Looking at the guys, their stunned expressions quickly devolved into dark glares. Both their mouths were moving, but I couldn’t hear what they were shouting.
I had barely shifted to take a step towards them when Noraline’s bony fingers wrapped around my elbow. Her grip was steadfast, holding more strength than it should have.
The crazy bitch whispered to me, “Their words have been silenced. Now to silence their reign over the fields.” She paused a meaningful beat before smirking. “Unless you want to reconsider our earlier discussion?”
“Fuck. You.” Glancing over at the mayor. “Give me the match to light this bitch up.” Whether I meant the woman on the other side of me or the bonfire, I wasn’t even sure. Ideally? Both.
Mayor Dennison waved Chad and Malcolm over, both of them whispering to one another as they patted down their pockets. Ultimately, it was Chad who found the box of long matches and handed it over to his father.
Noraline giggled to herself as she pulled a book from underneath her arm.
The exterior cover was mottled leather, marred from years of overhandling. No visible text on the outside, but when she flipped it open, the pages were even older. From where I stood, even without touching them, it looked like they were made from the rare practice of pressing cornleaves into paper. Even the oily appearing ink etched into them was strange, the hues bearing something unrecognizable and perhaps otherworldly. The words were more like rudimentary symbols, leaving their meaning unknown.
Without looking at me as she stared fondly at the pages before her, she spoke with a subdued casualness. “Are you sure you’re in a rush to burn the strawman and crow along with their curse?”
I froze. Certain that not even my heart dared to beat.
“Oh, did I not mention that those fields will scorch and char when the curse is cleared? It will take their souls with it, straight down to the soil. Burying all their sins with it. Must have slipped my mind.” She looked at me with false innocence shimmering in her eyes.
My biggest fear. Not only losing Corbin and Bale, but being the one to destroy them.
On my left, the mayor nudged me to capture my attention. He held out a single unlit match, almost a foot long.
Staring at it like it might spontaneously combust, Noraline recited some bizarre words beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her tightly clutch the book to her chest with one hand. Too tightly.
With her other hand, she reached deeply into a hidden pocket of her dress. Pulling it back out, she had a handful of red powder, something that looked like crushed brick dust. She proceeded to toss it onto the carefully stacked woodpile.
“You’re going to wish I never made it out of thatmaze,” I said with no effort to disguise the threat in my tone as I pointed at the unlit match at Noraline. I watched as she subtly curved her shoulder around the book in her hands protectively.
Interesting.
All eyes were on me now as I was offered the striking pad for the match between my fingers. I looked over at Corbin and Bale, barred inside the confines of the corn, and who could only bear witness to whatever came next.
I ignored the trembling in my hands as I jerkily struck the match head against the rough patch on the edge of the box held out by the mayor.
All it took was one attempt, and the flame flared to life.
The fire burned bright as it danced on the head of the match. Each flick and flutter taunted me with how little time I had to make my decision and how long I had to live with it.
I was never meant to be standing here. The Town Council never expected me to make it out alive. But for Corbin and Bale? There was never any other outcome.
Each second burned another centimeter of time allotted. Just beyond my focus was the massive pile of reckoning waiting to be set ablaze. All while the guys nodded with resignation of their fate settling over them. Bale nodded at me.
End it.
“Here’s the thing, Noraline,” I said. Speaking her name like it was a curse of my own. “Cats have nine livesto do with as they please, and I’ll dedicate each one of mine to seeing an end to yours. Let’s see whose luck survives.”
I tossed the match and lit the bonfire.
The dry timber didn’t take long to catch. The smoke rose across the early morning sky, painted with pinks and oranges. Smaller flames swelled into larger ones, growing with intense heat.
While Noraline smugly witnessed the ceremonial burn, I snatched the coveted book from her hands. Without a second thought, I tossed it into the inferno.
Fun fact: pages made of corn leaves burn almost instantly.
Noraline’s pained shrieking may have been ear-piercing, but it still drew a satisfied grin from me.
She sank to her knees, hands clutching at thin air like I had just destroyed the only thing she had ever cared about. And maybe I had.
