Page 48 of Hex
“Pierce?” My throat feels scratchy and I sit up with his help. “Wha—” The rest of my sentence is lost as I look around.
The tavern has collapsed, now a pile of rubble and small, burning fires. Bodies litter every surface for as far as I can see, all of them blackened, half of them crumbling with each gust of wind.
The thing I can’t see, however, is Hack.
Panic begins to rise, my breathing stops, and my eyes fill with tears that drop immediately.
“Where is he, Pierce?” I know he’s alive. I feel it. I know it, soul-deep, that he isn’t dead…but I also know that he isn’t here.
“I don’t know.” Instead of looking up at him, I concentrate on the mass grave surrounding us.
There are vines wrapped around several of the headless bodies, reminding me how hard Hack fought to get to me. His roars of pain and anger, the grief-stricken yells to get to me…all for nothing. Because he is gone.
A glint among the bodies makes me stand and I walk toward it, my steps sure and determined. Bending down, I pull out thecrystal dagger, hoping the charred mess it comes from belongs to the professor.
This was supposed to be a nice little trip to meet the Dei of the spirit kyn, the djinn who should hold some answers for us, but no. It has turned into the shittiest shitfest of all shitshows.
“Where did you find that?” Pierce slowly approaches from behind, the crunch of bodies beneath every step.
Is it wrong that I don’t hate the sound? It actually pleases something inside of me.
All emotion has fled, though, because if I allow myself to actually feel right now, I’m going to crumble alongside all of these bodies. It’s like a switch has been flipped, and the only thing on my mind is finding Hack. I don’t care who has to die in the process.
I suppress a shiver, because that was a bit dark…
Okay, so maybe not all emotion has fled, but I am pushing it way down. So deep down that it fuels me, rather than hinders me.
“Apparently, the professor who kidnapped Danika found me. Decided he wants me too. Cut through my protective dome thing like a slice of fucking cake with this.” I hold it out to him. “He was right in front of me when I passed out, though. I don’t know if he is that black pile of ash, or if he got away.”
“This is an angel blade.” He holds it up close to his face, squinting, really inspecting it. “No markings that say who it came from, but they were supposed to have been taken out of existence during the last big war.”
Something else glitters from beneath the ash at my feet and I crouch down to pick it up. It’s round, and as soon as it’s in my palm, a voice filters through my mind.
“Found you. Now I have your chosen. Come and find me.”
The ball falls from my grasp and smashes into a thousand pieces, a light mist coming from it and disappearing into the air.
“Why did I just hear a voice when I picked that up? And what the hell happened to all these bodies? How long was I out for?” Again with all the questions, I know. My priority is to find Hack, but I need the simple answers first. I think.
I don’t fucking know, to be honest.
I push down the despair trying to creep its way in, replacing it with steely determination that is fake as fuck. Fake it ‘til ya make it, though, right?
“That was a djinn communication ball. But for it to be untouched by your power, it must have been dropped after you blew. Every djinn has a master, even the Dei…” He’s talking to himself more than me and I’m no less confused and angry than before.
“Sorry to make this all about me, but also not sorry. What the fuck, Pierce?” I know him the least of all the Horsemen, but what I do remember is that he can go in on himself when he is trying to solve a puzzle. It’s his strength and his weakness. His desire to figure something out has been known to override his basic needs.
“You were out for a few seconds. After you lost control and let loose a small atomic bomb, of sorts, blowing everyone and everything around us to smithereens. I checked you over. You aren’t injured, and neither was I. What did the voice from the ball say?” Pierce swiftly turns the conversation away from my murder spree, brushing over it as though it’s nothing.
Whereas I have a giant ball of guilt growing in my stomach.
“This was me…?” I spin on the spot, the stench of rotting flesh now permeating my nostrils and making this all too real.
“Sage, you shouldn’t feel guilty for this. You saved us. There were too many of them. They were prepared.”
“I didn’t save fucking Hack, though, did I? Because he’s not here. He’s been taken by some fuckwit who wants to play hideand go fucking seek.” I haven’t cursed this much since my hatred for Hack was the only thing on my mind.
“Sage…”
