Chapter 18

Dust tickled her nose and Emma sneezed herself awake. Stretching and yawning, she stumbled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. After dealing with the most urgent task, she went through the usual routine of cleaning her teeth. Bleary-eyed, she stared in the mirror, seeing scarecrow hair, fluffy white clouds of toothpaste around her lips, and the face of an eight-year-old girl. Her brows drew down. That seemed… wrong. She tried to follow that thought but it drifted away, and she shrugged, deeming it unimportant.

She grabbed a white shirt from the wardrobe, then found the grey pleated skirt flung on top of a chair piled with books and soft toys. As she zipped up the skirt, an unfamiliar book caught her eye. She grabbed it, noting the new stiff spine; that was weird because she read all her books immediately and often. The title of the book, The Last Flight, was embellished in gold across the top of the cover, and below an elf rode a griffin which had a crooked tail. Tears stung her eyes and at the same time, she felt as though she'd lost something of immense importance, or perhaps someone?
Confused at the tears and the sense of loss, Emma swiped at her eyes, grabbed her school bag and popped in the new book. She'd be able to get in some reading during breaks and lunch. Halfway down the stairs, she looked up and saw the front door. Fear, unlike anything she'd felt before struck her like a lightning bolt. A tingling sensation ran up her arm, but she merely shook it, unable to tear her gaze away from the front door. Or rather, what stood on the other side. A silhouette loomed across the dark hallway. She frowned, surely it had been bright down there. She'd been getting ready for school, so of course, it had to be morning. Yet the only light coming through the frosted glass panels was a yellow synthetic light, a streetlamp. Something niggled at Emma's mind. This is wrong! You don't belong here! But it couldn't get through to her terrified young brain. Her hand gripped the banister, the only sound her rough breathing. Then the silence shattered under the heavy hammering of the door knocker.

"Go away." The words were forced through a petrified throat. She backed away and found that the stairs had disappeared. She frowned, looking down at the beige carpet beneath her feet. Surely, she had been stood on the stairs only a second ago? What was going on?
Emma gripped at this question as she would a life jacket. Yes, something was very wrong. She had been in…
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The door knocker rang through the empty house breaking her train of thought. Tears trickled down her face as she backed away from that ominous silhouette. She turned and ran blindly down a hallway with no end, the shadow close, the door ready to give way under the metallic banging.
"Go away."
She ran, panting, sweating.
"GO AWAY!" She turned to check if the door still held, then tripped and fell. A grunt of air left her as she sprawled on the carpet. Near her outstretched hand lay a book, The Last Flight. The elf seemed to beckon to her.
"This isn't real." The words, though softly spoken, drowned out the hammering. At the sound of the voice, her heart calmed, her laboured breathing eased, and Emma knew she'd found safety.

She stood up, once more a woman of 26 and reached out her hands. "I can't see in this darkness. Help me." She didn't know to whom she spoke, only that she trusted the person with her life and her heart.
Warm, strong hands took hold of hers and pulled her into a hug. "You're safe now, love. It's all right."
She nodded, too choked up to speak, and took respite in his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. "Aedan, your timing is perfect."
"I told you I'd come for you, Angel." She swallowed back a sob and just rested her head against his chest, feeling the reassuring beat of his heart. At length, she asked, "Have you found the others yet?"
He shook his head. "Not yet, I..." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "It's strange but I could have sworn I heard you calling for help and then suddenly I was here."
Emma gasped. "Well, that's odd because I heard your voice though I couldn't remember you, and then I asked for help and then I was in your arms." She looked as if she would say more, but a shimmer surrounded her.
"Emma?" He tightened his hold but she was disappearing before his eyes.
"It's okay, Aedan. Find the others and I'll see you soon."

When she reappeared she was fully dressed, her staff in hand and surrounded by her companions. Aedan stood at the front of the group, his blades glinting dangerously, ready to lead them in a revolt against the sloth demon. Emma felt a wave of renewed energy, a surge of magic that vibrated throughout her body, and underlying that burned a simmering rage, a blazing ball of anger that sat low in her stomach; a means to cleanse the fear from her mind. So she fanned the flames until she shook with the intensity of it. A cool hand wrapped around her wrist. "Let the anger go, child. That path will only lead to the loss of your soul."
She pulled away, trying to free her hand. She needed this anger, needed to feel the power flow through her veins.

"Emma!" The sharp tone cut through the red haze blanketing her mind. She blinked, seeing Wynne's grim face in front of her. "You can't let it control you, else you will be lost to us," Wynne turned her head, glancing over her shoulder at Aedan. "To him. Do you want that?"
Emma felt the heat of her rage slowly die away. "No, I... I don't want to hurt him."
Wynne's features softened. "Good. Take control of your anger, use it in the fight ahead, but don't let it take over."

Emma lowered her head, an acknowledgement to Wynne, but also to take a moment to look inside herself, to find that rage and rein it in. She thought it would be difficult, but once she'd made a conscious decision to control her emotions, everything slipped easily into place leaving her mind calm and remarkably clear. She memorised that feeling, and held it close to her heart, so that if she ever felt herself slipping she could reach for it easily, like putting on a pair of comfortable socks. She lifted her head, and Wynne smiled. "Much better. Now let's end this vile creature."