“You’re the pawn that can lead me to the king.” There’s no remorse in her eyes, her face. It triggers something primal, something angry inside of me.
Furniture cracks and groans, splintering into pieces.
The windows shatter.
Teacups erupt into small showers of liquid and glass.
And the tender hold I have on my magic explodes all around us.
Cats fly around the room like flakes of snow in a blizzard. Floral colors burst, severing from the walls and tearing away from the structure of this quaint little home. Nollix watches with wide, excited attention while everyone else covers their heads the best they can. Birkin clings helplessly to a wide-eyed and fretful kitten as he crouches low on the floor, hiding from the chaos that spins around what’s left of his home.
I stand waiting. My gaze blazes into the Witch cowering on the floor at my feet. Long strands of my blonde hair whip across my face, but not even the painful shards of wood against my skin deter my glaring eyes.
“Do I still look like apawn, Cameron Crows?” My steady voice scarcely carries among the destruction.
I lower myself, crouching at her side as she curls into her body, her hands clinging over her thick, bright hair. My arms rest lazily against my knees. A chunk of timber flies past my face, and still I stare down on her.
“I said, do you think I am a pawn to be played with?”
“No.” The muffled sound of her voice can barely be heard, but I do hear it. “No, I don’t,” she repeats on a yell.
This side of me is ugly. This side of me is what causes people to watch me like I’m a ticking time bomb. This is why my father sent me away.
Gathering my strength, I force my quaking hands to still as I pull at the loose tethers of my magic that whip out around us. The violent winds halt one by one. The swirling items drop, landing hard in heaps in the destroyed room. Warm sunlight filters in through the beams of the walls that lean in against each other, now only minimally supported.
The chatter of birds outside drifts through the silence as I wait patiently for her to untangle herself from beneath the broken coffee table.
“Goddess, I love when she’s angry,” Nollix says from somewhere behind me.
“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” Carver whispers to his friend.
The woman at my feet pushes at the debris covering her. White dust clings to the strands of her hair. When she looks into my eyes, she stares up at me as if it’s the first time we’re really meeting.
“Untie the bond.” The simmering feel of my magic settles to a dull hum within me.
For a sliver of time, there has been a blooming hope that Cameron could be my friend. That something good could come from this accident. This... this feels like betrayal. And I feel like an idiot.
Cameron looks to Birkin, and their eyes meet just before fumes of pale pink smoke erupt from around the Warlock.
“I’m too old for this shit,” Birkin says just before he fades away entirely within the smoky magic around him.
“I can’t break the bond.” Cameron bites the inside of her cheek, not meeting my gaze as her eyes trail over the broken boards within the room.
“That’s a lie. Remove it or I’ll remove you.”
A humming sound of appreciation falls from Nollix’s lips, and I roll my eyes at the sound. His hunger for violence is strange, but it suits him.
Why did Cameron even want me? Why break into the castle at all? Twice.
The memory of her asking if she’d be imprisoned within the castle twirls through my thoughts.She wanted to be there.
“What were you looking for?” Interest sparks within me, and I can’t seem to stop it.
“Vi, this is a dead end, and whatever trouble the Witchling wants to get in, we want no part of.” Carver’s gentle tone tugs at my mind, but it isn’t enough to distract me from wondering what my father might be hiding within the walls of the Court of Darkness.
“Do you ever wonder why the king sent away his own daughter to the Wild Hunt?”
Every day.
