Invisible String - Sebastian Sallow

Chapter Fifteen: In the Shadow of Power

He was silent.

His brown eyes were a mess of emotions. Confusion and desperation were at the forefront, a deep sadness filling up the pools of chocolate, along with something I couldn't place.

It was probably disgust.

How could he not be? We'd parted ways because we were toxic for each other. I'd allowed him to pursue what I knew was a futile path down the Dark Arts and excused and defended his actions in killing his uncle Solomon. He'd pushed me to follow through on finding out just what my ancient magic was capable of, and though I'd agreed we should part ways - Merlin, I'd been the one to suggest it - I never told him I'd been seconds from being consumed by darkness. 

He'd been full of enough regret about his uncle. I didn't want him to put my actions on himself, too. 

I never was very good at reading him, and right now, I needed to know. I needed to understand his mind. 

"Sebastian?" It was a whisper.

"Let me think, please." He looked away from me and paced rapidly again. 

His words were not sharp, they were not judgmental. No, rather his words were simply that. Words. Clearly a place holder for a thought that was taking time to form. A brain working to understand the information dumped on it, and respond appropriately.

I was still sitting amongst the crumbling ruin of Isadora's chamber, my boots covered thickly by dust, the small embroidered details painstakingly adorned to them by the cobbler lost to the grey substance. I stared hard at the ground, nerves on edge, refusing to look at him. I didn't want to see the moment he decided he was disgusted by me.

This place was suffocating.

I was suffocating.

The hum of my ancient magic was intense, thumping ever still loudly through my body as we were close to the source, though indeed quieter than when we were down next to the Repository itself.

I had to get out of here.

My skin was on fire, and the longer I sat here, the less sure I could be that I wouldn't run back down there and lose myself to the magic Isadora had left for me.

I wanted to.

I wanted to lose myself to my power, use it for the good that Isadora had set out to start. I could make the difference I was destined to if I just let it consume me. I could properly  heal Anne of that awful curse Victor Rookwood had put on her, and kill each and every poacher out there in the world. We didn't need to know the torment of this world and I was the key to ending it.  

I didn't want to.

I didn't want to lose myself. Sebastian was right, my magic was delicate and warm, dancing through my veins to be used as I saw fit. The magic that Isadora had cultivated- had stolen - was dark and twisted, the small amount of it I had taken planting just a bit of ice in my veins that screamed forward any time I was near ancient magic. It was a power that felt so good, but so wrong and I didn't want to let it take me. 

"Look," I said, standing abruptly. Sebastian looked to me, his expression startled.  "We still have things to talk about but I don't want to be in here anymore. I can't be in here anymore. Can we go to our cove at least?"

"Our cove?" He said, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips. My face reddened, and I stared at the ground like I wanted it to swallow me whole.

"Shut up."

He stepped over to me, taking my hand in his. With what I refused to hope was a reassuring squeeze, he turned on his heel and guided us from Isadora's chamber. I allowed him to guide me, taking no effort on my end to so much as lift my head. I stared at our feet while I walked, my mind still going a thousand miles a minute, the magic still pounding through my veins, still ringing in my ears.