Three black crows circled the cottage for two days and two nights. On the third morning, the stirring inside the small dwelling announced to the dark messengers that life was held within. The windows being gone, they could not determine who or what lived, but they left to relay the message that there was life of some kind inside the cottage.
As the last one winked out of sight over the top of the trees, the cottage regained its windows and doors and a pale, thin wraith of a woman staggered out. Her clothes were ripped, the stolen shirt hanging from her in ribbons. Her hair was matted to her neck and face with dried blood and her hands shook from hunger. Alira had died but now she did not feel alive.
Henry was nowhere to be seen. Somehow he had fled and Alira was alone. She felt as though she was hours from dying of thirst and she staggered to the well behind her childhood home. Pulling up the bucket seemed to take forever but finally she gulped the cold, metallic water. She dumped the rest over her head, rinsing off the blood. As she did, she ran a hand across her chest, feeling where the monstrous spirit had stabbed her with the two daggers. Thin purple scars ran parallel across her chest. Fatal wounds that had healed somehow. She collapsed against the stones of the well and drew in deep, heaving breaths.
Her mother had tricked…everyone. She had thwarted the witches and their network of familiar spies, she had somehow secretly given Alira the curse of a Black Baptism, and she had tricked Henry into completing her plans. But had Erin counted on Henry turning on Alira and trying to kill her? Why had he done that if he knew he was forbidden from doing so? Her instinct was that he felt cornered, trapped by betrayal of her mother and he had lashed out, unthinking. But she hadn’t died and he had vanished.
Her stomach twisted in hunger and Alira dragged herself to her feet, feeling every part of her body as a deep ache. She limped into the cottage and surveyed the damage.
Henry had made a mess of the place before leaving. He had cleaved the scrubbed wooden table she and her mother had cooked and eaten at. He had ripped the curtains from where the windows had been. He had thrown all of the household goods around. Burn marks scorched the floor and the door was barely hanging onto the hinges. Her home was a disaster.
She slowly sank down against the wall, wondering how she was going to make it anywhere to get food. Alira put her head in her hands and felt the hot, wet tears fall on her chest, despair settling on her. She had endured so much. Would this be the end?
What a pathetic way to die. The voice she heard sounded so much like Henry that she jumped, the start making her ache all over again. Undoubtedly he would have said just that and in that exact tone. How had he managed to invade her thoughts in the short time she had known him?
Ignoring me is rude. His laconic comment echoed in her mind uncomfortably.
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“Henry?” Alira breathed. Her eyes roamed every visible inch of the cottage, her body tensed to run. It was just a trashed, dusty mess. No sign of life other than herself.
I made a…miscalculation. I let my anger get the better of me. His voice was almost sheepish. I was hoping to ruin her plans… His voice cut short as Alira shook her head and closed her eyes.
“Where are you?” she whispered.
Aethra take me, the annoyingness has not been lifted. He wailed dramatically. Still bedraggled, still annoying. I wish I had died!
Alira felt a numbness, a sort of static tingling wash over her and her breathing slowed. A bright green mist lifted from her skin and formed in the rough shape of Henry as a man. The image lacked details and was completely see-through but his unlaced shirt and his tangle of curls could be made out. As the image formed and wavered before her, she felt like she was experiencing the world while underwater, her senses dulled and uncomfortable.
“You tried to murder me,” she accused him, her chest tight with anger and indignation and…something else.
“I did. I tried to thwart Erin’s plans. I was very…upset.” The misty image picked at his nails and sighed. “I knew it was impossible to kill you but I wanted to at least give it one good try before giving up. Worst case scenario, I’d be winked out of existence instead and that’d be a win if you ask me.”
“Why would you do that?” Alira was aghast at his callous uncaring tone.
“Dearest pet, your mother played the long game. She wanted to summon…her and she needed you to be the receptacle and me the catalyst. Well,” he sighed dramatically again. “Here we are.”
Alira shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She remained slow and dull, her mind working at such a sluggish pace that she wanted to just sleep. The shade of Henry seemed to take note and clucked.
“You’re so needy, Alira. We’ll have to work on this particular shortcoming.” He dissolved and reabsorbed into her skin and instantly she felt like she had surfaced. Her breath burst from her in gasp and she blinked.
“You’ve become a part of me?” She asked it aloud but she was acutely aware that if she had just thought the words Henry would have understood. This wasn’t possible.
An unintended consequence, I assure you. I merely wanted to sever my bond and thwart that snake of a woman. I had to…make a choice. This is worse than being chained to the damned burial mound. Alira sat for a minute and tried to process what she was feeling.
Henry was attached to her now. They were inseparable by any means of which she was aware. Was it permanent? This was too much, too fast. Her head spun and she felt her breath catching in her throat, panic welling up. She’d have to find someone who knew how to undo this tragic accident of fate. Suddenly her hand twitched against her will, a small twinge of her fingers.
I can’t even operate your body? This is truly unfair.
“You tried to kill me. Maybe you forfeit the right to a corporeal form but I’m saddled with a murderous spirit so really, who is worse off?” Henry’s laugh echoed around her mind disconcertingly.
Don’t lose your sense of humour, Alira. You’re annoying but sometimes you’re funny.