I don't own the Wardstone Chronicles.
Her shoes were especially pointed, but it wasn't exactly like there were horns to match. Then again, she only had half of his blood (not that the other half was any better, for the passages on her and her dad in the Bestiary had been terrifying). Her brown hair was tied back, her brown eyes kind but he recognized the illusion of that.
With a soft click! The knife in his staff retracted. "I do not want to hurt you" he waited a heartbeat, but she only arched an eyebrow and smiled. " But I will if you do not step back".
The way she stepped forward but raised her arms as if in complacency was peculiar. " Stop now!" he warned, but she ignored him. Smiled very slowly.
And then suddenly her hands shot down and there was a thundering and he was thrown backwards. He landed quite hard, enough that his ribs protested, but not hard enough to lose consciousness. Or to be unable to roll away from the pointed shoe that attempted to break his face.
" Stop!" he managed to wheeze. She just chuckled. Raised her shoe again and in a moment of desperation he grabbed it and pulled. She did not resist and he had only a second to wonder 'why?' before she slammed her knee into his stomach. And grabbed his face. She was really close now she looks more sad than evil this close up.
He almost expected her to tear his throat open, but she just looked at him for a long moment. " Who are you?".
" Why would I tell you?".
"Could kill you instead. Would you prefer that?".
He shakes his head. He should be afraid, but he isn't. He is really very calm in fact. " Tom. Thomas actually".
She nods, brushes away a rebellious hair. " Alice. ".
He almost says he knows, but instead forces himself to stay quiet. Just nods once. " Pretty" . He blushes. " Your name- I mean your name".
" Obviously" she smirks. " You're very pretty yourself".
He laughs. " Thanks". She sticks out her tongue. " I meant the name". He just laughs again.
She laughs as well, which leads to this moment where they are just looking at each other mid-laugh. Her brown eyes are lighter when she laughs, her shoulders shake the tiniest bit and she looks nothing like what she is. His heart falls oddly when her laughs start to fade too rapidly , shrinking until there is only a ghost haunting of it at the edge of her mouth. She sighs deeply, bits her lip and-
" NO!" he yells when she reaches for her knife, lightning-quick, and presses it to his throat. His hands shoot upwards, until he is gripping her shoulders. He could probably push her away.
" I just need a little blood" she mutters.
" And you are picking my throat for where you are going to cut me open? ".
She presses the knife a little lower, to his arm. " Better? "
" Not really. What do you need it for?".
She moves the knife on his skin in patterns, not yet pressing enough to make it really bleed. " Ritual. I was actually looking for someone a bit younger, but you will do".
" What ki- " he hisses when the knife presses a little closer to his skin, the cold now replaced by a slight stinging. But he is still not bleeding, he knows.
" Do you always asks a witch this many questions? ".
"Actually you are the first witch I have asked questions like this".
That ghost-smile becomes a little more pronounced. " So I am special, huh?".
" Totally extraordinary".
She lingers for a moment, looking down at the knife that is edging towards one of his veins. He raises his left hand really slowly, touches her hand – waits until she has given him silent permission- then takes her hand. She shudder-sighs. " No one ever touches me" she whispers.
" Don't your parents hug you?".
She looks at him like he has just proposed to feed a feral Lamia. "What? The Devil or the one who derives her nickname from how much people she has turned into skeletons- " she shakes her head. "Don't be daft".
He rubs her hand and she pulls it back, her eyes widening. She arches her back a little, like she is a cat he has thrown water on.
"Sorry. You don't have to do this, you know".
She brings the knife back with a gritting of her teeth. " Yes, I do".
" No, you don't. You don't have to be like your parents. Isn't there anyone who has shown you that it could be better?". Someone must have attempted to help a young girl.
She presses the knife to his skin , exactly one droplet of blood spilling and staining the steel red. She stares blankly at it as she admits " My aunt. She was kind and good and all that, you know? But ain't nothing she could've done when Lizzy decided she was taking me back".
He swallows. The way she says it, he is almost afraid to ask his next question and definitely knows it is a daft one( a dangerous one). " What happened".
She is quiet for a while, studying his blood on her knife. She draws circles, lines, almost like she is drawing in the air above his skin. " She made the light go away. Was dark as you didn't even think possible. My aunt was terrified, but she clutched me towards me and screamed 'not the girl Lizzy! You cannot have her'. But Lizzy just laughed and the door was blown off his hinges, there was thunder and lightning and then someone grabbed my hair and dragged me along". She shrugs. " Haven't been back since".
" And your- " . She interrupts him, scowling and grimacing. "Whenever there is a sabbat, I can talk to him. Has been bothering me to get him here permanently, but- " she laughs bitterly. " Well, I ain't exactly that brainless. And I can lie pretty good".
" So you do know that is bad".
She looks up. He feels like he has swallowed a beehive when he sees her eyes glisten a little. " I suspect. It doesn't feel good" she shakes her head . "But I cannot leave".
She leans back. " Why am I telling you all this?". Her eyes suddenly start to harden and his skin tingles and burns a little as she presses the knife more into it . He understand he has to be quick or – " Same reason I did not use my chain" he blurts out and her eyes glide over his body until – the knife falls and her nails cut into his stomach when she pulls his shirt up and rips it a little.
Then yanks her hands away: there are already blisters on her fingers.
" You – " she seems to grapple for words for a moment, her mouth opening and closing. Then she basically snarls and the expression is so entirely ugly and hateful that she finally looks the part. " are a spook ? "
" In training- technically and- ouch!" he protest when she suddenly picks up the knife and makes a scratch.
" Shut up, you egg" .
" that is the best you- ouch! Seriously, stop it".
" No" she hisses and he grabs her hand when she goes to make another scratch. She is trembling, he realizes. " Why? Why do you hate us? ".
" Why- " her laugh is saturated with incredulity. He stares at her when she starts to pull up her shirt, his eyes closing for a moment. " Open your eyes!" she commands, prodding his chest. He fights for a moment , but finally opens them.
His eyes slide to the left, to a mark that has been filled in before gliding to the right and – he stares in horror at the pattern of burns on her hip and part of her stomach, at the perfect little round in the middle of it all. " Needles. That is how they started. But they used fire after!"
"We don't- " .
" Yes you do! You burns us, throw our hearts to dogs, anything to keep us from returning" .
" No, no! I would never" his eyes are stinging when he bows his head and pleads with her. " I would never Alice, especially not to someone like you!".
"Someone like me?"
" Someone like you. That's why I didn't use my chain" he only realizes this now, but he is sure of it. Instinct. "because I knew you weren't like the others. You've some good in you".
" The daughter of the Devil and one of the most evil- ".
" The girl who did not really want to hurt me".
She finally gets off him and he kinds of misses her weight. Her shirt slides down again, hiding all that awful past from him. She studies him with weary eyes. " You really are daft, aren't you?"
" Then you must be daft as well" he says with a little grin, pushing himself up with less pain than expected. Still stings though.
" I am not daft, reckon I am lots smarter than you!"
"Big words for such a scrawny girl".
" You are more scrawnier than I will ever be".
He shrugs. They just sit together for a while, looking at each other every now and then. When he sees the guardedness, the weariness, the slightest distrust, he touches the chain around his middle. She stills and he can see her eyes become obsidian but they widen and there is a slow smile growing when he loosens the chain and throws it behind him.
She laughs. " You really are daft!" she says with something very much like delight.
" We probably both are".
She gestures at herself. " I am still armed".
" About that- ".
She starts to stand and he jumps to his feet. " He! Where are you going?".
" Got to go back to the coven. Or they will come looking… ".
" Okay, but – "
She hesitates, scratches her arm. " This is a pretty spot.." .
He smiles. Grins really. " Is it?".
"Apart from your face – ".
" You already called that pretty, actually".
" Yes. So I will probably go here tomorrow".
" What a coincidence. So am I".
She sighs " Cannot keep ya away, can I?".
" No, this is my spot".
"Fine. Till then, daft boy".
He offers her his hands before she can walk away. She stares at it in mystery. "Friends?". She waits and waits, till his muscles are kind of straining and he is blushing, then grips it. " Friends".
She grins at him. "We really are daft".
He grins back. She slowly lets his hand go, then punches him in the shoulder. He rubs his shoulder. " What was that for? ".
She wriggles her fingers, and the burns makes his world narrow to she is hurt, hurt, hurt. " For that. Be more careful with your toys next time".
They just stare at each other for a while before she nods as if making a decision and turns to walk away. "Alice!" he calls and she turns one last time. Arches an eyebrow. He smiles. " It was nice meeting you".
Oddly , he means it. Oddly enough, she clearly means it too when she smiles almost shyly and replies " Same. Tomorrow, daft boy".
"Tomorrow" he repeats and it is the best word ever (and possibly the worst idea).