Page 90 of Wicked Thieves
“I’ll stay with her, Anya,” Gabriel reassured as he placed a hand on Enid’s shoulder.
Anelize hesitated but nodded as Henry called her name, urging her to step forward. As eager to end all of this as she was, no doubt; if not more so.
The book was laying wide open upon a stone pillar, its pages covered in splatters of blood and runes much like the one’s she’d seen in the Weaver’s cottage. A coaxing voice, that was neither man nor woman nor child, but an amalgamation of all, whispered,“I’m here, I’m here! Come closer!”
Anelize felt drawn to it as she stepped up the short steps and onto the platform. Staring at the strange markings that had been made in blood that appeared far older than the ones splattered upon the pages.
“This was how the Weaver made her book. Sacrificing the blood of her people to create her darkmagic.”Henry practically spat the word out as she came up to join him. A small hopeful smile graced his lips as he looked to Anelize. “None will ever achieve power the way we will. Such is the order of things. Now we can end this façade, once and for all. Now it will be over.”
“Finally.” Gabriel sighed.
Anelize glanced over her shoulder at his unusual tone. And watched as he pulled out a dagger from his belt, and in passing, ran the sharp edge across Enid’s throat.
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Asudden rush of blood poured from Enid’s throat, her trembling hands reaching up to the vicious slash as she stared at Anelize wide-eyed before her legs grew weak and she fell to the ground. Anelize screamed in horror like she never had before.
“Enid!” She made to run down the steps. Only to feel a sharp unending pain lance through her side. Anelize gingerly glanced down to where she saw a knife protruding from her abdomen. Watching as it was pulled out, only to be thrust back in once more, stealing the air from her lungs.
“I’m sorry, Anya,” Henry murmured into her ear. “But it had to be done.”
“Henry?” she slowly turned her head to look at the man who had been like a father to her and Enid, to all of them, as he stared at her with solemn eyes full of tears.
Henry pulled the dagger out from her side, sending her tumbling down the steps. She crashed to the ground, groaning in pain as she forced herself to look up. A wrenching sob of rage spilled past her lips as her eyes found Enid’s across the chamber. All while Enid struggled to breathe through the gash across her throat.
“No, no, no!” Anelize groaned as she used her hands to drag herself across the ground to her, leaving behind a trail of blood as warmth seeped through the front of her shirt. Her handsgripped Enid’s arms as she hauled herself to her. “Enid…Enid…”
Enid’s hands were covered in blood, still gripping her throat as she struggled to breathe. She couldn’t breathe, she was drowning in her own blood, and she couldn’tbreathe.
“I think that’s enough, Gabriel,” she heard Henry say behind her through her unending panic.
The sound of footsteps approaching them made Anelize release a snarl at the man who did this to her sister as he approached them. “Get away from her!”
“Gabriel is a skilled healer, Anya,” Henry said as though she were nothing more than a stupid child throwing a tantrum. When she glanced over her shoulder, Henry was sitting upon the steps, eyeing the blood—her blood—on his dagger with fascination. “If you care for your sister, you will let him heal her.”
Anelize’s eyes were frantic as they looked between the two men—one of whom she had trusted with her life—and to her sister, who was slowly dying in her arms.
When she didn’t say anything to him, Gabriel didn’t look at either of them as he dropped to his knees and conjured. His hands hovering over Enid’s wound. His face unfeeling.
Henry then said, “Just enough to keep her alive, Gabriel. We may need more.”
Gabriel nodded, then seemingly slowed his conjuring as he stitched Enid’s throat closed, barely enough to heal her wound properly. She was losing too much blood. It wastoo much.
Her brown eyes stared up at the ceiling, the light within them slowly fading.
Placing her hand upon Enid’s, she sensed for her heart. Willed it to keep beating as she found that soft,fluttering glow that reminded her of a butterfly seeking flowers to rest upon. After what she’d done to save Aeric, Adan had said she was capable of returning life. If that was the case, she would do it. She just needed time. The wounds on her side were unbearable, and conjuring only seemed to make it worse as more blood poured over the ground, coating her clothes. She didn’t care.
Before she could, she felt hands dig into the back of her hair and yank her away from Enid. Sending her onto her back, the searing pain on her side making her cry out. When she looked up, she found Henry looming over her. A look she had never seen on his face before sending a chill down her entire body.
“Why…why would you do this?” She struggled to sit up, bracing a hand over her side. Sending a hateful glare at Henry, she demanded, “We trusted you.Why?”
Henry snapped, “Why do you think? Is it not obvious to you by now, child? Are you truly that daft after hiding yourself away all these years? That you and your sister are quite possibly Samca’s last surviving relatives. Her directbloodline.”
Samca. That name, though she’d never heard it before, rang in her mind. An incessant bell pounding in her head. Forcing her to listen. A memory, a whisper, a gentle caress. All of them sounding off, circling that one name. It was there within her grasp, yet too difficult to place.
Relatives.
Bloodline…
