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Something inside me snaps, the heartbreak in his words, the defeat. My arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him to my chest even as he resists, his muscles clenched tight. I tuck his face into my neck, threading my fingers through his dirty curls to stroke the back of his head, nuzzling my cheek into him, desperate to take away the sorrow radiating from him. My lips find his head, kissing his temple softly.
“Baby, as if I could stay away.”
The dam bursts with a sob and his body softens, melding against me. Hesitant hands find their way to my waist, balling shaking fists in my shirt to pull me closer. I make soothing, nonsense sounds against his ear, stroking his back.
The cacophony of noises, the ripples of magic above us, haven’t stopped, a ticking clock on our time here. We need to go. Now.
“We have to go, Tor. We need to run. The others—”
Tor snaps back, his eyes searching mine. “Theo, we need to get Theo.” Tor’s trembling fingers grip the back of my shirt tightly as he pulls back to whisper frantically.
I nod jerkily, rising to my feet, pulling him up quickly. “Wait here, I just need to check the other room.” I hate to leave him, but can’t in good conscience leave without checking. What if there is someone else?
Tor’s eyes fill with panic, his hands letting go of me to wrap protectively around his waist. “Hurry.”
I barely hear his whisper. I’m already backing out of the room, my eyes only on Tor chewing his cracked lips. I nearly fly, I run so fast to the last room. The door opens with a groaning squeak, and it is blessedly empty of anything except yet another cot. I leave it without a backwards glance, returning to Tor. Leaning into the room from the doorway, I hold out my hand. He’s unsteady on his feet as he shuffles to take it, but when his hand is enclosed in mine, the fire reignites in his eyes and his fingers squeeze mine.
“Tor, baby, be ready to run.”
Tor
My legs shake unsteadilyunderneath me as Caelan drags me out of the room that has been my jail for far too long, and down the corridor to steps leading up and out of the basement. For a fleeting moment I catch a glimpse of the empty chamber that was Theo’s cell and the pit in my stomach almost swallows me.
My unsure feet trip and fumble, but Caelan does not let me fall, instead pulling me to him, threading his arm around my waist, a steady anchor as we climb the stairs to our freedom.
The stairs are dark and narrow, barely wide enough for the both of us. Our shoulders are scraping the walls, and after the first step cracks beneath our shared weight, Caelan shoves me to follow on the steps behind him. Another blast from above shakes the cottage, debris raining down over us, filling our lungs. I cough and splutter, but Caelan doesn’t falter. He hauls me up the stairs, barreling towards the heavy wooden door separating us from the absolute shitshow going on up there.
We burst through the door to see an enormous hulking man, veins threading a red web over his skin. He looks fierce, eyes almost black with rage, face smeared with dirt and blood, the same blood streaked over the wicked horns jutting from his head, curling back over his skull. Dangerously close to my brother, thrown limp and lifeless over his shoulder.
Caelan yanks me to a harsh stop and I slam into his back.
“Roan—”
“Is he—?” Everything in me burns with the need to know, but our questions are interrupted by another boom rocking the space, followed by ferocious snarls.
The man, Roan, flicks his eyes to the chaos over his shoulder and licks his lips impatiently. “He’s alive. Barely. Come with me, I’m taking him—”
Edith’s triumphant screech cuts him off again, followed by more deranged laughter.
Roan looks back at us, his big hand tensing on the small of my brother’s back where he has him secured. Roan, apparently being the only smart one amongst us, nods, a tight smile on his face, and takes the moment to flee. He is far smarter than Caelan and me, who are struck in awe of the horror in the other room.
Amongst the disaster and chaos Marieth lies prone on the ground, her wilting form still flickering where she is pinned to the debris-littered floor by Seff, his snarling jaws tearing at the delicate flesh of her throat. Edith stands in front of them, her arm outstretched, a beam of white energy held in the palm of her hand, another force pinning Marieth to the floor. A giant sword hangs limply in her other hand, hanging by her side.
My brain races to catch up to the scene, taking in the glowing, neon green sacred fire in the hearth behind them, the sickening stench of crushed herbs, the smash of a bottle as it slips off the destroyed shelves lining the walls. The heaving breaths of those of us dumb enough to still be standing here.
I watch, petrified to the spot, Caelan’s sweaty hand in mine as, in one inhumanely fluid movement, Edith extinguishes the energy in her hand to take the sword in her joined fists. Raising it high above her head she brings it down with brute force into Marieth’s chest.
The being’s screech rends through the air, her body jerking violently as Seff’s mouth grips harder, crimson staining his muzzle. Edith continues to plunge the sword down, twisting it sharply before ripping it violently from the body and turning to face us. Her face is grim but resolute, as she wipes the bloody sword on her skirt, crossing the broken glass towards us.
Seff joins her, deftly picking his way across, careful of his paws. Relief awakens my frozen limbs, a giddy laugh fizzing up inside me, the last shackles of Marieth’s hold on me slipping from my spirit.
It’s over, we’re safe.
I thought there were no more tears inside me, but once again my eyes burn as I pull Edith into a tight embrace. Kissing her fuzzy white hair, Caelan wraps his arms around both of us.
“You stupid, stupid witch.” I laugh, and I can feel her own breathy laugh against my chest.
“What can I say? You were too pretty to let die just yet.”
