Yay, a chapter that's of the next! blink dont ask.
thank you for the reviews!
"She's not my sister, you know." I mutter lowly, lowering my gaze in spite of my daring. Yes, in my thoughts, speaking at all to these vagrants is daring.
Daemon raises an eyebrow. "Well, then, does that mean I can slice her open after all?" This is the last straw. I refuse to let Marin hear such crude language. Especially when it involves slicing her open, as if she were a beast to be slaughtered for a feast.
"I am not frightened of you, for the ghosts of those you have murdered are not trophies to be shown off, but things of shame that help me pity you. This girl is naught but a child, and I will not allow such verbal abuse in my presence." And I stalk off, dragging Marin tightly by the arm, just in case she takes a liking to that wretched man.
"I've never killed anyone as of yet, so your informant is somewhat mistaken!" cries Daemon after us. I don't look back.
"Vivaaaaanne," Marin cries heatedly. "I wanted to stay with the big man! He looks like Father." Tears are running down her face, making pale paths amid the dirt smudged all over her face.
"Harold isn't your father. You're father is dead. Just like mine." I say this nastily, and the comment is intended to sting. I take it from the way Marin suddenly stops, that her mother never told her. I should never have opened my gob and said such an insensitive thing.
"Look, I'm kidding, Marin." I immediately try to cover up the sudden truth. "Of course Harold is-"
"How did he die, Vivanne?" Her eyes are looking up at mine. Strangely, they're drier than they were before. Marin is strange girl, always has been. Maybe in the struggle of growing up as a girl when she deserves to be treated like a boy, she has grown up too quickly in some aspects.
"Harold isn't dead." I reply firmly. Marin and I silently stare at each other, with each of us knowing my lie. Please, Mother Of All, help me take it back. Make her forget. But Mother ignores my prayers. After a lengthily silence, Marin nods slightly, turns, and leaves me standing there, feeling like a complete fool. I did more damage than those two men could have ever done.
So I eventually turn to head back to the Society building. When I reach the entrance, my mother and Danielle are standing on the steps. While they try to act infuriated by my departure, they are simply glowing.
"I take it Cinders did not make it."
"Was there ever a doubt in your mind?" Mother replies brightly as she links our arms to hers as we walk to our carriage. Danielle and my mother are practically skipping their way to the carriage.
Yes, there had been a doubt in my mind. In fact, in my near hatred of my mother, it had almost become a hope.
Cinders is shivering in her bed, and I approach carefully. Cinders never takes pleasure in receiving aid for anything, and I stopped along ago attempting to help her with her tasks. But she hasn't even gotten up this morning. The Goddess been blocked out of the room with curtains drawn tightly. Cinders is rarely up later than noon, unlike my dear mother.
"Cindy? Are you alright, sister?" She glances at me for a moment, but her eyes seem to be looking past me. "He's hurting me, V- Mommy. Won't you stop it?" She reaches out with a trembling hand but-
I push away from the bed, as her hand is made of an intense fire. I don't want it near me. The thought of her touch brings a sick taste to my throat. "I'll get Mother," I manage to gasp as a retreat so rapidly from her that I almost trip over my own feet.
Who is this he? I'm beginning to reconsider getting Mother. She might, or might not, get a doctor, but either way, witches will be the prime suspects in this crime. But there haven't been burnings in several generations. I don't want it to start now, because of a silly fever.
"Mother?" I whisper as I push open the heavy door, which acts as an entrance into my mother's room.
It's dark in the room, and I see that the fire isn't lit yet. I glance at the dormant form of my mother—she's gotten rather large lately—to see if she's awake yet. It's better if she thinks that Cinders lit the fire. I tiptoe towards the fireplace. "Cinders?" I freeze; glad I thought to partially close the door.
My mother doesn't wait for a response. "Forget the fire today. If I feel I really need it, I'll do it myself."
This is so unlike my mother I pause, staring at her incredulously. She can't completely tell my expression, obviously, but from my stance she seems to get all the information she needs. "I don't keep you here to judge my decisions, Cinders. Go. Do the rest of your chores and don't linger." This shocks me into action. My mother never speaks like this, even to her least favorite daughter. Me.
I back out of the room rapidly, breathing deeply. Was Cinders's life really this tough? My mind lingers on these thoughts as a return to Cinders's room. I peak through the doorway to see in what condition she's in. She lies as if lifeless, her skin pale and dark skins beneath her eyes. The dilemma is, is this a result of her illness or of my mother's cruelty?
This is turning into a strange day, I think to myself as I walk down the stairs. Though, I suppose I will get myself a bit of normalcy when go meeting with Jacob and Jason later in the day, so I have that much to look forward to. There is something in the back of my mind that is aggravating me. I know something is wrong in my household. Something new.
I can almost smell it. The sensation is tickling my nose and the tips of my fingers. It sparks and hisses in the back of my head like some sort of background sound. Is Cinders meddling with things she really shouldn't? It wouldn't surprise me. I would meddle with anything at all to escape the hell my mother is creating for Cinders.
But magic is a dangerous thing to mess with. Magic temples are all but extinct, and those that do exist are hidden well. Magic is one goddess whose kingdom is limited. And in times where belief in the Mother is dwindling, the people that even believe in Magic are almost as extinct as the goddess's temples.
The day passes like this. As I clean the stables, the stench seems to be blown away by the light breeze and I breathe a bit easier. That is until dinner is to be served and I go into the kitchen to supervise the cook. Ever since the last cook tried to 'poison' my mother, she is absolutely paranoid about her food. She's even got a food taster.
Well, the reek of magic- for I know this is what it is now- makes me step back from the kitchen. I cover my nose, and look up at the kitchen for is causing disturbance. Cinders is sitting a small stool, her elbows on the counter, watching the cook mix something in a large bowl. She looks well enough, compared to how she looked the morning before.
However, when she turns her head, the scent diminishes, and I can uncover my nose, so as to speak to her intelligently. "Cinders, what are you doing out of bed?" Her eyes have deep bags over them, and even flashing me a small smile seems more than she can achieve.
"Oh, well, you did me good turn. It seemed reasonable if I returned the favor." I'm about to shake my head when I see her eyes flash with an odd light, right before the stench hits me straight in the face, causing me to fall backwards.
Its then I know that my stepsister isn't meddling in magic. She's practically swimming in it.
She approaches me, her face concerned. How she can show such distress when she did it on purpose! I push her away in my rush to escape her. When my hand comes in contact with her, a large shock flows through my arms, numbing them. I cry out in surprise, but I manage to get to my feet without touching her again.
Without glancing back, I rush out of the house, shoving the doors open with my shoulders. I run as swiftly as I can from the memory of what she did back there. I run until my legs give out from under me, and are as useless as my numb arms.
Unfortunately, pretty soon my arms aren't numb anymore. They're throbbing with pain. I crawl to a wall, whimpering at every movement I make. I could not make a coherent thought if my life depended on it.
I don't hear the footsteps approaching, nor do I hear the short argument. I barely feel the arms picking me up. What I do feel is the pressure on my arms, and the feeling of sharp knives cutting up my arms.
The noises that began small begin growing in volume as the pain increases. What is happening? I've touched Cinders before. What is going on? The pain is excruciating, and even after trying to silence myself by biting my lip, I begin to scream.
It leaves as quickly as it came upon me. Wiping the tears I hadn't felt from my eyes, I look around to find myself in a small room, where swords line the walls, and books litter the desk in the corner. "Finally," a familiar voice behind me mutters.
I turn, and I see the two guards from today, the speaker sitting in a chair, looking uninterested and impatient. The other man, mostly hidden in the shadows, stands next to his companion, and seemingly ignores him. "Are you well, lady?" No one has ever called me lady before.
I nod my head gently, expecting the pain to return any minute. I want to be out of here before then. I didn't know these men, and my mother had taught me enough for me to know that being the dark with two strange men would be a dangerous thing for a girl.
"Okay, now that we've got that topic covered, I was thinking that maybe we deserve a reward of some kind-"
My head and the head of the dark man both turn towards Daemon. "-like a chaste kiss, perhaps? Mother of All, did you both think I would ask her to suck me or something?" He takes our silence for ashamed yielding. "May a far dorocha take you both!" He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.