The magic contained within Emma was ancient and familiar, yet it held a foreignness that made it clear it was not wholly of this world. I latched onto the bit that belonged to the witch queen, the hot gold ichor that had become contaminated power, filled with rage, hatred, and despair at a life stolen. It was the catalyst that had created this monster. The final act of vengeance cast by extraordinary primal magic. But vengeance belonged to me. I was the source and balance of it. I pulled at it, plucking at the abscessed kernel of goodness walled off from the corrupted soul of the little girl.
I slipped by him and entered first, going preternaturally still as I stepped into the entryway. Where golden light usually filled the castle, today there was a putrid green cast to the air. Dust motes swirled past, seeming to glow in the murky light.
Eros and Atë turn to have a conversation, and Clio and Erebus talk amongst themselves, leaving me standing awkwardly between them. I wish I’d brought my phone, at least then I could pretend to be talking to someone on it and could excuse myself. I consider disappearing to the toilet when a loud bell sounds.
It is like his eyes are looking into my soul. Impossible, right? I notice the glow around him. His aura is jet black, and it drips onto the floor. Unknown? I’ve never seen this before. I blink a few times, placing my hand on my stomach as one of the twins kicks. Danger.