Page 34 of Light and Shadow
Aaran is coming for me. His mother’s words come back, telling me that I have to survive. If Venora breaks my mind, I’m done for. I can’t let her inside me.
“She thinks someone will rescue her,” Ciaran singsongs, as if he’s amused. “Stupid little human. So helpless. Once my queen finds the key to your world’s magic, we shall spend less than a day conquering your people and making them all slaves.”
A shadow demon swoops past my face.
How had Ciaran known I was thinking about rescue?
He taps his temple. Smooth skin, long silken hair, and blue eyes, he could be from a fairy tale. Of course, some of those are pretty dark. Maybe there’s more truth in them than I ever considered.
I have to keep him out of my mind. All I have to do is what Elspeth said.Stay alive—and the song from that old seventies movie that my mom loves filters through like a crazy earworm. I repeat the lyrics over and over in my mind and float in a haze where my body and mind are disconnected.
“The shadow demon felt the magic in her world; so did the wolves. They drew from it, even though it was altered. I just need to open the human up and find her magic. Killing her now gets me no closer to using her magic to take her world.” Venora’s voice grates on the inside of my skull. The lightning she shoots comes faster and stronger.
The agony persists. My screams ring in my head. Still, I’m alive. I only need to survive long enough for someone to come for me and hope this witch queen can be distracted long enough for me to get away. It’s too much to hope for, so I just keep singing that song in my head, not all of it, just the chorus, in time to the catchy beat.
Ciaran holds the side of his head. “What is that?”
Pointing her finger at me, Venora says, “It’s her. She thinks a little mind game will keep me from flaying her open andgathering her essence. She’s foolish enough to believe she can stop me.”
There’s denial and concern in her voice. Maybe I’m wrong, but it seems to me that my repeatedly singing the same few bars is effectively bothering Ciaran. For that alone, it’s worth it.
Hope spreads from the center of my chest. It’s only the three of us in the throne room now. I worry that those the witch has imprisoned might be hurt when Aaran comes for me. At the edge of my mind, I feel him getting closer. Still, I sing on. I can’t allow Venora or Ciaran to read more of my thoughts about rescue. Just the words to the old song. I’ll give them nothing else.
When Ciaran grabs my shoulders and lifts me from the ground, there’s no beauty in him. The vile person inside his pleasing exterior shines through. His skin, which sags with age, is marked and pocked. His bright eyes are black, dull, dim and wanting. His shoulders slump with the weight of keeping Venora happy. She’s a demanding master, and he has suffered for his betrayal. Not the least sorry for him, I filter his true reflection back to him.
His eyes widen, and he cries loud enough for the rough sound to bounce off the walls. He lets me go, and I plummet to my ass.
As he staggers backward, Venora stops her torture and runs to him.
Keeping the image of his true likeness in my mind, I pray that he sees nothing else.
“What is it?”
He screams and covers his eyes as his back comes up against a pillar. Even the gold thread on his shirt dims in my sight. The skin of his throat sags, and his veins show black through papery flesh. His hands are gnarled with swollen knuckles.
As Venora pushes his hair back from his face, instead of silken white strands, I see gray, stringy and matted.
His true visage is so clear in my head that I send it to him again and again. This is what he gets for invading my thoughts.
“Make her stop, my queen. She’s killing me.” He clutches his face and hair, looking for proof that what I’m showing him is a lie.
Only it’s not a lie. It’s what I see. Maybe it’s what he knows lurks inside himself. Ugly is as ugly does, my grandmother used to say.
“Stop her!” With a shaking hand, he points one long black fingernail at me.
Venora turns. Her black cape billowing behind her, she stalks toward me. “Stop this, you miserable animal.”
Leaning on my hands, I stare at them both. “I’m not doing anything but showing him the truth. There’s no getting away from what’s inside your rotting body. Show what you want to the world, but I see you.” I have no idea where this new strength has come from, but I’m just so angry. I can’t stop using the one weapon I have to defend myself against their magic.
“Stop!” Venora charges forward, putting herself between me and Ciaran.
I pray the image he sees degrades further and shows him the unmarked grave where his fetid body will lie when his master abandons him for someone new.
“No!” His wails echo through the room, hurting my ears.
As Venora draws closer, I try to back away like a crab, but my arms give out. Even if my mind remains strong, my muscles scream with agony.
She slaps my face, then screams in pain and holds her hand tight to her chest.
