"Are you ready, Jocasta?" Koldo's voice felt distant in her ears, like an echo. She turned around, then looked up at him.
"Are you kidding? I'm eager to get this over with," she joked, her voice was shaky; she cleared her throat quietly, trying to steady herself. Jo's momentary bravado was leaving her.
"You are very brave, Jocasta," Koldo unstrapped his staff.
"I'm shitting myself, I had no idea that was something brave people did. They probably leave it out when they tell their heroic tales," she chuckled, nervously. Koldo looked confused, like he wanted to say something. "I'm not really soiling myself. It's a figure of speech. But I wouldn't rule it out just yet, the night is young," she was making terrible jokes and she couldn't stop herself: that's how she knew she was scared out of her wits. Her heart was beating so fast it hurt, she could feel her clammy hands shaking uncontrollably.
"I will take note of that," Koldo chuckled softly-- warm one moment, cold the next. There was no telling with him anymore, he was a very strange man. She looked forward to never having to see him again.
"So, what do I do? Do you need me to split up my wrists? Maybe do a little dance? Recite an incantation backward while you lit candles and sacrifice a kitty? You could be carrying a kitty in those robes, maybe a whole litter of them--" Koldo interrupted her, placing one of his massive hands on her shoulder. She felt embarrassed, she wished she could turn her babble off. It didn't happen often, just when she was incredibly nervous. She remembered when she was fourteen, the first time she'd gone down to that secret distillery under the mill; she made so many bad jokes her friends forced her to drink first just to shut her up. Maybe Koldo would start the ritual soon, just to make her stop. Put her out of her misery, in a way.
Koldo instructed her to stand back to back to the stake, holding her arms up in the air. She felt stupid doing nothing there, the whole thing seemed very anticlimactic -- that was, until he started to wave his wand back and forth, creating ethereal constraints made of what looked like pure light and energy around her wrists, moving forward to tie up her neck, her legs, and waist, immobilizing her completely. A small part of her brain tried to retain control, to avoid succumbing to desperation; she almost failed completely when Koldo willed those constraints to pull her up, slowly, until she reached about the middle of the stake. The runes tingled her back and bare legs, her sandals fell off. She shuddered as she felt her feet starting to get cold. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to focus on not panicking. Maybe that belief about magic and emotions was garbage, maybe a desperate attempt of her mind to ease her anxiety: she wanted to let go, to scream, her body wanted her to try to break free.
She felt a tiny prickle in her right thigh, then another in her left arm; she opened her eyes to watch in horror as every single one of the thin straws forming the nest moved in the air, alive, glowing, and going in her direction. The prickle in her arm turned into blinding pain as the straw made its way deep into her skin, slithering in until it broke her bone, making its way into her marrow. The one in her thigh followed suit. She couldn't think straight with the pain, but she did her best not to scream, she didn't want to worry Alaric. Wyn and Laurentius knew she had a way out: if she screamed in agony, Alaric would assume the worst, he might even turn on Koldo, interrupting the spell. She bit the inside of her cheeks, drawing blood. She didn't even have time to react when the remaining straws made their way into her flesh; she felt them, squirming under her skin, separating flesh and bone to take root into her bones just like the first two. The pain she felt was indescribable, like nothing she'd ever felt before. She screamed so loud she could feel her throat tearing apart.
Soon after, she felt her body go numb; a second later, she could feel everything at once. She was the air, the stones, the trees, bugs, and wisps in the forest. She was everywhere, she could see the currents of magic, like a thin veil that touched everything around it. She could see herself, a mess of blood dangling by thin, blue-lighted tendrils of straw: she was tethered to the tree. Without knowing how, Jo realized she was now one with the Core Silvam. She was alive, she could feel her own pulse through the tendrils-- she couldn't explain how, but she knew that was it. At the same time, she could see Alaric being held back by Laurentius; he wanted to go in, to check why she'd screamed. She saw Wyn, taking a flask from her pocket, putting it under Alaric's nose: he fainted in Laurentius' arms. He was safe, just sedated. She could feel it.
YOU ARE READING
A Forest of Secrets
Fantasy⭐ FEATURED ⭐ 02/16/2018 Longlisted, Wattys 2018 ✅ COMPLETE Jocasta's nineteen years of peaceful existence in a little village of the Kingdom of Ontur blew up in pieces without much warning: Grandmother had a secret, an old pact with a mysterious...