The Hidden Crystal

Chapter 39

Char was deep in a dreamless sleep when he felt a burst of warmth on his hand. He swatted it away and rolled over, but it yanked the blanket off of him. He sat up, irritated, and then he registered a golden light darting around him as the fog of sleep lifted.

A fairy. Zipping from his hand to his bedroom, back and forth, back and forth, insistent and unceasing.

Iris.

He jumped to his feet and raced after it.

She was still lying in his bed. Asleep.

He slowed to a walk for the last few steps, letting out a sigh of relief, but he sucked it back in less than a second later. Something was wrong. Beads of perspiration dotted her furrowed brow, and she was whimpering, small, almost inaudible sounds accompanying fast, shallow breaths.

The frantic fairies flitting around her pulled the blanket back. The amulet was glowing red.

Char grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Iris. Iris, wake up!"

She can't hear you right now.

His eyes widened. He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. "If you want her alive, you need to stop this. She can't breathe."

A deep chuckle echoed through his mind. She can breathe well enough. I've done worse to her. But perhaps you'd rather see for yourself.

In an instant, Char was in the tower, standing outside her bedroom. He—no, Micah—shoved the door open hard enough for it to slam into the wall and rebound. Iris lay on the sofa in the darkened room, and her brown eyes flew open, sleepy and confused. Micah grabbed her by the collar and yanked her to her feet before she even had time to sit upright.

"You will regret that, Iris."

He snatched the amulet before her fumbling hand could reach it. She cried out in pain. Her breathing became labored, her wide eyes filling with panic.

"I'm taking it all back, and then some. You're about to find out how much I've been sparing you."

Char curled his hands into fists, digging his fingernails into his palms. "Stop this."

The images continued. Micah released her collar and dragged her along by the amulet at an unforgiving pace. The chain around her neck didn't break—wouldn't break. Char heard her stumbling and falling up the spiral staircase, heard her struggling to breathe, but Micah didn't even spare her a backward glance.

"Stop this!"

Micah yanked the door to Jonah's study open and threw Iris to the floor. She hit the stone with a solid thud. He walked past her to a shelf lined with potions, selected one, and carried it to the desk. Then he picked up a pitcher, poured water into a glass, and added a drop of the potion. A poof of smoke hid the glass from view, and he waited, unhurried, until the smoke cleared to reveal a rich burgundy liquid.

Char could hear her gasping for breath behind him.

Micah picked up the glass and turned back to her. Blood trickled down her neck and her scraped and bruised legs. She had one hand on the floor, her arm shaking beneath her as she pushed herself up, and she was reaching her other trembling hand toward the amulet.

But he was faster than her.

He grabbed her by the hair and jerked her head back. Her mouth was already open, trying to draw in as much air as she could, and he forced the potion down her throat. She choked and gagged, red liquid dribbling from her mouth and staining the front of her dress.

"Stop showing me this!"

Micah threw the empty glass to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. He grabbed the amulet again and dragged Iris through the shards to a stone table, then picked her up and slammed her onto it. Fresh blood flowed from her new cuts as he twisted and jerked her into position. She was coughing and wheezing, but he pulled the leather strap as tight over her neck as he did her ankles, waist, and left wrist. Her lips were turning blue.