Part 2.8

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There must be a way to control this. There has to be, or I'm set for failure. The anger has subsided, and all I have left is horror and shame. I knew about my fate, and I was prepared to fight it with all I had. But when the time came, I didn't listen to myself. I didn't know myself. I surrendered to it without a second thought.

What was the point of giving myself instructions if I wasn't going to follow them? I knew this moment would come, and I was prepared for it. I'd decided what to do if I felt even the slightest tickle of darkness. Then the moment came, and I threw my own instructions out the window. How could I be so stupid?

Addy says not to beat myself up. Everyone makes mistakes. But this mistake didn't need to happen if I'd just done what I'd said I'd do. How could I trust myself again?

I'm not in a great place right now. I thought I was smart enough, strong enough, for life. I was wrong. I knew, and I did it anyway. What is that but stupidity? What is that but weakness?

But Addy's right, in a way. I have to pull myself together. People are counting on me. And maybe there's another way. There has to be a strategy I can use to shield myself from the First Witch's poison. I have to make myself believe that.

Addy is watching me practice my ice magic. Onyx has taught me how to draw the heat out of energy and cast it aside. This is the cold magic that the Phaedreans specialised in.

Addy watches as the snowflake sprouts from my fingertips. It catches the light, and even the most delicate filigree becomes a blade of ice.

Addy claps with delight. "We should make a snowman. Or have a snowball fight!"

I sigh. "Addy, this is serious training."

Her smile wavers. "I know. I just...thought we could have some fun too."

Oh, frogs. I hate that puppy-dog look. "I do need a break," I relent. "I'll make the snowballs. Hurry though - they don't last forever."

We have a great time, until Onyx appears and a snowball hits him square in the face. Good to see you're taking your training seriously, he says caustically.

He gets another snowball for that. He stands stiffly, tail raised, dripping with melted snow. He is not amused.

The mess dries up before Maya checks in on me. She spent all day recording a new show. She didn't want to alert her fans to what was going on, so it's business as usual for her. The only thing is, she has to shoot on-site at the mansion. There's no way we're letting her out of our sight.

I watched the live stream on my communications monitor while I was taking a break from my ice magic training. Seeing Maya on screen was like seeing a whole different person. She was all bubbles and glitter, not at all the Maya I knew.

She sits before me now, a study in composure. "So you didn't experience anything out of the ordinary."

"No," I lie. "You said 'Phaedra', and then I was in your bed sleeping."

"I see." She cocks her head slightly, then gives the ghost of a smile. "You do look tired, Lily. Would you like some green tea?"

I pause, suspicious. She's up to something. "I'm not thirsty."

"Really? You must be drained after all those spells you've been casting."

It was Addy's questions about the orb. It has to be.

"Relax, Lily. There's no shame in being tired. I'm a bit tired myself." She's not lying. There are bags under her periwinkle eye shadow. "I'm confident you'll get to the bottom of this, Lily. I'm glad the Witch Doctors chose you for the job."

I gulp. She's confident? I'm not.

"There's just one thing I don't understand. The alien could've killed me and ransacked my house for the orb. Why didn't he?"

Because he's Scion, I want to say. A memory comes before me. Phaedra's three moons shine above me. In their light it is easy to see the bruise on Scion's cheek.

"Where did you get that?" I say. I'm the First Witch, but I'm not in any physical form. I'm floating as a cloud of lilac mist.

"I was in battle training," Scion replies, face turned away from me.

Lazarus bends low. "That doesn't look like battle training."

Scion bites his lip. "It was battle training, sir. That's all."

Another memory.

Lazarus's chambers. His body on the floor. Mist seeping from an invisible wound.

"Something's wrong," I cry. "Lazarus! Scion, do something!"

Scion's eyes, blank. Emotionless. "It is already done."

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