Undone: The Complete Duology, page 15
In the old days, the pews would be full. They still were, every Sunday and Wednesday, but not today.
Today, we were alone. My falling out had been a public display; my return would be intimate.
I took my place kneeling in front of the curtain. I knew this ritual. It had been ingrained in my head twice a week every week for the duration of my life.
“Do you surrender, Grace Miller?” the Reverend asked as he stood between me and the curtain, of what waited behind it.
“I do.” The words slipped out so softly, I doubted anyone else would have heard them.
He had.
He pressed his finger into the small metal container in his hand and lifted it, covered in ash. He pressed the ash to my forehead.
“Will you do as He requests?”
“I will.”
I closed my eyes, reveling in my answer, in my return. The rest of the world slipped away, and it was just the future with Malachi.
The Reverend pressed a spot of ash to my chin.
“Will you be His ever faithful?”
“I will.”
The Reverend marked ash on my cheeks under each eye.
The curtain would be drawn next. Then it would be over: I would have returned, and I would no longer hurt, no longer fear, no longer be the sole destructive force in our quiet little town.
“And now, Gracie, all you must do is apologize.”
There it was. Rage welled up inside me.
I snapped my head up to glare up at him. “No.”
Kindness and understanding filled his face. “It is all that stands between you and everything you want. Just those small meaningless words. Tell them you’re sorry.”
I leaned back from him.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I spat.
“You broke their trust, Gracie. Broke their faith in Thorn Tree. Isn’t that worth apologizing for?”
I pushed to my feet and used the back of my hand to wipe the ash from my face. “I’m not the one who did wrong. I’m not the one who fucked up everything. I’m not—”
“You’re the only one who can fix this.”
The calmness of his voice only stirred more anger in my chest.
“Tell them the truth!” I screamed. “You know the truth!”
“Gracie, please—”
“Go to fuckin hell.” I charged down the stairs of the stage, grabbed up my bag, and fled through the pews.
The Reverend made no move to follow me. The beast never left his castle.
I knew their game now, the one I hadn’t realized was being played around me.
He’d decided Malachi would stay, so that he could use him to lure me back into the fold. Mac was a genuine soul, innocent in his own way. The Reverend could work with that.
If Mac caved—and he would, eventually—then I would be forced to follow if I wanted to be with him. They’d brought in a new agent to work an angle. Mac just didn’t realize that was his reason for being here yet.
I had to warn him.
Not that it would matter. It took everything in me every single day to resist, to survive in this town, and I only managed because I had seen the darkness underneath. Had fallen prey to it.
Mac wouldn’t go easily, but he would go, eventually. Both the Reverend and I knew that.
The messenger bag slammed against my thigh as I ran through the streets. As much as I wanted to go straight to Honey and Hive and talk to Mac, I had to stay focused.
One task at a time.
Outside Miss Gladys’ bedroom window, I crouched and peered inside. She lay in the bed, eyes closed, her breathing uneven.
Antonia slunk into the room and pressed her palm to Miss Gladys’ forehead.
“It’ll be over soon,” she said softly, before adjusting the blankets over Miss Gladys. “I have to run a few errands.”
I reached into my bag and gripped the single container holding my potion. My heart thudded faster as I considered what it was going to do.
Never in my life would I have considered I would be here, right now, with all the terrible choices I’d made behind me and so many worse ones right ahead.
Antonia left out the front door. When she was long gone and wouldn’t remember something she needed to return for right away, I let myself in through the back.
In the kitchen, I turned on the electric kettle and pawed around, leaving the light off, for a teacup and tea bags. I wiped off a serving tray with a towel before the kettle lever popped.
After I steeped the tea bag in the cup, I retrieved the container from my bag. My hands shook as I unscrewed the lid. The paste had dried into a puce colored powder.
I pulled a spoon from the drawer but halted it above the container. There would be no going back after this, but wasn’t that the point?
“Antonia?”
Miss Gladys’ voice carried down the hall, warbling a little.
I took a deep breath and sealed my lips together, forcing up the bravery to do what needed to be done.
This was the next step. The Goddess had instructed, and She hadn’t let me down like the Reverend and the god he served.
“It’s me, Miss Gladys. Gracie.”
“Gracie?”
She sounded surprised, though I couldn’t blame her. I’d already said goodbye. I had no reason to be here again.
I didn’t reply but scooped up a large spoonful of the powder and stirred it into her tea. Then I placed the teacup on a saucer before loading it up on the tray. I put the closed container back in my bag and patted it once, as if assuring myself that this was the right thing to do.
It was. It had to be. There wasn’t any other option.
Picking up the tray, I headed down the hallway to Gladys’ room.
She slowly rolled her head towards me, her breathing staggered and punctuated with grimaces.
“Hello, Miss Gladys.”
Her attention fell to the teacup. She eased herself up against the headboard, arms wobbling.
I placed the tray on her lap then sat next to her on the edge of the bed. My gaze roamed over her, taking in every grimace, every shaking, every suppressed cough.
“The painkillers aren’t working anymore?” I asked.
She gave a tight shake of her head. “It’s just the end, my dear. Death is so rarely kind.”
“Nothing in Thorn Tree is kind. Why would death be any different?”
She stared down at the teacup. “What Thorn Tree is depends on how deeply you look.”
“How do I get Mac out of here?”
The question escaped my mouth without my consent.
She raised her gaze to me. “You know the Reverend decides who comes and goes.”
“He is going to make Mac stay,” I said, panic rising in my voice. I swallowed hard, trying to regain some control. “I have to help him leave.”
I didn’t add that I would meet him on the other side, if I survived. The odds of that weren’t great.
“I don’t think it’s possible, dear,” she said softly. “The forest will never allow it unless the Reverend agrees—and it seems he has a use for Malachi.”
“To trap me!” I threw up my hands, then folded them back into my lap. The most pertinent question swam to the front of my brain. “Should I give in? Should I surrender to the church again?”
Miss Gladys watched me but did not answer.
“To save Mac,” I said. My stomach ached with the notion that I was being backed into a corner. “Is that the right thing to do, Miss Gladys?”
She reached for my hand, and I offered it to her. She took it in her palm and patted the back of my hand. “You have the last beating heart in Thorn Tree, Gracie.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and my bottom lip trembled. “I’ve done horrible things, Miss Gladys.”
It felt like a confessional.
It was.
“This is not a fight, Gracie. This is an uprising. If anyone can topple the king, it will be you.”
I looked out the window to the church on the hill that stood overlooking the entire town, keeping us in its sight, in its sphere of influence.
Keeping us prisoner.
Miss Gladys picked up the teacup with both hands.
“Thank you, Gracie,” she said over the rim, before shooting it back like a shot of whiskey.
She nestled back in her bed, and I returned the tray to the kitchen. After I washed up and returned everything back the way it was, I left out the back door and waited outside Miss Gladys’ bedroom window.
When Antonia returned to the house, she crept into Miss Gladys’ room and pressed her hand to her forehead.
She gasped, retracting her hand. Miss Gladys had stilled, finding freedom from Thorn Tree at last.
I took off through the trees, back towards town. I had to find Mac, had to warn him of what was happening. Had to tell as much as I could without giving away my involvement with Bobby’s disappearance.
He needed to know so he could resist the town for as long as he could.
As it stood now, I had to destroy Thorn Tree before they managed to steal Mac away from me forever, and somehow, in some way, figure out how to save us both from the destruction to come before it consumed us all.
19
GRACE
Early evening came darker and colder than the prior days as the brewing storm kicked up gusts of wind down the street.
With each step towards Honey and Hive brought a strange sense of relief. I would be reunited with Mac soon, and everything would be better this time. He would understand what was happening—at least, most of it.
I wouldn’t be alone anymore. And the church would not have its way. I would not play by their rules.
If I’d had any doubt about my role in the coming weeks, Miss Gladys had assuaged them.
This was it. On the next full moon, Thorn Tree would take its last collective breath as it went up in billowing flames.
My spell would end what should have never been.
Dark silhouettes filled the field across from Honey and Hive. I halted, chest tightening. An enormous wooden pergola had been erected. Underneath it stretched rows of long tables accompanied by benches.
The town had prepared for the Feast. Three more days, and Thorn Tree’s ancient tradition would take place. I had successfully managed to escape it the last few years, but the memories of all the times before were still vivid in my mind.
The Feast was not an event easily forgotten.
Outside Honey and Hive, I slunk around to locate Mac’s window. Mrs. Woolworth only kept two rooms available to boarders, though rarely even one was in use. One window to the back rooms was darkened. The other had the curtain pulled, but light snuck around the edges.
Holding my breath, I rapped on the window with one knuckle.
Cold wind kicked up around me, and I wrapped my arms around myself as my teeth chattered. The window scraped and groaned as it lifted, then Mac shoved aside the curtain all the way.
“Jesus Christ, Gracie. You scared the living hell out of me.”
Rain pelted down, and I wrinkled my face as the freezing drops went straight to my bones.
“Can I come in?” I flicked my hand towards the window.
“Yeah, of course.” He stepped back, and I tossed my messenger bag to the floor before I crawled up and over the sill. He grabbed my side and arm to help me to the floor. As he closed the windowpane, I rubbed my arms, trying to dispel the cold.
He turned to me, starting to say something. I closed the gap between us and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me. We kissed, deep and hard, and I pressed tighter against him, ready to disappear into his warmth.
He stroked the back of my head before pulling away just enough to break the kiss. “Gracie, what’s going on?”
“So much,” I said, breathless. “So goddamn much.”
I took his mouth again with mine, batting away the thoughts circling in my brain. He needed to know everything, needed to prepare himself for the coming days, but when would I get another chance to be with him like this?
He gave a needy groan.
“God, Gracie, I love this—I do. I love you. But I have so many questions.” He gripped my arms, staring me in the eyes. “Please?”
I wiped my mouth with my finger and thumb. “They’re going to trap you here.”
Nothing like cutting right to the chase.
He tipped his head, sizing me up, but the wheels ground in his brain. “They can’t trap me here.”
I laughed, but it was without any humor. “Oh, yes, they can. That earthquake? It’s not an earthquake, not in the sense you’re thinking. The forest shifts. It keeps us trapped here. We’re not allowed to leave, Mac. And now, they’re going to make you one of us.”
“Why would they want me to be one of them?” He slid his hands down my arms and took my hands, one in each of his. “I just came to find my brother. I have no ties here.”
“It’s me,” I said, careful to tap dance around the whole brother thing. “They want me to bow down, Mac. I disrupted them. I screwed up the illusion and now the only way they can get it back is by breaking me. I won’t. I won’t let them make me take the blame—it wasn’t my fault. I won’t—”
“What wasn’t your fault, Gracie?”
I grimaced, pulling away from him. He let my hands go, but he looked helpless as he watched me.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I murmured, coming to him. I slid my arm around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder. “Please, Mac. Please don’t make me tell you the rest.”
He hesitated, but then he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight to him. “Okay, I won’t ask. You can have your secret, but please share everything else.”
I nodded against his shoulder. “They’re going to force you to join them as bait to make me submit.”
“Then I won’t join them. That’s pretty simple.”
“It’s not.” I planted a kiss on his neck. “You will cave. They won’t give you a choice.”
He cupped the side of my head, holding me against him. “You resist.”
“It’s so much easier for me to resist than to give them what they want. It won’t be the same for you. Please, believe me on this.”
He dragged his fingers through the loose tangles of my hair. “I believe you, Gracie. What do we do? We can’t leave, right? The forest.”
“Yes, the forest. We’re trapped here, for now, but I have a plan.” I stepped back to stare up at him. “I’m going to end this.”
He brushed his thumb against the side of my face. “How do you intend to do that? What’s the plan?”
I glanced at the messenger bag still on the floor under the window. “I’m making a spell.”
He lifted his chin ever so slightly. “You’re a witch. I knew that already but…you’re a real one, aren’t you? I saw the Reverend…”
He trailed off, and I knew he could not put what he had seen into words yet.
“The Reverend, yes. He controls this town. I don’t know how, or why, but everything, even the forest, is under his domain. He decides everything for us, but not anymore. After…after they pushed me out, I developed my own set of skills. I can fight back.”
“So you can, what, make fire in your hand?”
The Reverend had used his little pyro trick to woo Mac towards his side. So much easier to convert faith when the evidence was right in front of you.
“My magic…it’s different. I’m not like him. It’s more subtle, but my spell…”
The storm outside kicked up, rattling the windowpane.
“Come on.” I shoved up the glass of the window.
Freezing rain and equally cold wind whipped through the opening. I climbed back out into the night, and Mac followed behind me. We huddled close together as we scurried towards the road dividing Honey and Hive from the field where the Feast would begin.
I parted from Mac, gesturing for him to hold back, and stood out in the center of the empty road. Closing my eyes, I took a long deep breath, tuning my senses towards the storm. The wind wrapped around my fingers and slithered like a snake up my arms. I let it build, the power deep inside me growing as I connected to the earth, to the weather. With a wave of my arm, the wind kicked up, jutting out in the direction I had indicated.
The storm clouds rolled tighter together and darkened. I could feel them, could guide them. Lightning flashed overhead, filling the sky. The wind cocooned around me, and I jutted my arms out. Wind swirled around us, increasing in speed and ferocity. It howled as it spun. With a jerk of my hand, lightning unleashed through the clouds. Electricity filled me up, my hair lifting from the roots and swirling in the storm as I lost myself into its embrace: both its lover and its conductor.
The symphony played at my command, at my guidance. The wind beat against me, around me, until I couldn’t open my eyes if I wanted to. Rain fell harder until it was an indistinguishable sheet.
Here, I felt no cold, no pain.
Here, I knew my purpose.
It wasn’t a coincidence these powers had manifested after the church, after the entire town, had tried to destroy me.
This was their reckoning, and I was but a conduit.
The storm lashed around me, cutting at my skin. I felt electric, ready to explode in a burst like a supernova that would level all of existence.
Fingers latched with mine.
I wobbled a little as reality descended around me. Mac tugged at my hand.
Laughter bubbled up through me as I grinned at the incredulous expression on his face. Around us, the storm raged with such fury, our words would be lost in the shrieking.
We ducked our heads and ran, hand in hand, through the storm towards the center of town. Cold wet buildings remained dark and it seemed, for this moment, the entirety of Thorn Tree belonged to us.
We didn’t stop running, kicking up water in deep puddles, until we reached my house. Soaking wet, we stumbled inside and melted together in an endless kiss, sliding our hands under wet clothes and laughing against each other’s mouths.
Tonight, we would spend together, wrapped in each other while my storm unleashed its fury over Thorn Tree.
Tomorrow, Mac would join my quest to destroy the town.
I feared what was to come.
Today, we were alone. My falling out had been a public display; my return would be intimate.
I took my place kneeling in front of the curtain. I knew this ritual. It had been ingrained in my head twice a week every week for the duration of my life.
“Do you surrender, Grace Miller?” the Reverend asked as he stood between me and the curtain, of what waited behind it.
“I do.” The words slipped out so softly, I doubted anyone else would have heard them.
He had.
He pressed his finger into the small metal container in his hand and lifted it, covered in ash. He pressed the ash to my forehead.
“Will you do as He requests?”
“I will.”
I closed my eyes, reveling in my answer, in my return. The rest of the world slipped away, and it was just the future with Malachi.
The Reverend pressed a spot of ash to my chin.
“Will you be His ever faithful?”
“I will.”
The Reverend marked ash on my cheeks under each eye.
The curtain would be drawn next. Then it would be over: I would have returned, and I would no longer hurt, no longer fear, no longer be the sole destructive force in our quiet little town.
“And now, Gracie, all you must do is apologize.”
There it was. Rage welled up inside me.
I snapped my head up to glare up at him. “No.”
Kindness and understanding filled his face. “It is all that stands between you and everything you want. Just those small meaningless words. Tell them you’re sorry.”
I leaned back from him.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I spat.
“You broke their trust, Gracie. Broke their faith in Thorn Tree. Isn’t that worth apologizing for?”
I pushed to my feet and used the back of my hand to wipe the ash from my face. “I’m not the one who did wrong. I’m not the one who fucked up everything. I’m not—”
“You’re the only one who can fix this.”
The calmness of his voice only stirred more anger in my chest.
“Tell them the truth!” I screamed. “You know the truth!”
“Gracie, please—”
“Go to fuckin hell.” I charged down the stairs of the stage, grabbed up my bag, and fled through the pews.
The Reverend made no move to follow me. The beast never left his castle.
I knew their game now, the one I hadn’t realized was being played around me.
He’d decided Malachi would stay, so that he could use him to lure me back into the fold. Mac was a genuine soul, innocent in his own way. The Reverend could work with that.
If Mac caved—and he would, eventually—then I would be forced to follow if I wanted to be with him. They’d brought in a new agent to work an angle. Mac just didn’t realize that was his reason for being here yet.
I had to warn him.
Not that it would matter. It took everything in me every single day to resist, to survive in this town, and I only managed because I had seen the darkness underneath. Had fallen prey to it.
Mac wouldn’t go easily, but he would go, eventually. Both the Reverend and I knew that.
The messenger bag slammed against my thigh as I ran through the streets. As much as I wanted to go straight to Honey and Hive and talk to Mac, I had to stay focused.
One task at a time.
Outside Miss Gladys’ bedroom window, I crouched and peered inside. She lay in the bed, eyes closed, her breathing uneven.
Antonia slunk into the room and pressed her palm to Miss Gladys’ forehead.
“It’ll be over soon,” she said softly, before adjusting the blankets over Miss Gladys. “I have to run a few errands.”
I reached into my bag and gripped the single container holding my potion. My heart thudded faster as I considered what it was going to do.
Never in my life would I have considered I would be here, right now, with all the terrible choices I’d made behind me and so many worse ones right ahead.
Antonia left out the front door. When she was long gone and wouldn’t remember something she needed to return for right away, I let myself in through the back.
In the kitchen, I turned on the electric kettle and pawed around, leaving the light off, for a teacup and tea bags. I wiped off a serving tray with a towel before the kettle lever popped.
After I steeped the tea bag in the cup, I retrieved the container from my bag. My hands shook as I unscrewed the lid. The paste had dried into a puce colored powder.
I pulled a spoon from the drawer but halted it above the container. There would be no going back after this, but wasn’t that the point?
“Antonia?”
Miss Gladys’ voice carried down the hall, warbling a little.
I took a deep breath and sealed my lips together, forcing up the bravery to do what needed to be done.
This was the next step. The Goddess had instructed, and She hadn’t let me down like the Reverend and the god he served.
“It’s me, Miss Gladys. Gracie.”
“Gracie?”
She sounded surprised, though I couldn’t blame her. I’d already said goodbye. I had no reason to be here again.
I didn’t reply but scooped up a large spoonful of the powder and stirred it into her tea. Then I placed the teacup on a saucer before loading it up on the tray. I put the closed container back in my bag and patted it once, as if assuring myself that this was the right thing to do.
It was. It had to be. There wasn’t any other option.
Picking up the tray, I headed down the hallway to Gladys’ room.
She slowly rolled her head towards me, her breathing staggered and punctuated with grimaces.
“Hello, Miss Gladys.”
Her attention fell to the teacup. She eased herself up against the headboard, arms wobbling.
I placed the tray on her lap then sat next to her on the edge of the bed. My gaze roamed over her, taking in every grimace, every shaking, every suppressed cough.
“The painkillers aren’t working anymore?” I asked.
She gave a tight shake of her head. “It’s just the end, my dear. Death is so rarely kind.”
“Nothing in Thorn Tree is kind. Why would death be any different?”
She stared down at the teacup. “What Thorn Tree is depends on how deeply you look.”
“How do I get Mac out of here?”
The question escaped my mouth without my consent.
She raised her gaze to me. “You know the Reverend decides who comes and goes.”
“He is going to make Mac stay,” I said, panic rising in my voice. I swallowed hard, trying to regain some control. “I have to help him leave.”
I didn’t add that I would meet him on the other side, if I survived. The odds of that weren’t great.
“I don’t think it’s possible, dear,” she said softly. “The forest will never allow it unless the Reverend agrees—and it seems he has a use for Malachi.”
“To trap me!” I threw up my hands, then folded them back into my lap. The most pertinent question swam to the front of my brain. “Should I give in? Should I surrender to the church again?”
Miss Gladys watched me but did not answer.
“To save Mac,” I said. My stomach ached with the notion that I was being backed into a corner. “Is that the right thing to do, Miss Gladys?”
She reached for my hand, and I offered it to her. She took it in her palm and patted the back of my hand. “You have the last beating heart in Thorn Tree, Gracie.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and my bottom lip trembled. “I’ve done horrible things, Miss Gladys.”
It felt like a confessional.
It was.
“This is not a fight, Gracie. This is an uprising. If anyone can topple the king, it will be you.”
I looked out the window to the church on the hill that stood overlooking the entire town, keeping us in its sight, in its sphere of influence.
Keeping us prisoner.
Miss Gladys picked up the teacup with both hands.
“Thank you, Gracie,” she said over the rim, before shooting it back like a shot of whiskey.
She nestled back in her bed, and I returned the tray to the kitchen. After I washed up and returned everything back the way it was, I left out the back door and waited outside Miss Gladys’ bedroom window.
When Antonia returned to the house, she crept into Miss Gladys’ room and pressed her hand to her forehead.
She gasped, retracting her hand. Miss Gladys had stilled, finding freedom from Thorn Tree at last.
I took off through the trees, back towards town. I had to find Mac, had to warn him of what was happening. Had to tell as much as I could without giving away my involvement with Bobby’s disappearance.
He needed to know so he could resist the town for as long as he could.
As it stood now, I had to destroy Thorn Tree before they managed to steal Mac away from me forever, and somehow, in some way, figure out how to save us both from the destruction to come before it consumed us all.
19
GRACE
Early evening came darker and colder than the prior days as the brewing storm kicked up gusts of wind down the street.
With each step towards Honey and Hive brought a strange sense of relief. I would be reunited with Mac soon, and everything would be better this time. He would understand what was happening—at least, most of it.
I wouldn’t be alone anymore. And the church would not have its way. I would not play by their rules.
If I’d had any doubt about my role in the coming weeks, Miss Gladys had assuaged them.
This was it. On the next full moon, Thorn Tree would take its last collective breath as it went up in billowing flames.
My spell would end what should have never been.
Dark silhouettes filled the field across from Honey and Hive. I halted, chest tightening. An enormous wooden pergola had been erected. Underneath it stretched rows of long tables accompanied by benches.
The town had prepared for the Feast. Three more days, and Thorn Tree’s ancient tradition would take place. I had successfully managed to escape it the last few years, but the memories of all the times before were still vivid in my mind.
The Feast was not an event easily forgotten.
Outside Honey and Hive, I slunk around to locate Mac’s window. Mrs. Woolworth only kept two rooms available to boarders, though rarely even one was in use. One window to the back rooms was darkened. The other had the curtain pulled, but light snuck around the edges.
Holding my breath, I rapped on the window with one knuckle.
Cold wind kicked up around me, and I wrapped my arms around myself as my teeth chattered. The window scraped and groaned as it lifted, then Mac shoved aside the curtain all the way.
“Jesus Christ, Gracie. You scared the living hell out of me.”
Rain pelted down, and I wrinkled my face as the freezing drops went straight to my bones.
“Can I come in?” I flicked my hand towards the window.
“Yeah, of course.” He stepped back, and I tossed my messenger bag to the floor before I crawled up and over the sill. He grabbed my side and arm to help me to the floor. As he closed the windowpane, I rubbed my arms, trying to dispel the cold.
He turned to me, starting to say something. I closed the gap between us and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me. We kissed, deep and hard, and I pressed tighter against him, ready to disappear into his warmth.
He stroked the back of my head before pulling away just enough to break the kiss. “Gracie, what’s going on?”
“So much,” I said, breathless. “So goddamn much.”
I took his mouth again with mine, batting away the thoughts circling in my brain. He needed to know everything, needed to prepare himself for the coming days, but when would I get another chance to be with him like this?
He gave a needy groan.
“God, Gracie, I love this—I do. I love you. But I have so many questions.” He gripped my arms, staring me in the eyes. “Please?”
I wiped my mouth with my finger and thumb. “They’re going to trap you here.”
Nothing like cutting right to the chase.
He tipped his head, sizing me up, but the wheels ground in his brain. “They can’t trap me here.”
I laughed, but it was without any humor. “Oh, yes, they can. That earthquake? It’s not an earthquake, not in the sense you’re thinking. The forest shifts. It keeps us trapped here. We’re not allowed to leave, Mac. And now, they’re going to make you one of us.”
“Why would they want me to be one of them?” He slid his hands down my arms and took my hands, one in each of his. “I just came to find my brother. I have no ties here.”
“It’s me,” I said, careful to tap dance around the whole brother thing. “They want me to bow down, Mac. I disrupted them. I screwed up the illusion and now the only way they can get it back is by breaking me. I won’t. I won’t let them make me take the blame—it wasn’t my fault. I won’t—”
“What wasn’t your fault, Gracie?”
I grimaced, pulling away from him. He let my hands go, but he looked helpless as he watched me.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I murmured, coming to him. I slid my arm around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder. “Please, Mac. Please don’t make me tell you the rest.”
He hesitated, but then he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight to him. “Okay, I won’t ask. You can have your secret, but please share everything else.”
I nodded against his shoulder. “They’re going to force you to join them as bait to make me submit.”
“Then I won’t join them. That’s pretty simple.”
“It’s not.” I planted a kiss on his neck. “You will cave. They won’t give you a choice.”
He cupped the side of my head, holding me against him. “You resist.”
“It’s so much easier for me to resist than to give them what they want. It won’t be the same for you. Please, believe me on this.”
He dragged his fingers through the loose tangles of my hair. “I believe you, Gracie. What do we do? We can’t leave, right? The forest.”
“Yes, the forest. We’re trapped here, for now, but I have a plan.” I stepped back to stare up at him. “I’m going to end this.”
He brushed his thumb against the side of my face. “How do you intend to do that? What’s the plan?”
I glanced at the messenger bag still on the floor under the window. “I’m making a spell.”
He lifted his chin ever so slightly. “You’re a witch. I knew that already but…you’re a real one, aren’t you? I saw the Reverend…”
He trailed off, and I knew he could not put what he had seen into words yet.
“The Reverend, yes. He controls this town. I don’t know how, or why, but everything, even the forest, is under his domain. He decides everything for us, but not anymore. After…after they pushed me out, I developed my own set of skills. I can fight back.”
“So you can, what, make fire in your hand?”
The Reverend had used his little pyro trick to woo Mac towards his side. So much easier to convert faith when the evidence was right in front of you.
“My magic…it’s different. I’m not like him. It’s more subtle, but my spell…”
The storm outside kicked up, rattling the windowpane.
“Come on.” I shoved up the glass of the window.
Freezing rain and equally cold wind whipped through the opening. I climbed back out into the night, and Mac followed behind me. We huddled close together as we scurried towards the road dividing Honey and Hive from the field where the Feast would begin.
I parted from Mac, gesturing for him to hold back, and stood out in the center of the empty road. Closing my eyes, I took a long deep breath, tuning my senses towards the storm. The wind wrapped around my fingers and slithered like a snake up my arms. I let it build, the power deep inside me growing as I connected to the earth, to the weather. With a wave of my arm, the wind kicked up, jutting out in the direction I had indicated.
The storm clouds rolled tighter together and darkened. I could feel them, could guide them. Lightning flashed overhead, filling the sky. The wind cocooned around me, and I jutted my arms out. Wind swirled around us, increasing in speed and ferocity. It howled as it spun. With a jerk of my hand, lightning unleashed through the clouds. Electricity filled me up, my hair lifting from the roots and swirling in the storm as I lost myself into its embrace: both its lover and its conductor.
The symphony played at my command, at my guidance. The wind beat against me, around me, until I couldn’t open my eyes if I wanted to. Rain fell harder until it was an indistinguishable sheet.
Here, I felt no cold, no pain.
Here, I knew my purpose.
It wasn’t a coincidence these powers had manifested after the church, after the entire town, had tried to destroy me.
This was their reckoning, and I was but a conduit.
The storm lashed around me, cutting at my skin. I felt electric, ready to explode in a burst like a supernova that would level all of existence.
Fingers latched with mine.
I wobbled a little as reality descended around me. Mac tugged at my hand.
Laughter bubbled up through me as I grinned at the incredulous expression on his face. Around us, the storm raged with such fury, our words would be lost in the shrieking.
We ducked our heads and ran, hand in hand, through the storm towards the center of town. Cold wet buildings remained dark and it seemed, for this moment, the entirety of Thorn Tree belonged to us.
We didn’t stop running, kicking up water in deep puddles, until we reached my house. Soaking wet, we stumbled inside and melted together in an endless kiss, sliding our hands under wet clothes and laughing against each other’s mouths.
Tonight, we would spend together, wrapped in each other while my storm unleashed its fury over Thorn Tree.
Tomorrow, Mac would join my quest to destroy the town.
I feared what was to come.
