“Let’s say birdies are eager to chirp for me when I ask them… politely,” he chuckles, and I shake my head.
Of course, other witches would rather have pointed in the direction he seeks than become collateral damage in his mission to find me. I can’t even blame them.
I ask instead, “Where are we going?”
“Tsk, such a curious little witch. You’ll see.”
The rest of our walk is in silence, while hushed susurrations and glances with dread follow us as we cross the city and pass through the large stone gate. I feel like a prisoner being escorted in invisible shackles. I slow my pace as we near the compound, but to my surprise, we keep walking, and it dawns on me that we are heading for the flower field, the lake, the place where Fynn almost killed me. I pause.
“Where are we going?” I ask again, but this time the words come out hoarse.
He flashes a grin at me, revealing his sharp teeth, his green eyes eerily cold, void of any emotion. He licks his canines, almost as if in anticipation.
“I’m fulfilling a request for a good friend of mine, I believe you and I have him in common.”
I freeze as the trauma from my last encounter with Fynn takes over, triggering my flight instinct. I start to step back.
“No, no, no,” I breathe softly. “I can’t face him again, please, I’m begging you.”
“Don’t make this harder than it is, Death witch,” he says.
If I didn’t know better, it would almost sound kind, sorrowful, as if he, too, regrets what’s about to come.
He reaches for me, and I jerk back.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I sneer.
This time, my stubborn shadows do lash out. The dhampir grins, raises his hand, and his skin starts to peel away, revealing the darkness inside. An unseen force pulls at my smoky tendrils, which stay protectively around me. Somehow, they remain on my skin. I feel the force wrench at them, but they don’t budge. I observe the brief bewilderment on the monster’s features as he tries to understand what’s happening.
He snatches his hand shut, his long fingers clenched tightly as the void closes. His translucent skin knits itself together in the process.
“Come,” is all he says.
Meekly, but with a distance between us, I do as he tells me. Each step toward the field makes my skin shiver, and the moment the scent hits my nostrils, I feel bile rising, my trauma wide awake. Once, this place was magical to me, a place of solace, but now, it is tainted by a nightmare I can’t get away from.
I sense him before he even comes into vision…Fynn. His energy, it sits like tinder, ready to ignite into a thunderous storm of violence. I feel my jaw tense up as I lift my gaze and meet his eyes, darkened and ominous. He stands under one of the weeping willows, the tree shedding its tears, feeding the treacherous lake. I swallow hard as a lump forms in my throat, my entire body meets every step with resistance, as the dhampir and I continue walking toward him, closing the distance. I try to keep my head high, but a knot forms in my stomach, and my throat is as dry as parchment.
“I’ve missed you, my little Death witch,” Fynn says, his voice sounding almost sincere.
“So, you decided to sendhimto fetch me?” I sneer with a grimace, despite the coiling fear inside of me.
“How else was I meant to find you? You hid from me…”
When I don’t respond, he continues. “We still have unfinished business… This place… So many memories, but it doesn’t have to end badly for us, Caria. We can plant more happy memories here until they cover up that one tiny bad one. Let's forget our last encounter…”
Those words grab my attention, a sadness woven into them, but I can’t pinpoint if it’s sincere or not. My eyes flick between him and the dhampir, my shadows wrapping around me instantly, protecting me.
“There’s only one way out for you…” Fynn says, and he pauses for effect, making sure he has my full attention. His ego is loud. “Call out to the Umbra. I’ll gladly finish my business with my sister rather than with you. Your life for hers. Sounds like a fair trade, right? By doing that, you’ll grant yourself a happily ever after.”
I furrow my brows. “I don’t know how to call out to him, Fynn. You know my magic is fickle; it acts on its own account. Besides, do you think the Umbra would allow that to happen? You honestly believe he’ll come out here again, to such an evident trap?”
“And you, I thought you had no intention of provoking the Umbra? What changed?” I ask, turning my head to the dhampir.
“Stay out of affairs that don’t concern you, youngling. Do as you’re told, and survive this day,” he says. “Tick Tock.”
I feel an icy sensation ripple underneath my skin, but when I eye it, nothing shows. All I know is that it means Reiner is nearer than I expected. I try to force my shadows to call out to the Umbra, but they refuse, their submission to him moreprominent than to me. They are fully aware that it will bring him into a perilous situation. Sweat beads begin to collect on my forehead as Fynn watches me with scrutiny, and the dhampir observes my every move as well.
“Come on,” I murmur, doing my best to entice my magic to listen to me for once, but its silence is deafening.
