island is dense with shrubbery but sparse on trees. A small, rocky hollow lies ahead, the clearing in front of it glowing red as the sun continues to sink.