Saving Grace

50

Grace, just outside the French doors, leaned her beautiful head against the side of her swinging bench. A thousand shadows were cast against her troubled face, canopy over her head keeping the sun off her tanned skin. I sat beside her and she tilted, head on my shoulder and hands rested in the crook of my arm.

"You had me worried," I said. "I didn't know where you'd gone."

She nuzzled closer, tightened her grip on me.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I never meant for this to happen."

"This isn't on you," I said. "It's His fault. This is all His fault."

"Is everyone still here?"

"They're just moving out. They said we couldn't come."

Grace pulled back, looked me in the eyes.

"You're not really going to listen, are you?"

The fire in her ignited, spreading faster and faster, until her entire body was consumed and her eyes shone in the gathering dark. A very small, sad smile tugged at my lips and I brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"Do you seriously have to ask?"

The French doors squeaked open and through them stepped Godric and his pet giant, Vincent. I untangled myself from Grace, got to my feet.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Godric assured me. "We leave soon, just need to take care of something first."

I frowned.

"What?"

"You."

A small, sharp prick pinched my upper arm and I blinked, focused my eyes. Godric smiled, I looked down – he'd injected me with a small needle.

"Wh – "

The world tilted, blurred.

"It's alright," he said, catching me as my knees gave out. "By the time you wake up, everything will be fine again."

I tried to reach out, to grab him, but the fog grew thicker, and the world turned black.

© A.G. Travers 2018