Page 45 of Fallen Angel

“You defeated her before.”

Callan looked at Hannah as if he were missing something.

“Imprisoning her in stone for all those years.”

“And all other magic, including myself. That spell nearly killed me, Hannah. I was not strong enough for it.” He paced, his knuckles whitening against his fists.

“Then how did you pull it off?”

“I was empowered by rage and so overburdened by guilt that I did not care if the spelldidkill me. I had nothing to lose.” He raised his chin.

“I think you’re more powerful than you know.” Hannah smirked at Callan, who shook his head in denial.

“The only way I foresee us defeating her,” he continued, “is by tricking her. Getting her alone. Earning her trust. And when she lowers her guard, I strike.”

“Strike? Like what? Hit her over the head with a tree branch? Stab her with the scissors in my bag?”

“Scissors would not be sufficient.”

“You don’t think she’d see an attack like that coming? If she casted a protection spell on her grimoire, I’m sure she would cast one on herself.”

“Well, I cannot come up with superior options.” His voice raised in frustration. “Can you?”

The grimoire nestled against the forest floor, unscathed by their attempts to destroy it. “Maybe there is something in there that can help me access my magic. You said it yourself. Raven was a magical prodigy, which means her magic—my magic—might be the best option we have at defeating her.”

“’Tis too risky,” Callan said. “Raven studied how to use magic for the entirety of her life. She then had two years more of practicing her magic once she converged. Even then, she could not defeat Mara.”

Hannah felt unsettled by Callan’s words—his confirmation that she would never be as good as Raven. He was right. Raven was much more skilled than she would ever be. But in her dream of burning at the stake, Raven never put up a fight. If she had such strong magic within her, why didn’t she use it?

“Furthermore,” Callan continued, “the only spells you shall find in that book, which would connect you to your magic, are ones that do not end well.”

“What do you mean?”

“You may end up like me, or some other creature destined for darkness.”

“You’re not destined for darkness.” Hannah placed one hand on the side of his face. Although she knew she shouldn’t, not comforting him at all felt cold. “Look at all you’ve done. If anything, you bring hope to every one of Mara’s victims.” She found herself getting lost in Callan’s green eyes. She stepped away. “The fact that you broke out from under her control proves that you are strong, and you are good.” Hannah’s gaze shifted. Brown and white mushrooms clustered around a fallen tree, bland in comparison to Callan’s enchanting green eyes.

He, however, looked straight at her. “Thank you,” he said.

Hannah cleared her throat. “So you think the best way to beat her is to regain her trust?”

“I do have two things that would make my story plausible.”

Hannah already knew the two things he was referring to. He had the grimoire and he had her.

“I shall claim that the grimoire brought me back to darkness—that if I desired to regain favor with her, I would have to bring her something special. Who better than Raven reincarnate?”

“And what if she tries to compel you again? I won’t be able to snap you out of it.”

“I broke that bond. Unless I voluntarily submit to it, she shan’t have that power over me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know the consequences of yielding to her power. I shan’t allow myself to do that again.”

Hannah searched for another option, but they’d already been at this for hours. “And what if she kills me?” Mara hadn’t hesitated to kill Raven. What was to stop her from murdering Hannah the moment Callan offered her up?

Callan arrived at her side and went to take her hand. When Hannah rolled her fingers into a fist, he simply offered her a gentle touch on the shoulder. “I shan’t let that happen. I promise you.”

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