spellbound | book #1 | completed

L I

[edited: 01/04/2018]

Sarah was not quite sure how long she had been alone in the cave, looking at the same damp spot on the granite wall. She was not quite sure how long she had been listening to Remy's screams, and how long it had been until they had stopped for good. All she knew was that the black magic—she could think of no other way to describe the half-transparent, half-grey smoke—that bound her wrists had disappeared and she could move freely again. That, at least, was an improvement.

She stood up cautiously, fearing that perhaps she was not as alone as she had thought, but nobody came and nothing happened to suggest otherwise. In that moment, it felt as though she was the only person alive in the world, and loneliness consumed her so that she had to force herself to breathe regularly and stop herself from panicking.

Standing felt unusual after she had been sitting in cold puddles of water for so long, and she had to reacquaint herself with her legs before she set off in pursuit of the cave opening. She needed to be prepared to run at any time and could not trip over or slow down because her legs were numb. She decided not to run this time—she was not one to test her luck, not when she had tried and failed before.

"Approach the situation rationally and logically," she mumbled to herself as she crept along the edges of the cave. It was what her mother had always said to her when Sarah had gotten too overemotional or upset. Sarah had always liked the saying until now, when she was not sure just how much rationality she had left.

Still, she made it to the opening of the cave. The daylight, though it was grey and dreary and would soon fade into night, blinded her so that she was forced to squint as she took in her surroundings. The clifftop was deserted, with no sign of her captors—or anyone at all.

She looked up to where the higher cliffs were and found that a crowd of people were descending them, wearing red clothes. Their many variations of hair colours stood out joltingly against the monochrome sky. She did not know if they were to be trusted, but the others had worn black where they wore red, which surely meant they did not share the same affinity to harm. Still, she did not try to catch their attention. She would make her own way back.

And so she did. There were plenty of declining planes of rocks and footholds for her to climb down, and though she found it difficult at first, her feet slipping from under her so that she risked falling, eventually she gathered pace and it did not take her too long until she felt much closer to the ground than she had before.

She was doing just fine until the sensation of another presence behind her broke her concentration and caused her to jump, which in turn led to her skidding down one of the rocks. She might have fallen if it was not for two steady arms supporting her.

"I'm sorry," a voice said. "I did not mean to alarm you."

She composed herself and turned around, finding the crimson eyes of a young man with golden hair and a friendly smile. He was dressed all in red like the crowds she had seen on the other side of the lake and did not look as though he wished her any ill harm. Still, she inched away from him slightly, not wishing to wind up back in the dark confines of the cave.

He seemed to be scrutinising her, too, and after a moment his face turned grave. "You are a mortal, but you are not the one everyone has been talking about. How did you get here?"

Sarah worried at her lip, wondering just how truthful she should be. "I was taken," she sighed finally, deciding she had not much left to lose but her sanity. "His name was Ackmard—"

"The Dark One," he interrupted, his forehead creasing, though Sarah couldn't tell if it was in confusion or apprehension. "Why? What would they want with another mortal?"

"They used me to get to Remy."

His frowned deepened, and then something seemed to click for him. "The other mortal girl."

"Yes. I don't know what happened to her. He took her away and left me alone. Do you know where she is?"

"We were alerted that the mortal—sorry, Remy—and Maksim arrived back in Astracia only a short while ago. I can take you to them if you would like." There was something very kind about the way the man spoke to Sarah, and though his eye colour appeared menacing from a distance, they were also warm, like a fire in the middle of winter.

She nodded, her heart sinking. Remy had left her here whilst she had already retreated to safety. She knew that they were not the most caring friends to have ever existed and Remy had suffered, too, but in a life or death situation, Sarah thought that Remy might have perhaps tried to help her rather than abandon her altogether. After all, she would not have been here at all were it not for her reckless best friend.

The man did not say much more as he lead her on her path down the cliffs, and she was grateful for it. She couldn't help but notice his red clothes were ripped and dirtied in places and when he moved and his sleeves rode up, his skin was bruised and bleeding. His knuckles, too, were white and tensed at his sides as though he was angry, though he gave nothing away in his expression, and his blonde hair was blackened by something that looked like soot. Perhaps he had fought. Perhaps a whole war had been going on without Sarah noticing. Perhaps she had been lucky to be trapped in that cave.

"What is your name?" he questioned after minutes of Sarah listening to her raspy breaths and her shoes scuffing against the rocks.

"Sarah," she said quietly, as though she was embarrassed by it. A part of her was; the man was just as attractive, if not more, than Maksim in his own, strange way and Sarah had always known she was utterly plain even in her own world.

"Sarah," he tried the name out on his tongue as though it was the most unusual thing he had ever heard. "It is interesting to meet you. I have never met a mortal before."

"And you?" she asked. "What's your name?"

"It is Beck. Beck Denholm."

"And why are you here, Beck?" She no longer cared if she was being polite or impolite. It was easy to ask blunt questions when she was only half-paying attention to him, her eyes cast downwards in fear of placing her feet in the wrong position and slipping again.

"I am here to fight. We battled the Dark Ones. After they ran away, I was asked to look around and make sure that none of them were left. They wanted me to see if they had left anything behind—it appears that they had."

Sarah glanced up expectantly, but Beck was smirking.

"You."

"Oh. Yes. I think that was intentional."

His eyes darkened and he seemed eager to change the subject. She wondered what the war had been like for him; if he had been hurt or seen others hurt, if it was just as bloody and awful as it was in her own world.

"So you are friends with the other mortal girl, Remy." It was not a question. "Is it true what they say? Is she in love with Maksim Opal?"

The question took her aback. Was it true? She had not thought about it before, but she supposed it made sense. She had always been interested in the warlock. "I wouldn't know," she answered finally. "We haven't really had much time to catch up. Stuck in a cave, remember?"

"Of course. That was a foolish question. Forgive me."

Relief flooded through her as Beck jumped off the last rock and his feet met solid ground. They had reached the bottom, and she was one step closer—she hoped—to going home. He held out his hand and she took it, hopping off the ledge herself and enjoying the feeling of steadiness that it, and he, brought. She couldn't help but smile as he held her waist, making sure she didn't fall.

Then she blushed, because this was not her world and there was a boy waiting for her in her own. She would not make the same mistakes that Remy appeared to have and become a little too interested in this chaotic, foreign place.

As though realising Sarah's reluctance, he pulled his hands away quickly, his gaze falling on something behind her.

"So," he said, a smile rising to his face, "are you ready to portal?"

Sarah had a feeling that she was not.