Chapter 8 What Dark Fate

• I surrendered to following Mathis’ voice through the woods. Despite that I didn’t trust him and thought he was the bearer of all things evil, I wasn’t really sure how to get out of Warlock Wood and it seemed like following his directions was more promising then guessing and ending up lost and never found in these woods as I’d heard so many had before.
• Not a fate I desire. Chewing my cheep and walking reluctantly I followed his whispers. Telling me when to turn right and when to peek left.
• Like some twisted trust exercise. Which is truly what I felt this was.
• Soon the trees peeled apart and revealed a series of stones. Laid out like low benches around a long bit of tree trunk which was cut in half. Exposing the pale wood in the center. Swirled with intricate knotholes and carved deeply with symbols I didn’t recognize. I fingered one of them and upon merely touching it I felt such immense shivering of energy rippling through me that I jerked my hand back as though burned. Feeling like the earth quaked beneath me.
• I gasped. Looking around. “What is this?”
• ‘There’ll come a time you’ll end up here. They all do…’He laughed coldly.
• From wherever he is.
• “I won’t be part of your twisted games!” I shouted.
• ***
• I felt a hand drop to my shoulder and nearly leapt from my skin. I twisted around with a hiss and stumbled sideways. Falling on my palm. I peered up at my father terrified. It took me a moment to register it was him.
• Not Mathis.
• Pa was staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. I looked around and realized that nearly everyone in the Trader’s Market was.
• How’d I get here? I caught my father’s hand. Clutching it desperately.
• “How’d I get here?” I whispered up to him.
• “Stand up, Gel.” He was looking around in panic. He caught my wrist and was trying to tug me to my feet. “Before someone thinks ye possessed.”
• I hesitantly let father yank me up my wrist.
• He tucked me under his arm. Catching my forehead with his palm and ducking my head as he guided me through the crowd at a desperate pace. Once back inside our house he dragged me straight to my room and tossed me inside. “Get some rest, My Gel. Something is not aright with ye.”
• He’s right on that. I’ve promised my body to the devil.
• ***
• I lay in my small bed and stared at the moon through the open shutters. Wishing that somehow the clouds would block the moon and keep it from ever rising fully. Or give me an excuse to claim I didn’t know it was time.
• But if I do, I leave Udora to whatever horrible fate he’s plotting for her. That familiar terror rolled through me and I desperately wanted to get her out.
• I have to see the dungeons. I need to figure out a way to get her out. But to do that I had to see the worst place in the world. My hands were already shaking at the thought of what I had to do. The idea of letting the worst sort of villain have his way with me, seemed even more terrifying then simply remembering that he already had.
• This, I’m consenting to. On trembling legs, I slid from my bed and adjusted the blankets so it’d appear I still lay there. In case my father peered in with a candle as he sometimes did.
• Tugging on my dullest gray dress and tossing my hair into a plait, I tried to look as unappealing as possible. Then I slithered out the window like some dark demon avoiding the eye, to sneak into the night.
• I stared at WitchFall on the Hill and every step that carried me closer felt like it was inches nearer my fate. Something I’d not be able to return from.
• ‘The moon is up, Saria. Come to me faster. Cease wasting time.’ There was a harshness in his voice, I hadn’t heard before. An urgency.
• It made me want to walk even slower. Only one candle burned in a chamber on the upper floor.
• His room. Waiting for me.
• I stopped on the stoop. My hand lifted to knock. And in that moment, I realized the truth. I’m a coward. I can’t do this.
• Despite how much I wanted to save Udora. Despite how I knew it was my fault she was in those dungeons, I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t just let him have me so I could get a look at them.
• Find a way out. I turned to go but the door cracked, and a hand shot out to grab my wrist. Yanking me inside before I could even utter an objection. And the door slammed behind us with ominous finality.
• ***
• My back was roughly pressed against the door.
• “There you are, my pretty little spitfire.” He purred. Pressing his lips to my temple and inhaling deeply as though I smelled tantalizing.
• “Why do you keep sniffing me.”
• “Because of what I take in when I do.”
• One of his cryptic, non-answers. I’d already grown to hate those.
• “I can’t do this.” I whispered up to him.
• He moved his head so he could level that piercing gaze on me. The dark fall of long black hair draping around his face nearly framed mine, he was so close. The smell of fresh wood and fire rolled off him like he was made of it.
• He brushed his nose against mine and whispered one sentence. “Too late, Sweetheart.”