AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mom’s stew was exactly like I remembered it—spicy and sweet. We sat at our tiny kitchen table. Just the two of us. Like always.
Except it wasn’t.
As if it were fighting to outshine the rest of the cabin, the lamp shone a little too brightly. Its usually warm light swathed the kitchen in a dreamy glow. The windows, however, were a little too dark. Not even moonlight filtered through the panes.
I squinted at the darkness to see the garden that flourished in its view. Despite my efforts, I couldn’t see it.
“Freya,” Mom chided, “your stew will get cold.”
I glanced down at my steaming bowl of food. I waved my hand over the steam but felt no heat. No dampness. Nothing at all.
“Freya.” Mom slammed her fork down. It smacked against the table, but nothing vibrated under my hand. Nothing rattled. “Enjoy a meal with your mother.”
I recoiled from her harsh tone. Mom wasn’t prone to having a bad temper. She always said I got that from my father.
Her frown melted into a smile. “I’ve missed you, darling.”
“Mom,” I whispered and leaned closer. “Why have you missed me? Where have you been?”
She frowned. “I’m here now. Isn’t that enough?”
My heart sank to the floor.
“No,” I said and swallowed. “No, it’s not.”
The dull ache in my head reached a crescendo that traveled to my chest. As reality crashed on the façade Josephine had trapped me in, my heart ached. I squeezed my eyes shut to try to block out the pain.
When I opened them, my mother was gone.
Again.
I no longer sat in my cabin, but in a cell. I ran my fingers along the rough stone beneath my hands and studied the thick iron bars. They surrounded me in every direction. The cage was so small that I couldn’t even stand. Endless darkness stretched out beyond its confines. With a cry of fury, I pounded a fist against the cage’s ceiling.
“Let me out!” I screamed.
My voice echoed into the darkness, but no one answered me. Panic seized my chest. I was utterly and truly alone. Frantically, I pounded a fist against the ceiling and tried to pry the bars apart. All my effort resulted in was pain.
Think, Freya.
High on power, Josephine had made me a prisoner in my own mind. Her gilded cage hadn’t worked so she’d crammed me into this one. I’d broken free of one of her traps. I could do it again.
But how?
Mom’s greatest advice for defending one’s mind generally involved not letting things get to this point of severity.
It was time to adlib. It couldn’t be that hard—Walker did it all the time.
Walker, who is out there probably dying and in need of my help…Nope.
I wouldn’t go down that road. I would get out.
“That’s it!” I exclaimed.
I was ashamed the idea hadn’t hit me earlier. Manifestation wasn’t just something humans had added to the long list of their many fads. It was magic in its simplest form—wishing and believing.
I closed my eyes and imagined grass beneath me instead of stone. I recalled the coppery scent of blood and the metallic buzz of magic. I basked in the blood moon’s strange heat on my back where I lay in the field. Slowly, the prison melted away.
Cries of pain and grunts of strained effort created a cacophony of nightmares. Somewhere in the distance, a child sobbed.
