Page 18 of A Tale of Treachery

Glendora’s wicked chuckle filtered through the trance of my mind, and I took a deep breath to calm the whirlwind of chaos. Then, my gaze whipped to my friend. “Leave us, Eulalia. We have things to discuss.”

“No, I’m not leaving until we know what she means. You’ve wanted to know what you are for as long as I remember. I want to be here for you when you find out.”

I glared at Glendora.

Don’t.

But she could see my fear, and her eyes glowed with joy.

I swallowed, bracing myself for what would come next.

The truth.

My magic beat and scratched at my skin, but I pushed it down. It railed at being told what to do and seeped from the pores of my skin, burning through my clothes. Burnished gold trailed through the veins of my hands and arms and clawed its way up my neck.

No. Stop, I commanded it.

The old witch cackled. “Oh, she didn’t tell you? I suppose I can see why not. I mean, after all, she is—”

It was too late.

My magic rushed out of me in a violent blast, the tent lighting up in a golden burst of light, enveloping Glendora’s body with fire.

I’d never even lifted my hands, though magic flowed from them.

My magic had taken charge, leaving me with no will or way. My mouth dropped open when Glendora screamed, Eulalia’s screams of terror joining with hers.

I lifted my hands and gaped at them.

“Call it back, Dahlia! Call it back now!” Eulalia shouted, and my eyes met hers, wide with fear.

My head snapped to Glendora, and I raised my hand, withdrawing the golden flames that engulfed her body.

But it was too late to save the seer.

My magic hummed happily on its way back to that pit deep inside of me and purred contentedly.

Horror washed over me at what I’d done. I didn’t mean to.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know…I don’t know why I just did that,” I whispered, more to myself than Eulalia.

Eulalia’s screams for help filled the tent, surely gaining the attention of the witches outside. I was frozen as my vision danced between her and my hands, hands that I didn’t know were capable of something like that. My eyes squeezed shut as I wished to undo what had just happened.

“Eulalia.” I spoke her name repeatedly. A cry. A plea for forgiveness. But she didn’t respond. Her chest heaved, and she stared, ashen faced, at the seer in abject horror.

The old witch was still alive, sputtering and gasping for air, but she wouldn’t live much longer. She’d endured far too much damage.

My lips turned downward, and bile crawled up my throat at the sight of her, at what I had done.

“Your magic is out of control! You’re out of control!” Eulalia’s voice echoed in my ear. “I warned you this would happen, didn’t I? That nothing good comes from suppressed magic!” Her face twisted, filled with fire and spite, her teeth grinding together as if holding back the words that wanted to spill out. Words of anger and loathing.

She looked like she hated me. I couldn’t blame her.

“I’m sorry.” My voice came out soft and low, the words barely intelligible.

Eulalia’s voice broke. “You said you were in control…”

“I thought I was…”

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