I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! I thought I'd make you guys happy and post a bit early. And I swear it isn't going to be this depresso the entire time.
: )
Norah
Norah wasn't supposed to be listening. But she wanted something solid to grasp onto when nothing felt real. This might not be real. It had happened last night as she talked to Bronn and Mor in the living room. It had taken her a while to get into the conversation, to actually find herself enjoying it. And then she blinked, and they were gone and Kaiden and a guard were at the table pretending to be oblivious and Etin was beside her, clad in shadows.
"Her body could give out any second," the doctor said, his voice low and crisp but muffled through the walls and closed doors. Norah had met the healer several times before, with his dark, peppered hair and thin lips.
"You're a doctor, you tell people if they have six, twelve months to live all the time all the time," Kaiden said. "Why can't you do it now?"
"This is different," Cody defended.
"If this were anybody else they'd be dead," the doctor continued. "Several of the issues she has now should have her incapacitated or insane. Factors that shouldn't be affecting her are and vise versa. There is no medical or healer precedence for this situation."
"So you have no idea what's happening to her?" Holland asked, his voice gruff from frustration.
"I do not." No hesitation, no edge. Just facts softened with sympathy.
Norah had heard enough. Her death was chaotic. It was unpredictable and uncontrollable.
She padded out of the narrow hallways that seemed to roll like waves beneath her feet. and into the giant living room. High, vaulted ceilings and grand windows looked out onto a barren, rocky plain that stretched endlessly.
"If anyone's coming," one of the guards had said. "We'll see them."
But Norah didn't settle in like the others. Maybe they saw what this was, maybe they didn't. But Norah felt like a fish whose owner moved it from a bowl into a tank. They could stick their hand in the water all they wanted while she could never leave the walls of her tank. Doctors, counselors, psychiatrists, every kind of person who might save a hopeless case came through portals. The Hollands left for work, calling the dark mage to help them disappear into an oval pit of darkness. Only she and the guards the Headmaster sent and could not leave.
For most of the day, at least one of the Hollands was reading and writing notes. Norah asked if she could help, even if she had to read the same sentence over a dozen times. But they had said no. She caught glimpses of laptop pages of a male god with claws and a tail and she saw peeks of books about the darkness. Norah had nodded and walked away, her anger beating like a low, steady drum.
She tried to remind herself that she had agreed to this, had even thought of it before Holland and Cedric brought it up. But that didn't seem to make the experience any less frustrating. She was bored and angry. She couldn't be privy to any battle plans or logistical information because her mind couldn't be trusted. Etin walked in and out of her head, plucking her memories like flower petals. Whatever she knew; Etin knew.
The days blurred together with only brief bursts of activity to mark the time. Holland and Kaiden had begun training her to use Etin's magic. They poked her anger, like prodding embers for flames. Taunts were thrown to stoke her, small shoves and punches - slow enough that even a novice could dodge - infuriated her. But she never let the darkness come, only tried to let a trickle out of the sea. It was counterproductive, Norah knew that, but every time she'd used that power it had been in bursts and the darkness was not kind to its victims. She could lash out and break something the healers couldn't fix. So Norah practiced late at night while a guard watched from the porch.
Once everyone fell asleep, Dagen came down from the loft Bronn called the Spiders Den. It was nestled above the second floor only and was accessible by climbing a ladder into the dark space from which Dagen watched everything. Norah only knew he was there by the glint of his spinning daggers or the sight of Eoin appearing beside her to relay something Dagen said.
Each day he'd come down from his perch and teach her how to pickpocket or they'd search the house and collect dead bugs to resurrect while Riveta sat and worked with other doctors on the phone, nibbling on sliced veggies in the way she did when stressed.
And as much as Norah hated when people asked how she felt, she couldn't help but want to ask Riveta. She hadn't known the neighbors for over ten years like the Hollands, and didn't feel the weight of their loss like Riveta. She was quieter, her smiles less frequent but still bright. Norah had noticed Holland was more affectionate to Riveta, not dramatically, but a subtle kind of soothing. Small touches and hugs. Quick kisses and quiet conversations that made her smile.
The night draws on, the windows an unsettling color of pitch black. Norah imagines Etin watching her even if she knows he is far away. She focuses on the pain coursing through her, the tendrils, the pounding in her head, the floor rocking beneath her. She vomits in the bathroom, her pulse quickening and her nerves wound tighter and tighter like a clock or coiled spring. It has been some time since she has seen Etin, and the longer he is gone, the closer the shoe was to dropping. She just didn't know what kind of shoe he would be or when it would drop.
Pain is temporary, Norah chanted to herself. She cleaned herself up and went downstairs to resurrect a fly. It could be worse.
As the sun rose, a bright orange-yellow orb slowly finding its way to the sky, and Riveta went to bed while Evra took her place. Norah and Evra talked and Evra taught her how to play an old card game before drifting into stories of Holland and his siblings when they were younger. Norah liked to listen to them, some even made her lips twitch.
The metallic clinking of a dog collar sounded from upstairs and Evra's eyes glinted with amusement. "Kaiden's up."
Footsteps thunder down the stairs along with the jingle of dog tags. Norah barely has time to see Ghost tearing down the stairs and into the kitchen before he rockets into the living room.
Ghost charges to them, his tail thumping rhythmically as he sticks his black nose into their palms. Norah ruffles his thick hair and scratches his pointy ears while Ghost sniffs the lump beneath the blanket. Squirm squeezes tighter into a ball.
After that it doesn't take long for the rest of the family to wake up. Doors open and shut, showers run, and then the first hints of breakfast begins to waft through the house. The aroma of toasted bread, coffee, eggs, and sausage flutters from the kitchen right as Etin, the darkness, and gods all drift into the room.
The ladder creaks and Norah feels Dagen's presence behind her, a quick flash of his cloak the only indication he has entered the kitchen. As he arrives, the conversation changes.
"I just..." Mor started, sounding perplexed. "It just worries me. What did she mean by 'I see you?'"
"Maybe she saw The Darkening inside Norah?" Holland suggested. "It might have been a threat or a promise to find her later, I don't know; it's frustrating."
"Dagen," Bronn said, as if pleasantly surprised to have another opinion. "You were there, any guesses?"
They had asked him this the night Quinnlyn attacked and Norah had fought the urge to cut him when he said no. And the Hollands had said nothing.
"Nice, try," the mage scoffed. "If you want to know, talk to Norah."
Anger seized her and the tendrils shook through her. She imagined stuffing his mouth with that stupid cloak.
"If you just tell us," Evra said, laying their trap. "We could better protect Norah."
"Have you seen those marks on her?" He made it sound obvious, like there wasn't any other reason why he might keep her secret. "They can kill ghosts, imagine what that stuff can do to me. I'm not going against her."
I should have bribed him, she thought. Hurt clanged through her. She hated herself for feeling like this. She hadn't paid Dagen off, or blackmailed him, or threatened him. She had just trusted him enough to keep it.
Which he was, she reminded herself but the anger only swelled. He hadn't said anything that wasn't going against their deal, but he was still inferring that she knew something. Which meant they would be on to her if she didn't play her cards right.
But something struck her.
Fear was keeping him silent. Not some made-up club Dagen says he has or some wordless conversation, but fear. Fear that she could create. Fear that she could control.
Norah didn't think she would play that card, but now that she knew... It felt like her chains had slackened. Just an inch.
Footsteps, quiet as a cat's paws, made their way through the hall. Dagen balanced a plate of food and chewed on a sausage and disappeared back into the loft.
She refused to look at him and refused to move off the couch. It would feel like giving in, like Dagen was winning a war he didn't know about.
The couch dipped a few minutes later as Holland sat next to her.
"Hey, kid."
She glanced at him, then the coffee in his hand. He offered it to her but her exhaustion was beyond a cup of coffee.
"Remember when you said we'd rent a cabin and go on vacation." She forced her voice light, casual. Simply remembering an old memory.
He looked out the window where Rima sat, sprawled across the warm rocks and watching them. "It could be worse. You could be locked in some cell."
I already am. She wanted to scream, to rip her hair out of her scalp because he didn't see. She wasn't in invisible shackles, but this was still a jail. Then she hated herself, it could be worse and it would get worse. A memory drifted in, of Holland in that dark, tiny blood-stained room, beating a guard who had likely kept him prisoner.
She shouldn't be complaining.
They sat there for a moment and she could feel the air thicken.
"Norah," he said quietly. "Do you know what Quinnlyn meant by 'I see you?'"
She thought for a moment. "Dramatics? She seems like a diva."
"This diva," he said firmly, and there was a seriousness in his eyes that Norah would not push. "Tortured our neighbors and watched us--watched you--for days. Those people she killed, they were your mom's friends. She's a sadist, Norah."
Guilt trickled down her spine. "Sorry," she murmured, softening her face into what he wanted to see. Regret.
She looked at Rima, feeling Holland watching her and feeling his tension ease. "Norah, we're all just trying to figure out what she meant. If it's a threat or some way she can see you with her demi-god powers, however that works. I just need to know, kid."
Norah's eyes softened, apologetic. "Maybe she was talking about Etin? I mean, he wasn't in my head or anything, but he's always still there. And I had, um," she forced herself to grimace, as if the thought bothered her. "I had used his power to remove her nails, maybe it was a message for Etin like 'give in' is a message for me?"
He scrubbed his jaw. "Maybe," he admitted, eyes distant as he thought.
"Hey, Holland." His focus snapped to her, a mix between want and disappointment. Norah knew Riveta told him that she had called her mom, and Holland was still waiting. "I'm really tired, is it okay if I sleep? It's just... It's been four days and everything moves and my eyes hurt."
He swallowed, paling. He nodded. "Yeah, someone can do that, I have to go to Khalier for a meeting."
"Okay," she said and went to her bed to sleep.
-------------------------------
Clarika screams. Bones snap. White sprinkles across seas of red.
Norah is tied to the chair, her head yanked back, Maxwell's long fingers seizing her hair. She sobs, her ears straining against the screams, her face itchy with flesh and slick with freezing blood.
Another memory plucked from her mind, one Etin forces onward agonizingly slow. He speaks to her, sometimes his words caressing her ear or shouting into it. But each word criticized what she did not do or say. Things that would have changed the outcome of her sister's life and hers.
He never lets her reach the end of the memory. Never lets Rima tear Maxwell's legs off and stomp on him while meeting the grey dragon's eyes.
"I watched my family die, and now you have no choice but to do the same," Maxwell said, and then Clarika is whole in front of her, chin up, eyes defiant. And the cycle begins again.
And again.
And again.
And again. Until she doesn't hear the screaming or the growling only stares and feels empty and numb.
"If you had learned to keep your mouth shut, you would be dead and she alive." Etin's words slice her ears. She feels the blood drip down her neck, into her shirt, and freeze in the blizzard.
And then the dragon turns on her, tearing her apart. And Clarika is in the chair with a blank face and empty eyes. She does not cry, does not scream or beg like Norah did. Because Clarika was always stronger than her.
"You are alive because she was strong. You are alive because she is dead," Etin said through Norah's screams. She couldn't move, her limbs pinned to the ground by chains like the Silent Stone digging into her neck. And then she was on the jagged rocks, the storm raging on, her organs scattered everywhere as a pack of animals fought over her corpse. But, of course, Norah couldn't die in Etin's realm.
All she could do was lay there, the sharp rocks stabbing her. Bugs crawled across her, moving from side to side. And then those bugs became strings, and then flesh and eventually she padded her stomach, squeezing her eyes shut at the smooth skin.
Norah shuddered, tears slipping down into her hair. She did not want to move, but beyond the thunder and crumbling of rocks and the storm, there was no bellowing voice. No realm dreams.
Etin was gone, most likely growing bored or needing to see to his armies so he left her.
For a moment, she forgets entirely why she came.
And then she sits up, her muscles aching and bones cracking as she begins padding through the remnants of her blood and entrails. She found Easton's shirt that she'd worn to sleep, long and baggy. It came to her thighs and she held it down against the wind as she wandered Etin's realm.
Far away she hears the slow grinding of rocks, like rumbling thunder that never ends. It's just another reminder the planet is being destroyed.
Norah passes a place where the ground presses against each other, pushing up pieces of earth like a mountain. She comes to the edge of the world and peers over the ledge. Storms explode in white flashes and a crack follows seconds later. The clouds drift up like erupting clouds, rising high above her until it blends into the storm surrounding her.
The darkness shifts like a curtain at her back.
Norah does not move. She wanted to mention Quinnlyn and Khalixis, but he had searched her memories the moment she entered his realm. He already knew and he had been angry enough to force her to relive her sister's death.
Neither of them said anything for a while, and Norah's nerves wound tighter.
He said, in a calm, yet irritated way. " You cannot deceive me, I am a god."
"I hate you." The words were weak, lost in the howling, raging storm. But he was in her head--her soul--he knew.
The darkness chuckled, looming behind her. "And I you."
Anger licked the emptiness inside her. She wanted to make him hurt. "Khalixis-"
Smoke pierced her skin, like spearing a fish with hooks. Her head jerked to the god in shadows, her jaw bleeding. "I know, you wretched worm. Nothing you have witnessed is hidden from me."
Her anger spiked. "What is the point of this?" she seethed. "You see into my head and you know what I want-"
"What you want is weak!"
"What I want is beneficial to us both!"
His grip tightened and Norah bit down her whimper. "It is only beneficial to you. I seek no companion."
"But," she grit out. "It was fun."
He released her and she yanked her chin back, refusing to touch the puncture marks on her face "Maybe we don't have to torture each other." Irritation flooded her. His irritation. "I torture you by not giving in, I offer a solution to that."
"Your solution is irrelevant."
She reeled in that anger, glared down the fallen god. In a way, they had both fallen. "Remember what we did to that ghost? You had fun, you enjoyed seeing your power as it was made to be--destructive. A ruination of life. Imagine what we could do together."
Etin's figure melted into the storm, like a dandelion's buds in the wind. He said nothing, but Norah knew he was still there. Watching. Circling.
"I will consider your offer," he said at last, his voice clear and crisp and booming. The voice of a god. "But for now..."
The ground crumbled beneath her and she fell into the storm.