Page 55 of Fallen Angel

“Once the deed is done, he shall be as free as a bird.” She cleared her throat and returned to her insufferable diatribe. “As I was saying…because my magic is so powerful, despite Callan’s spell, I was awake for three hundred and twenty-six years.”

Shocked, Hannah saw the fury behind Mara’s flaming eyes. These past few days had felt like a lifetime to Hannah. She couldn’t imagine being trapped in stone, fully conscious, for over three hundred years. It was too devastating to fathom.

“I was paralyzed and embedded in stone, but my brain was very much awake. Sensing my book above was like a feather tickling the sole of my foot. I couldn’t reach it to scratch. Torturous wouldn’t even begin to describe it. I should never wish such a thing upon anyone—and I thrive on spreading evil.” Mara cackled to herself. “After years of thinking spells that I could never say, I had resigned myself to die, hoping sheer will would make my mind go blank. But it was never so.” Mara gazed down at Hannah. “So, let us say, I am grateful my spell did not work. If it were not for you, then I would still be trapped in these walls.”

A massive wave of guilt crashed over Hannah. If it weren’t for her magic, her parents would still be alive, and she never would have awakened the greatest evil there ever was. Then again, she never would have met Callan. And though she seemed to be causing him pain, she was selfishly happy that she was able to meet him before she possibly died in a matter of days.

Mara looked back at Callan and shot him a warning glare. “Know that if you ever cast that spell again, you are dooming your precious Hannah to an eternity of endless torture. A fate far worse than death.” She settled on a page in her grimoire and ran her fingers over the crinkled sheet. “Ah, here it is.” She took a deep breath in through her nose and released a long, satisfied exhale. “Shall we begin?”

Hannah’s heart thudded against her chest so hard that she feared it might leave a bruise. She took slow, deep breaths while touching each of her fingertips to her thumbs. She heard Callan’s muffled cries behind her and did her best to ignore him. She hoped that his hurt would eventually turn to understanding. It was too late to turn back now.

Mara raised her arms as if she was a preacher.

“The witch before me hath come to surrender.

What once was day, now yearns for night’s splendor.

She vows to serve black magic’s will,

In exchange for the gift of one dark skill.

Let her words sing to her victim’s soul,

And their every move be under her control.

Awaken her magic to the shadow’s dark force,

And through her veins, let power course.

Her compass now points only toward sin,

Re-born a Siren, let her service begin.”

Mara’s dark magic oozed from her body like black liquid vines crawling up her skin, sprouting in every direction. Mara seemed intoxicated—crazed—by spreading her black magic. Her hair floated in every direction as she inhaled the fear that roared from her magic. It was clear, however, that the difficult spell was taking a toll on Mara. Veins bulged from her neck and her limbs tensed as if she was carrying a heavy weight.

Mara took a deep breath and added one last Latin phrase: “Vos malum.” The spell surged Mara’s fluid black tendrils forward, and they pierced Hannah’s body.

Hannah gasped in pain as the dark magic consumed her. Anxiety that didn’t belong to her and the terror that wailed through Mara’s smoke scraped against her skin. She couldn’t focus on anything but her white magic being devoured by the dark force that impaled her. It washed over her organs and suffocated her pores. Her lungs were like cement, breathing impossible. She was drowning once again; this time by an evil force.

Her magic screamed for help. She felt as if she was being torn apart from the inside out. Tears filled her eyes. The skewering tendrils of smoke lifted her into the air. Hannah was dying. She was sure of it. Mara must have broken her promise. She screamed, barely any sound coming from her mouth.

Her chest tightened as if all her fear and pain had gathered there. But then, it released, floated out of her body, and dissolved into Mara’s wisping smoke. Their cries softened, no longer grating against Hannah’s ears.

A calming song echoed in her head, interrupting Hannah’s torture, soothing her. It sounded like the purest, most beautiful note ever sung. Hannah felt as though she were in the ocean, floating through clear blue water, its tranquil touch alleviating her pain. She felt calm and empowered. Was this what the Siren gift felt like? Calming? Seductive? She embraced the stillness.

Hannah looked down at her body, still floating in the air, and rather than feeling her magic trapped in a cage deep within her, she felt it release and swim through every limb. A warm, white glow hovered over her skin, and finally, she felt whole. She sighed.

The white glow of Hannah’s magic intertwined with the shadowy vines. It darkened to smoke.

She was overcome with a sense of guilt and regret. The black magic smothered all sense of hope and light. She did it for Callan and for Raven. If she could hold on to the reason for her sacrifice, perhaps that was all the hope she needed.

Hannah lowered to the ground as the spell’s magic seeped from her body and flowed back into Mara’s hands. She balanced herself, her shoes settling against the stone floor. She closed her eyes. Surprisingly, she was still the same old Hannah, but with one significant shift. She no longer felt as though the unknown magic within her was out of control. Now, it had completely dissolved into her blood, and they were one connected entity. The only question now, was how would it feel to use? Would she scourge the earth with evil? Or was Hannah’s magic still innately good?

What was good?

She could no longer be sure.

Chapter Seventeen

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