From Spirit and Binding Page 18

  “We have to be able to win at something,” I said, my voice low. I hadn’t even realized I was going to say the words until they were out. And when they were, they seemed so trivial, as if I were reaching for something that might not ever come. It wasn’t like I could actually do anything. All I could do was pray and wait. And learn. And train. And help others while I tried to figure out what to do for myself.

  “I wish I could say I had your optimism or even your enthusiasm to think we could win. I can tell you’re lying to me just like you’re lying to yourself.”

  He turned again, this time so I could see his profile. His dark hair slid over his forehead as the breeze blew it this way and that. The sun had set, and now, only the lamplight from the courtyard walls illuminated his dark brown skin.

  He was stunning, and with that chiseled jawline and smirk he always wore, he was wicked in every way.

  And I had fallen for him.

  Mainly because of the way he picked others up as they fell. The way he threw himself into everything he did—even into pretending he didn’t care. How he did his best to act as if everything were fine. As if the world around him could crumble and he would find a way to survive along with his people and that would be all that mattered.

  I knew that was a lie just as much as he did. Or perhaps, more than he did.

  That was why I had fallen for him. And not just because my soul reached out to him as if there were a cord tying us together.

  “We’ll break the curse,” I said, my voice a whisper.

  He turned to me then, his eyes shrewd. “That would be nice. Because I don’t want him tainting my life. I don’t want him doing anything that could break us.”

  I knew he wasn’t talking about us in terms of him and me. No, he meant the group of us, and I understood that. Loving me would only be a fraction of what mattered, and I understood that. I felt the same.

  As he moved forward, his hand outstretched, I froze, wanting it to be so much more than I knew it was.

  His fingertips traced the line of my cheek, and I closed my eyes, wanting to savor the moment.

  Because if I closed my eyes, maybe I could pretend that there was love there. That there was something more than curiosity about what he couldn’t have.

  I wanted to believe that the aching breaths between us meant that I wasn’t alone in my needs or wants.

  “You have so much power within you, Lyric. And so much more to come. I’m in awe of you.”

  My eyes shot open, and I stared into his dark orbs, wanting to understand what he meant by that.

  Before I could say anything, there were footsteps behind us, and then we were no longer alone.

  Easton’s eyes widened fractionally, and I turned on my heel, aware that his hand was still on my hip as if ready to push me to the side or pull me back at any moment.

  “Garrik, what are you doing out here?”

  Garrik stood there, his eyes hollow, his shoulders hunched as he looked at us.

  “Where are his guards?” I whispered, and Easton’s hand gripped my hip harder.

  “I have a present for you,” Garrik whispered, his voice deeper than usual.

  And then the transformation in front of me forced me to take a step back so my body pressed against Easton’s, his hand squeezed my hip with bruising force.

  Garrik rolled his shoulders back, his eyes narrowing as they filled with anger.

  “When I tell you to go, run,” Easton whispered into my ear. Garrik clucked his tongue.

  “No, that’s not how this works.” Garrik looked at us, and I swallowed hard.

  “How what works? What present?” My voice was far steadier than I thought it could be. I was afraid. Terrified. Something was coming, I could feel it in my bones, and I didn’t think I would be strong enough to beat it back.

  We had known not to trust Garrik, so we had put guards on him. We’d wanted to see what he would do. Apparently, it hadn’t been enough.

  Once again, we hadn’t been enough.

  “You know, it’s quite sad that you never trusted me. You should have. Poor, feeble little Garrik, he saved you, and yet you couldn’t leave him alone for even a moment so he could just be. No, you had to have guards on him at all times. And not only your friends. The little guards with their little Wielding.”

  “What have you done to my people?” Easton asked, his voice low. He took a step to the side so we were standing side by side, though he was a bit in front of me, just enough that I knew Garrik noticed, as made evident by the tightening of the skin around his eyes.

  “You know, it’s your fault they’re gone. But that’s fine.” He waved that comment off as if he hadn’t just hinted at killing them. “If you had trusted me, they would still be alive.”

  Nausea clutched at me, my heart skipping a beat. Who had been watching him? Wyn? Teagan? Rhodes? No, after dinner, they had gone down to make sure Emory was okay, to see if there was something they could do with her cuffs. I didn’t think anyone that I knew personally had been on Garrik’s detail.

  Oh my God. Oh my God.

  Easton moved his hands from his side, from my hip, and Fire encircled his palms.

  “Don’t think to use your Wielding on me, King.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? You’re a Dane, someone with no magic. Yet, somehow, you killed two of my guards easily. Who are you, Garrik?”

  “That’s always the question, isn’t it? You see, The Gray knew who I was. Knew that though my magic had been stripped from me, it was only the Wielding that was gone. Not everything.”

  I wanted to look at Easton, to see what he was thinking. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Garrik. My hands were out, my Wielding pulsating inside me, ready to break free, to fight. When I was by Easton’s side, I felt in control, like I could use all four if I needed to. I just didn’t know what we would do in these close quarters. And though I could hear the footsteps of the others coming, and I knew that Teagan and Wyn and Rhodes and even Rosamond would be there soon, I didn’t know if it’d be quick enough. Because there was something different about Garrik, and not just in the way he stood, or how he spoke.

  This man felt dangerous, and I didn’t want Easton to get hurt.

  Especially not when The Gray still had hold of him—just like it seemed he had a firm grip on Garrik.

  “What are you?” Easton asked again.

  “I’m a Whisperer,” Garrik said, a smile on his face. And while I could feel Easton start ever so slightly next to me, I had no idea what a Whisperer was.

  Garrik looked at me, a glare on his face even as he smirked. It wasn’t like Easton’s, and I hated it.

  “They never told you what a Whisperer was? Tut tut. I thought you were supposed to read all the books and know everything. Aren’t you the Spirit Priestess, the one who’s supposed to save us from the big bad? Well, it seems as if they kept you in the dark. Maybe you’re not on the right side of history, after all. Perhaps you’re the big bad. Ever think of that, little girl?”

  “Enough,” Easton snapped. “She’s new to all of this. She’s learning. I’ve beaten The Gray’s second, I can beat you, too.”

  “You beat him because I let you. You know nothing, King.” Garrik sneered the last word, and I let my Fire slip across my hands, mixing with the Air within my Wielding.

  I was stronger than Garrik. I knew this. I didn’t know what his plans were, what he had put into place around us and between us. And that worried me. I couldn’t let innocents get hurt because I didn’t understand the situation.

  What was a Whisperer?

  As if he had heard me, Garrik answered. “A Whisperer is more than a mere Wielder. I hear things. Oh, not everything. But enough. I can hear the lies and the truths among those who think to deceive. That’s why I’m here. To figure out exactly what your soon-to-be dead king knows. Too bad it doesn’t seem like much. However, I learned one thing.”

  I didn’t move, didn’t react. Garrik continued. “You see, you have weaknesses. You all do. Yet you, S
pirit Priestess, have two huge weaknesses. So big, I’m surprised the others didn’t keep them safe for you.”

  I’d already lost Braelynn, Emory, and at one point, I had lost Rhodes and Easton. Who was he talking about?

  And then I knew. Before he even snapped his fingers and purple smoke slithered into the courtyard between Garrik and us…I knew.

  I knew who my weaknesses were. Who I had thought we had hidden away in the open without memories of who I was. We hadn’t done a good enough job.

  Garrik snapped his fingers again, and the shadows slid back, whispering themselves. Suddenly, my parents were there, kneeling on the stones, confusion in their gazes and blood trickling down their faces from small wounds on their heads. Their hands were tied behind their backs, and the fear that permeated off them curdled my stomach and made me want to throw up. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run to them and make sure they were okay.

  How were they here?

  My parents. The ones who had loved me forever. Who might’ve wanted to push me in a direction I wasn’t sure of, but they had only done it because they didn’t want me to feel left behind. They wanted me to succeed. These were the people that loved me no matter what choices I made. The ones I had run from because I wanted to keep them safe.

  Alura had put a spell on them so they wouldn’t remember me. Same as Easton had done when I left for that first trip.

  We had worked magic on their minds so they didn’t remember they had a daughter.

  As they looked at me, shock and fear in their gazes, I knew that spell was no longer there.

  They remembered me.

  And they were so scared.

  I didn’t know how to save them.

  Not when my Wielding could hurt them, and I didn’t know what else Garrik or The Gray had up their sleeves.

  “Lyric?” my father whispered. His voice was so steady, not a single ounce of fear in it. He was trying to be so strong. For me. I hated Garrik for this. I loathed The Gray.

  Fire licked up my body, and I knew it surrounded me like an aura. My mother’s eyes widened, a tear trickling down her cheek as she watched me.

  I was no longer their little girl. I was the Spirit Priestess. And I had lied to them for so long as I tried to keep them safe. It hadn’t been enough.

  “What’s happening, Lyric?” my mother asked. “Baby? Who is this man? Are you okay?”

  “Mom.” My voice cracked. I needed to be stronger than this.

  Of course, they would ask if I was okay. They were bleeding and hurt, and I wanted to scream and shout and just do…something. They were worried about me.

  As Garrik smiled, I screamed, taking two steps forward, trying to get closer. He just tilted his head and pushed out his palm. Smoke and shadow poured from his body and plowed into my parents. I screamed, my Fire breaking loose, slamming into the sides of the courtyard as the others shouted my name. Easton grabbed me around the waist, pulling me back as his Fire and Earth escaped to try and stop the smoke from coming towards my parents.

  We weren’t fast enough.

  Because this wasn’t Garrik’s magic. This wasn’t his Whispering or whatever you called it. This was The Gray.

  And he had worked through Garrik as a vessel.

  The smoke wrapped around my parents’ necks in an instant. As I pushed my fingers and hands towards them, trying to create a shield with Air, another line of smoke and shadow slammed into my chest, and I hit the ground, my body stinging from the impact with the pavement. Easton was thrown back, blood spurting from his mouth as he slammed his head into the wall. Then we were both up again, trying to reach my parents, Water sloshing out of the pools to our side to aid us as I threw it towards Garrik. The smoke blocked it. I moved my hand again, trying to break the ground beneath Garrik’s feet with Earth, but the smoke slapped at that, as well. I moved Air and Fire, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t fast enough.

  My parents looked at me, tears sliding down their cheeks, and the smoke tightened. The snap in the air was like the crack of a bullet.

  Their eyes went vacant, their heads lolling to the side as The Gray snapped their necks.

  And then Garrik waved, a grin on his face that I never wanted to see again, and then the shadows enveloped him, swallowing him whole.

  Suddenly, no one was there, just a ghost in the shadows as the smoke dissipated, leaving the bodies of my parents on the ground. The others ran towards us as they finally pushed through whatever smoky barricade had blocked their path before.

  I could do nothing. I could only look at my parents, the people who had raised me, who I loved with every ounce of my being. And then I screamed.

  I screamed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lyric

  * * *

  I stood on the connection point of five elements, where twelve points of a clock struck and began. I stood at the space of four directions.

  Only I was the fifth of all, the thirteenth from all.

  I stood where I had for so many dreams, countless hours in sleep where I thrashed and screamed and felt the Air in my hair, the Water on my face, the Fire on my skin, and the Earth beneath my feet. I stood in the place I remembered before the world turned dark. When I had thought I was only human.

  I stood somewhere that haunted my life—my waking dreams, and the nightmares of sleep.

  I stood where I had wished for more and had been given so much, even as more had been taken away.

  I stood in the place that screamed my destiny, yet begged for forgiveness.

  “Lyric, come to us.” One of the numbers on the clock spoke, but I didn’t want to listen.

  I knew that voice, it was one who always spoke to me. A Spirit Wielder.

  I didn’t want to look at them. I refused to see, refused to look beneath the cloaks of those who said they wanted to help. Did they? No, they just wanted me for my powers, the magic I supposedly had, the destiny that was purportedly mine.

  They didn’t want to help, they just wanted to use me. Like everybody else.

  Because I wasn’t enough. I had never been enough.

  I had been given these powers, had unlocked them, one by one, and now I was a force that no one could hold.

  Yet, I was nothing.

  They were gone, taken from me, and I had done nothing to stop it.

  I hadn’t been strong enough and I hadn’t been able to see the deception that had been right in front of me. I couldn’t see it.

  My lungs seized within my chest, and I clawed at my clothes, the garments that weren’t mine. Given to me by those who thought I was the Spirit Priestess. They clothed me, fed me, and kept me warm as I trained. Because they thought I was worthy. Because they thought I could do something for them.

  It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

  “Lyric, pull yourself together, you can do this.”

  I knew these voices. They weren’t my friends, though. It wasn’t Easton, wasn’t Braelynn, wasn’t Rhodes.

  It was the numbers of the clock, the Spirit Wielders. Those here, yet not.

  The ones who haunted my dreams, just like the Negs that had brought me to this realm and to this destiny to begin with.

  “Why?” I screamed, my voice ragged.

  It wasn’t until right then that I realized I had been screaming the entire time. Wails and calls as I tried to wake up. As I attempted to figure out exactly what had happened.

  “Why are they dead? I thought they were supposed to be safe. Why weren’t they safe?”

  “No one is truly safe, my darling,” one of the Spirit Wielders whispered, and I turned my head towards her, Fire licking at my fingertips.

  I knew this was a dream, I knew this wasn’t real, even though it had to be somewhat real because I could feel it.

  Maybe it was happening even as it wasn’t.

  “Why are they dead? They had nothing to do with this. We wiped their memories. They were supposed to be free. Was it all fake? They couldn’t really be there. They couldn’t be there.”
<
br />   I screamed again, tears sliding down my cheeks as my knees buckled. I fell, my hands digging into the floor beneath my skin even as my Earth Wielding shook.

  “It was real. I’m so sorry, my darling. Perhaps it was supposed to be this way. It shouldn’t have been, and I’m sorry they were taken. But you have to be strong. You have to fight through this. So many are counting on you. You are counting on yourself. Be strong, my darling.”

  I was no one’s darling. The only people who could call me that were now gone. I had seen their necks twist, heard the crack of vertebrae echo in the air and my ears as that monster killed them. He had used smoke and magic and things I didn’t understand, and he had taken my parents from me.

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t take in oxygen, and as the dots overtook my vision, I tried to suck in a breath. It wasn’t working. I couldn’t breathe. Why was this happening?

  They couldn’t be gone.

  Flashbacks from when I was a child, little smiles from my mother as she looked at my father, assaulted me. The put-on frown as my dad was forced to eat peas because I needed to eat them. He never liked peas.

  Images of Christmases when we opened gifts and smiled and laughed and ignored the dangers out in the world because they didn’t affect us directly. Weren’t anything that could touch us.

  Memories of my mother dancing with my father in the kitchen late at night when I was supposed to be sleeping.

  When my mom yelled at me for breaking a dish when I shouldn’t have been playing with her expensive wedding china. I’d wanted a tea party with my friends, even if they were imaginary.

  She had yelled, and then she had held me, crying. And I’d cried with her because I was so afraid. So scared that she wouldn’t love me anymore because I wanted to play a game and broke her dish.

  She’d helped me clean up the pieces and wiped my tears, and then she held me as we read. The next time I wanted to play tea, she was there with a plastic tea set. She had always been there.