My throat tightens around the stench of scorched flesh. It hits my nose and then catches in my throat, dragging the bile with it.
The devastation…
They deserve it. They harmed what was not theirs.Her voice is final, lacking any sympathy for those here who have harmed me or turned an eye from it.
“How do I stop it?” I rasp, unsure if I’m even speaking aloud.
We do not. We leave. You are weak.
Her wings beat. Air lashes across my skin, stealing more warmth from me. My body trembles from blood loss, cold, and pain. I am naked, cut open in too many places to heal.
My vision clears just long enough to find her: Millicent.
Her eyes…I’ll never forget their bright-blue color, which I can only compare to a chilling winter’s breath and the color of crisp frozen dawns.
Millicent.
I try to call out and reach for her.
The girl stays here.
We are off the ground in an instant; the last thing I see is her, growing smaller and vanishing into the smoke.
The darkness takes me.
WHEN I OPEN MY EYES, Millicent is staring at me. The dagger still rests at my throat; she doesn’t remove it.
A tear slips down her cheek, and I do my best to not react. Acknowledging her vulnerability would only make her recoil.
“I hate Nora,” I say quietly. “And most of the witches at the coven. I thought you were just like her. Hell, you’re meant to replace her.” She lets me speak, a rare opportunity, so I choose my words wisely.
“I don’t know you,” I admit. “I knew you when you were a child. The person in front of me now…I’m trying to accept that you may not be Nora.”
“I am not Nora,” she snaps. “I am my own person.”
“I’m sorry about your mother.” The words feel foreign on my tongue. I rarely apologize for anything.
She yanks the blade back and hurls it into the desk beside me. “I understand we can’t control magic when we’re young,” she says. “But understandthis: my heart died with her. I don’t need your apology or your excuses.” Her arms wrap around her waist in a protective, guarded manner. “If there’s anything left in me capable of love and forgiveness, I haven’t found it.”
She steps back. Her message is clear.
“What’s done is done. And I will always hold you accountable. Don’t try to make amends with me until you make them with the dead.”
“Fair enough,” I say, shrugging. “Let’s just agree to work together without stabbing each other. Deal?”
“Fine. The sooner we finish this, the sooner I can return home.”
I scoff; that stings more than it should. “So eager to get back under the blade?”
She bristles. “Why must everyone speak like they know me?”
“Show me your back.”
“I’m not giving you my back. Don’t mistake cooperation for weakness.”
I strip off my shirt and turn around.
Silence.
