A Witch Alone (The Winter Witch Trilogy #3) (34 page)

Marcus wiped his hand fastidiously on his trousers.

‘Shall we try that again?’ he said to Emmaline. ‘Perhaps with his heart?’

Emmaline didn’t speak; she just gasped and retched. Marcus put his face close to hers.

‘I know. I know what you’ve tried to keep from him and from Anna. I know you love him. You can hide it from them, but not from me.’

‘No …’ Em sobbed. But her eyes were fixed on Abe, fixed on his unconscious face, and I saw what I’d missed all these months. It was true.

‘I know you’ve longed for his heart,’ Marcus said softly. ‘I know how you’ve wished it could be yours. I can give it to you. Wet and beating.’

Em retched again, a pool of spit and acid at Marcus’ feet. When she looked up, her eyes were full of hate. But she didn’t speak.

Marcus sighed.

‘Don’t think I’ve finished with you,’ he said. ‘This is a pause, not a reprieve.’

And then he turned and looked at Seth.

‘Don’t kill him,’ Tatiana said casually. ‘Not yet. If you kill him, the girl will only have less to lose.’

‘I’ll try not to,’ Marcus said distastefully. He put his head on one side, thinking. I could see Seth’s chest rising and falling beneath his shirt, his face wary and full of fury as he tried to work out what Marcus had in store for him.

Then – to my shock – he began to speak.

‘There’ve been times when I hated you,’ Seth said. His voice was strange, reluctant, almost thick, as if he was forcing the words out, or as if they were forcing themselves out, in spite of everything he could do to prevent it. He stopped, shook his head, bewildered, and then said, ‘Anna, I’m so sorry – I never meant …’ He stopped again and then spat out, ‘I slept with other people. Twice. Once in Morocco. Once in Helsinki.’

This time he clapped his manacled hand across his mouth. His eyes as they looked at me were full of mute horror. I longed to wrench my hands free of the chains, to cover my ears, to spare us both the torture of the truth. Because that was the worst thing. I knew it
was
the truth.

Marcus began to laugh and Seth turned to him, furious.

‘You’re doing this! You bastard – what are you doing? How are you … ? No!’ He clamped his lips shut, trying to physically stop the words, but his face twisted and they spilled out like poison. ‘It was like a revenge. I thought I could screw you out of my system – but it didn’t work. The more I tried to forget you, the more I obsessed about you.’

I strained uselessly at the shackles, wondering hopelessly why we could close our eyes but not our ears. I would’ve given anything to be able to shut this out.

‘I began to realize it was true,’ Seth choked out. ‘What Grandad said. This isn’t love. It was never love … 
No!
’ he bellowed suddenly, ripping control back from Marcus, the veins in his neck and on his forehead standing out. ‘It’s
not
true – I won’t do this to her!’

‘Stop it, Marcus!’ I knew it was pointless to beg, but I couldn’t stop myself. The words spilled out, along with my tears. ‘Please stop this.’

‘I’ve hated you,’ Seth said brokenly, his face wretched. He turned his face to the wall, speaking into the painted concrete, refusing to meet my eyes as Marcus tore the truth out from deep inside his heart. His voice cracked. ‘I feel like you took my free will away. I feel like you’ve left me half a person, broken without you. I’ve had nights when I wanted to die. I’ve had nights when I wished
you’d
die, if it meant I could stop feeling like this. I want to be free. I don’t want to hurt like this any more.’ He stopped with a huge effort, his fists clenched against the concrete. When he spoke again, it was through clenched teeth. ‘Anna, don’t listen to me, this is not the truth, it’s
not
how I feel – OK, it’s a tiny part of the truth but …’

He stopped again, his forehead against the rough wall. His shoulders were rising and falling. His breath came quick, like pants of pain. I could see he was fighting Marcus’ will, fighting to keep silent.

‘What else have you got?’ Marcus asked softly. ‘What other secrets have you hidden from her?’

‘Don’t,’ I sobbed. The hot tears scorched my face. I shut my eyes, shutting out the sight of the three of them, broken and bloodied and ashamed.

‘I thought …’ Seth whispered, ‘I thought … when I left I thought that I’d convince you that you were wrong. I thought I’d show you that I
could
walk away…But I didn’t.’ He caught his breath. ‘I only convinced myself. I’ll never be free.’

‘Stop it!’ I screamed.

Seth’s breathing was ragged in the silence of the room.

‘Come on,’ Marcus whispered. ‘Tell her the truth. What do you want? What do you
really
want?’

For a long moment Seth said nothing. Then the words came slowly, jerkily, torn from him by Marcus’ magic.

‘Anna … I want … you … to make … this … stop …’

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back.

The magic pulsed through me like a flame.

I wanted it to stop. I wanted to blast Marcus into bloody cinders and annihilate Tatiana and Danya and and all the others. I wanted to bring this whole mine crashing down on our heads, bury us all, if that was what it took.

But none of that happened.

Instead the sharp pain in my chest exploded into a tearing, gaping agony. A pearl-white drop hovered at the lip of the glass flagon for a fraction of a second – and then it splashed into the jar. And from somewhere outside the room, the sound of a pump started up.

‘No!’ Seth shouted, at the same time as Emmaline wept, ‘Oh, Anna – you fool!’

She lunged towards me, ripping uselessly at her chains as the magic began to flood out of me in great gouts, splashing up inside the glass jar, sending mother-of-pearl reflections dancing and shimmering across the room. And all I could think, above the roar of the pain, and Emmaline’s furious impotent cries, was that it was beautiful. It was astonishingly beautiful.

I could feel it draining out of me, like that time Maya had taken my magic and used it to heal the town of Winter. But this was far faster, far more urgent – the magic was being sucked out of me with a terrible, hungry force, without my consent. I could hear Emmaline’s shouts and cries above the sound of the pump, pleading with me to stop it, to fight it. And I tried to fight – I couldn’t
not
fight. I felt myself convulse helplessly in the shackles, though I knew it couldn’t do any good.

The pump droned on and above its noise I could hear Emmaline’s screams and shouts, sobbing at me, at Marcus, begging him for a mercy he wouldn’t – couldn’t – grant.

But her voice seemed to be drifting away. I could feel my movements becoming weaker. My arms and legs wouldn’t obey me any more.

Now, my fingers were numb. My arms were numb. My feet and legs were numb. I was cold, incredibly cold.

I closed my eyes. Waiting for the end. Waiting for it
all
to end.

Instead there was a grinding, clanking sound and the pump ground to a halt.

Tatiana said something that sounded like swearing in Russian.

‘Marcus, I must mend the pump,’ she said. Then she and Danya ran from the room.

Marcus stood with his arms folded by the door, watching, his foot tapping.

‘For God’s sake, Marcus, it’s not too late …’ I heard Emmaline’s imploring voice, as if from a long way off. ‘You know that, don’t you? It’s not too late. Please
,
for the love of all that’s good,
please
change your mind. She’s your cousin – your own cousin.’

‘Do you really think I’ve come this far, to give up now?’ Marcus said contemptuously.

‘You fucking bastard!’ Em shouted. I heard her voice change from pleading to fury. ‘D’you realize what you’re doing? To your own flesh and blood? Come on, admit it, part of you
must
be ashamed. You haven’t even got the guts to look at me. Look me in the eye and tell me you’re going to do this.’

And, through dim, blurry eyes, I saw Marcus turn slowly, mockingly, to look at her.

Em straightened; there was something in her hand.

She drew her fist back – and flung it.

It glittered as it flew through the air, quick and true. There was a sound like a skewer punching into meat and Marcus gave a roar of anguish. He staggered back, clawing at his face, and I saw the syringe sticking out of his eye socket. Blood was pouring down his face.

‘You mad bitch!’ he screamed.

‘Now!’ Em shouted at Seth, and Seth smashed his cuffs into the rivet on the wall until the white walls were flecked with blood.

‘I can’t,’ he gasped. ‘They’re not … God damn it! … There!’

There was a crack and the chain broke, sending him staggering across the room. He groped along the shelves, searching for something, anything to use as a weapon. A metal box. It clanged horribly as he battered Em’s chains – then he swore and tossed it aside and picked up a metal stand.

‘I’ll try not to hurt you,’ he panted, ‘but there’s not much slack.’

He pushed a leg of the stand through one of the chain links and twisted, groaning with effort.

The chain tightened … tightened. Em screamed involuntarily and Seth faltered, but she sobbed, ‘No! Carry on, I’m OK.’

There was a shriek as the links gave way and she stumbled over to me, wringing at her wrists.

‘Free Abe,’ she ordered Seth over her shoulder, and he nodded and began to lever at Abe’s binding. I felt her hands touch my forehead, cool and smooth. ‘Can you hear me Anna?’

I tried to nod, but my head wouldn’t move. She must have seen something though, for she gave a sob of relief.

‘Can you hold on while I help Seth free Abe and heal his stomach? I’m frightened to touch this.’ She gestured to the tube sticking out of my chest. ‘Abe will know what to do – he’ll know how to get it out of you.’

‘Go,’ I managed and she kissed my cheek and then ran across to Abe.

Marcus was on the far side of the room, staggering along one wall, keening with pain, groping for the door and trying to pull the syringe out of his eye. Feathers prickled across his skin and his nose was suddenly sharp and beaked.

On the other side of the room Em was crouched over Abe, muttering spells. Her face was lit with a fierce flame.

‘Don’t die,’ I heard her voice repeating, beneath Marcus’ panting cries. ‘Don’t die, you bastard. Don’t do this to me, Abe. Come back to me. Oh, Abe – please come back to me. Don’t leave me, I’ll never forgive you. Don’t die.’

And then – Abe’s hand seemed to shake. At the same time, Marcus lashed out with a spell, towards the sound of her voice.

‘I’ll kill you!’ Marcus roared. ‘I’ll kill you all!’

A sheet of flame billowed across the room, towards where Seth was edging round Marcus’ blind side, making for the door. He gasped, beating sparks from his shirt and hair, and Marcus caught the sound, lashing out with a spell that cracked like a whip, sending trays and syringes clattering across the tiled floor. Seth dodged, just in time – and then he reached the door. For a minute I thought he was going to escape, but instead he shot the bolt with his free hand.

What was he doing? Was he mad, shutting us up here with Marcus? Even wounded and half-blind Marcus was more dangerous than Seth could possibly imagine.

But on the other side of the room something was happening. I heard Em’s gasp of relief and a croaking voice: ‘Shove my bloody intestines back in, you stupid woman.’

Abe. His face was grey, his shirt was covered in blood, but somehow he was pulling himself upright. Emmaline pressed her hand to his stomach, her face white and sick – she was physically pushing Abe’s guts back inside him and Abe began to mutter spells, through teeth gritted with pain. To my amazement, he hauled himself to his feet on Emmaline’s arm. His face was haggard, his skin the colour of clay – but he was walking.

And then there was a shuddering, clanking groan – and the pump started up again.

I felt it before I’d realized what it meant – the clattering groan, the dreadful sucking at my heart.

I turned my head, slowly, painfully, to look at the flask.

The splashing, dancing magic had slowed. There was a huge amount there – more than twice what they’d taken from Irina. But now the flood was slowing, just as hers had done before the end. It no longer gushed into the glass flagon, it dripped. Slowly.

Abe hobbled to the chair, supporting himself on Em’s shoulder.

‘Can you get it out of her?’ Emmaline asked frantically. ‘That bloody tube – do you know how to take it out?’

‘Shit.’ Abe looked at the pipes and the nozzle, his face drawn with pain. ‘This isn’t the same set up as they used for me. God! Em, what do I do? Do I just pull? What if I kill her?’

‘Jesus!’ Em cried frantically. ‘Don’t ask me. It’s in her
heart
, Abe. I can see the bones of her ribs. What the hell do we do?’

‘I don’t know!’ Abe ran his hands through his hair in an agony of indecision. ‘If only we had more
time
. But she’s almost gone. Anna!’ He put his hand on my shoulder, his face fierce and frightened. ‘Anna, listen, hang in there, OK? We’re going to get you out of this thing. And then somehow we’ll get your magic back into you. The Ealdwitan will know how, I swear it.’

He looked at the glass flask on its stand, full almost to overflowing with magic. The pump was almost dry. A single drop hovered at the lip of the jar.

But before it could fall, Marcus lashed out again. Jars and bottles smashed to the floor and Abe staggered as a coil of electrical wire struck him on the shoulder. The glass flagon rocked precariously on its stand.

‘Abe!’ Em grabbed his arm, holding him up and then lurched for the flagon of magic, steadying it before it could fall. Behind her I saw Seth reach down and snatch up the tangle of chains from the floor.

The single drop of magic quivered and fell, and the pump sucked and sucked at my heart. The room shivered.

‘Tatiana!’ Marcus roared at the top of his lungs. ‘Help!’

Footsteps in the corridor – running.

And then Seth brought the chains down with all his strength.

Marcus crashed to the floor, enmeshed in the tangle of chains, flinging out curses left and right as he fell. The room began to fill with the black smoke of thwarted magic as he made one last, inhuman effort, his face suddenly dark with feathers, his shoulders hunching into wings. He lifted from the floor, his great black wings flapping uselessly against the encircling chains – and then his magic failed him. He fell back to earth, his head smashing against the concrete with a crack that sounded like he’d broken his skull. Blood began to gather in a dark, glittering pool beneath his head.