“You’ve worked it out?”
“And you haven’t?” Tomin rolled his eyes. “Lord, you are really just like your mother. Unable to look at the truth before you. Blinded by your care for others, that you cannot see the chance of salvation standing before you.”
“Cut the dramatics.”
“What would be the fun in that, son? I could continue, if you like, by listing all the other pathetic and, quite frankly, irritating tendencies your mother passed on to you if that helps.”
He was still goading me.
I knew that the box of matches had something to do with getting out of this trial. It was the key Bahmet wanted us to find. If only I could take it out of his hands.
Before I could begin to piece together the puzzle, a scream cut through the night. To our right, down the long row of gravestones, a person was running.
Towards us.
Naturally drawn to fear, I stepped towards them. They were waving their hands over their head frantically.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to make out the fine details of a face through the haze. Behind them, a wall of fog seemed to be giving chase. Except the fog was heavy and obviously unnatural. It shook the ground, the closer it got, like the stampede of a thousand feet.
“It looks like Hector found you first,” Tomin sneered. I hated how that name weighed on my soul when spoken by a man who didn’t deserve it to grace his lips. “This is our chance to get out, Arwyn. Are you coming?”
Hold on, is that concern I heard in my father’s voice?“Stupid question.”
“Leave them.” Harsh hands reached out for me. The moment his fingers touched my wrist I wanted to combust. “Their retribution is nipping at their heels. Ours is yet to find us.”
There was no way I was going. Not yet. If the person running towards us was Hector, there was no way I was leaving. Except, deep down, I knew it wasn’t him. I had Hector’s body memorised, his height, the gait of his run, the shape of his shoulders. But there were other options. My coven extended further than the man I loved.
“Now, son.” His unkind hand pinched harder at my arm and attempted to pull me back.
I ripped myself out of his grasp, fist balled once again, the urge to pummel his face a siren song in my head. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.”
Tomin staggered back, a crease set between his brows. “I really thought this was the opportunity to bond for you and me. I guess that hope was misplaced.” His eyes stretched out beyond me, to the person who was so close now their screams of terror were potent. I still couldn’t see what was chasing them, but I felt something.
Hot breath, decay and rot.
“That chance died a very long time ago, Father. In fact, you buried any hope of a relationship between us the first time you raised a fist against me. It perished with every command you gave me, every bruise and cut… every bastard time you asked me to do something no child should ever do to their own parent.”
Tomin paused, fingers fumbling with the matchbox. I let my reply sink in, half expecting disappointment, but even now I could see my jibe hadn’t hurt him.
“So be it,” he said, finally drawing his eyes off me and to the box of matches in his hand.
In a blink, a match was between his thumb and finger. With a swift slice, he dragged it along the rough edge of the box until a small flame burst to life. All in a second, Tomin lifted the single, pathetic flame to his face. It licked across his skin, unsure if he was worthy of cleansing. And then he erupted in fire.
It was as if his body was drenched in oil. Up he went, a pillar of burning flesh, scorching heat and silent screams.
To our side, another unnatural fire started. One of the pyres exploded in light and heat, so potent that I shielded my face from the scorch. I was forced to turn away, only for a moment. By the time I looked back, the only evidence that my father had ever been here was the charred mark left on the floor where he’d stood.
There was no time to work out what had just happened.
“They killed… Run!”
A body barrelled into me, forcing me back into a gravestone. My shins screamed as stone cracked against bone. Even if I wanted to listen to the fleeing person, I couldn’t act as all feeling went out from beneath me.
As the singular pyre continued to burn, I finally got a glimpse at the strange wall of fog. Except, it wasn’t fog at all.
It was bodies, a writhing mass of corpses, clambering over one another.
And they were close.Soclose I could hear the gnashing of their teeth, smell the death in their lifeless bodies. Darkness seemed to drag behind them like a cloak of endless night ready to devour all.
