Page 109 of Inextricably Tied

Silence. He listens for more, but there’s only the slow trickle of blood from the chandelier — until something creaks in the attic. Agony flashes toward the sound with the last bit of his strength, flinging open a closet where a girl screams.

She doesn’t ask for mercy. Agony won’t give it, reaching to yank her from the depths when matted ginger hair falls over her eyes. Her hands tremble to cover her face, thick lines of dirt curving around one finger, leaving a pale band of skin.

…one of the girls had a ring. Which one had a ring?

“Evie?”

Her frantic gaze darts toward him. “Y — you know —?”

“You’re alive?”

Her eyes are glazed, bruise forming around one. “Are you…”

Agony sinks to his knees.

Her fingers press to her lips. “Are — are they all —”

He nods. Evie covers her face, breath hiccupping like she can’t get enough of it. He brushes a tendril against the top of her head. Her body jerks away before she sinks into it, cradled against his chest.

“It’s ok now. It’s ok. I’ve got you.” He holds her cheeks to face him. “I’m going to get you out of here, but I need your help. You can heal, right? You’re good at healing magic?”

A shudder wracks through her before Agony pulls her gently from the closet, blocking the carnage on the staircase with the power he has left in his shadows.

“I’m going to take you downstairs. There’s a lot of blood, ok? Close your eyes.”

Agony slithers under the door, breaking the chains on the other side before he dodges corpses and guides her down to the cellar. Blood is ripe in the air. Agony shatters the lightbulb where it hangs, guiding Evie to Flint in the dark.

“They won’t hurt you. I need you to heal them.” His eyes light the rivulets pouring down Flint’s face. “I haven’t seen him move.”

Evie kneels shakily, reaching a tentative hand toward the side of Flint’s neck. She’s silent for a long moment — so long a wail rises in Agony.

“He’s there.” Her voice is hoarse. “It’s faint…”

“Please help him,” Agony whispers. “Please. Anything you can do.”

She presses the palms of her hands across a gash in Flint’s throat. Agony darts across the room to lift Harbinger’s limp body into his lap.

Shadows trace her hairline, drifting over blood streaked across her face. How much is hers? How much is Flint’s? Agony closes his eyes, resting his head against hers. “Come back.”

Her mind is tattered and torn, shredded like a canvas. Agony reaches for her through the holes, through the dreamscape, into the woods they’ve been searching for months. Past claw marks in the trees, charred ash drifting through the wind, pinpricks of stars overhead.

No banshee.

“Harbinger!” His voice blends with the sound of the forest, whispering winds and croaking bullfrogs. Static grows louder through it all, white noise that drowns out every other sound.

The end. The last note before silence.

Agony darts through the darkness, combing for any trace of Harbinger, forest blurring past him — until he spots her.

Little more than a ghost, body slumped beneath the trees, a haze that threatens to flicker and vanish. Agony sinks to his knees, but his shadows pass through her, like she’s going somewhere even he can’t reach.

“Harbin…” He covers her body with his, trying to wrap her in him, to keep her here. “Please don’t go. Please.”

A sound racks through him. He doesn’t know what it is, a low moan in his chest that pricks behind his eyes. “Please. Please come back. Please stay.” A glowing tear slips down onto her face. “I can’t carry this hole, please, I can’t carry it…”

Weight settles into his arms. Agony pulls back as color returns to her skin, gravity settling back into her body. He surfaces from the dream, back to the cellar. Evie sits in the dark before him, hands gripping Harbinger as the blood seeps back into her. Soaking up from the tarp and slipping back into her veins as skin and bones knit back together.

Liquid splashes onto Harbinger’s skin, sparking before it vanishes. Evie wipes a drop from the corner of Agony’s eyes. It fades gold on her finger. “I think you’re crying.”