Magic crackles, the fire spluttering. Jinx growls and it echoes like it’s from a great distance away. I try to call out to my familiar, but encounter a wall in my mind. My breath catches before speeding. Fingers tremble as blood drips down to the lengthening pool of red beneath me. It pushes against the boundary of the chalk, bubbling up. Too much is draining from me. I’m going to faint.
The chalk’s light shifts. Darker. Colder. Disturbing slurping has me shivering as yawning horror threatens to steal my mind. The circle drinks the pooling blood in deep, gulping draws. I thrash against the magic’s hold, but it’s no use. I’m pinned like an insect on display.
A visceral sludge crawls up my knees. My breath pants and I try again, my magic surging and battering against my prison. Cold fire crackles in my chest, the Entropy Flame building within me as I summon it, but it does not emerge.
The flame turns inward instead and tests the fissure between my soul halves. A tear escapes from the corner of my eye. My attention is divided, battling the black flame within me and the curse crawling along my flesh. I’m just one woman, alone in this war. Doubt flickers and a soundless sob escapes.
The black oil moves leisurely, seeping into each slice on my skin. Panic seizes me when it slides inside my veins. My mouth stretches in a silent scream, green glowing from my eyes as I try to force it out, try to rein in control of my mutinous black flame, try to save myself with everything I have.
Jinx snarls and surges, but collapses on the floor in a pile of fur. The forlorn howl from my familiar has dread closing my throat. I’m shaking, tears burning down my face and the oil drinks them. It pours into my eyes and the green sputters before going out. The foul, rotting taste fills my mouth and I’m gone, devoured by my vengeance.
My father was right. I’m an arrogant fool who thought I could trick magic out of its price. I dared to believe that I was above the laws of magic. And now, I pay.
I fall deeper and deeper into the ocean of black oil. Swimming is futile, my limbs sluggish and body hazy. Time is meaningless within this darkness. I merely exist in the endless abyss, unsure if it’s been hours or years.
A film like the edge of a bubble touches my back. It bows with the weight of me before giving way. It slides over my body, birthing me into an arid brightness. Instead of falling, I stumble to my feet. The upside-down world rights itself and I look around the vast empty whiteness of it all.
The back of my neck prickles and I whip around. Alasdair smiles at me. He’s as I remember seven years ago. Smile effortless, green eyes clear and crinkled. There’s a dimple in hisleft cheek that girls used to sigh over. His combed-back gold hair can’t be fully tamed, and an errant curl falls across his forehead. I used to spring it to piss him off and I’d laugh at his scowl before he would laugh, too.
He was handsome then. Strong, broad, his shoulders stretching his shirts. We’re the same height, and when we were together, people used to say we were like two sides of the same coin.
A crystal tumbler is in his left hand and he’s holding it out to me in a toast. He doesn’t move; he doesn’t breathe. Like a statue in this empty, white place. I step closer, head tilting as I examine him. I recognize this moment, like a snapshot in my mind. It was after I’d lured him into a private parlor under the guise of making amends. He was so willing to join me, even asked why I missed all the celebrations over the last few days as if he was oblivious to our father muzzling me.
He never suspected that I laced his drink with a powerful sedative.
The same foreign feeling from earlier surges. My breath shudders and my voice cracks. “You only ever wanted to be my brother.” My lip trembles. “And Ihatedyou for it.”
Alasdair doesn’t move. I near him, unable to stop the words from pouring from my lips. “Always so fucking happy in your own mediocrity. It was sickening to watch.”
The feeling builds, surging with a wave of sickness. Instead of vomit, words come out. “I wish you’d fought me. I wish you didn’t want to trust me. It would’ve been so much easier if you proved to be a true adversary and not—” I wave my hand over him. “This kind fool.”
My breath rushes out, throat working rhythmically. “You would’ve fallen to ruin as Archweaver. You didn’t have the stomach for the games of the Order. Hell, Emilia would’ve eatenyou alive as your wife.” My lip curls. “You should thank me. I saved you from a different kind of horror.”
The smile is unwavering, the hopeful glint in his eyes mocking me. I’d cheered his success at being Heir and he countered with, “To us. The Androclaria siblings. Together, we’ll bring a new dawn of magic, just like Papa and Viola.” My throat clenches as I stare at the memory of my brother. My stupid, kind brother.
I turn my back on him. Nothing but blank whiteness greets me. My voice echoes. “What’s the point of bringing me here? To taunt me? Torture me?” I laugh. “It won’t work. I have no regret for what I did.” My chin rises. “They deserved it. My fatherdeservesit.”
A familiar voice responds, “That’s what I love about you.”
I whip around. Alasdair is still in his frozen state. I spin slowly. The prickling of awareness is unnerving.
“You’re such a vicious little thing.”
I turn back to Alasdair and my stomach plummets. The cursed version of him leans against his younger form, a stick-thin arm resting on Alasdair’s broad shoulder. I tense, angling my body away. It’snotAlasdair. It’s something… unnatural.
The curse smiles. “You don’t like what you see? Mother, I’m wounded.”
My brows lift. “Mother?”
“Of course.” The curse pushes off Alasdair and saunters to me in his dirty clothes. “You birthed me. Fed me like a newborn suckling from a teat.” His mouth splits into that too-wide smile, his eyes turning all black with an unnatural glint. “Drop by drop. Much more than a soul’s worth. It’s how I became so strong.”
Valen had called it bloated and a chill shivers my spine. “Is that how you’re sentient?”
“Oh, yes. You gestated me quite nicely.”
“I thought you said I birthed you.”
He waves a bony hand. “Semantics. I must admit, I’m surprised that you attempted to banish me.” He’s close, too close. I resist the urge to step back. “After everything I’ve done for you.” He nods towards Alasdair. “Oh, suchsufferingI caused him. He used to weep. It was delicious.” He giggles. “And then your father would try to force me from him and it shredded his insides.” His eyes flare. “Would you like to see?”
