AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 29
Isigh and crumple up another piece of parchment, tossing it across my bedroom. A hungry vine slowly uncurls from the corner, wrapping it’s leaves around it. I watch its movement, trying to find some shred of inspiration in it to help my tired, overtaxed mind.
I’ve spent the rest of the day with my gold, spurred on by thoughts of Destan’s sacrifice, Halima’s dedication, and, of course, Ruskin suffering. I know each night we spend together brings him closer to that shadowy border of death—the cold metal of Cebba’s curse creeping up and around his heart, overwhelming him.
He’d be dead already if it weren’t for the strength of his own magic. I’ve come to understand that one of the uglier parts of him—his deals—are key to his survival.
But even with that terrible thought as motivation to find a solution, I’m still not able to reach the revelation I’m searching for. Eventually, I down my tools and make for my room, but not without bringing a stack of notes and one of Cebba’s rings with me. I turn it over in my hands, occasionally stopping to notice the way it changes to my touch, then scribble down a note. Then I cross it through a minute later when I realize whatever tangent I’m trying to explore is a dead end.
The bed is so comfortable that even with the worries crawling about my mind, my eyelids grow heavy. I sink down into the pillows, still surrounded by my work, hoping that some answers might find me in my dreams.
I wake still in darkness, a terrible weight on my chest, holding me down, pushing the air out of my lungs. Automatically, my hands reach out to shove whatever it is away. They meet cool, soft flesh that’s definitely not human. As the panic swells, it serves to clear away the fog of sleep, and I realize the pressure isn’t just on top of me—it’s around me, encircling my neck.
I desperately scrabble at the cord around my throat, thicker than a ship’s rope. The room is silent except for the rustle of my thrashing in the sheets…and a telltale hiss by my ear.
Snake.
Now the strange texture beneath my fingers make sense, even as it squeezes the life out of me. My throat burns, my windpipe bruising as the lack of air makes my head swim. I can’t shout out—soon, I won’t be able to do anything at all.
I drop my hands, splaying them out around me to search for something to help me. I remember the way Axtil flinched away when I sliced him with his own knife. Cutting or stabbing it would be enough to cause most animals to loosen their grip. At first my fingers only claw at useless paper, and my heart careens against my rib cage, rushing through what might be its last beats.
Then my fingers hook onto it: the small hoop of Cebba’s ring.
It’s not sharp enough to hurt the snake—not yet—but as my body screams for breath, I’m filled with a desperate hope that I can change that.
As before when I was fighting a threat, the magic comes quickly, the gold growing soft in my fingers. I pull and stretch it, splitting it apart so it unfolds. Going only by touch in the darkness, I tentatively thumb one end. It’s still soft now, but when the gold cools and it hardens to its original state, will the broken edge be enough?
I press it into to the creature’s skin. It simply hisses again, too distracted by its mission to end me. But as I urge the gold to cool and harden once more—for the magic to leave it—the solution comes to me. I pull on the gold, stretching it under my hands until it’s long enough to encircle the snake’s body. I reach up, trying to find the narrow spot near the snake’s head, wrapping the gold around it.
The snake might think it’s the expert in squeezing someone to death, but two can play at that game.
Even the twenty seconds it’s taken to come up with my plan has my head swimming, and the sound of blood rushing in my ears tells me I’m close to blacking out. I fight against it, my hands trembling as I hold the gold in place, connecting the two broken ends and willing the magic to do its work.
Come on.
The gold starts to cool beneath my fingers, the stretched-out ring I’d created tightening.
Constricting.
As I urge the metal to shrink back down to its original size, I feel it dig into the snake’s flesh beneath my fingers. The creature’s casual hisses turn aggressive, its tail thumping against my skin as its grip loosens a fraction. I urge my hands up, though they feel as heavy as lead, and I pull on the creature where it’s wrapped around my neck.
There’s a terrible, wet slicing sound, then the body upon me goes limp.
With my remaining strength I haul it away from me, throwing it off with a desperate, croaky sob. My lungs sting as I take painful breaths, spluttering and coughing in between grabbing magnificent mouthfuls of air.
I stagger up to where I know the nearest faerie light hangs, touching it to bring a soft glow to the room. I turn and see that the bed and, when I look down, myself, are splattered with black blood. The snake’s icy-blue body lies coiled on the floor and there, beside my pillow: the head. Eyes frozen, fanged mouth gaping, and the ring that cut it clean off.
I search around for the petal pendant I took off before I went to sleep, finding it at my bedside. I don’t know if he’ll be able to feel me through the pendant’s magic if he’s not already looking for me, but I know his rhyme doesn’t work to summon him in Faerie. I settle for whispering his true name into it, hoping its power will tug at him somehow—alerting him to the pendant. The faint rasp is all I can muster, but it’s enough. Before I can set the pendant down, he bursts through my doors, shirt open where it’s been pulled on in haste, eyes alight with concern.
He sees me folded up beside the bed in exhaustion, his piercing eyes taking in the blood and snake carcass, before settling back on me.
“Ella,” is all he says, the word like a prayer on his lips. He bends down and scoops me up, onto the bed. Cradling me, he touches a hand to my neck and I gasp at the pain, my eyes watering.
“Ella,” he murmurs again, and presses a kiss to my temple. I close my eyes, trying not to shake as the shock of the moment washes over me, though I know he can feel my trembling when his grip tightens around me. I look up and see a new look in his eyes. Rage.
“What?” I rasp, extra words seeming too much like a chore right now.
“This was no accident. This snake couldn’t have gotten into your room on its own. I have too many protections on it.” He enunciates his words with a clipped force that begins to worry me. I’ve never seen him look so angry.
