Chapter Eight

C andace

Candace sprinted toward the wishing well, her heart pounding with dread. In the distance, she could see the townspeople converging on the clearing, their movements stiff and unnatural like marionettes on tangled strings.

Zenaida's cruel laughter echoed through the forest as she drove her thralls forward. Candace had to get there first, had to protect the well at all costs. Skidding to a halt at the edge of the well's clearing, Candace raised her hands, ready to unleash the full force of her sunsidhe magic. But before she could act, the possessed townspeople surrounded the well, their pickaxes poised to strike.

"Stop!" Candace cried, her voice ringing with power.

The thralls froze, the command momentarily overriding Zenaida's control. Candace had to break the spell fast, but she couldn't risk hurting them.

Gritting her teeth, she called on her magic, weaving strands of glimmering light to dazzle and disorient. The townspeople stumbled back, shielding their eyes. Candace pressed her advantage, advancing slowly.

"You don't want to do this. Fight her influence."

For a moment, it seemed to be working. But then the thralls' expressions hardened, and as one, they turned back to the well, pickaxes swinging.

The battle was on. Candace threw herself into the fray, unleashing every non-lethal power at her disposal. The air crackled with the collision of light and shadow as she and Roderick both started to cast defensive spells. Shadows snaked from Roderick's fingertips, weaving through the mass of thralls with the elegance of a midnight waltz, entwining them in smoky tendrils that tangled them up.

"Your turn to dazzle them," he said.

"Thought you'd never ask." Candace clapped her hands, summoning the sweetness of her sunsidhe essence. The scent of sugar and spice curled into the air around her as she stretched out her hands toward the thralls.

"Careful, sugar plum. Wouldn't want you to break a nail."

"Please, I don't break—I bend." With a flick of her wrist, Candace sent a surge of sugary energy toward a cluster of thralls, their grotesque forms dissolving into motes of shimmering dust as they met her unyielding joy.

"Who knew the Sugar Plum Fairy had such a right hook?"

"Comes with the territory. I may be full of joy and sweetness, but I'm no pushover."

Candace extended her hand, palm glowing with an ethereal luminescence, and Roderick met it with his own shadow-drenched fingers. Their powers mingled, light and dark swirling in a mesmerizing yin and yang that coalesced into a magical barrier around the ancient well. The thralls recoiled as the shield solidified, a dome that was both prison and protector.

"Leave the well, for now," Zenaida said, emerging from the trees where she had been hiding. "Kill the fae. Use the iron weapons."

"Shit," Roderick said. "Stay behind me."

"Not a chance."

The thralls swarmed them, brandishing spiky maces. Roderick blurred into motion, his magic strikes as solid as the stones in the wishing well as he kept the thralls and their lethal weapons away from them. His arms swung with a ferocity that was both mesmerizing and terrifying, a testament to the power he wielded as a being born from the night itself.

As they fought off the thralls and the painful grazes from the iron weapons, Candace saw that Zenaida was not sitting on the edges of the battlefield. Twelve other witches formed a circle with her, chanting in a guttural tongue. Zenaida raised her arms, dark energy crackling at her fingertips. The air grew heavy, charged with power that raised the hairs on Candace's arms.

Black lightning hit the barrier around the well, and Candace shoved with her power to get the thralls away from her so she could have room to counter the effect. But they were too much for both her and Roderick to take their attention away from. As long as they were attacking with iron weapons, they could seriously damage them.

More black lightning peppered the barrier. The grove shook with the impact. Drawing on her magic, Candace flung out a hand. A wave of glittering light erupted from her fingertips, washing over the thralls. They recoiled, shielding their eyes and stumbling away from the well. But she was too late. The witches were too strong. With a deafening crack, the magical barrier around the well shattered as more bolts hit the weakened parts of it.

Candace cried out as the backlash threw her and Roderick to the ground. Dazed, they could only watch as the coven advanced, malicious triumph in their eyes.

"I can't breathe," she said, the wind knocked out of her.

"Don't worry, Sugar Plum, I've got a plan," Roderick said, the whites of his eyes bleeding into a solid black. "I bequeath to you the realm of nightmares."

"Wait, what?" she said, swiveling her head to him.

His hair whipped around him like ink-black tendrils, obscuring his face. An aura of shadows began to envelop him, drawing the dark energy from within. He was using his life force to protect the well.

"No, don't," Candace cried out, her chest tightening with dread.

"I love you. Protect Whitlock from people like Zenaida," he said. With a deep, guttural roar, Roderick released the shadows. They burst forth like a tidal wave, smashing into the witches and throwing them off course. But the onslaught of darkness came at a price—Roderick sagged, his body weakened by the immense sacrifice. He was pale and trembling, the void already claiming him.

"You can't do this," she begged. "I won't let you go."

Roderick gave her a sad smile. "Some things are worth sacrificing for."

Candace shook her head fiercely. "Not you. Never you."

She threw her arms around him, letting her light pour into him. Roderick gasped as her radiance flooded his veins, driving back the grasping shadows. "It's not over," she said. It was time to call in some backup. Candace opened a portal from the Land of Sweets.

"To arms!" she called. "We need you."

An army of candy warriors poured forth, massive gumdrop golems wielding giant candy canes as weapons. Pixie archers let fly storms of needle-sharp peppermint darts. A stampede of gummy bears the size of grizzly bears charged forth.

As the gummy bears engaged the witches' thralls, candy fae zipped above the fray, showering the witches with pixie sticks filled with sugar. The granules stung their eyes, blinding them and sending them into disarray. The witches faltered, shocked by this sudden onslaught. Seizing the advantage, the candy army smashed into them with unrestrained fury.

"Sweet revenge," Candace whispered, unable to resist a small grin.

"Your puns are going to give me nightmares," Roderick gasped out, propping himself up on one arm.

Together, they turned to face the well. The candy army had the witches on the retreat, but the thralls had regrouped and were advancing toward them. Candace's hands trembled as she and Roderick continued to pour their magic into the barrier that now included them as well. Hands clasped, they focused their combined magic into the well, a desperate attempt to mend the rift tearing through the air. A torrent of vibrant colors swirled around them—warm hues of sunshine from Candace and icy shades of moonlight from Roderick—weaving together like an intricate dance. Their love, a delicate balance of light and darkness, seemed to solidify for a moment, a testament to the strength they found in each other.

"Too much power," Roderick gasped, his grip on Candace's hand tightening. "We have to slow down."

Candace shook her head, her expression resolute. "No, we can't. Our realms depend on us."

"Then so be it," he said, accepting the consequences of their actions. "Together."

As they poured every last drop of their energy into stabilizing the well, an eerie silence fell. The well had bound their life forces to itself—its protectors forevermore. They could never return to Whitlock in person now. In the mortal world, they were the wishing well. Candace met Roderick's eyes, reading the same bittersweet realization there. At least they would be together, and at least they still had their own realms.

She saw Ben appear at the edge of the battlefield. With a calculated precision, he swooped in and closed the distance between himself and Zenaida.

"Enough," he snarled at her, his eyes blazing with cold fury.

Zenaida sneered, but before she could respond, Ben sank his teeth into her throat.

She recoiled and then sagged to the ground. Ben let her drop before turning to the thralls. "She no longer has any power over you." A dark hex rippled through the air, and the townspeople dropped their iron weapons and sank to their knees, holding their heads in pain.

"And as for you"—Ben turned to the coven, who tried to run only to find themselves surrounded by ghouls and gargoyles from the town's militia—"your fate will be decided by the court."

Candace leaned into Roderick's embrace, the weight of their sacrifice settling around them like a heavy blanket. They had given everything for their realms and the people they loved, and they faded into the wishing well to regather their strength before returning to their realms. One thing was clear—their love had triumphed over darkness.

"Thank you," she whispered against his chest, her heart aching with gratitude and sorrow.

"Always," Roderick murmured, his arms tightening around her. And in that quiet moment, amidst the remnants of battle, they found solace in each other's arms, two lost souls bound together by love and an unrelenting determination to protect what was theirs.