All clad in black once again, they stood in the gardens of Charlottenburg Palace. The cool air was welcoming as it cloaked over them. Emma stared at the dome with wonderous eyes, her fingers tapping her thigh as the nerves spiralled within her body. Her breath hitched as she felt the pressure of all that could happen build up inside of her mind.
Blake's mind pondered the previous events. His heart raced as he gazed at the palace. He contemplated her power, wondering just how far it could go. Emma stepped forward beside him and he looked down at her. She stood with determination. Her hands flexed by her sides; she was preparing.
'Are you ready?' He asked, keeping his voice quiet. He watched as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Her hands formed tight fists by her sides, and he heard her deep intake of air. Her feet bounced her up and down as if she was on a trampoline.
'I think so.' She answered in the strongest voice she could muster. They stayed for a moment, side by side. There were a few groups of people, staring at the lit up, glistening palace. A few guards stood dotted, faces as rigid as stone. Blake took a hesitant step back, starting the movement. Emma followed after a longing stare. She turned on her heel and walked through the well-cut grass after him.
They hid within the shadows of trees. The trunk they slid behind was thick, towering high above them with branches stretching out far and wide. The few people that still stood lingered around, the guards standing firmly in place. Blake's heavy breathing by her side didn't comfort her but she ignored it, knowing there were worse obstacles out there.
'Okay,' He breathed, taking a few steps back, 'just remember that it's red.' He spoke, his eyes darting from tree to tree as if they were going to use their branches to reach out and grab him. Nerves consumed him; paranoia swept in as he thought of all the ways in which it could go wrong.
'Yeah,' Emma whispered, letting her lungs expand with air as if she'd never tasted oxygen before. She stared at the gold statue on top of the dome.
Emma could feel him stepping back like she was a bomb, like she was dangerous. While she couldn't remember what happened in the hotel room when she'd got the spell to work, she saw the damage. She took a deep breath, shuffling slightly to hide behind the tree.
The words whirled in her mind, with her eyes open she could see the letters flash by like traffic lights, she wasn't sure whether she was ready or not. She closed her eyes, stretching the muscles in her palm.
Blake could feel the smile pulling his lips upwards. He knew. His heart beat faster as he watched her prepare herself. She took a few unsteady breaths, letting her chest relax as she exhaled. She raised her arm, lifting her palm so it was aimed straight at Fortuna, the statue settled in place on the dome.
He watched as concentration absorbed her. Her back straightened and the grounds fell silent. The air was warm, the sweat sticky in Emma's palm. Her mind went blank. The colour red swirled in her mind and quickly, it was the only thing behind her eyes.
'Brackorous, Revellus, Comentus.' The words played in her head, the volume rising as her brain shouted the words louder and louder. Emma was unaware. She was focused solely on the jewel that she was oblivious to what was happening around her.
The wind beat against Blake's legs, rising up over his body. He stared with wonder as Emma was lifted, the wind raising her off the ground, higher than in the hotel. She had a kind of glow around her, emitting power and control. Her hair swirled around her head like the snakes of Medusa. Blake stumbled back; eyes full of wonder as they never left her body.
A rupture ripped through the gardens. A massive tear cut through the dome. Over the whistling wind around him, he could hear the screams of fright and watched as tourists ran while guards fumbled in shock. Blake stared at Emma with dread, his hands cupped around his mouth.
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The In-Between (Book 1 - Death, Demons and Mere Mortals)
Fantasy~COMPLETED~ Death is only the beginning. The journey that follows is unknown. So why do people say that? Is it for comfort? To reassure that when one dies, they will live on, that there won't just be an empty body in the ground. Emma is so close to...