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“Don’t give up,” Lachlan told me again. “You’re almost through—keep going, Emma! Don’t let it beat you!”
Biting back the shriek of agony that rose in my throat, I gave one final push with the golden light. At last, the manacle cracked—the golden light of my power combined with Lachlan’s running through it, in a zigzag of gold in the metal. I felt it come apart and fall away, freeing me at last from the terrible addiction.
A sob of relief rose in my throat and then Lachlan was pulling me into his arms and I was weeping against his shoulder.
“It’s all right, little one,” he murmured, stroking my back. “It’s all right—I know the pain was intense but you bore it beautifully.”
I huddled close to him, breathing in his warm, spicy scent, feeling comforted by the strength of his arms around me.
“That was awful,” I whispered. “Not as bad as the geas but it was pretty bad.”
“It was also very advanced magic,” Lachlan told me. “I’m impressed—you’re learning very quickly.”
“Thanks.” I drew back from him and swiped at my eyes. Then I looked down at my hands and breathed, “Ohhhh…”
My nails were healed. They were no longer ragged and bloody and gnawed down to the quick. Instead, I saw the neat, pretty manicured nails I had always had before I’d taken my mother’s addiction on myself.
I looked up at Lachlan, so grateful I didn’t know what to say.
“You…you healed me!” I exclaimed.
He smiled and nodded.
“While you were working on breaking the addiction, I was concentrating on the healing aspect.”
“Thank you!” I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you so much, Lachlan! I didn’t like to admit it, but it really bothered me having ugly nails. Back before I looked like…like I do now, my nails and hands were the only really pretty part of me. So…they’re important to me.”
In a way, with my new appearance, my hands were the only part of me that still seemed to be me, if that makes any sense.
“Little one, you’re beautiful inside and out,” he murmured, stroking my hair. “But I’m glad you’re happy with the healing.”
“Thank you.” I was blushing as I pulled away from our hug. “And thank you for helping me bear the pain. I don’t think I could have done it otherwise—I couldn’t have stood it.”
“It was a heavy addiction to break—I knew it would hurt,” he said, nodding. “But you did well—you didn’t try to push the pain away, even when it got really bad.”
“I wouldn’t want anyone or anything else to have to take the consequences for me,” I said, frowning. “That was really painful. It might have killed an oak tree or a bunny rabbit or something.”
“Try a whole warren of rabbits,” Lachlan said grimly. “Or a much larger creature—a horse or stag. It took a lot of power to break the chain that held your mother to her smoking—which you unwittingly took on yourself when you freed her. The price would have been heavy for the natural world if you had pushed the pain away from yourself.”
“I can see why people are tempted to do it, though,” I said seriously. “Tempted to do Grey Magic, I mean. Nobody wants to endure that kind of agony.”
“No, they don’t,” Lachlan said seriously. “But sometimes it’s necessary.” He took my newly healed hands in his and looked at me earnestly. “It’s important never to compromise, Emma—never give in and take the easy route. Always pay for what you take. Because once you start doing Grey Magic, it’s a slippery slope downwards.”
“Is that why you never do it?” I asked. “Because you’re afraid it will lead to Black Magic that will, uh, corrode your soul?”
“I come from the Dark Lands—from the Winter Court,” Lachlan said. “Half of my soul is already corrupted because of who my parents are and where I come from. I don’t dare do anything but White Magic or the corruption could spread.”
“Really?” I looked at him, wide-eyed. “But…that doesn’t seem fair. How could your soul already be half-corrupted just because of who your parents are?”
He shrugged.
“It’s just the way things are. I was conceived in violence and born into hate and fear.” He shook his head. “Thank Nature I also had love to balance it out, or I would be wholly a creature of the darkness.”
“I…don’t understand.” I shook my head. “Who were your parents exactly? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking,” I added quickly.
Lachlan looked down at his hands for a long time before he answered. At last he spoke in a low voice.
“Remember the ogre that Bran saved me from, the last time we saw each other in the Realm? The one that caused the life-debt between us?”
“Yes,” I murmured. “What about it?”
“The ogre was…” He cleared his throat and looked up at me. “That was my father.”
