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I see the boys. They’re standing in a row on a meadow with the lake behind them, their faces blank, their eyes devoid of any emotion. In the cold winter evening, they stand shirtless, legs clad in long pants, but their feet are bare, too, I notice. The light in the sky is fading, the eastern clouds bathed in red, casting reddish reflections on them.
A ritual.
At least elemental magic doesn’t require blood to be spilled like demonblood spells, I think, my thoughts echoing inside my head.
Ophelia is standing in front of them dressed in a long black dress, her hair piled on top of her head. She looks dramatic, like a heroine in a tragedy. My cousin likes theater, I’ve come to realize.
Lifting her arms, throwing her head back, she begins an incantation.
Oh yes, plenty theatrical. She enjoys the mise en scène, casting herself in the role of the romantic witch. Ashton’s ring glimmers on her hand, the earrings of Sindri and Emrys on her ears, Jason’s bracelet is stark on her wrist. She flicks her hands and a wind wraps around the boys like a snake, turning faster and faster. It whips their short hair, sends shadows across their faces.
No! I have to stop this. If only I could feel my body, move my limbs. Frustration rises as I desperately struggle to move without results.
As I watch in horror, Ophelia’s chant becomes louder, the wind blowing harder, and a piece of paper flutters to her feet.
For a long moment, nothing changes. She’s chanting, the wind howling, the boys caught in its coils, hair in their eyes, their mouths pale, their hands at their sides as if bound there. I can feel their magic spilling out, water and earth, air and fire. I can feel the way it links to her, spilling into her against their will.
It’s a rape, I think. There’s no other word for it. Brainwashing them with a spell to think they want it doesn’t change what it is. It makes me sick to my stomach.
But the chanting stops and the wind falls.
Ophelia frowns. She bends to pick up the piece of paper and unfolds it. For a moment her expression hovers between incredulity and anger.
“A heart?” she mutters eventually. “Really, cousin. Could you be any cornier… And honestly, you thought I’d let this pass?”
She shreds the paper as the boys stand there impassively, their heads tousled, their eyes flat like mirrors, leaves and twigs caught in their hair and on their pants.
Then she turns and goes, leaving them to stand there, and I return to my body, still seated on the chair at my desk, gasping for breath.
I’m running through the campus in the night, the last light of the day gone, my hair lashing my back, my breath hanging in the cold air. She left them there, in the winter night, half-naked, probably still caught in the spell. I have to check on them, free them—
“Maddie.” She steps in my path before I reach the lake. I can see them on the shore, a row of beautiful statues.
I sidestep her. I don’t have the time for her bullshit right now. “Move.”
She steps right back in my path. “It won’t do any good if you go to them. Only I can release them.”
I grit my teeth, my hands fisting at my sides. “Then release them. It’s cold. They could fall sick. Please.”
“Oh, so sweet. You still care. Haven’t you realized yet that the game is over?”
“Let them go.”
She doesn’t move, a cold smile spreading on her lips. “You really must stop leaving love notes to my boyfriends. Frankly, you’re embarrassing yourself. What, you didn’t think I’d know?”
“I counted on it,” I grind out. “So that you’d know I’m not giving up on them.”
“You should leave them alone.”
“And if I don’t?” I snap.
“You know I can’t sit and let you try to get them back.”
“Because there is a chance I can get them back, isn’t there? It scares you.” I glare at her. “That’s why you pick them up after every class. You’re scared they might break your stupid spell and come back to me.”
“You think I’m scared.” She laughs. “You’re so wrong. All this means is that it’s time to tighten my leash. Bring them to their knees.”
Ice runs through my veins. “Lia…”
