“Rest now, girl,” she murmured.
Flight forgotten, Aida melted into the dirt, flopping boneless among the rotting leaves and shiny, crawling things to stare at the green light growing dimmer by the ragged breath.
She did not sleep as such. Left weary and without will, Aida listened to Marilsa shuffle around her supine body and the scraping wheeze of the staff’s pointed end dragging through the detritus to clear a circle, one Marilsa drew ragged lines and shapes in. Candles of red and black were set at points, a spark of power the color of old blood and agony scattering through the air before the singed wicks took the flame.
Bustling off to the side, Marilsa gathered the driest of the fallen boughs and twigs. Scooping up fistfuls of tattered leaves that crackled in her arms, she began setting a fire, one small enough to lend no warmth to the biting chill crawling up Aida’s skin. Head falling to the side, Aida stared unblinking at the obsidian ring encircling her. Though lifeless and void of illumination, a corona of power exuded from it, a darkling luminescence from the depths of the Abyss and beyond.
Cold penetrating her down to the very core, Aida’s breath stuttered into rigid lungs locked frozen. The inky oblivion etched its way inward, crawling across the rifts of decay with spidery fingers toward Aida. Seeking, yearning, it reached across the seemingly endless space to tickle over her hands, her face, twining snug around her ankle to slither its way up her calf and thigh. Swearing she could feel the dusky threads shudder in anticipation, Aida’s fingers twitched.
It was too much like Otaso’s dungeon, the thing lingering in the black depths to torment her, biting and clawing, hurting her in ways she was never prepared for. The last days giving her a taste of the warmth, the fresh spring taste of freedom, Aida found herself incapable of accepting this fate, unwilling to return to the times of pain and loneliness but uncertain she could ever break free. A cry of despair, one tangled in the swamps of regret and the fire of outrage, burned through the scum of ice.
As a scream rushed over her parted lips, the circle cracked. Snapping and popping, grinding, the now jagged edges sought to reform. Vicious sounds shuddered through her teeth, making her jaw ache as the cry continued to build. The ground beneath her dipped, a ripple flowing from the tight inner ring in ever expanding circles. Rolling through the forest, stuttering groans and wild thrashing preceded a storm of swirling hues. Diseased chartreuse, jaundiced yellow, pungent ochre—it all tumbled down around them with a roar of fluttering sighs.
Tawny skin, deepened to a soft amber from the sun these last few days, grew paler, from sandy pale to white and edging into a pure blue. The frosty glow became brighter still, raising the hairs on the back of her neck as Aida pushed at the murky earth. Straining upright, she gripped the backs of her knees to remain sitting up as the sunless light sought to push her down. Groaning through gritted teeth, Aida watched the flickering blue lightning sizzle through the air. The smell of burnt things and darkness clogged the back of her throat as the inky flames receded, jerking back and fading while Aida pulled herself forward onto her knees.
Full force of her shriek aimed at the rustling drifts of leaves as her fingers sank deep into the earth, Aida wanted it all to go away, to stop, wishing none of this had ever happened. That she’d never been born, never stolen, never taken. She wanted to be quiet and warm in Er’it’s embrace all the more as a surge of heat zipped up her center at the mere thought of him. It left her breathless as the frosty glare pulsed in erratic waves, blinding in their intensity and ragged as her stuttering heartbeat.
As she climbed to her feet, the darkling ring sizzled and smoked, leeching into the ground to leave a charred circle filled with sooty markings. Her need so strong for him Aida swore she could smell his musky cedar scent, she tipped her head back and wailed at the sky, challenging the unfeeling stars that mirrored her eyes, daring them to fall down around her head where she could curse them. Icy tears rained down her cheeks, burning her glowing skin and leaving sorrow-dim shadows in their wake.
With a sigh, the light flickered out. Aida blinked hard into the sudden darkness. Sniffling and rubbing the heels of her palms across her eyes, she tried to ascertain which shadows were real and imagined. She found Marilsa stood against a tree, her hands braced on the roughened bark. A piece broke free when her nails dug under the ragged slab, the sound a whip crack in the calmed quiet invading their little scene.
Emerald gaze wide, Marilsa brushed her thumb over the flat of her fingers to clean away the sticky dust left behind. Letting out a shuddery sigh, she nodded at the ground at Aida’s feet, her lips twisting into a peculiar grimace.
Unwilling to let the evil woman from her sight for long, Aida chanced a glance downwards. She forgot all about Marilsa as the lush colors exploding around Aida’s feet became clear even in the uncertain light. Verdant green grass whispered in a cooling breeze, knee high and still growing as Aida stared. The leaves crunching under her boots lost their gangrenous hues as vivid reds, brilliant golds, and rich ochres replaced all the ill-fated colors. Tracing the line of a sturdy umber trunk up to the canopy, Aida watched with rounded eyes as the leaves in their lofty boughs became fuller, brighter, thicker.
Turning in a tight circle, Aida looked all around them. Not just contained within the circle Marilsa had scratched on the ground, the changing landscape stretched deep into the trees, all of it changing. Moss and grass exploded from the ground, and the shocking colors of flowers unfurled in their cozy beds of green, the soft groans and rustles reaching a murmuring crescendo before settling with a contented moan.
“What…? What did you do?”
“You, girl. Not I.”
Chapter 4
Aida
“No! I… I can’t…”
“Come, sit.”
Brows scrunching together, Marilsa shuffled through the tall grass before she stooped and tore a clump free. She muttered to herself as she repeated the action, clearing away a small patch she then filled with more twigs and branches. Her earlier fire had disappeared during the change, this new one brought to life with flint and stone before she sat hard in a space of flattered grass.
Aida edged closer, going to her knees to stare at the flickering orange flames. Finding no sense of the dark energy Marilsa appeared to wield, she sat back on her heels and gnawed at her lower lip, taking some comfort from the known sting of teeth worrying her flesh raw.
“You did that, Aida Vertia,” Marilsa murmured, tossing a leather sack into Aida’s lap. Rushing headlong, leaving her no time to question, Marilsa continued, “You’re an Omega, child. Your power is limitless. It’s what makes you so coveted. Dangerous.”
“They said I—”
“Yes, yes, you have no power. They used to tell them all that. Back when your kind roamed free. Kept you weak, made you think you must depend upon them. Until they plunged their daggers into your chest and split you open, gutting you like a fish. After they’d made use of your slit, of course.” Marilsa sniffed, unbothered by Aida’s thready shriek or the way she hurled the bag back.
“You’re lying to me. You were going to kill me, same as them,” Aida stammered out, clambering to her feet though her knees felt watery and loose.
“Perhaps. Had you been weaker, not fought as hard, I might have gleaned what I could from you. Not as they would, mind. I’m no mage, and I do not deal in blood as they do.”
“Why? I’ve done nothing—”
“You were born, weren’t you?” Marilsa asked, venom dripping from her low hiss.
Aida jumped as the fire popped and sent a shower of sparks into the air. Wrapping her arms tight around her middle, her chin began to dip. Years of accepting the blame for things she had no control over weighed on her shoulders until she stooped and shivered.
