Page 91 of Too Hexed to Handle

‘Eira didn’t succeed because it’s not possible. And if you turn yourself today, you’ll never have magic.’

His icy demeanour cracks, heat blazing in his eyes. ‘Yes, I will. Creatures of power shouldn’t be restricted or bound by the laws of nature. They should make the laws. And when I’m a Souleater, when I have made myself a king, I will find a way. There’ll be a few seconds before the emeralds spread too much. I’ll get a slither of magic, at least, and I’ll use that to find a way around my hex. What does it matter if I accidentally kill a few people in the process? Now, to business. Let’s fill you up with magic, shall we?’

Astin’s arm brushes mine as he fights his bonds again. Between struggles, he says to Damian, a little desperately, ‘Look, if you want a Souleater, I’ll find you a Souleater. There’s bound to be a den in Rerta somewhere, I’ll take you –’

‘Why would I waste my time seeking another, when I have one right here?’ Damian clicks his fingers and calls for Yvette. ‘Bring one in.’

Footsteps clack outside. I expect Yvette to appear, dragging a screaming captive for me to channel, but when the door opens, it’s not Yvette who steps inside. It’s Eira. Damian isn’t surprised by her appearance, merely irritated. She’s dressed like she expects to attend his party: once again in a floor-length gown, this one dark green as if in homage to his emeralds, and her silver hair is wrapped in an elaborate bun. Dark lines of magic swirl across her collarbone – she must have replenished since the maze, which does not make me feel good about my chances of leaving this room alive.

‘I told you to stay with the prisoners,’ Damian says.

‘Everybody’s locked up snuggly tight.’ Her eyes gleam. ‘And once she’s dead, you’ll finally be happy.’

I suppose mentioning I won’t be happy is futile. Astin thrashes at my side, but it’s pointless. Yvette may be a frail thing, but she sure knows how to tie a knot. My wrists will barely twist at all, let alone enough to wriggle free, and the more I try, the tighter they become. Dread plunges through me.

‘She won’t be dead until she’s finished my potion,’ Damian says. ‘First, she needs magic.’

‘I wanted to see her first. I didn’t know what she was, last time we spoke.’ Eira stares at me, wide-eyed, like she can’t decide whether to be in awe or terrified. ‘I’ve never seen another one. Not since my parents.’

‘Yes, yes, she’s very interesting, I’m sure. Bring us a prisoner, would you?’

Eira doesn’t react, and Damian’s irritation grows, smoke and fire prickling my nostrils. Her gaze hasn’t left mine. I wonder if she’s ever disobeyed a direct order before. When we met, I had questions I wanted to ask her, and I get the sense that same curiosity lives in her now. She’s been alone for so long, and she doesn’t have to be. There’s another Souleater right in front of her.

Maybe that would be enough to make her side with me over Damian.

‘Eira, why are you here? Did Damian invite you?’ I ask.

She blinks. ‘He’s having a party.’

‘He didn’t invite you to his last party. Do you remember why? Do you remember getting upset at the festival? You found out he was looking for the potion. Did you know then that it wasn’t a cure?’

She nods, slowly.

‘You thought, if he found the potion, he was going to make you finish it, didn’t you? Even knowing it might kill you? He would’ve threatened to leave you, or take off his gloves and turn you to emerald if you’d refused. Why are you helping him now, when he was willing to do that to you?’

She looks unsure. ‘He said he wouldn’t let harm come to me. And that he was going to throw me a party. Nobody’s ever thrown me a party.’

‘He was lying to you,’ I persist. ‘He didn’t know I was a Souleater until . . . when, Damian? This morning? Last night?’

‘I’ve known from the beginning,’ he says, immediately wincing when Eira says at the same time, ‘This morning.’

She carries on. ‘You told me to come to the castle for my party. That the party wasn’t until the evening, but I should come first thing, because that’s how surprise parties work.’

Astin opens his mouth at this, but I elbow him, allowing her to put the pieces together herself.

‘The prisoners were all here, and you took me to them. Said I should channel them again, so I’d have magic for the party. You complained that your stomach hurt, and you were too hot, so you removed your cloak and caught sight of your neck in the mirror. Then you said, She’s a Souleater and, She’s got so much more to care about. She’ll be easier to convince.’

‘So you see?’ I say eagerly. ‘He invited you here to channel the prisoners, to load up on magic, before coercing you into finishing the potion. He doesn’t care about you, Eira, and he never will. But . . . I could be your friend, if you’ll let me. I can help you. If you untie me, we can –’

‘Quiet,’ Damian snaps. ‘Darling, I told you, I knew what she was all along. She’s always been the plan. That’s why I invited you here. So you could watch her die.’

He winces again, pressing a hand to his stomach as though it’s still hurting – or maybe he’s trying to garner Eira’s sympathy. I wouldn’t put it past him.

‘Do you know what the worst part is?’ I go on, trying to regain her attention. ‘I know you would’ve given him everything he wanted. You love him. You could’ve had a life together. The kind neither of you had growing up. But he’s too bitter and twisted to ever love you back. He’s been using you this whole time. He made you conduct those experiments for his benefit, not because he wanted you to be more powerful. Deep down, you know that, don’t you? And if it came to it, he’d have watched you die, just to get what he wanted.’

Her lower lip wobbles.

Damian spins her round, tucking a knuckle beneath her chin and forcing her to look at him. ‘Don’t listen to her. You know how I feel about you.’