Chapter 25

25

LECTURE NOTES FROM REALM HISTORY:

In the aftermath of the UnResting, there were a series of necessary changes. The Elemental Supreme bolstered her regime by enlisting every Elemental in the land for mandatory service.

T hessa hadn’t slept. Not one wink. Thoughts of evading Elemental guards and her forbidden magic left her wide awake.

She’d crept out of Ivy’s bed, certain she’d spend the night conversing with Hades in the washroom, but the god of the underworld had canceled their plans. Instead, the urge to escape had coursed through her.

Everything she owned was strapped across her back, with the exception of the dagger in her boot. Her duffle bag didn’t weigh her down as much as leaving had, but it was the right thing to do.

Her friends didn’t need her burden.

As she passed Crescent Moon Bay, and that damned wagon with the mangled wheel, she cursed about serpent-infused mead.

Signage painted on the trunk of an elm tree read, “Wilcrest, twenty-one miles.” It’d take her about seven hours by foot, or more like eight with breaks, but she’d arrive by mid-morning. The soldiers couldn’t have what they couldn’t find, and Leora would be safer without her.

As Mabelton disappeared, a small part of her hoped she’d run into Quinnley. She wanted to apologize for being accusatory. What she’d meant to say was that she understood what it felt like to be alone.And right now felt no different than living in Gravenport for eighteen years.

Each mile-marker she passed, Thessa grew more anxious. Even her fingertips itched, like her magic was just as tense as she was. When the sun finally graced the sky with its presence, she plopped down to rest. To her relief, the birds were louder, and more distracting than the night insects had been.

She breathed, conjuring her restless magic. Thick, black tendrils flowed from her fingertips, soon shielding her in a plume of smoke. Its dark veil shimmered in the early light.

“Happy now?” she wondered.

They’d never taught her about demon magic in school. Studies of demons had focused on the days leading up to the UnResting, and the exiles that followed.

“Go on then, show me how evil you are.”

There was no answer. Her magic hovered around her, rippling like the surface of a quiet sea. She remembered in the dungeon it had never attacked the guard, instead it protected her. The idea contradicted everything she’d thought about demon magic. It was supposed to be lethal, not twirling around her like it wanted to braid her hair.

Thessa exhaled with irritation, effectively ridding her magic. She got to her feet, adjusted her bag, and continued south.

She’d been traveling alone, on the same dirt road, all night and into the morning, so suddenly hearing footsteps behind her made her heart race. She worried that a soldier had tracked her down, or worse, they’d seen her magic.

Thessa peeked over her shoulder for a clue.

A large, cloaked figure was walking with determined footsteps. It wasn’t a soldier’s uniform, but their hood covered their features.

She whipped her head forward and walked faster, finding solace in the feel of steel sheathed inside her boot. She may be small, but that meant she was eye-level to some serious organs. Tacking on her vivid memory of Immortal Anatomy lessons, she could figure out where to jab.But before she could recount the major arteries, Thessa was on the ground, taking in a mouthful of dirt.

“Hades,” she swore, spitting.

She tried to stand but failed as something tugged at her feet. She looked to see a slimy, juvenile serpent strung around her ankles. Its slitted tongue flicked in and out, as if it was pleased with itself. A binding didn’t mean she couldn’t defend herself; she wouldn’t remain trapped like prey.

Not again.

She pressed her weight into both hands and jumped to her feet, unsheathing her dagger in the same motion. The serpent hissed, tightening around her ankles. She bent down and slashed right through the slimy thing.

When one turned into a dozen, she stopped furiously slicing and looked up to see Soren sneering. There was no way she could move without falling again.

Thessa spoke through her teeth. “I should’ve sliced your throat in that dungeon. ”

He removed his hood and dropped his ear toward his shoulder, revealing a fresh cut across his burns. “You already did that.”

“How are you even here? Why are you doing this?” She tried to mask the panic in her tone.

He didn’t answer.

Thessa just had to lure him a little closer to take her shot. “You’re no better than them , tying me up like this,” she said, glancing at her legs.

He snarled, but not before lunging at her.

Thessa made her move, launching the tip of her dagger toward the center of his abdomen—a large vessel lived there, feeding the entire lower body with blood.

A serpent seized her wrist faster than the blade could puncture the fibers of his cloak. The slithering beast squeezed so tight, refusing to let her hand move.

Thessa kept trying to pierce Soren’s gut, shaking with effort while her lip curled. As her fingers blanched and all sensation was lost, she was forced to drop the blade. Unable to stop her momentum, she crashed into his chest.

Soren didn’t stumble; he felt like a sheet of steel.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, shoving her off.

She collapsed by his feet, next to her useless dagger. Still bound by his serpents, she stared up at him. “Retract your beasts, or just kill me already.” She knew death would mean no more tomorrows to fear anyway. “What are you waiting for?”

His magic slithered away from her, shifting into black dust before disappearing into nothing. Thessa wondered how he’d done that, despite worrying she was about to die.