Page 44 of Possession

They did it before.

It won’t happen again. He says it matters-of-fact, so certain and with enough danger that I don’t dare question him. We could go back to them. They were the ones to alter the amulet and may have an idea to stop your disappearances.

We can’t trust them. They know how to override your mind reading.

Troubled, Aris doesn’t respond, and his apprehension rises at my next thought. I can tell he doesn’t want me to voice it, for whatever reason, but I have to.

Aris, if you can’t yield magic, why don’t you find the person who can, the one you stole it from? Surely, they can help us break the amulet’s enchantment.

I twitch a little at my own statement. I’ve been saying “us” a lot and am not sure how to feel about it.

My purpose used to be keeping Aris locked inside me. Now, despite everything, he can get out. He can take control whenever he wants and, as he demonstrated at the gala, kill a hundred people without lifting a finger. It’s too late for my purpose, but now… I don’t know. Maybe I can minimize the casualties.

That is not an option, Aris says sharply, reminding me of my question.

Why not?

Do not question me!

His shout is deafening, and I instantly try to cover my ears, eyes squinting as I work through the sensory overload rattling me so greatly that my nose has started to burn and leak. I hear him now, talking, but the words are faint, in the background.

It’s like his shout was a weight thrown in a pool, creating a tsunami, and he’s now attempting to smooth the disruption by skipping rocks. It isn’t working.

He needs to stop talking. Please stop talking.

My breathing is heavy, like pants, and my stomach starts to hurt from the exertion. But the pain is a blessing. It’s a distraction, a lifeline out of the screeching in my head. I start shuffling, leaning forward in a desperate attempt to worsen the pain in my core, needing to override my headache.

Suddenly, blessedly, the echo stops. I collapse back with a huff, body now overwhelmed with pain from my wound. My hand snakes under the covers to find it, and I press down lightly on the bandage to find that it’s wet and sticky now. Hopefully, I didn’t pull a stitch. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent the nurse away.

We don’t talk for at least a minute. It isn’t out of spite; I’m working on getting my breathing in order. It’s a while until the pain goes back to the uncomfortable thrum it was at before.

I hear you loud and clear. No inviting the magic maker. I shakily wipe under my nose, finding blood on my fingers. This has never happened before—he’s never reacted so strongly.

There’s a pause, some uncertainty on his part and my own. Will he explain himself? What will he say?

But, of course, Aris just plows forward. The first option is to return to the Following, he says. The next option would be to leave on our own.

Leave on our own… I mull over this while absentmindedly stroking my bandage.

It isn’t what I expected him to suggest, nor is it something I’ve considered. Before all of this, I was going to try to be a vet. That was my plan. And then Aris came, I was stuck, and I didn’t think I could leave the mages. The only time I dared hope for freedom was when the Grand Mage offered what he did.

When we left to go to the Following, it didn’t feel like my choice mattered. Everything was on their schedule, engineered to suit their wants and needs: I wore clothes that they liked, ate the food that they prepared, slept in a room that they furnished for me. And none of it was really for me anyway; it was for Aris.

Now, all of a sudden, I’m free. Actually free. I can do whatever I want. Go wherever. Be whatever. Money doesn’t matter—Aris can make it. Transportation is irrelevant—Aris can take us there. Of course, there are a great many things that we can’t do. We can’t be seen by people, can’t be followed, and we’d have to be on our own, but that’s how it already is, isn’t it?

What if we went where no one could find us? I ask. Maybe we could go somewhere remote, like the middle of the woods in Canada?

Aris doesn’t immediately shoot me down, but he isn’t convinced. And what would we do?

Whatever we want. Of course, no murder or anything like that. But anything else.

He sighs; I can tell that I’m losing him.

We would be away from everyone, I add quickly. It would just be you and me, and we would be free.

Just you and me, he repeats thoughtfully.

We could find a piece of land where no one would bother us. You could make a house for us—you can do that, right?

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