A branch burst from the ground and pressed Marianne tightly against the walls of the cottage. A piercing shriek came from Marianne's lips. Aurelie covered her ears with her palms, inclined to fall, and quiver in the corner.
She should have damn well left as soon as she planted that seed! Jermyn had warned her about the woman's magic. She even fought with him to stay away from this mess, and here she was, in the middle of it!
"The seed. Brilliant!" Marianne said. She starred at Jermyn and bit down on her bottom lip.
"Remove the curse, Marianne. I'm not here to play your games."
"But play you will!" Marianne pressed her hands together and started chanting, "Idrio iferna."
A fire started at the tip of his stump and grew larger, spreading throughout his body.
"You know why, Jermyn?" She cocked her head, waiting for an answer, with her ear turned to him. "Because I feel like making you dance."
Jermyn's branches retracted with hesitation. His face was strained, fighting to keep her in place. Aurelie saw the exact moment he gave in to the pain, his whole body sunk as if it had been entirely emptied of air. Aurelie scrambled around the cabin, looking for something that could help him. There was nothing but herbs lying around and the water in the pot was boiling. That would only harm him more.
Marianne looked into his hollow eyes. She pressed her hands together and gave out a loud, sharp cackle. "Iferna," she growled.
The sound resonated through Aurelie's bones like an earthquake. She took a quick breath, feeling squeamish, and dizzy with fear.
Jermyn took a shaky step forward and collapsed right as his foot landed. He clamped his mouth shut so tightly that the wood chipped around his mouth. His hand swung out. A branch burst out of the ground right beside Marianne. It swung.
Marianne stepped backward. Her foot did settle on the ground, but rather, found some sort of footing in midair. She took two more steps backward, hovering above the ground like a large flimsy bird. Jermyn's branch missed her by an inch, sunk into the ground, and came up with an explosion of rocks and earth behind her again.
Marianna made a stiff fist with her right hand. The branch jerked from side to side in small, rickety movements.
"And what will you do now?" she asked him.
Aurelie's head moved from Marianne to Jermyn. He moaned. It was hard for him to speak, but he tried his hardest. "Remove . . . the curse."
The ground beneath the twitching branch cracked and bulged. Deep roots grew outward, filling the space, and crawling onto the earth. Aurelie had to jump away to keep one of the growing roots from pushing her off balance. The branch tilted downward as if something had been pulling it. Then, still jerking, it swung to the side and knocked into Marianne's ankles.
Aurelie heard a crack of bone as Marianne fell.
The witch hissed, still smiling but with a tense expression. She tried to keep her composure, but Jermyn's persistence clearly surprised her.
Jermyn had a second to spare while she got back on her feet. The fire dimmed slightly, but still clung to his darkened bark.
The branch thickened and started to swing violently from side to side. Jermyn was losing control again. It neared the house, missing it with an inch, and then swung back, knocking into the frame of the window, and slashing right through the wall. Stones flew out in Aurelie's direction. She lifted her hands above her head, and cowered, feeling them drop on the ground all around her. A sharp piece passed her ankle before settling on her right. It split her skin.
At the sight of blood, Aurelie felt her arms growing hot. The clear light of day turned crimson. She felt the itch of courage tickle her chest.
The fallen stones from the wall rose from the ground and floated in the air. With a flick of Marianne's hand, they flew at Jermyn, knocking him down on his side.
The heat warmed Aurelie's face. She ran for Jermyn. With no magic at her disposal, there was little else she could do other than hope to God that Marianne believed the King wanted Aurelie back unharmed.
Marianne's eyes were locked on Jermyn. "Why do you make me do this?" She walked around him and scolded, as though she were talking to a small child. Aurelie felt invisible to the witch.
One of Jermyn's charred branches lay on the ground. It was broken into the shape of a rough stake. Aurelie glanced away from the stake. No killing. You're not a killer. It has to be something else.
Marianne dropped down near Jermyn. Her shoulder knocked into Aurelie's back and pushed her slightly forward. The witch crawled over Jermyn, slinging her foot over his hips. Her veiny hands flattened on his torso and moved with a slow passion over his chest. She stopped them right above his heart.
He did not move. Why did he not move?
Aurelie's heart raced. Everything felt as if it were happening too quickly. Her eyes flickered to the burnt stake.
"Now, I have to do it," she said, leaning closer to him.
His breath was slow. He turned his head away and stared ahead of him into nothingness.
Aurelie picked up the stake. It felt rough and hot in her fingers, and much lighter than she imagined it would be.
A white fire surrounded Marianne's hand. The bark below it turned black and then grey within a matter of seconds. Jermyn's eyes closed tightly.
Aurelie inhaled one quick and wakening breath, lifted her hand, clenching the blade so hard that her skin tore into the sharp edges of the burnt wood. Then, with a quick bash of her hand, Aurelie felt the leathery pop as the stake punctured Marianne's skin. The stake poked out of the soft side of Marianne's neck. Blood filled the pocket above her shoulder blade and poured down in a thin red line down her chest.
Marianne's fingers danced around the stake, touching and lifting over and over as she realized what had happened. Aurelie heard a thick gurgling sound that would not leave her mind for days.
Jermyn opened his eyes. They jumped from Marianne's to Aurelie. He turned slightly to the side, and Marianne rolled onto the ground beside him. Aurelie did not look at her. She could not bear it.
Jermyn was still in flames. His wood was turning pitch-black from his feet up to his neck. Aurelie focused her attention on the fire, trying to control the flames, but something kept her from being able to focus.
Aurelie saw the outline of Marianne's body even when she closed her eyes. She knew exactly how her hands had been spread even though she did not look at her after she fell. She knew that there was a line of blood rolling down her cheek, from her mouth, right at that moment, and could almost hear the sound the drops made when they dripped onto the grass.
She felt bony fingers cling to her arm and opened her eyes with a start. Her hand was clenched around Marianne's mouth, covered in her blood. She did not remember moving to the witch's side or even lifting her hands. Marianne's thin long fingers grabbed onto Aurelie's, encouraging her to . . . What?
"Take it," the witch said, her grey eyes wild. "Take it, my sweet. Go on, now. No reason to let it go to waste."
Jermyn was watching them too.
The blood on Marianne's mouth bubbled. Aurelie's eyes widened. It isn't me. It can't be. Even as her thoughts clouded and rang with doubt, she knew that her magic had found its way through Marianne's body and was tugging at every essence of magic that she had inside her. She tried to pull her hand away, but she couldn't. Worst of all, she didn't want to. The tug felt exhilarating. It ate her fear, swallowed her guilt, and left her in a moment of innocent bliss.
Aurelie felt a quick jerk of heat press into the hand she held over Marianne's mouth. The heat raced up her arm and into her chest, where it burst and filled her from head to toe.
When she looked at the witch again, the spark had faded from her eyes.
Jermyn shifted upright. Aurelie tore her eyes from Marianne for a second to look at him. The fire had gone, whether from the death of the witch or . . . No, it was from the death of the witch. Aurelie felt tears coming. She was scared of herself, terrified.
Jermyn! He had magic too. Aurelie jumped to her feet and stepped back away from him.
"Don't be frightened," he said.
"I'm not the one that ought to be frightened." She looked at Marianne. Her handprint, in blood, on the old, wrinkly face would never leave her mind.
"It's your nature."
"I didn't want to do it," she said. Her voice was shaking, filled with the guilt and feared that had been blissfully repressed for those few seconds. "I swear. I don't even know what happened. I didn't even move . . ."
"You did."
Her head jerked to him. "I did? I don't remember. Jermyn," her eyes filled with hot tears, "how can that be?"
"Your power is new. This is just the start of itâ"
Darkness shone in her eyes. Was this her life now? She wanted to travel the world like the characters in her father's books, but she would have preferred her daydreams to this. In the cabin, it made her happy to be a dragon, but she hardly knew what it meant then, and now... Now, it meant that she was a killer. Worse, a killer who can't control herself.
"I should let him have it." She did not recognize her own voice. It sent chills down her spine. It was dark and empty of hope.
"If we stay here any longer, you might not have a choice in the matter." His eyes looked past her. "Stop the pity, or you'll get us both killed."
Marianne's neighbors had left their houses and stood in the street, at a safe distance, watching them. The faces were white with horror. Horror for what she had done. Aurelie swallowed hard.
"Come on." He nudged her. His bark was healing quickly. The burnt bits were already breaking off. "She deserved it."
A stony crushing sound came from the cabin. Just as Aurelie looked, a couple of stones broke loose and fell to the ground, the rest of the wall bent slightly, bulged some force was blowing its hardest against it from inside. One stone broke off, and then two more, finally, the whole right side tumbled. Half the roof gave way next, sending dust as it slid down and clattered against the rocks.
Marianne's small, lonely cauldron had been boiling inside, above a cluster of ashen wood. It smelled like a stew.
Smells good, Aurelie thought with guilt working its way through her gut.
"Do you want some for the road?" Jermyn caught her staring at the cauldron as if it had cost her a limb.
"It would be practical, wouldn't it?" she said, thinking of the long road ahead and how empty the one she had taken here had been of any fruit trees or wild berries. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of swallowing a fresh batch of stew. "Can't bloody do it with all them staring at me, though."
"They've seen you do worse."
"Well, I may have lost my innocence, but I intend to keep my dignity."
"For now," Jermyn said.
"For now," she repeated and shrugged.
With that, the dragon girl and the tree beast walked side by side into the woods.