Page 9 of Sophie's Ruin
5
SOPHIE
Ilanded on my hands and knees, my stomach churning. Waylon crumpled to the ground next to me, quickly rolling to the side to vomit in the grass. Celeste was the only one still standing, but even she bent at the waist and braced her hands on her knees, breathing hard.
“What did you do?” I rasped, in between waves of nausea, my eyes trained on the ground below me.
My vision swam, blurring the individual blades of grass and insects crawling between them. I knew we weren’t in the study anymore as I inhaled the fresh air, willing the queasiness in my stomach to subside. Once it had, I swiftly rose to my feet, looking frantically around. Disbelief surged through me as my heart dropped like a stone to the pit of my stomach—I was in the Black Forest. A wall of trees encircled the clearing where I stood. Celeste’s weathered cottage sat under a beam of silvery moonlight a few feet behind me.
“What did you do?!” I whirled on the witch, my eyes wide.
“I brought us here using my magic,” she answered, straightening from her waist.
A gust of cool wind whipped through the clearing, stirring her long white hair, and billowing her cloak.
“Take me back!” I snarled, getting in her face.
Her features were impassive as she stared back at me, her luminous blue eyes so bright they seemed to glow.
“I will not,” she declared calmly. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Bringing us here nearly depleted my magic. Bringing even one person with you is difficult. I didn’t realize that he latched on to you until it was too late.” She nodded at Waylon, who’d stopped vomiting but still looked sickly pale, slowly rising from the ground on shaking legs.
I knew what the witch had said should rattle me—she had the ability to move through space in the blink of an eye, faster even than a vampire. My skin still tingled from the effects of her magic. Did all White Witches possess that ability? Did I?
I couldn’t bring myself to care at the moment. All I cared about was getting back to the mansion, to Henry. He was fighting for his life right now. My mind quickly conjured up an image of the battle that was undoubtedly unfolding in the study. He needed me. I needed him, too. The look he’d given me before Celeste had brought me here could not have been the last time I’d seen his face.
With a snarl of determination, I spun away from the witch, facing the direction of where New Haven lay miles away. All my muscles tensed as I prepared to cross that distance with supernatural speed.
“Don’t be foolish,” Celeste warned from behind me.
“You’re the foolish one—they’ll track my scent,” I threw over my shoulder as I stepped back with my right foot before bending my knees and leaning forward.
“No, they won’t,” Celeste said calmly. She was too calm, and that got my attention. Confused, I straightened from my pre-sprint position and turned back around to look at her. “There is a powerful protection spell on the area around the cottage that masks smells and sounds. It also veils my house, making it invisible to the naked eye. Only someone who has been here before would be able to find us.”
Henry,the thought immediately popped into my head.He’s been here before. He’ll find us…if he survives.
Despair rose and spread, coating my insides with ice. I winced in pain as shards of it pierced my heart.
“I have to go back,” I said, but my voice shook.
I’d wanted to sound firm, but the words had come out as a plea, as if I were asking for Celeste’s permission. I didn’t need it, of course, but what Ididneed was for her to stop me from making the wrong move. Deep down, I knew I shouldn’t return to the mansion.
“Henry was trying to protect you,” the witch said, looking into my eyes as if to make sure her words were sinking in. “Do not go back and undo what he did.”
“But who is going to protecthim?” I argued as tears threatened.
“Isabelle is with him,” Celeste pointed out. “Besides, it’s not him they want, it’s you. You and the Tear. Together, you two are the ultimate weapon.”
“She’s right,” Waylon chimed in from my right. He’d gotten some color back in his face but sweat still dotted his brow. “Sophie, do you have the amulet?” He was looking at me as if I was his only hope. And I supposed, at the moment, I was.
“I do have it,” I admitted, taking a step back to put some distance between us. The look in his eyes was almost maniacal, and I didn’t trust him not to lunge at me again.
“Then use it,” Waylon said vehemently, stepping toward me. “Put an end to all this. You’re the only one who can.”
“No.” I scowled at him as my hand spasmed by my right thigh, where the Tear seemed to burn through the fabric of my pants. Waylon noticed the barely-there twitch of my fingers, and his gaze dropped to my thigh, the maniacal gleam in his eyes burning brighter. “I will find another way to put an end to this,” I said quickly, taking another step back.
Waylon cared about me, always had, but did he care enough to spare my life if the alternative was saving his people? A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have faulted him for sacrificing one for the benefit of many. I’d been a different person then.
Waylon’s frenzied gaze lifted from my thigh, fastening on mine.
