The Last Harmon [Complete]

Chapter 5

Two of Amara's most experienced warlocks escort me to the dungeons beneath her mansion. My plan worked, but I'm trying not to let it show. It was a risky plan, but to quote Amara's reasoning, it was the only way.

"Why am I the only one in shackles?" I complain to the warlocks as I pass wiccans that are free to move their hands inside their damp, dark cells. "Does she fear me?"

"It's protocol for Harmons to be shackled," a warlock grunts.

"But I thought the cells were spelled so that no magic can get out of them?" I say.

"They are."

"Oh. Oh, she really does fear me."

They very unkindly unlock a cell door and throw me inside. I stand with my back to them, glancing around my new home. There's a bed, a toilet, and a drip. The drip is annoying. Almost instantly I grit my teeth.

"Hope you like your new bedroom, traitor," the warlock says, in an attempt to goad me.

I wait until they are both gone before I try to stick my face out of the bars of the cell. I quietly call for Victoria, and when I don't hear her respond, relief flows into me. If she's not down here then at least she's alright, she might had made it out. I hope she made it out.

"Hey, hey you," a voice calls mysteriously. "I know you."

Is the voice talking to me? I look left. A young man with dark hair and an over-grown beard has his face against the bars too, his face is darkened by dust and dirt, but he looks familiar.

"Theresa, right?" he says. "We were at school together."

"Sure," I say. "Joey, isn't it?"

He nods. "It's been a long time. I remember you from advanced potions class, I'd never forget the girl that made the entire class invisible to our professor."

"Those were simpler times." I smile to myself. "Childish fun."

"Nah, not for you. You aced those classes. You were better than the entire class put together. You have Harmon magic, right? So, can you bust us out of here?"

I lift up my arms to show him the shackles and he bites on his lip in frustration. I offer him a frown. "Afraid not," I mutter.

"Dammit," he says.

"Why are you here?" I say.

"Not all of us agree with Amara's ways," he whispers. "I was helping mortals escape when this all went down, turned out that it's not allowed."

I scoff. "You've been here for five years?"

"Hence the beard."

"Right."

"What about you?" he says, eyeing me suspiciously. "You don't strike me as the law-breaker kind."

"I blew up Amara's statue."

"Bad ass. I bet she didn't like that. Shame you didn't hit the real thing."

I stare at him.

"Kidding," he laughs. "Well, not so much. If it were that easy it would have been done by now."

"She has protection," I whisper. "A thousand Elder's magic worth."

"Unlucky for us. All our lives we're taught and programmed to devote ourselves to our Elder, that they will save us, help us, unite us. What a load of crap that turned out to be."

I smile for a moment before meeting his eyes. "She believes we are in danger, from demons. And as 'descendants of angels' it is our duty to stop them. Do you believe that?"