Ira

I stood as a witness

Watching.

Waiting.

They came as an army of ten thousand, their silent screams of agony the beat of the drum to which they marched. Their deaths I too had stood witness for but now they would return. They rose from the darkness of in-between, bound to this hell that had been their home by a master that did not exist. Their pale faces and empty eyes familiar in the way of those once known but forgotten, I watched them approach.

They came.

And they came...

And they came...

And they just...

Kept...

Coming...

Crowed around me...

Suffocating me...

I had to get out ...

I screamed...

And screamed...

But there was no one to hear me, still, I screamed.

A familiar presence took hold and pulled me away from the vision. It caressed my cheek and patted my head and rubbed my arms to soothe the panic.

I stopped screaming.

"Be calm child, they are here"

I knew that voice...

We will take care of you child" it said surrounding me whispering in my ear as I sank into its comforting embrace. "It is time for you to rest now"

I awoke with muddled thoughts. Confused, I tried to remember what happened. There was something important I was supposed to remember. Hazy faces danced just out of reach, while other memories returned with startling clarity.

The ball, River, the mage.

And him.

I jerked up, my heart racing with remembered panic, and froze.

He sat in a chair next to the door as thou guarding it. And seeing him, really seeing him- with my own eyes, He seemed different. Gone was the predator from before, in his place a relaxed Uriel watched me with deceptive calm. Before I'd been too shocked to really take him in but now it was hard to look away. He was striking in the way wild things were, the sharp edges of his face harsh and rugged. The red of his hair was darker than I remembered but his eyes were the same cold emeralds I was hauntingly familiar with. A strange, crystalline powder glinted along the cords of his neck and coated his shoulders like fairy dust, yet his bloody clothes were the only sign of the brutal massacre I'd witnessed. If not for the piercing gaze locked unwaveringly on me, I would have thought him someone else entirely. But he was too relaxed, and something feral lurked behind that calm.

No, not gone I thought, just hiding.

He didn't seem inclined to break the silence, so I took a good look at the room as I waited. A map of the word was spread out across one wall. It looked old, the paper weathered to an aged yellow and with borders Russia would have a fit over. Aside from the bed where I'd been placed a tall dresser was the only furniture to speak of and half hid a second door. The space felt clean but unused. Aside from the map, there was nothing on the walls. There was nothing personal to show someone lived here and the child-like art I'd come to associate with this place was noticeably absent, making questions buzz around my head.

"Where Am I?" I asked. and why am I not dead?

"Somewhere safe." His answer was too sharp to be completely casual.

"Are you a mage?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"You don't look like one." I pointed out.

"Perhaps I wear a glamor"

"Glamor?"

His eyes narrowed, a dangerous edge glinting in them and he tilled his head like a curious cat. "Who is your master?"

"My master?" Graces I sounded like a freaking parrot. "I don't have a ..." I paused testing the title "a master"

His eyes dropped to my hands "Then who bound you?"

Feeling self-conscious I hugged my arms close. "no one."

"The Skyglass, who gave it to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, no one-"

"DON'T..." he snapped making me jump "don't lie. We might look like monsters, but we have rules, and someone would have to be very careless to give that much power to a girl without binding her. So, I'll ask: did you take Skyglass?"

No was on the tip of my tongue that wasn't true. At the barn. The mage with the star lights that tasted of death.

"Yes" I breathed

"Who gave it to you?"

"I don't know. It was a party, and we were drunk."

"I See."

Was that disapproval I heard? Irritation sparked to life. Who was he to judge? He killed people, but I couldn't be a freaking normal high schooler and get drunk for one night. anger made my words sharp. "Why didn't you just kill me?"

"You're too valuable to kill."

Dread rolled in my stomach. "What does that mean?"

"there's a very enticing price on your head, I'd be a fool to just cut it off."

"Is that why you're keeping me here?"

A grim smile stretched across his face. "Something like that"

"What do they want with me?"

He shrugged. "that's their business, and if your smart you'll learn to stop asking so many questions."

"I think I have the right to know what's going to happen to me."

"In this world, the only rights you get are the ones you take." A dark shadow crept over the wildness stealing its brightness "even if it means taking them from someone else."

"Are you saying I have to force it out of you?"

"You're welcome to try." The smile he gave me then was the same one from the dreams, the same smile he'd given those mage just before he killed them. I was smart enough to swallow back the biting remark that came to mind.

Instead, I asked, "What happens now?"

He shrugged again as if he really couldn't have cared less.

"Do I get to use a real toilet or am I stuck in here until you decide what to do with me?"

"I'm not a savage." He sounded almost amused. Eyeing the dark stains coating his clothes I would have begged the differ. Nodding to the other door, he stood to his full height sending a cloud of diamond dust drifting to the ground "There is a bath in there and you stink of them."

I winced unsure if his disgust was more for me or the smell. Glancing down at the ruined mess of my dress I decided a bath couldn't hurt. Tentatively sliding out of the bed I took a few careful steps to the bathroom. Eyeing the inside, I wasn't sure what I was expecting but an 1800s-style bathroom wasn't it. A large clawfoot tube took up one wall and a toilet and sink had been crammed into the remaining space. with some relief, I saw there were no mirrors.

"Towels are above the sink," Uriel said just over my shoulder making me jump at his closeness. I shrank away, his presence oppressive in the tiny space, but he was already moving past me. He pulled open yet another door before the question fell from my lips.

"You're leaving me alone?"

He paused to give me a quick once over. "Would you rather I stay and watch?"

"No" I shuddered as memories of someone else's life fluttered through my head, reminding me he could do things far worse than watching if he chose to and I'd never be able to stop him.

"Then clean yourself." He commanded and added almost as if it was an afterthought "if you try to drown yourself, I'll make you wish you'd died." Then the door clicked shut.

I didn't bother waiting to relive myself. As soon as I was done, I stripped, letting the dirty clothes fall where they may, before stepping into the tub. It took some fiddling with the handles to get running water but no matter which way I turned them all I got was icy cold. For a moment I wondered what would happen if I sank below the water and just stayed there. Uriel's warning whispered through my head but not even he could bring the dead back to life. A memory flitted just out of reach. Something about the dead, something important, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, and I was already starting to shiver. Afraid Uriel would return and decide maybe he did want to watch I gave up on a warm bath and used the soap sitting in a dish on the corner of the sink to scrub at my skin. As I cleaned, I noticed the tender new pink skin where gapping wounds should have been. Nina's doing, or Uriel's? And why?

I was completely numb by the time I finished scrubbing all the blood and dirt off and the thin worn towels I found in the cabinet did little to warm me but at least I was clean. I found a stack of folded clothes on the bed and quickly slipped into them. I had to roll the waistband of the pants to keep them from slipping off and the shirt almost reached my knees, but I was covered and wouldn't have to wear that dress. I debated keeping the bra that went with it, but I couldn't stand the thought of putting anything back on that had to do with that night.

Cautiously, I crept out of the room. I expected to find Uriel standing guard again, but the hall was empty. Painted walls greeted me, confirming what I already knew; it was her home that he'd brought me to. Following the hushed voices and soft spices down the hall, it felt like I was walking through a dream. Everything was the same, the books everywhere, the painted walls, even the crooked couch. I touched a purple giraffe peering around the corner and wondered why.

Why did he bring me here?

Somewhere safe he'd said but the question still haunted me; Safe from what?

I found them in the kitchen. As they talked back and forth in Spanish, I watched them, the way they moved around each other like they'd been doing it for a thousand years. When the little girl reached for a jar on the top shelf, he wordlessly held out a hand to help her step up onto the counter before returning to the vegetables he was cutting. The ease with which she used him made my chest ache. I missed that kind of familiarity, the comfort of a parent with their child, but it's hard to be familiar with someone you didn't know anymore and even if dad wasn't gone, he wasn't the same without mom.

"Are going to join us?" Uriel said in English, and it took me a second too long to realize he was talking to me. He turned to give me a condescending look, loosely holding the knife he had been chopping with. "Or do you prefer to watch?"

I winced. Great now I was the one being a pervert.

"Sorry I'm not used to actually being ..." I stopped before I told him here. I didn't think admitting that would go over well. I was saved from the question I knew was coming next by Nina. She turned at the sound of my voice, eyes wide and mouth open in an expression of what could only be described as awe.

"¡Estas despierta!" she breathed. (you're awake)

"Englis," Uriel told her returning to his chopping.

"¿por qué?"(why)

He gave her a look "Don't be rude"

She made a face but asked me "are you really from New York?" I glance at Uriel. I shouldn't have been surprised he knew more about me than he'd let on, but I hadn't expected him to tell her.

"I am"

"Have you ever been to the lady?" She asked seeming excited now.

"Yeah, my mom took me once when I was eight."

"Oh," disappointment damped her excitement. "I don't have a mom." She didn't seem bothered by that fact, but Uriel's knife twitched, and I wondered what the story was there. A lost lover perhaps? Or was it a killer's remorse that had made him her caretaker? "Maybe yours can take me."

"She's gone now," I said flatly.

Sadness crept into her voice when she asked. "Did the bad men kill your mom too?"

Swallowing back the lump in my throat and watched Uriel's back. No doubt he knew about that too. "Yeah, bad men killed her too." He didn't even pause, just slide the vegetables into the pot of bubbling water but the tilt of his head told me he was listening closely.

"Do you want food?" she asked and suddenly I envied her. She lived in this perfect simple world, where all that was wrong could be forgotten as easily as eating a hot meal. Bitterness drew sharp words to my tongue, but my stomach growled reminding me I hadn't eaten since before the ball, and ashamed, I bit back the retort that sprang to life.

Some food would be good

"Sure, how can I help."

"Set the table." Uriel used his knife to point to one of the cabinets and I tentatively entered the kitchen. Giving him a wide berth, I pulled it open to find two bowls, two plates, and two cups stacked neatly inside. Pullin out the bowls I was painfully aware there wasn't enough for all of us. It was a subtle reminder that I didn't belong here, and if the deadly look he gave me over Nina's shoulder was anything to go by, Uriel knew it just as well I as did.

Setting the table was such a normal thing to do, it made me uneasy. I couldn't help but feel like the other shoe was about to drop and Uriel's silent watching didn't help. Nina's constant chatter was a welcome distraction, but I could feel Uriel's eyes drilling into me as she spoke. Still, Nina seemed content to fill the quiet left by our silence. All she needed was a few encouraging noises and a question here or there. Apparently, she was a self-taught cook and Martha Stewart was her idol. She liked to read but Uriel rarely ever brought her new books, and she hated the color blue, but not blue like my eyes. "cuz those are too pretty to hate" she told me.

Soon enough the food was ready.

To my surprise, Uriel offered me the other bowl after Nina had served herself far too much for a little girl's stomach. Warily, I accepted the proffered food and I slid into a chair while Nina took the other and Uriel leaned against the counter to observe me take a cautious bite. A rainbow of flavor burst across my tongue and familiar spices blended with rich vegetables to make a savory soup that was both warm and satisfying.

"This is really good," I mumbled around a mouthful and Nina beamed.

"Uri helped me pick everything. The lemons are hard to reach sometimes. Do they have lemons in New York?"

They were the first of a long list of questions.

I told her what I could. It was hard to avoid talking about my family when telling her about the sleepless city where Id lived most of my life but those weren't memories I cared to relive, not now -not ever. So instead, I told her about the park and cops on horses. And in an act of self-preservation, I resorted to Mama Tullie's pizza when I ran out of the things that weren't too personal to talk about. The distraction worked because next, she was asking what pizza was and had me describe it in detail while I tried to ignore the oddity of explaining pizza to a six-year-old.

"We have to make some." She told Uriel who had listened to our conversation without comment.

He flicked a glance at the door but murmured "of course."

"Can we do it now?"

"No"

She made a face at him but said to me "He never lets me do anything fun."

"We did just eat," I said not entirely sure why I was defending him.

"So? She seemed honestly confused by why having just eaten would prevent us from making another meal. I glanced at Uriel, but it didn't look like he was going to explain.

Uncomfortable with the lag in conversation I stood taking my bowl and spoon with me only to pause when I realized I had no idea what to do with them. Nina hopped off her chair "I'll take those." She said grabbing the dishes from me and ducking under my arm. Surprised I made to step out of her way but only succeeded in bumping into her instead.

Uriel lounged for us a fraction of a second too late, but I felt the dread wash over just as the world morphed.

Fields of flowers bobbed in the breeze, row after row of bright blossoms growing proud in the sun but a patch of death marred the hills, a dark scare gouged into the earth by a darkness that should not be. Tucked between two peaks a tree stood guard at the entrance of hell its branches brittle and rotten to the core. He emerged from the dark pit carrying his precious cargo close. he carried her to the fields, where the shadows could not touch her. They had stolen her youth and broken her mind, but she had fought to live. Had fought to feel the warmth of the sun on her fragile skin. So, he had brought her here, outside, so that she could see the sky one last time. But she was too broken, and they had been taken too much.

Children should not die of age.

And he was tired.

He delt in death every day but he was so tired. He did not want this life. He did not want her to die. Not like this. Not as a child trapped in a shriveled old women's body. Not as a broken promise of what should have been.

'Please" he begged whatever entity might hear. "Let her live. Take me instead."

We did not answer for his sake, nor for hers. But for all who would come after; we could grant this wish.

All it took was a nudge to spark a thought, a thought that became an idea given life by his hands. If his touch could take so much, surely it could give. So, he took her crippled hands in his and held them tight.

And pushed.

Everything he had, he poured into her. Filling the emptiness of her hollow shell, he gave back what had been stolen. But it wasn't enough. His soul was fractured, and death demanded balance. So, he called to the earth and the forests far off. He called to the sky over this land and the seas beyond. In answer, the trees bowed and the flowers around them welted as they let their essence flow through him and into her, irrevocably tying them together.

For her, they would die.

Because for her, he must live.