Chapter 10

She ran through violet mist, darker violet than Kierlan's eyes, almost black. Forest branches crashed against her, slashing her like slender knives until she just wanted to curl up and die, bleeding from all these wounds.

Then Kierlan was there, his hands glowing violet with healing magic. But his eyes…were the dark violet of the mist. Terrified, she got to her feet, stumbling back into the forest, barely avoiding the gnarled roots of trees and the holes from where animals dug their burrows.

"Sarah!" Kierlan called distantly, sounding concerned. But she didn't want him to be near, she just ran faster, harder, like a dark sylph through the forest, her feet sinking deeper and deeper into puddles of oozing black mud that sucked at her, trying to pull her down into its depths. And Kierlan's voice died away.

But she couldn't get free of the mud. She started screaming for help, her clothes clinging muddily to her. The sky crashed and rain poured down, drowning her, the mud rising higher and higher, past her waist, she tried to swim through it, but it was thick as glue… sobbing, she screamed louder, as loud as she could, until her voice was hoarse and sore.

"Here." Blade reached down from the tree that towered over her, kneeling on its thickest branch, and grabbed her wrist.

"Blade!" she sobbed, clinging to him like a last hope.

"Here!" Kierlan skidded to a stop by the edge of this unnatural swamp, and tossed out a rope that landed within her reach. Blade kept holding her hand, but had frozen. "Which of us shall save you?" he asked, like it was a normal day. Her fingers felt slippery against his skin. She reached out for the rope, but Kierlan stood still too, watching her sadly.

Then the rope wasn't rope. It was silver thread. A silver cord between them. Desperation swelled in her, bewildered. Blade still had his hand wrapped around her wrist. She still held the cord. Despairing, she couldn't choose.

"Let me choose for you, then." With infinite sadness in his amber eyes, Blade let go of her wrist and she fell, plunging back into the drowning black mud. And the cord slipped from her grasp. Floundering, she fought to get to the surface, suffocating and weighed down by the heavy black mud.

Distantly, she felt arms wrap around her, pulling her up to the surface, towing her back to the bank, up onto the soggy land. "Breathe," Kierlan urged, kissed her, breathing magic into her lungs, like warm meadow air that surged through her like electricity, forcing feeling into her again.

Gasping, she woke up. And Kierlan was there. She lay on her floor.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She knew he meant far more in those words. "So you should be," she said softly, breathlessly, shuddering hard.

"I got into your dream," Kierlan said apologetically. "I didn't mean to. Honestly. I heard you fall from your bed, and pretty much…" he shrugged. "Rushed in." She laughed softly, disbelieving at this feeling of déjà vu, and picked up her duvet, untwisting it and laying it back on her bed.

"I honestly didn't mean to say it in front of Blade," Kierlan said earnestly. "I mean, I don't think I did…I just got angry. I eman, I suppose I was eavesdropping, so it's my fault, but I wouldn't have said it in front of him. I guess, when I touched you, it made me lose my senses…"

"You're not talking very much sense," Sarah said brusquely, sitting on the edge of her bed, shivering. Kierlan timidly sat beside her, then smiled weakly. "Sheesh. You scare me, Sarah Strange. You snap like a wolf."

"Thank you," she said sarcastically.

"I like wolves," he said quietly, as calmly as he could. "It's no insult."

"What the heck were you talking about?" she asked harshly. "Eavesdropping on me? When?"

"In the club," he said quietly. "I listened to that guy…Lance? Reading your palm. And I heard…" his throat constricted with the effort of saying this. "You said you hated me. That I'm obnoxious. Self-centred. I make you unhappy."

"So far, you've managed to make my boyfriend—probably ex-boyfriend by now—miserable," she said coolly. "You've almost killed me with witchfire. You've insulted my best friend. I can't imagine why you make me unhappy."

"I'm sorry," he said, lowering his eyes. "I don't want a Soulmate either."

"Bit late for that," she retorted.

"Seeing as I might not even live," he shrugged, looking away, towards the window. "Four less one and darkness triumphs. He's right. I die, and leave a Soulmate behind. I don't want anyone grieving for me."

Doing good so far, snapped the cruel part of her mind.

"And I don't want to care for someone else if we should lose anyway," he continued feverishly. "But it's too late. I think about you, no matter what. It's messing with my magic. I need to be able to control my magic, especially when it comes to…saving the world. That stuff. And you…you drive me…and my magic…crazy."

She thought of the misty heart shape, her own heart sinking. "You drive me crazy too," she said softly, as though her tongue wasn't connected to her brain.

The sadness in his eyes darkened to something desperate as she said that. He suddenly, leaned forward, sliding his hand around her neck, kissing her lips with an urgency, like his last chance. And the hate receded to the back of her mind, as his desperation crept into her mind, the silver cord gripping her like chains as she kissed him back, more important than breathing, as they fell back against the bed, his body on hers, his lips on hers, everything else receding but him and her.