Tasteful Darkness

Chapter 37

Balendin - Now

When I come to, I can barely move. I forgot how powerful memories are, especially for us Guards who are practically incapable of forgetting. I can experience every moment as if I'm back when it first occurred, though going through it is incredibly draining.

I jerk into a sitting position, and it's impossible to tell how much time has passed since Peter left me. It could be hours, and Peter doesn't have any to spare.

I scramble onto my feet and wrench open the front door so forcefully the doorknob nearly comes off in my hand. The moment I'm exposed to the night air, my legs carry me forward as quickly as they possibly can.

I run with the wind, too fast for anything—human or otherwise—to stop me.

Peter, my mind screams.

He never should have left. I should have forced him to stay, and I wouldn't have cared how much he hated me. If it meant he would have stayed alive, I would have done it a hundred times.

I smell the fire before I can see it, and it makes something inside me shatter.

Please, I beg to the Night. I will give anything.

But the Night is not a god of mercy. She never has been.

The bookstore burns in front of my eyes, the golden blazes and smell of ash all too familiar. The old woman who has helped me so many times stands in front of it, her face glistening with fresh tears, but she quickly hides her face with her trembling hands. I can't do anything but ignore her as I go towards the building. I hesitate only for a fraction of a moment before rushing inside towards the inferno.

The entrance is burned beyond recognition, and all the memories I have of this place come rising to the surface. I have to shake them from my mind to prevent being lost in old moments again.

There's an inhuman sound to my right. I wheel around, shielding my face from an enraged column of fire hungrily moving towards me. I swat it away, cursing at my lack of magic.

Once the fire has subsided, I see a flash of fur.

"Amelie!" I shout.

I rush forward, throwing books aside to reveal the trembling cat. She is covered in ash, but alive and overall unharmed. I grab her carefully and carry her outside, where I place her in the old woman's arms.

"Take care of her," I tell her, my voice firm.

When I go to leave, the woman grabs my arm. "You mustn't," she tells me with a trembling voice. "You will die."

"I don't care," I practically spit as I pull away from her and run back inside.

The building is crumbling now. I narrowly avoid a crashing bookcase that shatters on the floor in front of me, the unstable wood fracturing into a thousand pieces.

The vision floods my mind, and I remember seeing him on the second floor. I hold the thought close as I drag myself up the stairs, praying for mercy the entire time.

"Peter!" I shout, desperate for a response. "Where are you?"

My voice shakes the walls, but the only response I hear is the crackling and biting fire. I tear my eyes towards the window, the one from the vision, and suddenly—

All of the world stops.