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I didn’t care what happened if the Barghest used my soul to become the King of England. Back then, the country that abandoned me could burn.
Now, I have a reason to keep England out of the clutches of that creature–Alienor. But I have to save her, first. Time is passing. If I stay, she will surely die.
With a final glance over my shoulder, I make a mental note never to return to this realm. The magic here is weak compared to the grandmother’s ash trees. I no longer need this place to replenish my power.
“If you won’t allow me safe passage out of this realm, then I will take an alternative route.”
I walk into the circle of broken mushrooms, not caring about the dangers.
The Barghest growls. “Wait!”
It’s too late. I have already wasted precious time talking to this creature.
Now, I must rescue Alienor.
If the journey breaks my immortal body into millions of spores, then perhaps my soul will become free to join hers.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
ALIENOR
Everything hurts.
My bones ache as though they’ve been crushed in an avalanche. My skin stings from being sliced open by shards of glass.
Even my organs feel pulverized.
And my head…
An ache resounds through my broken chest and grates against the back of my throat. It’s so dry and coated with plaster dust that I wonder if I’ve been mummified.
On the plus side, all this agony means that I’m still alive. Or probably dying.
Everything is dark, and I can’t move a limb, open my eyelids, or even twitch a toe. So, I’m trapped in this prison of pain. I inhale a trembling breath and focus beyond the discomfort.
Nothing is weighing down my body, and it feels like I’m lying flat. Lying flat in a coffin or lying flat on a surface meant for the living. That’s the real question?
A soft breeze brushes against my skin, and my nostrils fill with the scent of ripe apples. So, I’m outside, laid out on the paving stones, somewhere between Grandma’s house and the cottage ruins.
“What took you so long?” Grandma asks, her voice sharp.
“You didn’t specify the nature of the medical emergency,” Aunt Klara mutters. “Besides, it took a while to find Aggie.”
Grandma mutters something under her breath.
“What has she done now?” Aunt Klara asks, sounding bored.
“Does it matter?”
“From the looks of those black wisps over the cottage, I suppose she’s opened something dark.”
“That’s what the rest of the coven is for,” Grandma says. “But we can’t fix those rifts until we help Alienor.”
Grandma rattles off a list of my injuries. Cracked skull, crushed spine, fractured ribs, broken humerus, dislocated kneecaps, multiple lacerations and two ruptured arteries temporarily staunched to prevent exsanguination.
With every word, my spirits sink deeper into the ground, until they’re hovering somewhere beneath the roots of the chamomile flowers. I try to tune out Grandma’s voice and lose myself in oblivion, but Aunt Klara’s exasperated huffs grate on my frayed nerves.
What on earth is that woman’s problem? I always knew she found me annoying and a burden to the family, but she acts like I’m the first young witch to have ever gotten herself into trouble. From her belligerent tone, it sounds like she thinks healing a family member is a major inconvenience.
