Chapter 10
I am barely able to contain both Jodelle and Caria as Jodelle reaches for her. I hardly make it in time, fending Jodelle off. That woman is going to be the death of me if she keeps performing this erratic behavior. If I hadn’t leaped in front of Jodelle, Caria would not have been able to contain her lethal death magic; those shadows of hers came awfully close; I felt the sensation. The event keeps repeating itself in my mind—the sadness on Caria’s face. My heart weeps at the thought still. It feels like my heart and mind are fighting a conflict while I wait impatiently for the outcome of that waging war.
Harlot takes out her frustration toward me on Jodelle by egging her on about my friendship with Caria. Before I even realize what is happening, Jodelle has already run down the stairs in a raging fit, ignoring her hurt, frail body. She goes straight for Caria’s neck, her fragile little fingers stretching, trying to take hold. Caria doesn’t even notice Jodelle closing in on her, but her merciless shadows do; those black tendrils are filled with a need to pounce. It occurs so fast, the dark, smoky shadows a blur as they release themselves from Caria’s body, themarkings hazy. The way Jodelle slams into the chairs and tables breaks them, despite her body weight, solely from the power and impact of the crash. I’ve never suffered from such terror in my life. That crazy woman jumping right up, high on adrenaline, not even wincing, shadows clouding her, suffocating her. Jodelle is clawing at her own throat as she fights to inhale air.
Breathing is hard as I jump in with her into those deathly swirling shadows. They immediately start curling around us like a vortex. I can't lose her, not Jodelle, not after I have just found her. There is still too much to explore, to learn about her, to love. I see her lips turning blue as she is choking, drowning in the shadows that fill her lungs, her skin turning an ashen color. I scream at Caria in alarm to stop this madness and plead with her not to kill Jodelle, to kill me. I beg her to take my life instead of hers. If her shadows are out of control, ravenous for blood, to devour mine.
Caria’s piercing howls of torture settle into my mind as I see the grimace on her face as she forces her shadows down, back on her flesh, fulfilling my plea.
An image I will never be able to get off my retina, her contorted face of agony, the pain she endures, becauseIask her to. Those golden eyes, once gleaming, are now submerged in a sadness, a fear that I know is for me, for the choice I have made. I push Jodelle behind me as I keep my gaze on those golden orbs, trusting her that she has no intention of hurting me, and if she does, I conclude I will forgive her, absolve her; I will never be able to repay her for the gift she has granted me. Sparing the life of the woman I love.
Jodelle starts to shout at Caria instead, obscenely, causing a scene. I feel my face flush with embarrassment and my heart flutter with excitement that she is willing to protect what is hers, even if she is unable to win the fight.
“You filthy blood whore, do you think a man like him would have interest in a freak like you?!” Jodelle shouts with venom.
“Come on, Jodelle. Caria did not do anything wrong,” I say to her.
The glare she gives me in response makes me cower.
“A man like him deserves a commoner like you? A nobody who can’t even protect him in this city if he needs it? Yeah, you are a real treat,” Caria spits back. “You’re lucky Fynn was willing to intervene, you dumb bitch; my shadows would have devoured you, leaving nothing but some broken bones behind. You would not be standing there if it weren’t for him, so some gratitude is in order.”
“Caria, please, don’t. Don’t threaten her like that,” I plead with Caria instead.
The sadness in her eyes shatters my heart; I only now realize I’ve taken a liking to the witch—perhaps a bit too much, I conclude. Although I belong with Jodelle, the look on Caria’s face stings, and it is an ache I will carry along with me against my will.
Jodelle continues to swear and mock Caria, who’s now shrouding herself in silence, trying to disregard Jodelle. Caria’s silent behavior only encourages Jodelle as she stands tall behind me, her shield, cursing her instead of accepting the truce offered. At that moment, as she refuses to relent, I feel a hate for Jodelle bubbling up, carving itself into my heart, once unscathed, now with a nick. I pray it will not start to fester. The emotion takes me by surprise; how easily the thin line between pride and revulsion breaks apart, the feeling of delight dissipating, and is replaced by hate.
“Fynn, take her away. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my shadows; their refusal to stay with me is becoming stronger. I won’t be able to retreat them again,” she tells me in a calm, cold voice, only addressing me.
“Caria…” I choke.
“NOW, FYNN! Take.her.away.from.me!” She shouts, curdled.
Her breathing becomes ragged as she fights to keep the restraints she puts on her potent magic. Caria grabs the wooden counter, her knuckles turning white from the sheer force of the pressure she is exerting. I hear the wood splinter under her grip, black smoke curling around her fingers, escaping, freeing itself.
I seize Jodelle, ignoring her protest, throw her over my shoulder, and urge Mother, who’s standing at the stairs, witnessing all the chaos, to go upstairs, fast.
With a scowl, I dump Jodelle harshly on the bed and instruct my mother to keep her in this room. Under no circumstances do I want to see either of them downstairs; it’s unsafe for them.
Harlot looks at us innocently, asking us what happened. By the old Gods do I hate my sister; it is her fault all of this happened, and the little bitch knows it. After Mother finishes explaining, Harlot warns me to stay out of her business, then disappears. I wish she wouldn’t be present lately. Harlot makes me uneasy, and those eyes of hers are as if they are no longer just her own. I feel constantly watched whenever she's around, as if my every move is being tracked.
I turn to Jodelle, who sits on the bed like a spoiled brat, her arms folded and her head high as she tries to stare me down, but this time, I’m not having any of it. She acted like a maniacal idiot.
“She could have killed you. Do you understand that?! She’s a youngling, a young witch; she’s not yet able to fully control her powers. Damnit, Jodelle! And why did you have to keep going even after she retreated her magic? Why, for fuck’s sake?” I bark at her.
“You seem to know an awful lot about her. Perhapsyoucould explain why that is, hmm? You’re mine, but that Blood Witch seems to think differently, Fynn. I had to make that clear since you apparently do not,” Jodelle hisses, her fists clenched.
She pouts at me like a child who has been scolded for her behavior. I run my hand through my hair, shaking my head. I want to smack her, hard, but I don’t. Mother keeps babbling.
“Mother, Jodelle, both of you, stay put.”
The finality in my voice makes them both shut up, and I leave.
I look around the premises, but Caria is nowhere to be found, and none of the creatures dare to speak to me after seeing me defying a Death Witch, especially a youngling with hardly any control. It means I am either stronger than her or a complete moron, making me a wildcard to handle. I go outside and traverse the streets, and that’s when I find her, sitting on one of the wooden benches placed around the square, staring at a murder of abnormally large crows, mutated by the darkness after the war, picking at a carcass's rotting organs. The black birds caw in delight at the meal that’s served every day as they pull the flesh from gaping wounds.
“Some people would think that’s morbid, you know,” I say casually as I plop next to her.
“Don’t, Fynn. Don’t act like you care, like you are my friend,” she says sadly.
