Between (32 page)

Another cough—a hacking fit that sends her body into convulsions.

Keiran meets my eyes across her body. Whalen doesn’t want to gain power; he wants to obliterate it.

“Run, Charlie,” Mom breathes. “Run.”

“No, Mom.” It’s more of a sob than a sentence. I shake my head. I can’t bring myself to release her hand. Now that I have her back, I’m not letting go again. “I told you I’m not leaving you. You’re coming with us.”

A long hiss invades the air, and I look up to see the Mothman’s glowing red eyes through what’s left of the trees. His black mouth gapes open, and a thick, wet hiss sounds again. He stands on the very tips of his talons, like he’s going to lunge toward us at any moment.

I stop breathing.

“Charlie.” Keiran’s voice is low, his eyes locked on the creature. “Don’t. Move.”

The hissing ceases, and the Between is an entirely new type of silent—the kind that creeps up in the middle of the night and takes your mind to the most terrifying possibilities imaginable.

A chill fills my core.

Mom’s eyes pop open, and her chest heaves. I jump as she releases a scream more powerful than I ever could’ve imagined, given the state she’s in.

The Mothman leaps into the air and Keiran lunges for me, catching me beneath my arms. We topple backward as the Mothman lands on Mom’s body. We flip over and bounce off the grass onto our feet. I pull my knife from my side and point it at the Mothman.

One clawed foot presses down on Mom’s neck, its claws touching the ground on either side, and the other stands on her torso. Mom stares up at the giant creature, her eyes wide and her mouth frozen in a silent scream.

“When I say run,” Keiran breathes, “you run. Don’t stop running. No matter what. Don’t stop until you’re in Ellauria.”

Everyone keeps telling me to run like it’s the easiest thing to do. Mom’s here. Sam’s here. I can’t leave them.

My eyes focus on the sharp, dark talons around Mom’s neck. One of them stretches, straightening until it points directly at me. A whimper escapes my lips, and the Mothman’s head swivels toward me, rotating in a complete circle. His eyes lock with mine. His mouth gapes open, and a thick, wet hiss sounds again.

“Run!” Keiran shouts.

But I can’t. I’m stuck here, frozen by the sight of the only mother I’ve ever known pinned to the ground by the enormous, deadly creature that started this whole nightmare.

She escaped him before.

A gurgling noise erupts from her throat as his talons squeeze her neck.

She is the bravest person I know.

I tear my eyes away and focus on the tall, blackened tree behind them. In seconds, the brittle branch cracks free and crashes downward, landing directly on the Mothman’s head.

The Mothman hisses again, but his stance doesn’t waver.

Mom’s lips grow purple, and the whites of her eyes explode with red.

No. She will not die here.

“Charlie!” Keiran shouts again, circling around to the Mothman’s side. “Run!”

I can’t.

Keiran raises his hand, sending a ball of flames screaming through the air. It flies over the creature as he lowers his head until it’s mere inches from hers.

Get up, Mom. Get up
.

Keiran keeps throwing fire, but even the ones that make contact don’t seem to have much effect. They merely sizzle against the Mothman’s dark feathers.

Mom’s fingers twitch in the grass at her sides, and her face grows redder.

My heart goes frantic. I stare at everything and nothing, desperately searching for a weapon. Water would extinguish Keiran’s fireballs. The heavy tree branch had little effect. Air?

A gust of wind blows through, and I steel myself against it as it whips around me. Keiran stumbles a bit and plants his feet in the ground, doing the same.

The Mothman stays solid.

I cry out in frustration, slamming my fists against my legs.

I’m not ready for this. My powers aren’t ready.

“Combine them!” Keiran yells. He runs closer, throwing more and more fire. A few feathers ignite on the Mothman’s shoulder, but they burn out quickly. “Water and air. Fire and earth. They’re not enough on their own—put them together!”

My breaths come quickly, each one shakier than the next. I look from Keiran to the monster.

Combine them.

My mind races, swirling through the most random possibilities. The Mothman launches into the air and I want to move, to help, to scream, but I do nothing. I wait for her to roll out of his way.

Get up, Mom. Get up
.

The Mothman crashes down, and the sickening crunch of bone is everywhere, announcing her death in surround sound.

No!

My knees hit the ground, and my vision blurs.
She can’t be dead. She can’t be
. I say it over and over in my head, all the time knowing it’s a lie.

The body on the ground is a fractured mess of bone and blood. There’s nothing left of her there.

She’s dead.

As much as I want to close my eyes and make the image disappear, I can’t tear my gaze away. My world is nothing but the sight of Mom’s mutilated body and the sound of my breaths. How did I get this close to her again, only to lose her?

The noises I make are senseless sounds of grief wrapped in terror. A tremor takes hold of my body, sending me into convulsions, and I wrap my arms around my stomach.

No no no no no
.

I rock forward and back. My throat thickens, and the Mothman’s weight is upon me before I can scream.

“No!” Keiran yells.

The sharp points of his talons dig into my neck and hip.

Flames crash into the Mothman, one after the other. I hear Keiran grunt with each throw, but my eyes are locked only on the enormous monster on top of me.

My nostrils sting with the smell of singed feathers. Pressure builds behind my eyes as all the air is pushed from my lungs. The Mothman leans over me, and I feel his scorching breath against my skin, the tips of his feathers trailing over my arms. His blood-rimmed eyes lock with mine, his head tilting to the side as his wings lift and fold over me, enclosing me in a cocoon of darkness.

There’s no air.

Mom’s dead.

I’m supposed to be the most powerful creature alive, and I froze when she needed me.

I couldn’t save her.

“Charlie!” Keiran releases a determined scream of rage and runs toward us, his feet crunching across the leaves.

In a blink, the Mothman’s massive wing strikes out, connecting with Keiran’s chest and catapulting him through the air. There’s a loud
thud
when Keiran hits the ground, and then there’s nothing but the Mothman’s face in mine.

Whalen has Sam.

What’s the point?

Pain tears through me as the Mothman bears down on my body.

I squeeze my eyes shut.
This is it
.

The monster leaps upward, and sweet, fresh air flows over me, filling my lungs. My fingers close over the leather handle still gripped in my hand.

My eyes fly open. My knife.

I will not end here
.

I whip my arm out as the Mothman comes crashing down, recalling Seth’s instruction to Mom the night this all started.

Below the rib cage. Right side
.

My knife connects with something solid and I push in with everything I have, twisting the blade. The Mothman screams—a shrill mixture of hiss and screech—and his weight triples as he slumps over on top of me.

I press against his massive body, craning my neck and gasping for air. I push my feet into the ground and maneuver myself until I find a break in the feathers.

Air.

I drink it in, chest heaving.

A hand reaches beneath the Mothman and grabs my wrist. “Charlie,” Keiran says, breathing hard. “Charlie. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

His arms slip over me, lifting the Mothman. I push with all the strength I have left. Finally, the weight is gone. I roll to my side, coughing and sputtering.

In the grass just a few feet away lie the broken and bloody remains that were once the woman I called Mom. I stretch my arm out, reaching for her, and Keiran stands over me, his hands on his head, his face twisted with pain.

The Between swallows my sobs, and we’re once again surrounded by silence.

“Charlie!”

I lift my head. Seth?

I blink and he’s there, surrounded by Aegises and fairies. Clara stands at the front of the crowd, rising into the air and taking in the death around us.

I push myself upward. Is he really here? How did he know?

“You were in the mirror,” Seth mutters. His gaze sweeps from me to Keiran to the Mothman. He flinches when he sees what’s left of Mom and turns away.

I push myself upward until I’m standing. Pain rips through my chest, and I press my fingers to my ribs. I’m pretty sure a few of them are broken.

Seth keeps his eyes on the ground. I take a step toward him, and he turns his head to me. His sharp look is filled with warning.

I need him. I need his arms around me. I need to be as close to him as possible, to feel his breath on my skin and his heartbeat against my chest. I need him in unfair ways he can’t possibly provide.

There’s movement all around me. Fairies hover about, studying the Between’s decay and collecting Mom. Aegises examine the Mothman, taking note of my knife and the singes left behind by Keiran’s flames. I hear questions, but I can’t find words to answer.

Keiran steps closer, gently brushing leaves off of my shirt. When I look at him, his eyes are empty. “I’m so sorry,” he says.

I shudder, unable to respond.

Through it all, Seth stands as silent and motionless as a statue, his tortured eyes locked on my face.

I channel all my thoughts to him.
I need you. Please
.

His gaze only hardens. He waits until two Aegises take hold of me and Keiran, then turns his back on me to lead the way back to Ellauria.

E
IGHTEEN

E
very single part of the room where Principal Command convenes, from the walls to the floor to every single table and chair, is made of dark oak, with black lines marking the grain. There are no windows, and the small desk lamps on each of the tables don’t do a whole lot for the ambience.

It’s designed to be intimidating, and it works.

Forty-eight members of Principal Command, every leader that could make it to Ellauria on a moment’s notice, sit in groups of three at sixteen tables arranged in a half-circle on one side of the room.

Keiran and I sit opposite them in two stiff wooden chairs set far enough apart that, when he catches my eye and tries to whisper, I can’t understand his words.

“Do you have something to say, elf?” A giant centaur stares down his nose at Keiran.

They keep doing that—calling me “siren” and Keiran “elf,” like our names don’t matter.

We’ve spent the last hour recounting everything that happened from the time we decided to go to the Between to finding Sam’s bracelet to the appearance of the Mothman, and ending with the moment Seth and the fairies arrived.

Alexander sits in the very center of PC with his elbows resting on the table and his hands folded in front of his chin. Seth leans against the wall by the door, here only because he’s my Aegis and therefore personally responsible for carrying out whatever punishment PC gives me for defying the Fellowship’s orders and going into the Between.

Never mind that we discovered the cause of the weakening magic everywhere. Never mind that we killed the Mothman.

Never mind that Mom died.

Seth still hasn’t talked to me. He’ll hardly look at me. He did at least take the time to heal my cracked ribs, but as soon as he was finished, he walked away. If I weren’t completely drained of emotion, I’m sure that would hurt. As it is, all I feel is emptiness.

My feelings dulled when I watched Aegises pick up the pieces of my mother. They were further muted when Seth turned his back on me in the Between. But the final straw was being brought to this cold room to relive today’s events, all while being treated like some sort of deviant.

Sam is all I have to cling to now, and of him, all I have is his bracelet.

The only way to survive this is to stop feeling.

“Our rules aren’t arbitrary guidelines,” says the centaur. “These orders are in place, not only for your safety, but for that of the mystical realm as well.”

“After everything we’ve told you,” Keiran says, his tone dripping with disbelief, “your main concern right now is that we broke one of your rules?”

Where I feel blank, Keiran seems angry. I’ve never seen this disrespectful side of him—a side that isn’t concerned with being likable or charming. I don’t know if he’s angry with Whalen, the Fellowship, himself, or all of the above, and we haven’t had a moment alone to process anything together.

His father—the man he’s intent on saving—is responsible for my mother’s death. I don’t know how I would deal with that if I were in his place.

I stare ahead, my gaze falling somewhere between the tabletop and the floor.

“Your irresponsibility could’ve allowed the Mothman to enter Ellauria or any of the mystical realm’s other cities,” the centaur growls.

“This is so stupid,” I mutter.

“Excuse me?” Clara pipes up, leaning over her table. “Did you say this is stupid?”

I look from Sam’s bracelet to her face. “I’ve said everything I have to say about why we went to the Between.” I break the story into monotonous steps one more time. “I’d heard of the trouble with magic. I wanted to look at the Source. Keiran only went because I made him. I’ve told you what Joe said,” my eyes flicker to Alexander, “and what Mom said. Why are we still sitting here instead of doing something?”

Clara leans back in the seat, settling her arms over her chest. “You know, I’ve been a bit curious about your particular situation,” she says, then addresses the rest of PC. “This Apprentice has been kept separate from the rest of the first-years since she got here. She seems to enjoy advanced training and freedoms that the others do not.”

I release a harsh, loud laugh and comb both hands through the front of my hair. This is completely insane. “Did you hear the part about how Adele died, about what she said about Whalen, about how he wants to destroy magic?”