Page 55 of Sugar & Sorcery
Still nothing.
Why wasn’t this damned broom working?
“She thinks she’s a witch?” one of them sneered, dragging claws across the alley wall, the screech making my skin crawl.
“Come on, broom! Do something!” I shouted, shaking it frantically.
Of course, Arawn hadn’t left me any blasted instruction manual! For all I knew, it was just… a normal broom.
The nearest sorcerer reached for me. His twisted fingers stretched with a bone-cracking snap. His skin split like cracked porcelain, his arm warping, writhing, eyes glowing yellow, sprouting across his flesh.
The pressure of his magic coiled around me like invisible claws. A brutal tug yanked me forward. My heart thundered. Arawn had said something, hadn’t he? Always phrase commands positively. I drew in a sharp breath.
“I order you to fly and get us out of here alive!”
The broom shot forward. I was yanked skyward, nearly thrown off. I clung on, straddling the broom and shrieking in panic as it zigzagged through the market, barely dodging the masked sorcerers.
“BUT STABILIZE!” I screamed.
I tore through the air above the stalls, skimming rooftops under the astonished stares of merchants and buyers. Some gaped at my disastrous flying. Others, at my curse. Others still, at the three sorcerers pursuing me like liquid shadows.
But they weren’t the only threat. To my left, an entire cliffside of the mountain crumbled, sealing a cavern from which creatures poured, tearing through everything in their path.
“Cursed… here? What on earth happened?”
The broom shuddered beneath my hesitation. I tugged on it, trying to climb higher.
“Looks like you just can’t help getting into trouble.” Arawn’s voice cut straight through my panic. He flew beside me, antlers on his back, his cloak transformed into gray wings of mist.
“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME! I CAN’T CONTROL THIS THING!”
He cast me a mock-thoughtful look. “You’re doing wonderfully. As long as you don’t start doubting yourself, you won’t plummet to your certain death.”
I blinked. “WHAT?”
But he was already dropping away, twisting midair before diving straight toward the three sorcerers below.
“No, no, no! Arawn, get back here!”
I yanked too hard on the handle. CRACK.The broom slammed against the top of a stall, and the shaft snapped clean. It spun out of control, and I was kneaded like bread dough, my heart hammering against my ribs as I rose higher and higher.
I glanced back. Arawn was fighting the sorcerers, a storm of ash and sand swirling around him, swallowing almost the entire market.
“He’s going to reduce everything to rubble!” I cursed, stamping my foot against what was left of the handle. “Come on, broom, we need to go back down there!”
But of course, it didn’t listen. The handle jerked violently, then flipped… upside down. I fell.
Air howled past my ears, the ground rushing up to meet me. I stretched out my hands in desperation to grab the broom, but it too was plummeting—just as useless as I was.
What a pitiful way to die!
The wind whipped my face. I shut my eyes, bracing for the crash. And then?—
Arms.
A sudden embrace. A dull impact, not against the hard earth, but against something alive. The air stopped roaring around me.My breath left me in a sharp gasp as I realized I was no longer falling.
I opened my eyes. Arawn was holding me tight, one hand anchored at the small of my back, the other supporting my legs. His mask had been carried off by the wind. My cheek brushed the fabric of his dark tunic, and despite myself, my body instinctively pressed closer. His chest was solid beneath my clenched fingers, and every beat of his wings sliced through the air with effortless grace, as if the chaos beneath us were nothing but a mild inconvenience.
