Page 117 of Unraveled
I didn’t know what he meant by hybrid or strix, but I knew he was a man capable of murdering an innocent for some reason. And no matter what that reason was, it wasn’t good enough for me.
I glared at him as he finished the spell, and his magic wrapped over my own, dulling it so much I could barely feel it. “I don’t know what the strixes are, Papa, and I don’t know of the supposed prophecy...”
He seems conflicted as a spell swirled around his hand. The wisps of white reached for my head. I pushed against the chair’s backrest, and the legs scraped on the floor as I watched the approaching enchantment with horror.
Even with my power nearly gone, I could feel the spell’s intent. It wanted me to forget this ever happened.
“You know what I’m doing, don’t you? You understand what this spell is going to do?” His expression turned to one of regret. “This is why I must do this, pumpkin. You’re a sunderer. Someone who possesses the gift of understanding and unraveling any spell. The prophecy speaks of a hybrid who can unmake the curse, and your mother and I believe that’s you.”
The spell wrapped around my head, and my thoughts blurred.
My father pulled a note from his trouser pocket and slammed it on the table in front of me. “Mia, you’ve unmade spells crafted by your mother in this house without knowing it.You speak of magical things like they have emotions. You are a sunderer of sorcery, and the strix will kill you first and ask questions later.”
The green ink of my mother’s sprawling calligraphy stood out against yellow parchment, and as I read on, something sank deep within me.
Black feathers will rain from the sky, leaving pools of poisoned ink over the land. From the darkness, a beast will appear, with sharp teeth and magic that brings death to us all.
The curse of mirrors will ravage the land for forty blood moons and at last,
A hybrid bound to the Fae King, will rise as fate demands.
Brought by destiny to break the chains that hold his realm in thrall,
The Sunderer shall bring death to those who caused his fall.
And death will be her constant friend, by shadowed hand and breath
As she walks beside him, through the dark, unyielding path.
I met my father’s dark gaze, He turned away, grabbing the prophecy and tossing the parchment into the flames of the woodstove by our side.
My vision narrowed and nausea grew within me.
I remember waking in the middle of the night, calling for mother while those words spilled from my mouth.
“She always told me it was a dream,” I said. Yet her face always turned ashen.
My father’s spell blurred my thoughts a little more.
“Your mother risks facing the gods’ ire if she doesn’t record the prophecy. She’s heard it from you time and time again and we can’t simply ignore it anymore. She must leave soon, andtake it to the ministers of sorcery. The house of strix will find out soon enough you exist, they have people everywhere.”
“It was just a dream.”
“No, Pumpkin. Your power is too unique to be a coincidence.”
“I’m not a soothsayer.”
I was angry... But I couldn’t remember why.
My father looked at me as he sat and reached for his cup of coffee, giving me a trembling smile.
“
You’re not, but he is.”
Sad . . . Though I didn’t understand why.
“Papa?” I blinked, turning around to take in the kitchen table. I was so cold, even though the warm summer air wrapped around me.
