spellbound | book #1 | completed

X X I I

[edited: 14/08/2017]

Sarah sighed as she stuck the final poster onto one of the lampposts beside the beach. Remy's mother had roped her into printing off and distributing pictures of her best friend when the police had given up on their own search for her. She knew, of course, that Remy was not missing, nor had she ran away like most people thought (though she supposed technically she had ran off into a wall), but how could she tell Remy's family that instead of being kidnapped, she had disappeared through a strange, brightly lit hole in a grotty alleyway with a man she had never seen before? Nobody would believe her, so she had kept quiet about the whole encounter—well, mostly quiet. She had spoken to Adam, Remy's only other real friend, about it, and with a bit of reluctance, he had eventually believed her. Now, they met almost every day to figure out how to find her, though none of their ideas had worked yet. 

Lost in thought, she wandered slowly to the edge of the promenade so that she could look out onto the beach, her elbows leaning against the metal bars that prevented her from falling. How many times had she done this exact same thing and found Remy sat on the damp sand, she wondered, and why had the world become so strange now that she was no longer here?

It was as though the sea itself knew that something was wrong. The tide hadn't come in in weeks, and the waves barely ever crashed onto the sand anymore. It had simply grown still, as though there was no point in any of it now that she was gone; as though the world had stopped altogether.

She had never thought she would miss Remy this much, either, which made her feel both guilty and miserable. She had always seen the blonde girl as somebody who would always be there, a constant companion in a world of temporariness. They weren't even really that close, and had only chosen one another because there was nobody better, but now she wished she would have made more of an effort.

With the wind blowing brown wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail across her face, she wondered what it was that Remy was doing, wherever she was. She wondered whether she was happier or simply missed home, and whether she had found a friend in that strange man of hers who claimed to be a wizard or warlock—Sarah couldn't remember which it was now. Lost in her thoughts, she barely even noticed that she had company.

"I see that you are looking for your little mortal friend."

Sarah jumped and twisted around to face whoever it was that had spoken. She recognised him immediately to be the man who had chased Remy the last time she had seen her, and paled. He was dressed the same as she remembered, all in black with a trench coat that flowed all the way down to his boots. He was holding the poster that Sarah had just put up in his hand, a smirk that didn't seem very friendly on his face.

"You won't find her," he continued, his eyes—which, much to Sarah's shock, were completely black—taunting. "She is no longer in the Mortal World."

Sarah frowned and took a step backwards. "You know where she is?"

"Of course I do, girl." He scoffed and ripped the poster up so that the pieces flew away with a sharp gust of wind. "These signs of yours cannot help her. Nothing can help her now, not unless she gives us what we want."

"I don't understand," she whispered through chattering teeth. It was cold, though winter was slowly turning into spring, and she crossed her arms to pull her cardigan closer to her body. "Is she in danger?"

The man laughed so hoarsely that it sounded more like the growl of a lion, and Sarah realised that perhaps he was not telling her this to help her, but rather, to scare her. Still, she could not understand why. What would he gain by telling Sarah, who was barely involved at all and had no idea how to find her friend, that Remy was in some sort of trouble? "She will be, when Ackmard gets his hands on her."

"Why are you telling me this?" She looked around, wondering if anybody had noticed the threatening man, but it was the middle of rush hour and everybody looked too desperate to get home to care. Even in Calderdale, it was busy. People bustled past with their eyes glued to their phones, oblivious to anything other than themselves. She wondered what would happen if the man tried to hurt her. Perhaps nobody would notice, she thought, and wiped her clammy hands against her jeans in an attempt to calm herself down. 

"Well," the man circled around her, and she followed him with her gaze, "I simply came to ask a favour. If you wish to help your friend, I am sure that you will oblige."

"But you don't want to help her," she pointed out with narrowed eyes, "that's why you were chasing the man she was with. That's why they had to run through whatever that thing in the wall was to get away from you. Whatever you have to offer me, it won't work."

He looked surprised that she was able to deduct such a thing and Sarah felt rather insulted that he expected anything less than common sense from her. "You are not as stupid as you look, girl."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever this is about, I want no part in it. Remy always gets herself into trouble, but not her. I'm smart enough to know better. Leave me alone." She didn't feel as guilty as she knew she should have saying such a thing, for it was a known fact that Remy was reckless and didn't think things through, whereas Sarah was sensible and cautious. She missed her friend, yes, but she was not prepared to put herself in danger to get her back.

"I am offering you help to get your friend back, and you are refusing?" His eyes darkened, if that was possible. Sarah noticed that they held no reflection the way that normal pupils did, and they did not shine when he faced the sunlight, either. "How wrong our people are when they say that mortals think only with their hearts. It is clear that you are much more selfish and intelligent than that."

Sarah said nothing, only pursed her lips. To him, this seemed to be an invitation to continue.

"Or," he said thoughtfully, "perhaps you just do not care about your friend as much as you should. Perhaps she is nothing to you, and all of this," he motioned with his arms to the sign-posted lampposts, all of them wearing Remy's face, "is just for show. A half-hearted effort that you might convince yourself that you care." 

"She's my best friend, and I want to find her, just not like this. Not with you." She said it with confidence, though she could not help wondering if perhaps he was right. But then she thought of all of the time she had spent with Remy and a pang shot through her, reminding her of how much she missed her.

"You are afraid of me." He leaned into her until his cold breath tickled her ear lobe. He smelled like leather and salt, and Sarah flinched. "You should be."

She shuddered and stepped away, gripping onto the bars to keep from stumbling.

"You have made a mistake in refusing me, girl. Next time we meet, do not expect me to be so understanding." With one final smirk, he walked away. Sarah's blood ran cold, as though even by looking at her he had been able to encase her in ice and freeze her body in place.  

She might have stayed there for much longer than she did if it did not begin to rain, and then, a few moments later, thunder. Black clouds rolled in as though the sea was pulling them towards land, and Sarah did not think that the sudden change in weather was a coincidence.

As she walked home, umbrella in hand, she thought about going to the police, but then she would have to tell them about Remy and she knew that would not work. Each time that she passed pictures of her best friend, she bowed her head ashamedly, thinking about what she had said to the man, and how she was not the least bit willing to help her if it meant putting herself in danger.

For the first time since her disappearance, she hoped that Remy did not come back, because if she did, she would certainly not be happy with Sarah.