The Rose Master (31 page)

The wraith laughed and laughed, breaking my grasping concentration.

“Give it up, little girl,” its sing-song voice said.

TWENTY-eight

The creature began to circle me as my protective chant ebbed away, the golden glow shrinking around me while my mind was still on the paper in my hands.

The words were fleeing from me, scattering in all directions. I spoke August’s first line, hazarding the wrong accents, hazarding everything. I had no other option. Before I could get to the second line, a stab of pain whipped around my stomach in a tight knot that twisted with every breath.

The wraith laughed and continued its circling. “That’s what happens when you meddle with magic. Mispronounced words strike back. Didn’t your master teach you that?”

The cramp eased, but I knew I couldn’t afford to try the unknown words again. The wraith would take advantage of the spasms and kill me without trouble. Clutching the paper in my hands, I steadied myself. A deep breath to smooth out my nerves, a dip of my head to gather my shredded thoughts. For all I knew, I would die that very night at the foot of a black fountain, next to the man I’d be leaving in a frozen purgatory until his death.

Everything in me sharpened at that thought, at giving my life up with such ease, at giving August’s life up when it was not mine to sacrifice.

This was what I had been born for. Not to become my father, content to mindlessly serve, or my mother, to yank at binding chains, but to be this woman. This person willing to fight for what she wanted. My heart, not my supposed destiny, had led me to this instant, to this death-soaked moment, and I would not betray it that easily.

My head filled with the screams of birds, a shrill chorus that returned my chant’s words back to me.

I began to speak once again as I edged closer to August’s limp body. Repeating the only words I knew, the protective ones that comprised my part of the banishment, I encircled us both with my voice. I would keep going until I couldn’t anymore, and then, well, there was nothing more I could do.

The wraith stopped its movement, and settled into banging its energy against the walls of the golden circle, slamming over and over into it, until I could feel the pressure even in my chest. I ignored it and raised my eyes to the sky above me, to the silent, peaceful stars that freckled the night with their light, and just chanted, my gaze fixed on their glow.

I don’t know for how long I maintained it. Long enough to grow tired. I could feel it already, a slight trembling in my limbs as the energy required to maintain the circle started draining me. My eyes blurred with exhaustion, but still I chanted, even as pain filled my body.

A sudden sound almost cracked my shell of concentration. A thin, weak voice trickled in, twining around my own.

My eyes widened at the muted but familiar voice, and I glanced down at August, who was struggling to sit up, wincing and shaking with pain. His voice was speaking the words I’d so struggled with.

The wraith growled in hot fury and rammed its energy into my shield, making me stagger backward. I felt a hand brush my skirt, calling my attention with its damp burn. August extended his hand toward my own.

Everything seemed to be slower than it truly was. I could almost see the air particles around me, as crystalline as drops of the coldest water.

I sank with a sigh of fabric to the snow next to August. His eyes locked on mine and he grasped my hands in his. The power coursed through us, through our blood, through our joined skin until I felt we would rise off the ground.

The wraith screamed and crashed against the ever-stronger shield, while August’s magic chipped away piece after piece of the creature’s malevolent being.

It was all too much. My body swayed with the effort and the pain; my breath came faster, crowded with words, out of my mouth.

August shook my hands and forced my drooping eyes back on him. I answered his unasked question with three words: “Lily! Lily Bellingham!”

His eyes widened, but he didn’t hesitate, trusting me completely as he lifted his voice into a shout. I joined him. The wraith’s shrieks increased and I began to hear the crackling of stone. I smiled as the sound intensified; the black stone that had sung for my life was disintegrating behind us.

The din was unbearable, waves of sound making both of us cringe. I felt a trembling in my hands soon matched by August’s, a finality to it that was impossible to deny. My voice cracked in two when our blended powers whipped out, wrapping around the wraith, enveloping it in a blanket of energy.

Its screams mingled with the explosion of stone behind us. The blaze of light was blinding white, making us shut our eyes in its glare.

And then silence. So much of it, I thought I’d gone deaf.

“Anne, look.”

I opened my eyes. Ash rained down on us, sprinkled with glittering, stone specks.

The moon was bright against the snow, making our two pale faces glow in the cold air. A seep of liquid splashed against my shoe and I looked up.

My gasp drew August’s attention. Where the fountain had been was a huge puddle of dark liquid. It could be nothing else than blood.

August’s hands fell away from my own and he attempted to stand. He hissed as his leg shifted position, his face blanching with the effort.

“Wait. Don’t try to stand yet.” I rose and saw the blood edging closer to where he was sitting, as if it was a living thing. I shuddered.

“On second thought, let’s get away from this spot.”

Casting my eyes about, I found a long stick, a branch that, though thin, was full of fibrous strength.

“Here, use this.”

August forced it down into the snow and gripped it tightly with both hands. With a grunt, he lifted his good leg under him, allowing his body to turn as it wished, while his ravaged leg throbbed in limp agony. He pressed his forehead against the branch, and I could see beads of clear sweat shining on his pale skin.

“August.” I edged up to his hunched frame. “Do you think it’s broken?”

He didn’t look up, but nodded. “It threw me across the room, into a wall. I thought the wraith had broken my spine.”

“It thought so, too.”

He raised a hand to his head and a twist of pain knotted around his features as his fingers prodded the back of his skull. “I don’t remember how I got here. Last thing I can recall is slamming against that wall. I’m afraid I must have hit my head at some point during this charming night.”

I smiled at him.

“I don’t remember much either after we—well, after you . . .”

My face was hot against the night air, and I thanked the Lord that it was still too dark for August to notice. I didn’t wait for a response, but turned around to survey the splotched landscape we’d created.

“How did you know it was Lily?” August asked.

I swallowed the sudden lump of nerves in my throat. “She was in the manor.”

I watched as he processed my words, his skin growing paler in the moonlight. “But the letter I received all those years ago—”

“She falsified her death so you wouldn’t suspect she was the one tormenting you.”

He took a deep breath. “She pretended to be dead for all these years, just to harm me?”

“Yes.” I bit my lower lip. “She showed me what happened between the two of you.”

He flinched. “Oh. Anne, I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

I nodded. “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want you to know I’d behaved so horribly. I was ashamed, the guilt of thinking everything I’d done had led her to her death was too much. But I should have told you when you asked. There is no excuse but my cowardice.”

I shook my head. It didn’t matter anymore, not really, not after everything. “Is it over now?”

“No. We banished the wraith, true, but as long as Lily is still alive, I don’t know if it’ll ever be over.”

I knew those words should have frightened me, the realization that we’d only really bought ourselves some time, and that we’d have to face even more darkness in the future, but the exhaustion I felt was too great to focus on any of that. For now, at least, we were safe.

August suddenly shifted his body toward me, as if he’d just remembered something. “You were willing to try the entire chant.”

He sounded as surprised as if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes minutes before.

“Pretty stupid, right?”

“Not the word I would have chosen, but yes. And dangerous.”

August’s breathing grew ragged and tight, the air whistling through his clenched lips as he inched toward me.

My blood scurried up and down my limbs in an exhausting race, awaiting the familiar warmth of his presence against my skin. I didn’t turn around.

With a sigh, he pressed his lips against the back of my head, allowing my hair to dampen the burn.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I closed my eyes and nodded.

A thought flashed into my head. “Oh, August, the manor! The roses! They’re destroyed!”

He shrugged and sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

We moved slowly toward the manor, the smell sharp and biting, wood still shrieking as it collapsed to the ground, only to be devoured by the flames. August wavered at the sight of the burnt roses. He shook his head, as if to dislodge a lump of sadness.

“Let it burn to the ground.”

We watched the fire for a long time, seeing it grow weaker as it ran out of things to destroy. My mind was too sore to think, so I allowed myself to just be, to just stand beside the puzzling man hunched next to me, to just feel the night in my hair. I suddenly felt something cold on my shoulder, seeping wet through my gown.

Snow. It was falling all over us. I smiled and looked at August, who turned his face toward it. The sound of sizzling reached us as the snow smothered the fire.

There was a sudden vibration from the ground. I turned to August in surprise.

His eyes sparkled like crystals in the moonlight, and as his smile widened, I began to see and hear green shooting up out of the trampled snow, thick stalks that grew and expanded, each carrying a red drop at its center. Gasping, I saw the red mold itself, turn, multiply. Bloom.

The perfume burst into the air in all its madness as I turned around. We were standing in a circle of roses.

I laughed and cast him a sideways glance.

“What now?”

He shrugged. “Anything we want.”

“We?”

He looked at me with such warmth, I felt my cheeks reddening. “Of course, Anne.” He held my gaze for a moment more, then cleared his throat and looked away. “You didn’t think I’d part with the only Grounder I know, did you? Do you really expect me to snuff out my own candles? The horror.”

For a second, I froze, contemplating his words. I didn’t know what they meant, not really, but I decided I didn’t care. Laughing, I shook my head.

August bent down with many grunts and winces and picked off one of the fragrant roses. Rising to his full height, he offered it to me with a soft smile.

“For a new beginning. For a new life.”

The End.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time she has either reading or writing. She also watches over a veritable army of pets, including her five, very spoiled, snakes. Her works have appeared in numerous publications and her poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Web. She lives in Miami, Florida.