The Angel's Stone

Chapter 27

Shock locked Natascha in place. She wanted to run to her mother and Wayne and Angel, but she felt stiff and ridged, suddenly at a loss of movement, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Wayne looked exhausted, and for the first time, fragile. He took two wavering steps forward, paused, and collapsed forward, Dylan's quick reflexes the only thing keeping him from hitting the floor.

"Patrick," Dylan called, "a little help, if would, please."

Patrick strode up to help him, a look of bafflement screwing up his face. Not even broken limbs have stopped Wayne before.

Marissa hurriedly set Angel down on a bed, and switched her attention to Natascha. Like a small shock from an electric socket, Natascha noticed the bright blue pendant that normally occupied the valley between Marissa's collarbones had vanished. She suddenly felt lost at sea.

"I need you to see if the warlock is still here," Marissa told her. "And please hurry, Tascha."

Though part of her longed to stay, Natascha hurried numbly out the door. Down the hall, her pace quickened and grew, until she was speeding through rooms, the pain in her chest slowly snaking up and constricting her throat. She felt as though she were on fire, and her breathing became rapid. Her mind was racing- if she didn't find the warlock, Angel would die- she couldn't let her only chance at living escape because she was too slow-

The kitchen door bursted open. She frantically looked around, her breath erratic. The table was completely clear except for the rune-covered place mats and the large, brass candelabra in the center. The warlock had taken his money, as instructed to do so. Hopefully he was still finding his way out- they Institute was rather huge, you normally couldn't find your way around the first time in, thankfully.

Natascha sped out of the room faster than Wayne sped in it when there was food. She pedaled through halls so fast that the pictures, dangling crooked on the walls, teetered on their axis. She was not thinking anymore, just putting every last bit of her energy into storming down halls, into getting to the exit. Her pendant glowed as it bounced around her neck, as though unappeased with all of the movement, and suddenly, she halfway down the hall to the large doors at the entrance. Confused, though too focused to pay much attention to it, Natascha continued down, until she was halfway there, three quarters there-

And she collapsed onto the crimson carpet, the breath being knocked out of her. She gasped in surprise, and then curled up in pain. Her chest felt full of poison, or overflowing with gasoline that had just been struck with a lit match, ready to explode at any minute. She had never knew what it was like to want to die until that moment, and how much disappointment it was to realize that there was no escape.

Suddenly, it was like a pair of invisible scissors cut cleanly through the invisible line connecting Natascha to Angel. Everything went a lonely kind of cold, despite the warmness that was spreading across her chest. Shaking slightly, the weight suddenly draining from her torso, she sat up slowly and looked down. The rune, the one drawn right over her heart, was bleeding slightly. Natascha's eyes filled with tears, and she buried her face into her hands, wanting to shrink into the ground. Angel, she felt, had just passed away.