Page 100 of Of Shadows and Death

“She is here,” says one of the witches.

As soon as she says the words, I spot Airalin walking through the field with hands held out by her side. Everything she touches as she moves lights on fire. One of the witches raises her hand, dousing the fire in water. Airalin lets out a growl. The sound is amplified, and we can hear it, even from here.

I grit my teeth in determination. We knew she was coming. At least she had the decency to wait until our wedding was done.

She rushes toward us, stopping within a few feet of where we stand. “Rapunzel. Married and didn’t even tell your mother? I raised you better than that.”

I spit at her feet. “You aren’t my mother, Airalin, and neither did you raise me.”

Dreselda rushes to my side, Jeremiah on her heels. “You dare call yourself a mother, Airalin? You should be ashamed of yourself. All those times I let you in my home?” She spits on the ground at Airalin’s feet. “You are trash.”

My vampires clash with the rebels, metal clanging against metal, and cries fill the air. I ignore them as best I can, trying not to worry about my vampire friends, to focus on Airalin. I urge Dreselda and Jeremiah to retreat to safety, but they stand their ground, faces fierce.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Airalin. “You said you would leave me alone.”

Airalin scoffs. “I changed my mind. Your amplifying magic is too great to give up. You are mine.”

“I will never be yours.”

A fire rope shoots out of her hand toward me, singeing my arm. I cry out in pain while one of the witches drenches us in water.

Dreselda steps forward and lands a slap on Airalin’s face. In retaliation, Airalin whips a fire rope out toward her. I scream as my heart thunders, unable to help my birth mother, but one of the witches conjures a rock shield to protect her.

Dreselda falls to the ground. “Get her out of here!” I scream to Jeremiah. Frantically, he pulls her out of the dirt.

“This is my fight, witches. Leave us,” says Airalin, her voice scathing.

In response, one of the vampire witches snaps her fingers, and fire blooms at Airalin’s feet. She yelps and jumps back.

I start to panic. I have no magic. No special abilities. Nothing. I put my hand in my dress pocket and pull out my athame, the only weapon I have. The vampire witches put their hands on my shoulders and begin muttering a chant.

Airalin’s eyebrows draw together, staring at us. With a roar, she rushes forward, tackling me. I hold out my dagger too late. I feel a sharp pain in my heart, and look down to see a knife sticking out of it. My eyes widen and I stare at Airalin. “How could you?” I say, my voice weakening by the second.

“If I can’t have your power, no one can,” she says with a sneer, standing up and brushing the dirt off her dress.

I wheeze, then before I can move, everything goes dark.

Chapter Eighty-Three

I open my eyes, but all I see is darkness, suffocating darkness. The oppressive silence is broken only by the distant sound of water dripping, echoing through the desolate space, and a sniffle. I look down, and the knife is still lodged in my heart. Summoning my strength, I rip it out of me, flinging it to the side in a mixture of anger and defiance. It lands on the ground, red liquid splashing up around it in a macabre dance. Ignoring it, I search for the sniffle.

The hem of my dress turns scarlet, and deep down, I know I walk in blood. Finally, I see a small glimmer of light in the distance and go toward it, a fragile beacon of hope.

I draw nearer. The feeble light revealing a heart-wrenching sight—a small girl, huddled in a vulnerable ball. My heart aches for her, knowing all too well the torment she has endured. I kneel beside her and speak softly, asking, “Are you okay?”

She raises her head, and her pain tugs at my soul. The bruise on her delicate face serves as a bitter reminder of the cruelty she has endured. I grit my teeth, knowing who this is. “She hit me again.”

I open my arms wide, offering solace and security. Without hesitation, the little girl launches herself into my embrace, seeking refuge from the horrors that have plagued her. Gently, I stroke her trembling back. “It’s okay, Penny. You never have to be afraid again.”

“Do you promise?” Her voice quivers, a hint of distrust in it.

“I promise. And I never break my promises.” My voice is firm, unwavering. I stand up and hold out my hand. “Come, let’s leave this darkness behind. We don’t need to be here anymore.”

With a sniffle, she takes my outstretched hand, her tiny fingers intertwining with mine. “Okay.”

I see a bright light in the distance, a promise of hope and healing, and we walk toward it.

Pain, an all-consuming force, engulfs every fiber of my being. Agony reverberates through my veins, tearing at my core. But then, in a miraculous moment, the torment ceases. I open my eyes, the moonlight brighter than I have ever seen it before. I cry out, both in pain and awe.

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