Page 123 of Malicent
Out in the courtyard, the bell chimes midnight.
Time for my lesson.
I walk toward the temple. There’s no point in hurrying to my own execution. My limbs move, but they are not mine. It’s routine at this point. I’m outside myself—detached—as the elders strip me beside the circular altar.
I let them, eventually dissociating and going somewhere far from here.
This is what saves people from me.
That’s what I tell myself. Over and over, I summon my mother’s face, her words, and her hope.
I don’t blame you, baby. You are so strong. Now I need you to be brave.
I forgive you. It’s not your fault. I should have gotten you help sooner.
I cling to the voice—hers—or the memory of it, as if it might keep me from splintering apart completely.
I lie on the cold stone altar, stripped bare beneath the painted ceiling. There is no measure of warmth remaining in my body.
The art on the temple ceiling depicts some type of war in the heavens. Angels and demons are locked in eternal violence. One weeping angel takes a spear through the chest. I stare at him. He’s the only one who looks like he wants to leave. Who could blame him? This place is far from heavenly.
My wrists and ankles are weighed down with silver chains, far too heavy for even me to snap.
Nora begins her ritual in a language I don’t understand. The others join her, hooded and silent, with antelope skulls on their heads.
They descend. Blades flash across my arms, legs, and chest. They carve me open in practiced strokes.
Nora stands over me, cutting matching runes into my chest, mirroring the ones she carved on my back. Even with healing, I can’t hide them anymore. The scars are permanent now, like she wants.
A belt is shoved between my teeth. The sour leather taste fills my mouth. I bite down hard, and my jaw cramps from the pressure.
I can’t scream anymore. My voice is shredded. My back arches off the stone as a wave of magic crashes through me.
“Hold,” Nora’s voice calls out sharply.
Hands grab me, and blades press down, forcing me flat again. My vision starts to darken, slipping into a never-ending black tunnel as life is drained from me.
“I said hold him!” Nora yells again, dragging me from the brink. The stone disappears beneath me.
I’m levitating. The chains scrape loud against the altar as they stretch, restraining me just above the surface. The chains whine, pulled taut as my body attempts to rise higher. Power thrums through me, each wave forcing me up.
Hands press down again, harder this time. Even the witches are straining now.
“Nora, we can’t hold him!”
Something in me is awakening, and it does not want to be chained. The alien force causes every cell in my body to vibrate violently. I can’t get enough air into my lungs as this overwhelming feeling of transformation consumes me, swellingthrough organs and tissues; the change occurs within my very soul.
Nora curses as she raises her blade, aiming for my heart.
I’m too injured and drained to even begin to fully grasp what’s happening. However, I can understand she means to kill me. Then panic hits. A new wave of adrenaline courses through me, mixing with festering fear like acid in my veins.
Then, suddenly, a gust of wind extinguishes every torch in the room.
Darkness.
From every shadowed corner,theyarrive.
Beasts tear through the shadowed alcoves, no two alike. Their forms flicker and shift between cloud and flesh, fog and fang. Snarls erupt into screams as they pounce.
