Where else can I go?
I skid to a stop just inside, turning to face him.
He fills the hall with his coiling, churning form. He is nothing but a tenebrous cloud and a pair of piercing eyes. But he doesn’t reach for me; he makes no move to attack. It’s as if he is allowing me this one thing, allowing me to make the choice he never had. The choice to run.
The audacity of it enrages me. He brought me here, cajoled me into his inner sanctum, took my body in every possible way. And now he presumes to give me a choice?
An electric shock like heat lightning shivers through me. I vibrate from the inside like a live wire. I do notrequire his permission. I will not allow him to use me, to consume in whatever way he chooses.
What happens next will be inmycontrol.
I turn and cross the threshold. The cold air steals my breath. My bare feet slide in the half-frozen mud and I nearly lose my balance, but I catch myself. I keep going. I won’t look back. I can’t look back. But as his words slam into my mind, I wonder if I will ever truly escape him.
I’LL HAVE WHAT’S MINE, MIDONIA. WHETHER IT’S GIVEN OR TAKEN, I WILL HAVE IT.
15
The truth sits wedged at the base of my diaphragm, shallowing my breaths, sending waves of sharp pain up my chest. If everything he showed me was true, then the sisters won’t let me leave, not without a fight. But I can’t follow that thought to its conclusion. I’m not going to let the sisters keep me here; I will not allow them togiveme to him like some virginal sacrifice.
His words echo in my mind:There is a cosmic connection between us, a tether, that grows stronger with every moment that I’m near you.
Only you can make me whole again.
Why should I care about him? Who is he to me?
But I’m lying to myself. I know exactly who he is to me. My lifelong shadow. My nightmare. Worse, I am all too aware of the way he makes me feel. The way he consumes me, envelops me, scalds me from within as if I am a sun reborn. He makes me feel like I was always made for something more. Born under the right star. The heavens themselves conspired to link us. Should I ignore it?
I realize I’ve stopped in my descent; I’m hesitating.
‘No, Midonia,’ I say aloud. I continue down, my bare feet skidding in the mud, ripped raw against loose gravel and undergrowth. What could they possibly do to stop me from leaving, now that I know I was brought here to feed him? That herequestedme, like an item off a menu?
As I near the village, the glow of the bell tower pierces nighttime fog. The bell itself seems suspended, hung in a cocoon of gold light, the night held at bay on all sides. I feel as if I’ve stepped through some unseen veil into another world, a quiet nightmare, where soft footsteps and whispered words lead me to unthinkable horrors.
A chill caresses the back of my neck. A pressure; a presence. Something is behind me. I am not alone here. He is coming.
I hurtle down the mountainside, breaths trapped in my throat by a web of terror. My lungs burn, the skin of my feet breaks open and bleeds. I feel him shadowing me. Is he chasing me? Or simply watching to see what I’ll do? There’s no doubt in the stench of my sweat, in the slam of my heart inside me: I am terrified. But there’s a horrible thrill in my chest, an ache of pleasure in my belly. That sickening thrill is shameful, a thing I push away, try to ignore, to bury in the furthest reaches of my psyche.
By some miracle I make it into the village withoutfalling and breaking my neck. Everything is mud-slick and chilled. Soon the ground will be a churn of brown ice, uneven and treacherous. The cold bites against my feet. I desperately want my clothes back. My leather boots and jacket, thick and warm and functional, seem like the greatest luxury in contrast with this thin underdress. For an instant, I consider going to look for them. Returning to my hut, hoping to find my clothes all washed and folded on the bed, waiting for me.
But I know they won’t be there. I know my clothes are gone for good.
And there is something else I think I know, something I need to confirm with my own eyes.
My ship stands exactly where I landed it, exactly as it should be. It is steadfast. It’s my home, as much as anywhere can be a home. I pause a few meters away. The village is quiet. I see smoke rising from chimneys, light pouring from half-open windows. They must think I’m already taken by their god, consumed whole. They have no idea. They believe they’ve done their duty, that all is well, and will remain so forever.
This sickening realization bolsters me. They won’t be looking for me.
Please, I think, closing my eyes tightly for a moment before reaching for my ship’s door control.Please, please, please let me be wrong.
I press the button.
Nothing happens.
Movement out of the corner of my eye. I spin, and I only catch a glimpse; a flicker of darkness, moving from one shadow to another; but it is enough. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
He’s here.
I remember his words:I’LL HAVE WHAT’S MINE, MIDONIA. WHETHER IT’S GIVEN OR TAKEN, I WILL HAVE IT.
