The City on the Edge

Thankfully, home wasn’t that far from the Hands of Providence. Like Hazel, the witches of the temple found it easier to stick to the outskirts of the Edge, where there were less patrols of the White Guard. A few of the children lingered out front. Liam and Gage were building some kind of fort from some large rocks while Rama watched from the porch. The twins and Dalton were tucked away inside, safe from the burn of daylight.

The children perked up immediately when they saw Ronnie and Lorna coming up the road. They ran with outstretched arms but stopped short, skidding to an abrupt halt when they saw Sebastian behind Ronnie. The only humans the children had ever seen were guards, so they weren’t quite sure what to make of him. He lingered back a little, a kind smile on his face, sensing their wariness.

Rama, ever the bravest, stomped forward after a moment, a careful eye on Sebastian, and wrapped her arms around Lorna’s waist. “We were so worried that you weren’t coming back. Are you okay? There’s blood all over you.”

Lorna hugged her, leaning down to place a kiss to the crown of her head. “We’re fine. We just got into a scuffle. Is Malik inside?”

Rama nodded. She bit her lip and pulled away. “Anya’s real sick.” Her face scrunched up. “Hazel sent us out here to play. It’s grown up stuff.”

“We’re grown too,” Gage huffed from behind her.

“No we’re not,” Liam argued. He stood next to Ronnie and measured from his head to just over her belt. “We’re still small.”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” Gage grumbled, kicking at the dirt.

“You guys should wait out here, just in case,” Ronnie said, squatting down to look at them. “We need sharp eyes and ears. What if someone comes to the house?”

The children exchanged a look. Liam puffed out his chest. “Yeah, I guess we could do that.”

Ronnie smiled and ruffled his hair. She took a moment to scan his face and neck for signs of spreading blue veins, but he was still clear. The day was coming and they both knew it. For now though, Anya was more important.

She stood up and motioned for Sebastian to follow her inside the house. The children watched him go without another word. Ronnie knew as soon as she entered the house that things weren’t good. It was too quiet- no fuss, no rushing and no clink of the meager medical supplies that they had. A still silence, a quiet finality, had settled through the home and Ronnie could feel the weight of it pressing down on her with each step.

The family had gathered in the sitting room. Anya was laid out of the couch with one of Constance’s quilts over her. Malik sat on the low table, both of his hands wrapped around Anya’s, a steady pulse of yellow magic streaming through her. Already, a few gray hairs had sprouted at his temple.

Constance stood beside him, a tray of bandages and jars of ointment on a little silver tray. She looked so lost and so unsure of what to do.

Hazel sat in her chair by the window, rocking slowly with her steely gaze on Anya. She wore an expression that Ronnie had never seen on her kind face before.

Grim fear.

Constance saw them first. Relief washed over her and she set the tray down before launching herself at Lorna. “Oh, you’re back!” Constance squeezed her sister tightly. “I’ve been so worried. When Malik came back without you, I feared the worst. I’ve been watching my Seer and it’s been red the whole time you’ve been gone.” She held up her necklace, the little glass orb swirling with red smoke. “It still is. Malik’s too. There’s danger somewhere.”

Malik dug inside his pocket and held up the little glass ball without looking at them. Red. Lorna fumbled with the neck of her shirt, reaching down and lifting out her Seer. Red smoke swirled like a furious storm on the chain.

“We’ve heard rumors,” Hazel said. “I think we need to have a long conver-”

Sebastian stepped into the room and Hazel fell silent. Constance gasped and stepped back. Sebastian looked at both of them and gave a pathetic wave. He tried to smile but it didn’t quiet come off right, too tense and awkward. He was all too aware now of how people in the Edge looked at him, if he hadn’t realized it before.

Malik looked up and narrowed his eyes. “What is he doing here?” He stuffed the Seer back in his pocket.

“He’s with me,” Ronnie said. “Where else can he go?”

“He can go back to his own kind!” Malik spit the words with a venom Ronnie had never heard from him before. “This is all his fault! Him and the rest of his people. Always doing what they want with no regard for how it affects the rest of us.”

Lorna tried to calm him down. “Malik-”

“Look what they did to my sister!” he screamed, the anguish tearing from his throat. Malik’s entire body trembled with a barely restrained rage.

“I’m sorry for what’s happened,” Sebastian began.

Ronnie breathed out, already aware that it was entirely the wrong thing to say.

Malik nearly exploded. He sucked in several breaths and dropped Anya’s hand. He shot to his feet, tipping the table over as he did. “Sorry?” Incredulity colored his tone. “You’re sorry? My sister is dying because your people think we’re worth nothing and all you can say is you’re sorry?” Malik kicked the table across the room. “Sorry won’t save her life!”

“I don’t know what I can-”

“You don’t know anything!” A wave of yellow magic surged out like a tidal wave, cracking the glass in the windows. “You go about blindly, ignoring our pain, thinking that a few well meaning words are enough to make amends. They aren’t!” Malik advanced on Sebastian and Ronnie stepped in front of him, adrenaline ready to propel her into action.

Before anyone came to blows, however, Hazel’s voice cut through the anger. “Sloan did this, Malik. Don’t forget the one who walks around with blood on his hands.”

Malik turned to her. He pointed at Sebastian. “How can you stand having a human in your home? After everything they’ve done to us?”

“One is not responsible for the actions of others. Besides, hurting him would hurt Veronica. Surely, you don’t want that?”

Malik stared at Sebastian, taking him in from head to toe. He slid his gaze to Ronnie, leaning in close, his eyes boring into hers, searching. “I can’t believe it,” he muttered when he found what he was looking for. “A damned imprint.”

Ronnie wasn’t surprised that Hazel knew, somehow the old witch knew everything, but Malik? Was there some obvious physical sign?

A pained grunt came from Anya. Malik was at her side in an instant, grabbing her hand and sending waves of magic into her. He clenched his hands and brought hers to his mouth. He placed a kiss on her knuckles. Beneath the thrum of magic, there was a snap of something brittle. Malik froze, his eyes wide. He dropped Anya’s hand and opened his fingers. He let out a harsh breath- sitting in his palm was a grey finger.

Lorna gasped and covered her mouth. Constance backed away, wringing her hands in the hem of her shirt, shaking her head back and forth, unprepared for what was happening. The reality that there was nothing anyone could do for Anya settled over them like a storm cloud. Anya made another choking sound, black sludge oozing out of the corners of her mouth. She snapped in place rigidly, one of her arms bending awkwardly, the bones jutting out in a way they shouldn’t.

“Anya?” Malik pressed down on her shoulders, trying to keep her in place, but she bucked him off.

Her entire body seized and her eyes rolled up, leaving nothing but veiny whites. She tossed her head from side to side, sending large clumps of slimy black hair plopping to the floor. Anya arched her back, her spine cracking, and opened her mouth, letting out a harsh wheeze. A final breath.

She dropped back down on the couch, limp and unmoving. “Anya?” Malik touched her face, cupping her cheeks. “Anya? Please, breathe.” His words broke like pieces of glass. Choking down a sob, he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. His whole body trembled as he sucked in air like he suffocating. Constance leaned over behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. Muffled sobs filled the quiet room, a symphony of loss.

Lorna fell back against the wall and sank to the floor. She wiped at her eyes. Ronnie wanted to do the same. Grief spread through her chest like the cold cover of ice, tightening around her lungs and climbing up her throat. Sebastian’s fingers touched hers tentatively, silently asking for permission to comfort her. She didn’t move and oddly enough, her wild emotions didn’t disappear like before. It was like Sebastian was allowing her grief to grow while he acted like a wall that kept it from spilling over.

Malik leapt back suddenly, bumping into Constance and sending her crashing to the floor. Lorna pushed to her feet and hurried to her sister. “Malik, what the hell?”

“Anya…”

The witch’s eyes were obscenely wide, staring up at the ceiling. Black veins crawled over her arms and up her neck, resting around her eyes like a spider’s web. She twitched violently before suddenly shooting up on the couch. Her jaw dropped open and hung there as if she no longer controlled it. Each breath croaked through her throat, dry and scratchy.

“Anya?” Malik asked, hesitantly stepping toward her.

She turned her head to him, her bones creaking with every move. The green of her eyes had vanished behind a black veil. Looking at her gave Ronnie a violent jolt of remembrance, of the visage of the ghouls that stalked Sloan’s manor.

“Get away from her!” she shrieked, all too aware of what this meant.

But Malik was too slow- too weighed down by uncertain loss. Anya bolted up from the couch, moving much faster than the ghouls had. In mere seconds, she had her hands around Malik’s shoulders, pushing him to the ground with a force the old Anya hadn’t carried. She buried her face in his neck and began gnawing at whatever flesh she could sink her teeth into.

Malik bucked beneath her, unleashing a violent scream as a torrent of hot blood sprayed up from the wound. “Get her off me!”

Ronnie darted across the room. She dug her claws deep into Anya’s sides and wrenched her up off of Malik with great effort. She weighed a ton now, nothing like the slender girl Ronnie used to tease by picking her up and twirling her around. Grey clumps of oozing flesh stuck to Ronnie’s claws and she shook her hands wildly, trying to clean them off. Malik slapped a hand over his wound but blood spilled over his fingers. Lorna and Constance were at his side in an instant, waves of magic stitching his torn skin back together.

Sebastian ducked below the swing of Anya’s arm and maneuvered behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her flush against him. Anya didn’t struggle. It appeared that she didn’t even notice he was restraining her. She flung her head back and released a horrible yowl, hitting Sebastian square in the nose. He hissed, blood trickling down over his lips, but he didn’t let go.

“I can’t hold her,” he grunted, fighting to keep her back, his feet slipping when Anya took a step forward.

Ronnie launched herself at Anya and dug her claws into her chest with one hand, looping the other arm up between her legs and grabbing hold of the back of her belt. Sebastian released her as Ronnie lifted Anya up. Her spine protested the strain and threatened to buckle but Ronnie held firm and brought Anya crashing down headfirst onto the floor. She landed with a sickening crunch on impact and her body rolled limply to the side.

Ronnie sank down to one knee, panting from the exertion. Her arms ached, in competition with how her back felt. So much for her enhanced strength. It proved almost useless against a ghoul. Why did they weigh so much?

“Is she…” Malik tried to speak but the wound made it difficult to use his words. He broke off with a groan and let his head fall back against the floor.

“Almost, Malik. Hang on,” Constance said, pressing slim fingers to his bloody neck.

A low moan rumbled across the floor, followed by a snapping sound. A sharp inhale of rasped breath and another snap of bone. Anya twitched, jerking back into motion and dragging herself up from the floor and turning to face Ronnie.

Ronnie’s shoulders sagged. She couldn’t keep it up. Whatever was left of Anya was too strong. She took damage like she didn’t even feel it. She probably didn’t. Exhaustion anchored Ronnie’s limbs like dead weight, but she forced herself to move, pushing up on shaking legs.

With a screech, Anya shot forward like a bullet. Ronnie raised her arms, ready to defend herself but a flash of soft blue light flew past her, whipping her hair around in a breeze, and hit Anya head-on, hard enough that Ronnie heard her bones shatter. The force of magic knocked her back onto the ground. This time, she didn’t get back up.

Ronnie whirled around. Hazel was on her feet, forgotten quilt pooled on the floor. Her wrinkled hand trembled but still shone with crackles of blue. With a sigh, she lowered her hand gently to her side.

“Malik?” she croaked. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, sitting up with Lorna’s help. “Yeah. I’ll have another nice scar, but I’m alive.” He motioned for Lorna to help him to his feet. He kept a hand on his neck and walked with slow steps to Anya’s twisted body. She was finally, regretfully, dead.

“I’m so sorry, Malik.” Hazel spoke softly. There wasn’t much that could be said. Loss was impossible to put into words.

Malik looked over his shoulder, pinning Sebastian with a confused expression. Ronnie expected him to launch into another fierce exchange of words. He was hurting and he needed someone to blame for the loss of his beloved sister, but he only shook his head.

“I’m sorry, too.” He bent down and scooped Anya into his arms. Her head lolled back obscenely, as if her neck couldn’t support it and threatened to tear from the weight. “I’m going to go give her a proper burial,” his voice broke and Ronnie could hear him swallowing frantically from her place across the room, “out by that tree she liked in the back garden.”

“Do you want help?” Lorna offered, but Malik shook his head.

“No. Let me do this. Please.”

She moved from the doorway to let him pass. When he disappeared down the hall, she turned to Constance. “We should go check on the children. No doubt they heard the commotion.”

“Good,” Hazel agreed. “Someone needs to tell them about Anya.”

Ronnie watched them leave, wondering if she should follow them. A pained gasp and a pull in her chest kept her in place. Sebastian pulled himself up from the floor, wiping at his nose with a grimace. The brightness in his eyes had dimmed and Ronnie recognized the sour feeling in her chest as guilt. It seemed Malik’s accusations had done some damage after all.

“Veronica,” Hazel said, sitting in her chair. With a flourish of her hand, a torrent of blue swept across the floor like an ocean wave, washing away all traces of black and red. It wouldn’t do to have the children see the bloody remains of a fight no one wanted to win. “Perhaps you should take this young man,” she eyed Sebastian, “to get cleaned up. We’ll talk when you’re done.”

Ronnie didn’t have the strength to argue. Both she and Sebastian could do with a good scrubbing. She took his hand and led him out of the room.