The Underground Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (33 page)

Emmeline snapped her head forward and glared at Flora.
“You want to own me. That’s why I can’t stop.”

“
Yes, for this exercise to work, I have to want it. I have to want your power.”

Emmeline
clenched her fists. Exercise? It felt like so much more than a simple exercise. Flora had betrayed her. “I won’t let you control me,” she said through her teeth.

“Good! Fight it!”

Emmeline squeezed her eyes shut. She wouldn’t open them if her life depended on it. How could she have been stupid enough to put herself into another position to be controlled? The fire pressed all around her and filled her until she thought she would suffocate. Her skin could have been melting off, for all she knew, but she refused to look.

“I won’t beat you, child,” Flora said. “
I suspect that has been the method of your last masters. If I must, I will wait for the fire to make the choice for you. Without any injuries needing to be healed it has nowhere to go.”

Emmeline whimpered.

“You can’t resist it for long, unless you can push it away, Emmeline. Forget the searing pain. Ignore the flame’s call. Go inside yourself and fight back!”

Emmeline dropped to her knees. She searched within herself but found
only lava. How could she go into the core of her mind if it was already in flames?

A little voice squeaked from the
door. “Stop, Flora!” O’fin cried. “You’re hurting her!”

“
Go back to bed,” Flora said.

Emmeline heard O’fin
’s little feet rushing forward and then he squawked like a wounded bird.

Something tore inside
her. Had Flora hurt him? She was an Incenaga too and for all Emmeline knew, Flora could have taken on heat and used it to throw him back. His little cry pierced her heart and her eyes popped open in a knee-jerk response. Piercing light filled the room, time went to a standstill, and Emmeline saw the situation for what it was. Flora hadn’t hurt him. He’d slipped on an empty bottle and Flora’s arms were reaching out to comfort him.

Emmeline
tried to shut her eyes again but she could do nothing but stand frozen, trapped in her own body until someone claimed her. Flora’s eyes widened and then turned sad before her head turned bit by bit in Emmeline’s direction. O’fin’s hands pulled up to cover his face, his eyes squinting from the bright light shining from Emmeline’s silver eyes. Finally, Flora’s gaze settled on Emmeline’s.

The air popped and time resumed.

Flora faced Emmeline, her chest heaving and her shoulders moving up and down. Her lips trembled. “I release you, Incenaga,” she said.

A weight lifted off Emmeline and she stumbled back.
What had just happened? Why did Flora release her? O’fin rushed to her and fell onto her lap.

“Are you hurt
, Em?” he asked.

Emmeline
shook her head and looked up at Flora. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to control me?”

Flor
a’s frown deepened. “I know.” She kneeled and unlocked the metal bindings around Emmeline’s wrists.

Emmeline’s heart constricted with guilt. She should have known better than to accuse her grandmother. It had been an exercise, just as Flora had said.

“I’m sorry,” Emmeline said.

Flora’s gaze locked onto Emmeline’s once again. “I know
I’ll never make up for losing Gwynn, but I promise that’ll do all in my power to save you. Do you believe me?”

Emmeline nodded
. She wrapped her arms around O’fin and nuzzled the top of his head with her nose.

Flora smiled.
“Then let O’fin off your lap and we’ll do this again.”

“Again?”

Flora scowled. “I don’t want to do this anymore than you do. O’fin, off to bed. I’m trying to help Emmeline.”

“But she
is hurt,” he said.

Flora patted the boy’s head. “
She’s just fine and she still has much to learn. Tiergan will keep abusing her until she learns how to fight back. If she were to use a flame against him now, the risk would be too great that she would lose control. He can still rule over her, and his desire to own her will consumer her.”

O’
fin looked into Emmeline’s face and his big brown eyes filled with tears. Pulling a strand of sweat-matted hair from off her forehead, he tucked it behind her head. With a sigh, he leaned closer to her.

“I’m worried about you,” O
’fin whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” Emmeline whispered back. “I have to do this.”

O’fin gave Emmeline a tight squeeze and then shuffled out the door and up the stairs.

“Are you ready?” Flora asked
once O’fin was out of earshot.

Emmeline took a calming breath
and held out her wrists. “I’m ready.”

Erick was a breath away from going mad. His soldiers had still not returned with the messenger and thick fog had crept in from sea, covering the entire sleepy town of Mishel. Not a single soul roamed the streets or answered any of his questions.

Sitting on the edge of an army cot, he
ran a hand through his hair. He needed something, a hint, a clue, anything that would lead him in the right direction to Emmeline. He stood and paced the tent. How much longer would he have to wait for the messenger to arrive?

Horse
hooves pounded not far from the camp and Erick flung the tent door aside, rushing to the center of the road. He squinted. The fog thickened the further his eyes traveled, turning everything into the grayish-white of unknown. The pounding grew louder and his heart quickened. Whoever it was, they were headed for the camp.

Unable to wait a
second longer, Erick took off in a sprint toward the sound. The fog folded around him until he could no longer see his legs, or two inches from his face. He ran blindly and knew that at any moment he could trip over a rock or crash into a tree, but he didn’t care. If the horse carried Cardoon, then he needed to speak with him at once.

A shadow
whooshed behind him and into the trees on the other side of the road. Erick dug his heels into the road and came to a stop. Pulling his sword from its sheath, he held it in front of him as he faced the forest. The sea churned behind him, but he could see neither sea nor forest in any direction. After two heavy breaths, and no other movement, he concluded it must have been an animal. Although, an animal would have made more sound, he thought.

Sheathing his sword, Erick
brought his attention back to the oncoming clatter of horse hooves. Just as he leaned forward to push off into a run, another swoosh of air stirred behind him, this time closer. The leaves on the other side of the road rustled with movement.

“Wh
o goes there?” Erick said, irritated at the intrusion. Someone was playing tricks on him, and he wasn’t amused. Or was he going mad? Had he already lost his mind? He shook his head to clear it. He had neither the time nor the patience for foolishness. When no answer came, he turned his focus once again to the approaching horses. His eyes strained to see through the heavy fog.

“What are we looking for?”

Erick’s heart lurched to his throat. He whirled around and found himself face to face with a toothy grin on an oval, dark face.

“Who are you?” Erick demanded.

“Who are you?”

“I am Crown Prince
Richmond Frederick of Dolmerti. And you are?”

With a twinkle in his eye, t
he dark man bounced on his feet in a strange dance. Erick scowled and brought his attention back to the road. The man posed no threat to him for the time being and Erick wanted nothing more than to see what news the riders carried.

“I know who you are,” the dancing man said.
His grin widened.

“Yes, well that makes one of us,” Erick mumbled without looking in his direction.

“You don’t know who you are?”

“O
f course I do. I just told you. I meant I don’t know who you are.”

“I know what you want,” the man sang.

Erick glanced at the dancing man out of the corner of his eyes and then gazed back into the fog. “You couldn’t possibly know what I want,” he said.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, actually. I do.”

“No
, you don’t.”

“Yes
, I do.”

“No
, you don’t.”

Erick paused and studied the man.
“Are you sane?” he asked.

“Quite.
So much so that I know what you want.”

Erick rolled his eyes.
“I’m not having this conversation with you. Can you not hear the approaching horses?”

The man stopped d
ancing and stood still. “Her hair is as black as night,” he whispered.

Erick froze.

“Her eyes are like the deep ocean by day and silver by night. Her beauty exceeds all, but it is the fire in her eyes that sets her apart. She’s a fighter, that one.”

Erick’s eyes widened, but before he could open his mouth, the
horses were upon them. He jumped out of the way and let them pass. Until he discovered what the man knew, the riders could wait. He turned to face the man.

He
was gone.

Erick lurched into the trees. “Wait!” he shouted.

Nothing.

Desperate to
hold on to the one clue he’d had in weeks, Erick tromped through the forest in search of the dancing man. But with no name to call and fog as thick as a sheet, he had no hope of finding him again. After an hour of searching, madness crept into his mind once again. Bit by bit, he was losing his sanity.

Erick returned to the camp to find his soldiers escorting the messenger
, Penne Cardoon, out of the commander’s tent. Cardoon stood taller than Erick, but not by much, and had black hair that parted down the middle in a neat line.

“I apologize for not being here sooner,
Your Highness,” Cardoon said when Erick entered the tent. “I had no idea you were looking for me.”

“You are here now
. I fear you may be my last hope to find someone very dear to me.”

“The Incenaga
,” Cardoon said with a knowing nod.

Erick
clenched his jaw. Even the people of Mishel knew her true identity? He was kidding himself to think he could keep it a secret. “You know where she is, then? Tell me. Is she harmed?”

“I don’t know where she is, or if she h
as been harmed, but I’m not afraid of that monster so I will tell you what I do know.” Cardoon squared his shoulders.

“
We will protect you if need be.”

Cardoon took a deep breath and the soldiers took a step closer, leaning in as if to hear his every word.
Cardoon noticed his eager audience, and began speaking as if he were telling a ghost story. With his voice low and his eyes wide, he began.

“
A captain arrived in Mishel with a strange crew. Sailors from one country and soldiers from another worked together, although it became apparent they were not on amicable terms. They fought left and right and not a day went by when a body did not meet the sea. From the moment the captain stepped off the ship darkness settled over Mishel. Everyone feared him, but his first mate terrified everyone even more. If the devil had a body it would be him. He breathed evil and spread it around him like hot tar.”

“Spare us the theatrics,” Commander Benshi cut in. “Tell
him what you told me.”

Cardoon straightened and tugged on the bottom of his jacket. “Very well,” he said at a normal speaking level.
“The leader approached me not long after they arrived and requested I take a letter to the Volarcus scribe and bury it where it could be found without suspicion. I was then to put myself into a position to be the one to deliver it to Dolmerti. I told him I could take the letter straight to Dolmerti, but he grew angry and told me to follow his instructions as he dictated.

“
Something in my bones told me I shouldn’t get involved so I declined, despite the large sum he offered me. The next morning I opened my door to find a friend on my porch, stiff as a board. He clutched a letter in his dead hands that said I would find a fresh corpse on my porch every morning until I agreed to the captain’s terms.

“
I panicked, of course and told everyone I knew to stay away from him and his first mate. And then I agreed to deliver the letter. I felt sick about it the entire time. He threatened the people of Mishel that if anyone dared breathe a word of his existence he would return and slaughter the entire town. And we believed him. He had everyone scurrying around him, preparing every needful thing for his return. He wanted the ship well stocked and supplied.”

Erick waited for the
messenger to finish, processing every tiny detail for holes or additional clues. “What was the leader’s name?”