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Char was deep in a dreamless sleep when he felt a burst of warmth on his hand. He swatted it away and rolled over, but it yanked the blanket off of him. He sat up, irritated, and then he registered a golden light darting around him as the fog of sleep lifted.
A fairy. Zipping from his hand to his bedroom, back and forth, back and forth, insistent and unceasing.
Iris.
He jumped to his feet and raced into the bedroom.
She was still lying in his bed. Asleep.
He slowed to a walk for the last few steps, letting out a sigh of relief, but he sucked it back in less than a second later. Something was wrong. Beads of perspiration dotted her furrowed brow, and she was whimpering, small, almost inaudible sounds accompanying fast, shallow breaths.
The frantic fairies flitting around her pulled the blanket back. The amulet was glowing red.
Char grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Iris. Iris, wake up!”
She can’t hear you right now.
His eyes widened. He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. “If you want her alive, you need to stop this. She can’t breathe.”
A deep chuckle echoed through his mind. She can breathe well enough. I’ve done worse to her. But perhaps you’d rather see for yourself.
In an instant, Char was in the tower, standing outside her bedroom. He—no, Micah—shoved the door open hard enough for it to slam into the wall and rebound. Iris lay on the sofa in the darkened room, and her brown eyes flew open, sleepy and confused. Micah grabbed her by the collar and yanked her to her feet before she even had time to sit upright.
“You will regret that, Iris.”
He snatched the amulet before her fumbling hand could reach it. She cried out in pain. Her breathing became labored, her wide eyes filling with panic.
“I’m taking it all back, and then some. You're about to find out how much I've been sparing you.”
Char curled his hands into fists, digging his fingernails into his palms. “Stop this.”
The images continued. Micah released her collar and dragged her along by the amulet at an unforgiving pace. The chain around her neck didn’t break—wouldn't break. Char heard her stumbling and falling up the spiral staircase, heard her struggling to breathe, but Micah didn’t even spare her a backward glance.
“Stop this!”
Micah yanked the door to Jonah’s study open and threw Iris to the floor. She hit the stone with a solid thud. He walked past her to a shelf lined with potions, selected one, and carried it to the desk. Then he picked up a pitcher, poured water into a glass, and added a drop of the potion. A poof of smoke hid the glass from view, and he waited, unhurried, until the smoke cleared to reveal a rich burgundy liquid.
Char could hear her gasping for breath behind him.
Micah picked up the glass and turned back to her. Blood trickled down her neck and her scraped and bruised legs. She had one hand on the floor, her arm shaking beneath her as she pushed herself up, and she was reaching her other trembling hand toward the amulet.
But he was faster than her.
He grabbed her by the hair and jerked her head back. Her mouth was already open, trying to draw in as much air as she could, and he forced the potion down her throat. She choked and gagged, red liquid dribbling from her mouth and staining the front of her dress.
“Stop showing me this!”
Micah threw the empty glass to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. He grabbed the amulet again and dragged Iris through the shards to a stone table, then picked her up and slammed her onto it. Fresh blood flowed from her new cuts as he twisted and jerked her into position. She was coughing and wheezing, but he pulled the leather strap as tight over her neck as he did her ankles, waist, and left wrist. Her lips were turning blue.
Char didn’t know how much more of this he could take.
Micah stooped to pick up a piece of glass. He grabbed Iris’ unrestrained but limp right wrist and slashed her palm open. More blood poured out of her. He wrapped her hand around the amulet, closing his hand around hers to hold it in place, and red light shone through the cracks between their fingers.
And then she was screaming. Writhing. Straining against her bonds.
And he was just standing over her. Unmoving. Uncaring.
“Char. What’s going on?” Rath asked.
I don’t have time to show you the whole process. Suffice it to say, you were an hour too late. Micah chuckled again. She can take a lot of abuse, my sweet little Iris.
“What the—what is he doing here?”
Iris lay still on the table now, limp, drenched in sweat and pale as death. Only her labored breathing signified she was still alive.
“You did this to yourself,” Micah said. He loosened the straps, and when the pressure on her neck eased, she gasped and sucked in air like a drowning person. He lifted her into his arms, his actions now slow and gentle, cradling her against his chest as he carried her toward the door
She looked unconscious. Her cheek fell toward him; her lips remained parted, but her breathing was growing quiet as the effort required decreased.
“Don't think you've saved your precious fairies. I can track them the same way I track you. They’ll be right back here tomorrow, and I’m going to kill them all in front of you, one by one. And then I’m going to rape you. When you’re in that wonderful state where you can’t move and everything hurts. You’re mine, Iris. Your magic, your body, your very soul are all mine.”
She wasn’t unconscious. He wouldn't waste his poisoned words on her if that were the case. She was awake, and she heard it all, as did Char and Rath. They could only watch in stunned silence as Micah carried her down the spiraling stairwell.
“I hope you don’t still believe in God, because if you do, I have news for you. I am your god. I hold the power of life and death over you, and I’m keeping you alive for a long, long time. You’ll wish I would just let you die, but I won’t. And I’ll keep finding new ways to make you suffer. This is what you get for crossing me, Iris.”
He reached her room and lay her on her bed, and he sat beside her, brushing her sticky hair back from her sweaty face.
Char recognized this scene. This was how he’d found them—how he’d found her.
If only he’d arrived sooner. If only he hadn’t left her alone.
“Go to sleep, Iris. In the morning, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”
The images faded. They were back in Char’s bedroom, where Iris was still lying in the bed, struggling to breathe, and Char was trembling with rage.
“You sick, twisted monster!” Rath shouted.
Micah’s laughter echoed through their minds. It was all much better for her when she simply did as I said. She chose this. You have only delayed the inevitable. I will take her back, and I will fulfill every word of her promised punishment.
“Like we’ll let that happen!”
Char gritted his teeth and shook Iris’ shoulder again. “Iris, listen to me. You have to fight him.”
She’s a bit busy at the moment.
The amulet’s red glow brightened. She cried out, her back arching, her face twisting in pain.
Char grabbed her right wrist, but blood was oozing through the bandages, and he saw in his mind's eye Micah holding her bleeding hand around the amulet. He dropped her right wrist and grabbed her left instead, wrapping her hand around the amulet.
She stiffened. Her fingers tightened around the crystal.
Char stepped back and grabbed Rath by the shoulder, half-shoving, half-pulling him to the door.
“What—”
A blinding white light filled the room. Rath shielded his eyes with his arm and spun away from it. Char had already done the same.
“You can’t have me!” Iris shouted.
And then silence fell.
Deafening silence.
Char opened his eyes and turned to face her. She was sitting up now, staring at her hands and breathing hard. The amulet was clear and lifeless on her chest.
He approached with caution and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey. Iris. Are you back?”
She looked up at him and nodded. “S-sorry.”
Her voice was so small. She was fragile, vulnerable, shaking all over. He reached out and pulled her into an embrace, and she buried her face in his chest, clutching at him.
“It isn’t your fault, Iris.”
Rath let his breath out in a loud whoosh. “Well. That was… something. I get the whole ‘we’re not sleeping together’ thing, but it seems to me one of us needs to sleep with her in case that happens again, and I don’t think it should be me.”
“Iris?” Char asked.
She nodded without lifting her face from his shirt.
“I’ve got it from here, Rath. You can go back to bed.”
“Doubt I'll be able to sleep after seeing and hearing all that,” Rath muttered. His bare footsteps padded away. “I need a drink.”
Char scooped Iris onto his lap as he had the night before, holding her close while maneuvering them both into bed. She wasn’t crying this time. He almost wished she would.
“I’ll never be free from him until I get rid of this amulet,” she whispered.
“Rath and I are working on that. Does Micah know about the crystal?”
She shook her head. “He was trying to find out how I’ve been fighting him, but I wouldn’t tell him.”
“Good.” Char sighed and nuzzled into her hair. “Restoring the amulet to the crystal is supposed to weaken him, right?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how, exactly, but I think it will take away all the magic he’s stolen.”
“Leaving him open for me to tear him limb from limb,” Char growled. Then he realized how low and dangerous his voice had become, and although he meant every word, he was trying to calm Iris down, not scare her more. "Sorry. I didn't—"
“I hate this amulet, Char. It chose me, but I hate it. I never wanted it. It’s brought me nothing but pain. What’s the point in having the world’s most powerful magical artifact when you can’t use it and it’s just used against you all the time?”
She sounded so raw, so vulnerable. Char didn’t know what to say.
“Father John said magic isn’t intrinsically evil, that it’s just a tool, something that can be used for good or for bad,” she continued. “He said I would use it appropriately. And that got him killed. It got Fred, Ginger, and Kayla killed. And Jonah—” Her voice broke.
Char gave her a gentle squeeze. “It didn’t do that, and neither did you. Micah did that. You’re still learning, and you’ve only used it for good. Shielding Kayla on the battlefield. Healing Srot. Protecting the fairies. Micah said he can summon them at any time, but they’re still here, and they’re still safe. You’re doing that, even if you don’t realize it.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I just want to get rid of it.”
“You will. Now try to get some sleep. I’ve got you.”
She took another deep breath and nodded, and then she wrapped her arms around his torso. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Char.”
“That isn’t something you have to worry about, Iris. I’m not leaving you again.”
He kissed the top of her head, wishing he could do more for her than just hold her until the trembling stopped. Wishing he could wipe everything Micah did and said from her memory—and his. Wishing he could take the pain away.
Her breathing slowed as she drifted to sleep. Char lay awake much longer.7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5wq5bhzM2e
