Page 139 of Soul of a Witch

Lurching to my feet in panic, I spun around in confusion, trying to determine where I was. This wasn’t the mine. There were no walls around me, there was no dirt beneath my feet. It was just dark, like it had been when Callum guided me beyond the Veil. The scent of damp dirt and mildew was gone, the stench of rot and seawater had vanished.

“Callum?” My voice didn’t echo. It sounded muffled, as if I was surrounded by an invisible buffer that swallowed my words the moment they left my lips. “Callum!”

With a sudden gasp, I clutched my chest as searing pain seized me. When I dared to look down, there was a growing red stain on my shirt. Blood covered my palm when I pulled it away from my side, revealing a gaping wound ripped deep into my flesh.

But I still felt strange — detached, like a balloon cut loose from its string. My body was injured. I was still alive enough to feel the pain; but I was beyond the Veil, my soul ripped loose from my body.

I sat, cross-legged on the floor, and closed my eyes. Envisioning the cavern I had stood in, I reached for the familiar warmth and weight of my body…but I couldn’t find it.

My breath came faster. Was I bleeding out? Was my body dying? Callum was alone against the God, and if he…

If he died…

No, no. I couldn’t think of that. I couldn’t consider the possibility of the Deep One consuming him, severing our bond.

It wasn’t too late. That was the only hope I could cling to. I was alive, I could move, I could feel my magic still close at hand.

I needed to find a way back to my body.

Getting to my feet, I started walking. I held my intentions firmly in my mind: return to the mine, return to my body. Find Callum.

I had to find Callum.

My sense of time was warped. Only seconds may have passed, but it felt like hours of darkness. Hours of walking without any visible progress.

My heartbeat was growing weaker, my breathing more labored.

With growing horror, I realized I could feel myself dying.

Then, I became aware of vague shapes moving around me. Swaying, like long stalks of kelp in a gentle ocean current. There was dampness on my skin, and the air was cool. There were no stars overhead, there was no whisper of a breeze. It was so eerily silent.

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I looked down to see the silvery thread dangling from my chest. It wound away from me through the strange grass, disappearing into the darkness. With no other choice, I followed it.

With every step I took, my heartbeat grew weaker. It became increasingly difficult to remember what I was doing, why I was doing it, who I was looking for.

Who was I looking for?

I stopped.

There were faint lights around me, glittering gold as they floated in the darkness like dozens of fireflies. The scent here was so familiar. Patchouli and vanilla, freshly ground coffee.

“Mama?” My voice was so tired, so small. Like I was a tiny child again, lost in the dark. “Are you there? Please…” I stumbled, falling to my hands and knees. The ground was damp beneath my palms, and I realized I was kneeling beside a small, very still pool.

It was one of dozens. Glass-like pools dotted the landscape, partially hidden by the swaying grass. The glittering lights were reflected in them, and I leaned forward, peering into the water.

“I don’t know what to do,” I choked out. “I’m so lost.” Tears dripped into the pool, sending ripples cascading across the pristine surface. “I’m not strong enough, Mama.”

There was a sensation like a hand resting gently on my shoulder, and I looked back in alarm. But I was still alone. Turning back to the water, I stared at my own reflection, but I barely recognized myself. I looked faint and hazy, a mere ghost in the fog.

“Show me what I have to do,” I whispered desperately. “Show me the way.”

My reflection disappeared. The water grew dark, shadows swirling beneath the surface like slithering eels. A vision appeared within the water, and at first, I had no idea what I was looking at. Grotesque writhing flesh, numerous blinking eyes, a gaping maw. My stomach lurched as I realized I was looking at the God. It had someone in Its tentacles, flailing and screaming.

“Raelynn!” I gasped, as the small woman struggled to free herself from the Deep One’s hold. Suddenly, she lifted her hand, a dagger clutched in her fingers. The blade shimmered with familiar magic; the design of the weapon was different, but it carried the same enchantment as the one I’d created. Raelynn plunged the knife down, spearing one of the God’s numerous eyes. She swung back, and stabbed the knife down again, ripping it deeply into the tentacle that gripped her.

The God loosened Its hold, and she squirmed free. But her lips were turning blue from lack of air.

The vision faded.

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