The Writer's Escape

10. The Sorceresses

The demon blindfolded her, which Serena felt was completely unnecessary— but when she tried to voice this, he failed to response. Light filtering in through the dark, scratchy fabric covering her eyes, she stumbled around, the demon guiding her steps. She kept knocking elbows against the wall or his metal armor. Then, suddenly, they jerked to a stop. "Sit," the demon said.

Serena felt around her for the edges of a chair. Slowly, she eased down onto it. She tried not to shiver as ice-cold hands unwrapped the blindfold, and she blinked the world into view.

Two of the sorceresses greeted her, the twin sisters who led the entire group. They must think Serena important, if they sent their leaders to speak with her.

Serena curled her hands around the armrests, her throat completely dry despite all the water she'd just drank, as the demon left and the door closed behind him. 

She didn't think she would ever get used to looking at the faces of characters she'd so clearly envisioned in her head. The identical twin sisters, Lillian and Dara, stared at her unblinkingly, eerie smiles fixed on their lips. 

Nearly everything about each sister was a mirror image of the other, from the short, straight dark hair cut into sharp lines at their chins, to their long necks glittering with spirit-keeper jewelry, to the white-ink tattoos snaking up their bare arms. And, of course, the tell-tale red pupils from using corrupted magic. 

Serena had to search for the differences she knew were there, but she found them: the small scar slashing across Daria's mouth, breaking open her upper lip; the small metal stud in Lillian's ear; and the slightly brighter red of Daria's eyes, like rubies to the duller, harder, and deeper red of Lillian's eyes.

"Hello, Serena," Daria said, lifting her hand and waggling her fingers in a small, sarcastic wave. "We've been waiting to speak to you."

Lillian said nothing, just smiled flatly, a hard sliding of muscles in her jaw. 

"What do you want from me?" Serena kept her back straight and met their gazes head-on: If there was one thing she knew the sorceresses despised, it was shows of weakness.

This time, it was Lillian who spoke. "You tell me."

Serena stayed silent. If she was wrong, she didn't want to give anything away.
Annoyance flashed in Lillian's red eyes. "Very well. We know who you are, Serena Scarlet, and we know you don't belong here."

She saw no point in denying it. "How did you know?" 

"Creator of worlds." Daria leaned forward, hands resting in her lap, and a playful smile danced on her lips. "You thought you would escape our notice? No one who wields so much power can walk the desert invisible. Especially not in such conspicuous company." 

"We believe you can help us," Lillian said. 

"Do I have a choice?"

Daria laughed. "No."

"We will ask the questions," Lillian said harshly. "Firstly, what are you doing here? Why have you come?"

Serena floundered for an explanation they would understand, and believe. How would she explain that she'd travelled— or, more accurately, been thrown into— her own storyworld, all because she'd been hit with such crippling writer's block she couldn't meet her deadlines? "It was a mistake," she said finally. "An accident. I didn't mean to come here, and I want to leave."

Lillian and Daria exchanged a glance, and it was clear to Serena they didn't believe her.

"I'm not lying," she said. "I have no reason to lie. I was transported here, and I have nine days to bring the— the story—" How could she explain this? "I have to finish the story of the fight between the witches and the sorceresses, and then I'll be transported back home. But I only have three more days to do so, or else I'll be stuck in this world forever." She couldn't stop the desperation and fear from leaking into her voice, though she hated herself for it.