Chương 8: A Storm Trapped Inside

"Oh, by the way," Celeste said as the carriage carried us beyond Graymere's gates, "what should we call you?"

"Helena is fine."

"Only Helena?" I looked at her. She smiled back as though she had asked the most innocent question imaginable.

"Only Helena."

"Then allow me to introduce us properly." Sitting across from me with her hands folded neatly in her lap, she gestured toward the man beside her.

"I am Celeste, and this is Adrian, my husband of one year." Adrian offered another polite nod, and I returned it. One year… They were still trapped in the honeymoon phase. How charming. I wondered how long it would take before all that sweetness spoiled into resentment. That had been my experience with families, marriages, and every other arrangement people decorated with pretty words before fastening them around someone's throat.

"Do you have someone special?" Celeste asked. Adrian's eyes shifted toward her. It was not exactly a warning. He looked more like a man who already knew his wife was about to step on something sharp and had accepted that fate could no longer be prevented.

"No." Celeste blinked.

"Really?"

"Was my answer complicated?"

"No, but…" Her gaze traveled over me, not with the same lecherous hunger I had seen from men, but with open curiosity.

"You're beautiful. I imagine people would line up down the street for the chance to court you." I sighed and leaned back against the carriage seat. The road had already grown rough, forcing the wheels to groan over every rut. Adrian and Celeste sat close enough that their shoulders brushed whenever the carriage rocked, though neither seemed bothered by it.

"Being courted sounds troublesome."

"Why?"

"Because then… I'd be expected to care." Celeste tilted her head. I turned toward the window and watched the trees pass.

"Let us simply say that I do not believe in love."

"What a terrible thing to say."

"What a convenient thing to believe," I countered. Her mouth opened, and then closed. For one glorious moment, I thought I had finally silenced her. No such luck.

"Love is not convenient," she argued.

"Real love is inconvenient constantly. It makes you afraid and foolish. It makes another person's pain feel like your own. But when you find the person you were meant to meet, all of that becomes worthwhile." I looked back at her.

"So you believe in fate?" Her smile softened.

"Perhaps."

"I do not."

"Why?"

"Because if fate exists, I would like to kill it." That finally drew a visible reaction from Adrian, whose brow rose slightly. Celeste regarded me with something gentler than curiosity.

"You've been hurt." I smiled at her, though there was no warmth in it.

"My family is dead." The color drained from her face.

"I'm sorry."

"Do not be… They are not." Silence settled over the carriage and managed to survive for nearly three full seconds. A personal record for Celeste, I suspected. Then her gaze dropped toward my hands.

"So," she began, carefully changing the subject, "what sort of power do you have bottled up inside you? My curiosity is boiling." Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. I raised my right hand with the palm facing upward. For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then violet light gathered above my skin, twisting inward until a small orb formed over my palm.

Its surface rotated like smoke trapped beneath glass, humming softly as purple reflections spread across the carriage walls. Outside, the horses whinnied. Adrian's hand moved immediately to his sword. Celeste leaned closer.

"Careful," Adrian warned.

"I am being careful."

"You are leaning toward an unknown destructive orb."

"I am observing it."

"You observe cliffs the same way."

"And yet I remain alive."

"Because I pull you away from them." I glanced between them.

"Do the two of you always behave this way?"

"Yes," Adrian answered.

"No," Celeste replied at the same time. I stared at them. They looked at each other, and Celeste began to laugh. The orb pulsed above my palm.

"Lovely," I muttered.

"What do you call it?" she asked.

"I don't call it anything."

"You have not named your magic?"

"I have possessed it for less than a month." Her eyes widened.

"Less than a month?" Adrian's posture changed. The movement was subtle, but it was there. He had been cautious before. Now he was fully alert. I watched him consider the timeline, weigh its implications, and quietly store the information away. He spoke less than his wife, but he was far from dull. Good… I hated dull people.

"My best guess is destruction magic," I explained, watching the violet orb turn. Celeste's expression sharpened.

"Destruction?"

"That appears to be what it does. Anything it touches tends to stop being shaped correctly." The carriage fell silent once again. Outside, the road curved into thicker forest, and branches scraped against the carriage roof like fingernails. Celeste continued studying the orb with open fascination.

"I have heard of fire, lightning, ice, wind, earth, light, shadow, cursecraft, bloodcraft, spirit decay, and even theoretical void-warping. But destruction magic…"

"You've never encountered it?"

"Not as a natural affinity."

"What does that mean?"

"Most mages are born with one or two affinities, though a rare few can learn beyond them. Magic usually transforms something. Fire burns, ice freezes, wind cuts, light purifies, and shadow conceals. Your power feels different." The orb spun faster. I closed my fingers, causing it to extinguish.

"How?" Celeste hesitated.

"It doesn't feel as though it wants to transform anything." Adrian looked toward her.

"Celeste." She ignored him.

"It wants to end things." A faint smile touched my lips.

"That does sound like me." Adrian did not smile.

"So," I asked, "what can the two of you do besides hold hands and make me nauseous?" Celeste brightened as though I had not just insulted her.

"I specialize in elemental magic and warding. Fire, ice, wind, and some lightning, though lightning is difficult to control indoors. I can also detect magical residue, dispel weaker curses, and maintain barriers."

"Useful."

"I try to be." My attention shifted to Adrian. He rested one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Swordsmanship, close combat, anti-undead techniques, and basic reinforcement."

"Basic?" Celeste smiled.

"He is being modest."

"I'm being accurate."

"He once held a corridor alone against forty ghouls."

"Thirty-two."

"Forty sounds better."

"Accuracy matters."

"Drama matters too, darling." Darling… I think I just threw up in my mouth. For one irrational moment, throwing myself from the moving carriage seemed appealing. Instead, I rubbed my temple.

"You two are exhausting." Celeste's smile turned wicked.

"You will become accustomed to us."

"Unlikely." Adrian's mouth twitched again. The carriage struck a stone, jolting all three of us. For a while, we traveled in relative quiet as Celeste reviewed what she knew about Black Hollow House and Adrian spread a map across the space between us. The estate stood north of Graymere, buried deep within a forest the locals refused to enter. It had once belonged to a minor noble family before some scandal involving plague, a disputed inheritance, and a daughter accused of witchcraft left it abandoned.

"Reports indicate that the outer grounds are filled with lesser undead," Adrian explained, tapping the map.

"Skeletons, corpse-hounds, and possibly ghouls."

"Possibly?"

"The survivors were not especially detailed."

"Survivors rarely are," Celeste added.

"They tend to spend more time screaming than documenting." Her pleasant smile almost made the observation worse, though I found myself liking her a little despite my better judgment. Adrian tapped the map.

"Things only get worse inside, where the manor rearranges itself." I raised an eyebrow.

"The house moves?"

"Rooms shift, hallways lengthen, and doors disappear. Groups that enter together often become separated."

"How inconvenient."

"Extremely." Celeste tapped the center of the estate marked on the map.

"The source is believed to lie beneath the house. It could be a ritual chamber, crypt, or root cellar, but something is anchoring the dead to the estate."

"And the witch?"

"There have been no confirmed sightings," Adrian replied.

"Only whispers of a woman singing, shadows appearing near windows, and laughter heard behind locked doors."

"Wonderful… A dramatic witch." Celeste clasped her hands together.

"We should establish a formation."

"No." Both of them looked at me. I leaned back.

"I will go first."

"That is not a formation," Adrian observed.

"It becomes one when the two of you follow behind me."

"Helena," Celeste began gently, "You may be powerful, but this isn't a roadside ambush. Undead don't always attack directly. There may be traps, curses, possession, binding circles, or worse."

"Can any of those kill me?"

"We don't know."

"Can they kill either of you?"

"Yes."

"Then I go first." Adrian's eyes narrowed slightly, not with anger but assessment.

"Celeste can sense the magic, maintain our barriers, and warn me before I step into anything irritating. You keep anything from reaching her while she does that, and I walk ahead to break whatever decides it wants to meet us." Celeste blinked. Adrian studied the map before giving a reluctant nod.

"That is crude," he admitted, "but not unreasonable."

"Crude works."

"Until it doesn't."

"Then we improvise." Celeste watched me for a long moment.

"You truly are not afraid."

"I did not say that."

"No?"

"I said I would go first." Her expression softened, and I disliked how easily she seemed to see past the surface. She regarded me like a weapon whose edge mattered less than whatever pain had shaped it.

"That is not the same thing," I added.

"No," she agreed quietly.

"It is not." The carriage began to slow as the forest closed around the road. Twisted branches smothered much of the daylight, while the horses tossed their heads and stamped uneasily as the driver muttered curses beneath his breath. A gate emerged ahead of us. Bent iron bars stretched between stone pillars choked with dead ivy. Beyond the gate, Black Hollow House waited at the end of an overgrown drive. It leaned beneath the gray sky like a corpse too stubborn to fall. Celeste's cheerful expression vanished.

Adrian drew his sword. Inside me, something stirred. Hunger, power, and curiosity twisted together. I smiled.

"Well," I said as I stepped down from the carriage, "let us see whether your witch was worth the journey."