‘You didn’t sacrifice anything,’ I yelled back, turning to face her with fierce eyes. ‘My parents are the ones who paid with their lives.’
‘I loved my son,’ she roared, full of pain and rage. ‘Paul left me no choice. Losing himwasmy sacrifice, taking his life almost killed me in more ways than one. I almost died to bring you here.’
I forced out a cruel laugh.
‘And that would have been a real shame.’
‘The mouth on you. Just like your mother,’ Catherine said scornfully as I pushed my hair away from my face, my hastily tied ponytail coming loose. ‘If you weren’t in Savannah right this very second, your magic would have passed, taking mine along with it. Your father should have been proud to call you a witch but instead he hid you away, denying who and what you are. What was I supposed to do, betray our ancestors? Let the line die?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, scouring the chapel floor for something that might help Wyn. He was fading fast and I didn’t dare leave his side. ‘Nothing lasts forever, maybe it was time. Maybe our magic was supposed to end.’
‘And that’s how I know you do not deserve it.’
Catherine rose from her chair and raised her arms. At the other end of the aisle, a sheet of rock slammed down from the ceiling, sealing us all inside. ‘You don’t understand. Selfish, just like the rest of your generation. No concept of making a sacrifice for the greater good.’
Above us, I felt the moon rise to its highest peak and fire scorched every cell in my body from the inside out. My limbs seized up and I collapsed on the floor beside Wyn.
‘I should have told you this part can sting,’ Catherine said, her words far away, crackling through a different channel than the one I was tuned in to. ‘After a witch passes through the archway and the moon is at its peak, she is more vulnerable until the exchange of blood. As I recall, it burns a little. Mostly the exchange occurs right away but I thought this might do you some good. Spare the rod, spoil the child as they say. Try not to fight, it’ll be over soon and you won’t feel anything much at all.’
Not even the marble floor of the chapel could cool me. I’d never known pain like it, the heat scalding my skin like I’d been tossed in a pot of boiling oil, and melting my insides at the same time.
‘Once we exchange blood, the Becoming will be complete and I will be forced to resolve this issue. I wish things had been different, Emily, I really do. Today should’ve been a celebration.’
Helpless and overwhelmed, I was only able to keep my eyes open for a second but a second was enough. There was a crack in the wall, then the smallest possible split in the stone, and a single tendril of Spanish moss pushed its way through and crept along the ground towards me.
‘What happens next?’ I forced the words out of my bone dry throat, fighting off the excruciating pain one agonizing breath at a time. The moss was moving at such a slow pace, I had to give it a chance. I needed more time. ‘If you try to bind me, I’ll drain you.’
‘No, you won’t. Not unless you want me to end your boy’s suffering right now,’ Catherine said. ‘I can end Lydia’s life also, if you would prefer.’
Focusing only on the moss and not the horror of her threats, I said nothing.
‘It won’t be enough to simply bind you. You’re already so strong, I can’t begin to imagine what strength you’ll have after the ritual is complete. Too much for anything so basic. Luckily, I found something else inspired by our friend Elizabeth Howell. When her sisters tried to bind her, she was too strong to be contained, but I believe, if I combine the binding and draining spells, things will go just fine. For me, anyway. How does that sound?’
‘Not great,’ I answered with a grunt.
‘No, I suspect it won’t be.’ She stood to set the pin back on the altar. ‘You can’t return to Bell House, it would never approve of what I’m about to do, so I’ll keep you down here where you’ll be safe – not dead but it’s no real life – and drain your magic back into me over time rather than all at once. Kind of a slow drip, nice and steady. That should avoid any combustible side effects. Perhaps one day, a long time from now, we’ll revisit our arrangement. I can’t say for sure what impact draining your magic will have on your mental capacity but I imagine you’ll be more, shall we say, compliant?’
I reached one more time but the moss was still beyond my grasp. With a sob of despair, I twisted around onto my back and looked up. In my delirium, I could see through the stone ceiling and up into the sky. The moon shone brighter than any sun and I felt its cool, soothing power against my scalding skin. Then, something soft and feathery brushed against my fingers and the furnace inside me flared again. The Spanish moss.
‘Catherine, I’m sorry,’ I said, fighting for time as Wyn’s breathing made a sharp and erratic shift. The moss wound itself around my hand, circling my wrist and creeping up my arm. A shot of adrenaline cut straight through my pain, sharpas steel. ‘You were right, I was wrong. The magic is the only thing that matters, I get it now. Don’t you think I’ve learned my lesson?’
‘Don’t you think I’ve learned mine?’ she snapped. ‘Actions speak louder than words, young lady, and yours cannot be trusted. This is the only way.’
As she busied herself at the altar, I forced myself to move, shuffling around to the other side of Wyn’s broken body. Vines snaked around me, reviving and renewing, lending me their resilience. Above ground, the full moon set Bonaventure alight, but not with the black flames I’d foreseen. Every leaf on every tree curled in my direction and all the Spanish moss in Savannah burned with a brilliant white light, and all of that light poured into this chapel, through my body and into Wyn.
‘I’d love to say it won’t hurt,’ Catherine said with her back to me, full of regret as she took inventory of her supplies. ‘But that would be a lie. The herbs alone aren’t exactly friendly. Belladonna, snap dragon, fly agaric …’
Wyn’s screams tore through the chapel as I touched one finger to the silver that bound him. The vines knew what to do. They wended their way over to him, slipping between the wire and his wounds, creating space for him to breathe. I pulled at the loosened barbs, shredding the skin on my hands and silently screaming with this new agony. Wyn’s screams were not so quiet. As soon as the last silver barb was removed, the phase began. I turned away, unable to bear the pain in his face. When I looked back, the pain was gone and so was Wyn.
All that remained was the wolf.
‘I added a little lily of the valley to the spell to help put you to sleep,’ Catherine called as his new mouth stretched into a snarl. ‘But I don’t know what good it will do. Didn’t seem to help your boy any.’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied, crawling backwards down the aisle. ‘I think he’s doing better.’
The wolf let out a howl vicious enough to tear the fabric of my reality in two.
Before and after.
