“Thanks,” I hum. We walk into the bathroom, and I immediately lock the door, leaning against it as I throw out a spell to enforce the lock and a cloaking spell so no one can eavesdrop on me. The room is pretty decently furnished and about the size of ours back in the dorm, with a garden tub, a walk-in shower, a double vanity, and a water closet for the toilet. Still unimpressed with it all, I walk over to the sink and splash cold water onto my face.
How in the hell did I wind up in this mess? Where is my family? If I asked Emer, would she tell me? Would she even know?Am I stuck finishing the Gauntlet with her and her stooges?
A sharp stab in my chest pulls me out of my inner turmoil.I really should check this sore and apply more salve.Carefully taking off my corset, I pull back the bandage I placed and gag at the smell. Reaper whines, and I meet his eyes in the mirror.
“Yeah, buddy. I know, and I’m sorry it smells. I’ll clean it, but let’s get you situated first.” I pull his leash from underneath him, attach it, and give him a few pats before returning to the bathroom counter.
Festering rot is the best way to describe the pulsing ichor that sits above my heart. I pull out cleaning supplies from my S.I.N. box and start scrubbing at my wound the best I can, but even with me meticulously cleaning off Hell’s remnants, I don’t feel any cleaner. I feel as if I’m tainted, as though my soul is dirtier somehow. Watching the edges of the wound silently move as if it’s breathing, I wonder how much this evil will change me and how, if anything, I will cure myself of this.
Reapplying the salve Dr. Steinbeck gave me doesn’t alleviate the pain. It only makes it redder and more irritated, causing me to wince. Emer said I would feel this pain until Rez was out of my system and truly hers, but in what way did she mean? Physically? Mentally? Emotionally? That could never happen. What Rez and I have is deeper than me just picking her over Emer. Our magic has accepted each other, and apparently, we’re even bonded deeper into an old prophecy, according to Mother.
But then again, I am losing memories of us, of our time. Maybe there is something to what Emer said. Maybe her potion is somehow stronger than my Horseman.
“Gah!” I scream and hit the mirror, shattering it. As pieces slowly break off and fall to the counter surface, I can’t help but see the resemblance to my tattered soul and the hope I have left. MaybeI’mnot strong enough.
As thoughts of my Horseman cross my mind, movement catches my eye in the shattered remnants of the mirror—the tattoo on my left hip flares with heat. Red flames swirl around Famine’s robe as he effortlessly remains on his black stallion while it rears up on its hind legs on my skin. The golden scales of justice, the simple, plain design, shift back and forth in Famine’s hand as his cloak flutters around his head. Glowing hazel eyes meet mine in what’s left of the mirror as thoughts gently probe my shield. Famine nods in answer to my silent question of whether it’s him trying to reach me, and I drop my shield.
‘I find your soul innocent but tainted with poison. What has happened?’a deep, wispy voice rings out inside my head.
If I hadn’t gone through Hell and the Road of Worth or learned what I have recently with Ryker’s Horseman talking to him, I would be in shock that my tattoo is talking to me. But thankfully, being mated to Rez, my brothers being outed as the new Horsemen, knowing a DoorKnight has become arealman,and meeting a Storm Shifter with whom I’m in good graces has prepared me pretty well for this moment.
‘I took a drink willingly to find out what poison was given to Rez, and the side effects are somewhat brutal,’I admit, hating the fact that I did this to myself, but knowing I would do it again to give her whatever information she needs.
‘Ah, sacrifice for love. I see,’he tells me, his eyes glued on me even as I track his scales as they shift to the right and glow brighter.‘An honest and true quality worthy of a sacrifice,’he chuckles, a dark hollow echo, before continuing.‘Here is your first lesson on recycling the Earth.’
‘What do you mean by recycling the Earth? What does that have to do with anything?’
‘In this instance, everything. Do you want to repeat my mistake and take too much, darkening your soul? Corrupting you and leaving you vulnerable with such limited knowledge and relationship with our Mother Earth?’He stares at me and raises an eyebrow, and my jaw wobbles in thin air, as I draw a blank.‘I didn’t think so,’he scoffs.
‘What happens if I fail to recycle?’I ask. I’ve never been scared of outperforming or doing well on a task; it's the failure that scares me.
‘Then I’ll have to find a new vessel because yours will no longer be of use,’he says simply, and talk about a slap in the face for a wake-up call. In a way, I can’t help but respect him a little bit more for being straight to the point with me.
I nod my understanding, and he continues.
‘Now, let’s begin so you may filter out some of this pain and purge this taint out of you.’
A thrill goes through me that I’m actually speaking to and am about to learn from Famine himself, or at least his spirit. I’m not sure how this works, but I’m going with it for now. I quickly puton a fresh shirt, but I leave it open so I can see my wound and tattoo.
‘Feel the earth beneath you, connect with her. Now feel that ichor that does not belong within you. Do you sense it?’
Since going through Hell and becoming stronger, feeling the Earth hasn’t been a struggle at all; it’s always been in the back of my mind. The ease of sensing it is the same as wearing a suit for me, like now. It’s always there.
Now, the ichor feels like an itchy and constant burn against my skin; it’s more of a nuisance than anything else. Like a fly constantly orbiting your personal space when the open window is right next to you.
‘Yes, I feel both,’I tell him as I fiddle with one of the cufflinks that Rez made me. My corset is lying on the counter, ready to go, but I already feel as if I’m wearing a set of armor, yet I can’t help the small rocking back and forth in my boots from the anxiety riding me.
‘What you will be doing is purging yourself over a period of time and asking the Earth to cleanse you and the magic in return for its cooperation; building a stronger relationship with her. The more taint that the Earth receives and cleanses into herself, the stronger she becomes as she balances herself once again.’
‘That’s a thing?’I ask, confused. It’s almost like he’s saying the Earth is a sentient being.
‘She is, in her own way. She’s not like the DoorKnights or other objects, but she is sentient. She does react, she has feelings, and if she wishes, she can even hear this conversation,’he explains. ‘Nowvisualizereaching down and pinching off a small piece of that ichor. Not too big, like the size of a pebble.’
‘Why? Will it hurt her if I take too much?’I ask, worried that I could be hurting the Earth more than a Mage normally could.
‘Mother Earth is resilient, but until you have a better relationship with her, I would not force too much on her. So once you have your piece, wrap your magic around the pebble and plant it into the ground as you pull a small amount of the Earth’s energy into you.’
Following his directions, I magically pinch off the poison that’s in me. Mentally wrapping it with my magic, I push it into the ground and immediately feel light, crisp, and warm energy flow into me. It’s as if I took a shot of straight adrenaline as I’m standing in the middle of a small brook surrounded by thousands of trees with the sun beating down on me. I don’t know how else to explain it except for perfect. The pain lessens. I even feel a little lighter, and as I look into a shard of the broken mirror, my color seems less pallid.
