A Witch's Undoing

Chapter 11: Neil

My eyes flew open.

The very first thing I felt was the unparalleled tension in my head closely followed by a ringing in my ears. My entire body felt heavy and lifeless.

The more I came to, the more I regretted it, not only because of the wretched sensations but because being conscious meant acknowledging what had transpired and even worse, feeling human about it.

With Eliah, everything was push and pull. If I wanted to be efficient and powerful, to flawlessly impersonate an amalgamation of everything that was both feared and idolized about me, I had to lean into what it meant being a Grandmaster. I had to amplify the common cord that ran between me and the ancient spirit - our greed, our ambition, our selfish, self-centered motives. It was always in the plural.

But whenever the old geezer attempted to exile me from my own mind, I had to focus on the I. I had to remind myself of my human past, of the feelings that bound me to people, not to magic or my plans with the realm. That was the only way to subdue Eliah's hold over me. The I  trumped the we.

It was a bitter victory, however. I was left in charge but I was also left with all the feelings I had tried so hard to bury, all the memories that haunted the darkest corners of myself.

Madeline and Eric...Seeing their faces come alive in front of me had been so debilitating that it almost cost me everything. Almost. If it hadn't been for...

I let out a sigh and looked up at the starry sky.

That's when I saw it. I lightly touched the forcefield wrapped around me in a protective bubble. This magic had become too familiar for me to not recognize it in an instant.

Hello, Lilian.

I spoke to my surroundings. She had to be somewhere close but I couldn't hear her mind. I got up and looked around, relying on my more natural senses.

She was standing a couple dozen feet away, on top of the watchtower, her elbows on the railing, her hand cupping her cheek. As soon as our eyes met, she straightened her back, as if I had caught her doing something wrong.

She was quiet. I didn't like it.

How long have you been standing there?

I asked. I must have been out for hours.

As long as you needed.

She looked down as she answered.

I smiled. Was she being shy?

All of a sudden, I wanted to tell her a million things at once - an apology that was long overdue; a thank you for saving me from something she could not even imagine; a claim of respect I so seldom gave. But it went deeper than that. I wanted to explain the things I had forbidden myself to talk about, about the visions Isabelle had used to torture me, about my crimes, my confessions of failure as a human or as whatever I was now. And maybe throwing in a comment on how the moonlight illuminating her figure on top of the tower made her seem like a lighthouse broken ships headed to, swelled with relief and hope; a shelter any drowning man would beg for, discovering in themselves a hidden strength to swim once more, as long as she was the thing they swam to.

Stay there.

The words sounded commanding but my voice was too soft. It was pleading. Lilian narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She was right not to trust me. I could barely understand what I was doing.

I was supposed to go back to the village, make sure the witch was captured, all the loose ends tied, Micah and Theodor safe and sound.

But I could not take my eyes away from the watchtower and before I knew it my legs had led me to stand in front of Lilian, as if on their own accord.