Soul Seekers03 - Mystic (24 page)

“Of course I do,” I whisper, dragging myself toward her. “C’mon.” I reach a tired hand toward hers. And when she lets me, when she doesn’t push me away, I use the last remaining bit of my strength to wrench the torch away. “You don’t have to do this.” I drop the torch just behind me where it sizzles in protest until it’s snuffed out by the snow.

I slip off my jacket and pull it over my head. Prepared to charge through the flames and reclaim my soul, when Phyre catches hold of my arm and with a hardened gaze says, “I was hoping I could give you salvation with a kiss—but you never let me get close enough. So now, I’m left with no choice. Fire is the only way to deliver your doomed and damaged soul.”

She fills her lungs with air, and exhales with all that she has. The sheer force of her breath meeting the flames, causes them to explode into a raging inferno that triggers the diamond shell to collapse, as I’m swept off my feet and slammed hard into a snowbank.

My vision tunnels.

Daire screams.

And the stake plunges straight for my soul.

thirty-five

Daire

Dace falls.

The dagger drops.

And I leap over his body and rush toward the blaze, fully intending to breach it like I did in the cave.

But when the toe of my boot smolders and burns, when the hem of my jeans scorches and singes, I realize this particular fire is not mine to control. It’ll burn me. Possibly end me. And I can’t take the chance.

I whirl toward the stake, overcome with relief when I see the uppermost part of the rope is still frozen, still attached to a barren limb, still hanging on, if only barely.

And of course, there’s still Phyre. Crazy Phyre. Seeming not to notice or care that the so-called love of her life has fallen into an unconscious heap. She turns on me, not so much as missing a beat in her continued attempts to hurt me.

“I can’t help but be jealous of you.” Her gaze is open, direct. I can feel the weight of it nudging my cheek. “But make no mistake, that’s not why I’m doing this. It’s not a pathetic,
if I can’t have him, then nobody can
, kind of moment. There are much bigger things happening here. Do you know about the bigger things?” She pauses, waits for me to reply, and when I don’t, she goes on to say, “You probably think you do, being the Seeker and all. But the world is much bigger than you and me. As soon as that stake drops, the twins will be gone, and not long after, I’ll be gone too. I used to resent it. Used to fight against it. But now I’ve learned to accept it.”

She leans forward, forces a smile to her lips. And I know this is it. One more exhale, that rope will snap, and Dace and Cade are history.

While I’m nearly ready for her, nearly ready to put the plan I’ve been working on this whole time into action, I need a few moments more. So I do what I can to distract her.

“I have a similar situation,” I say, chancing only the briefest glance her way, enough to make sure I’ve successfully stalled her, if only temporarily. “I was furious when I first learned I was the Seeker. I even tried to run away. Though clearly, I didn’t get very far.”

“It’s not the same.” She scowls, rolls her eyes, and gets into position again.

“Not the same, but similar. You have to admit that it’s similar.” My voice rings too frantic, too desperate, I seriously need to tone it down. Still, it does seem to bear some effect. As witnessed by the way Phyre leans back ever so slightly, closes her lips, twists her mouth to the side. “Like you, I also have a destiny.” I swallow hard. Remind myself I can do this. Try not to think about how many times it’s recently failed. “But unlike you, my destiny is for the greater good…” I rub my lips together. Start counting down in my head.

One …
I slowly lift my hand.

Two
 … I flatten my palm, turn it toward the dagger.

Three
 … I beg a silent plea to the universe:
Please, don’t let this fail me!

“And mine?” Her voice is snappy, impatient.

“And yours…” I grit my teeth, spread my fingers, and prepare for what’s next.

“Speak, Seeker!” she screams. Her voice reverberating so loudly, it causes the flames to surge, the tree limbs to shake, and the dagger to drop even farther, dangling precariously.

“And yours is just a bunch of made-up bullshit created by your psychotic dad.”

My eyes meet hers, confirming the outrage I intentionally put there. I only hope my timing was right.

She leans toward the sculpture and heaves an exhale so forceful, the heat from the flames causes the rope holding the dagger to instantly snap, allowing it to careen straight for Dace’s soul.

I watch the progression.

I don’t dare blink.

With my hand held open before me, I beg another silent plea.

Calling on my powers of telekinesis, which lately have been tenuous at best. But right now, it’s all that I’ve got.

Well, that, and my intent. Which, according to Paloma, is magick’s most important ingredient.

And yet, despite my best intentions, despite my fervent prayer, the dagger, now just a razor’s width away from Dace’s soul—refuses to alter its path.

It slams straight down.

Straight into the space where Dace’s soul once stood.

I scream an unearthly involuntary sound. Gape in outraged disbelief.

Silencing when I see the way Phyre stares at me and I follow her gaze to my hand.

My intention was to save Dace’s soul, and it appears I did exactly that.

My telekinesis didn’t fail me.

It merely forfeited the dagger in place of the object that truly mattered most.

While the dagger fell, the soul found its way to my hand.

With eyes blazing as bright as the flames that she set, Phyre lets out a horrible wail and charges straight toward me. The force of her body slamming into mine knocks the air flat out of me, as the soul slips free of my grasp.

It hovers above us, as we both desperately claw for it. Though it’s not long before it begins to drift into the sky.

Phyre shoves off me, jumps to her feet. As I scramble to catch up, keep her from claiming it.

Because of the fires she set, the once heavy blanket of snow is now melting around us. Turning to a thick, viscous mud that bungles the chase, leaving us slipping, sliding, losing our balance but never our will in pursuit of Dace’s soul.

“You can’t save him,” she shouts, racing before me. “It’s the Word. It is written. It is already happening. There is nothing you can do to change it.”

I lengthen my stride, fight like hell to overtake her. And when my feet finally hit a patch of dry land, providing me some much-needed traction, I leap toward the sky, leap toward Dace’s soul—only to watch as Phyre reaches it first.

She captures it in her outstretched hands. Pulls it in close to her chest. The sight of this crazed, unhinged girl handling something so fragile, so delicate, so precious, so easily destroyed—leaves me breathless and horrified.

She stares at it with wide, dreamy eyes, transfixed by the sight of it. But when she notices my approach, she pulls it even closer. Wrapping a protective arm around it, she clucks her tongue and says, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I lift my palms in surrender, stand silently before her. Watching as she snakes a hand into her pocket and retrieves the turquoise-and-silver lighter she lifted from Cade.

“Did you know my middle name is Oleander?” Her eyes briefly meet mine. “Phyre Oleander Youngblood. How’s that for a mouthful?” she muses, idly flicking the lighter’s ribbed metal wheel with the pad of her thumb. “Although I wasn’t given the name until I was sixteen. That’s when my destiny was sealed. Though it started way back when I was eight. My father told me it was a great honor. One that I should bear proudly. Never mind that it nearly killed me on more than one occasion. But, as it turns out, when it’s all said and done, my father was right. Then again, he usually is.” She reaches into her pocket again. This time retrieving a perfect pink blossom with a short, thin stem she props between her front teeth.

At first I assume she’s going to swallow it whole, but a moment later I watch as she pulls the flowerless stem from her lips and uses the lighter to set it ablaze. The mere act of flame meeting stem is enough to cause a thick cloud of acrid smoke to surround me, leaving me gagging, choking, blurring my vision until everything around me begins to shimmer and halo. Rendering it nearly impossible to keep an eye on Dace’s soul when every single thing is glistening, glimmering with a nimbus of light.

“It’s really too bad it had to end this way.” Phyre assumes a thoughtful expression, as hundreds of brilliant orbs dance between us. “Under different circumstances, I’m sure we could’ve been friends.” She smiles briefly, purses her lips, and exhales a deep breath she directs right at me. Engulfing me in a cloud so noxious I can’t help but fall to my knees.

My body seized by convulsions, my vision swimming with the illusion of glimmering orbs, I clutch hard at the ground and claw my way toward her. Stealing a moment to jerk the neck of my sweater up past my chin, until it covers my nose and my mouth, hoping it will filter the smoke long enough for me to defeat her.

When I face her again, I’m amazed to see a whole host of spirit animals are beginning to creep out of hiding.

The snow is melting.

The earth is warming.

Their forced hibernation has come to an end.

I count rabbits, skunks, squirrels, and sparrows among them. Yet still no one I recognize. No one with any obligation to help me.

I continue to squint through the smoke and haze, as Phyre moves tantalizingly close, Dace’s soul precariously balanced on her palm.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Her fingers flex, soften, then flex again. Leaving no doubt that one solid squeeze will see that it’s done. “It’s so fragile. So delicate. So easily …
crushed
.” She curls her fingers. Looks right at me. “So strange to hold the soul of the boy you love in the palm of your hand. I’m afraid this is it, Daire. He belongs to none of us now.”

Her fingers clench.

Her eyes fill with tears.

And I use the moment to duck my head low and barrel straight toward her. Knocking her right off her feet, sending her soaring into the sky, her arms windmilling wildly. Until she slams hard into the ground, with me right on top, and the force of the jolt causes the soul to slip free, just as I’d hoped.

I push off her and watch its progression. Hoping with everything I have in me that the familiar presence I spotted in the distance is still on my side.

Catch it! Oh please, catch it!

Phyre leaps to her feet, tries to get past me, but it’s too late.

Raven has already swooped down.

Already caught it in his opened beak.

And by the time he makes the handoff to Horse, I turn back to find Phyre has fled.

thirty-six

Dace

“How do you feel?” Daire hugs me tight at the waist, resting her chin on my shoulder in a way that causes her soft strands of hair to brush over my cheek. Our bodies swaying in tandem to Horse’s easy gait.

“Good. Still good.” I crick my neck just enough to take in her glittering green eyes, the rosy flush of her cheeks, captured by the absolute wonder of her.

“Like your old self?” She narrows her eyes. Gnaws hard on her lip. A move I recognize for what it is—an attempt to keep her joy contained—her hopes well in check.

I flatten my lips, and stare straight ahead. “No. Not yet,” I say, preparing for the lie to come. “But someday. Someday soon. I’m sure of it.” I nod to confirm it, but the truth is, I have no proof whatsoever to back up my words.

While I may have gotten my soul back, it still bears Cade’s mark.

The day I took a soul jump into my twin, I came away changed.

There’s a good chance I may never find my way back.

“Dace—can I see your eyes?” Her voice is both forceful and tentative. And I’m amazed yet again at her ability to do that. To ease my fears as though they never existed, convincing me to do the one thing I’d prefer to avoid.

With a heavy heart, I allow my gaze to meet hers, only to see her flinch in response.

“Oh.” She drops her gaze to her lap, unsure what to make of it—make of me. As though she needs some time to process and think.

I heave a ragged breath, preparing myself to lose her again. But there’s no way to prepare for something like that. I can’t imagine my world without Daire.

“I thought maybe…” Her voice fades. There’s no need to finish when the unspoken bits are easy to guess.

“Daire—” I pause, backing away from the lie I told earlier. It was a cowardly, self-serving act. If nothing else, I owe her the truth. “I’m afraid it won’t be that easy. Now that I’ve stolen a piece of Cade, I have no idea how to get rid of it.”

She absorbs my words with a serious face, a determined tilt of her chin, as she asks, “What can I do? How can I help?”

I squint. Not sure I heard right.

She wants to help? Does that mean she’s not looking to leave?

“There must be something I can do,” she says. “And, if not me, then maybe Paloma will know of something—or even Chepi, or Leftfoot, or Chay. Between the four of them, the elders are like a storehouse of remedies and magickal secrets.”

I swallow hard. Feeling a little choked by her words. And more than a little ashamed for doubting her. Daire’s a fighter. Loyal to a fault. She doesn’t give up on anyone.

I reach behind me, cup a hand to the outside of her thigh. “This is not one for the Seeker,” I say. “This is my mess to fix.”

“But—you’re still
you,
right?”

I gaze straight ahead, tracking the path Raven sets. “Yes,” I say, voice barely audible. “I’m still me—though a slightly changed version of me. I’m no longer pure goodness and light. The darkness inside causes me to feel differently—see differently…” I squeeze her leg, needing her to understand the magnitude of my words. “But there’s one thing that will never change.”