In a stupor, she allowed him to guide her back up the staircase and into the quarters.
“Well,” said Felix brightly, striding into the room as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m famished. We probably should start thinking about supper…” he trailed off. Alistair was in his usual chair beside the fire, but Loki was sitting cross legged in Felix’s alcove. Balanced on his lap was the Myths and Legends book.
Loki looked up when Felix walked in, and stared at him through a cold, dark gaze.
Felix’s eyes flickered from Loki to the open book, then came to settle on Loki again. With one hand he nudged Bronwen back towards the corridor. “Run,” he uttered under his breath.
She staggered backwards but was able to move no farther. She stood frozen, her back pressed up against the rough oak door.
“The Severan,” said Loki. “It was a hell hound.”
Alistair glanced at him. “What did you say?” The firelight glowed on his skin, igniting the red in his eyes.
“The Severan,” Loki repeated, louder this time. He began reading from the passage. “Hell hounds are an extreme breed of hunter, sent from the underworld to bring a bloodline to extinction. The Severan Hunter is one of the most ferocious of its kind…”
Bronwen’s heart skipped a beat. This was the part she’d read. It was the very section of text that had led her to her own damning conclusions.
Loki continued, “It is also known as Severatum Venavacus. Translated as, Hunter of Witches.” He rose to his feet, letting the book drop amongst Felix’s bedding with a heavy thump.
“Hunter of Witches,” Alistair echoed. “That can’t be. The Severan came for Bronwen, and she’s not a…” He stopped talking.
Felix stepped in front of her. “Bronwen, leave,” he ordered.
“I—”
He shot her a fierce glare. “Leave.”
Burned by his eyes, she blindly obeyed. She stumbled out into the corridor and raced down the stone steps in a daze. Behind her, there was a thud from inside the quarters, but still she didn’t stop. She picked up her speed, dashing across the courtyard and out onto the drawbridge.
The chains clanged under her weight, and a torrent of cold air whipped at her skin. As she ran into the thicket of trees, her breath began to catch in sobs.
Now what? she thought hopelessly. I run from them for the rest of my life? She felt ashamed and disempowered by the realisation that there was no solution. What lengths would she go to in order to stay alive? What lengths would she go to in order to keep Felix alive?
For a second she stopped, lost amongst the towering trees in the dead of night. High above, the full, lustrous moon was veiled behind a thin layer of mist.
There had to be another answer. There had to be.
And then, out of nowhere, a pair of hands gripped her from behind. She was rendered immobile as a sharp sensation coursed through her shoulder.
“Loki, No!” Felix shouted.
Bronwen let out a cry and grasped her shoulder, feeling a slow stream of blood seeping into her clothes. Loki met her eyes with blood on his lips.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I have to.”
“I know,” she answered.
Chapter Twenty
No Regrets
Felix winced as Loki sunk his teeth into Bronwen’s shoulder. In an instant he was upon the younger boy, tearing him away from Bronwen and flinging him aside. Loki collided into a nearby tree, crashing against the trunk with such force that it split the bark.
That ought to hold him off for a few minutes, Felix thought.
“Run!” he shouted to Bronwen, frantic and breathless. “Please,” he begged, “and don’t stop running.”
He wondered how long he could hold Loki off. He certainly couldn’t outrun him if it came down to it. And Bronwen, well, she didn’t stand a chance.
Felix held his breath as she raced downhill into the trees.
Oh god, he thought. What have I done? He ran his hands through his hair.
“Loki,” he said, turning towards his motionless friend who was slumped over the tree roots. “Wake up. I can explain everything, if you’ll just listen.”
Loki didn’t stir.
“Don’t be like that,” Felix implored, walking towards him with his head hung in shame. “I know you’re angry. Of course you are. And you have every right to be. But give me a chance to explain myself.” He paused. “You can’t stay mad at me forever.” He nudged Loki with the toe of his shoe. “Forever is a long time, in case you haven’t noticed.”
There was no response.
Felix looked down at the pale, youthful face at his feet. Bronwen’s blood still stained his lips. “Loki?”
Nothing.
“Loki?” Felix tried again, a note of panic rising in his voice. “Wake up, Loki. This isn’t funny anymore.” He knelt on a bed of leaves and shook him roughly.
Loki’s head rolled limply to the side. His neck had been broken from the force of his collision with the tree. But they’d all three suffered injuries in the past—injuries far worse than that—and the dragon’s blood had always healed them.
An impact of that capacity would kill a human, Felix realised, queasy at the thought. He brought his fingers to Loki’s throat. There was no pulse. No movement. No life.
“Oh god,” he whispered.
All of a sudden, Felix was short of breath. His eyes began to sting and his chest felt as though it were on fire. He let out a loud, angry sob as tears blurred his vision.
Heart broken, he collapsed beside Loki with an anguished rasp that shook the ground beneath them. In a helpless state he nursed Loki’s lifeless body, quietly calling for him in the hope that he would awaken. But, in his heart, Felix knew that his friend was gone. He allowed the grief to flow over him, consuming him until it almost suffocated him.
“What happened?” a quiet voice came from behind them.
Felix trembled as he looked over his shoulder. “Alistair,” he murmured. “Look at what I’ve done. I’ve killed him.”
Alistair didn’t speak. He stared down at Loki, his expression stoic.
“Say something,” Felix pleaded.
Alistair’s gaze landed on the blood smeared over Loki’s lips. A glimmer of understanding crossed his face.
“Say something, Alistair,” Felix urged again.
He knelt beside Felix and put his arms around him. They stayed that way for some time, interwoven together as their little group had always been.
“Be happy for him, Felix,” Alistair said at last.
This time it was Felix who remained silent.
“Was she badly hurt?” Alistair asked softly.
Felix’s thoughts wandered back to Bronwen, and the image of her fleeing for the trees. “No,” he replied, his voice hoarse and weak. “She escaped.”
“It didn’t take much of her blood, then, did it?” Alistair recognised quietly.
Felix didn’t answer. Instead he watched as strands of Loki’s hair wavered in the breeze. “Look at what I’ve done,” he said in a pensive voice.
“Loki wanted an end,” Alistair reminded him, gently.
“No. Not just this, but all of it. Everything we’ve been through, every ounce of suffering we’ve endured—all of it was my doing.”
“Oh, Felix,” Alistair said, shaking his head remorsefully. “Don’t say such silly things.”
“Why not? It’s the truth. I am the reason our lives were cursed, Alistair. You blame me. I know you do.”
“The only one who blames you, Felix, is you.”
“Then I’m afraid you are far too kind,” Felix said, smiling sadly. “You wanted to go home, Alistair. I remember it, and I know you do too. It was my foolish quest for a thrill that led us to Margo Bates’ house. I insisted we go, I stole the apples, and I accepted the poisoned drink.”
Alistair smiled back at him, tears misting his eyes. “Persuasive though you are, you cannot be held ac
countable for the decisions Loki and I made. I won’t allow you to punish yourself this way. Good heavens, Felix, don’t you think I wanted those apples, too? Of course I did. We all did. Margo Bates had the finest apple tree for miles around!”
Felix’s mouth watered at the conjured memory. “Oh, the sweet temptation of forbidden fruit…”
“I don’t blame you, Felix,” Alistair went on. “I never did. And do you want to know the strangest thing?” He gazed wistfully up at the moonlit treetops. “I’m not even sure I regret it.”
Felix frowned.
“What is there to regret? I haven’t had a bad life. In fact, I’d say it’s been quite extraordinary. I’ve spent nearly two hundred years with my best friends. Who could call that a curse?” He laughed quietly to himself. “We may not have had a conventional life, but it’s been our life. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
“Alistair,” Felix sighed, “it is you, my friend, who is extraordinary.”
Alistair chuckled. “I know.”
They turned their gaze upon Loki.
“He looks peaceful,” Alistair noted, brushing his fingers against Loki’s cold cheek. “You know, he would have stopped himself. He couldn’t have killed her. Deep down, it’s just not who he is.”
“He didn’t have to,” Felix mentioned, almost inaudibly. “Like you said, it didn’t take much of her blood to…” He pressed his fist to his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Alistair. I should have told you. Only I was so scared of what might happen if I did.”
“I understand,” Alistair assured him. “You thought it would cost her life, so you did what you had to do to protect her.” He paused. “You love her.”
“I do love her,” Felix confessed, “with all my heart. I didn’t intend to, and I tried so hard not to…”
“There are some things that even you cannot fight. And to be perfectly frank, if the cure had called for her death, then I wouldn’t have taken it either.”
“But it doesn’t. It seems a drop is all it takes.”
They fell silent, contemplating their own innermost feelings.
“You’re going to go, aren’t you, Alistair?” said Felix, a lump forming in his throat.
Alistair smiled, suddenly more beautiful and ethereal than he had ever been. “Yes,” he replied. “I think so.”
“I’m not ready yet.”
“I know.”
Felix met his gaze. “You don’t think I should stay.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Felix smiled shrewdly. “You didn’t have to, Alistair. I’ve lived with you for centuries. I know your thoughts as well as I know my own.”
Alistair laughed kindly. “You love one another. I would never begrudge you for your happiness, you know that. But…”
“But?” Felix prompted.
“Be mindful of the losses as well as the gains. Will you promise me that?”
He swallowed painfully. “Yes.”
“You’ll know what to do when the time comes.” Alistair looked up to the sky one final time. “So, here we are again, Felix. Just you and I. Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” he joked. But Felix didn’t smile. “I’ll see you again,” Alistair whispered, “my dear and exceptional old friend.” And with those parting words, he bent down and pressed his mouth to Loki’s, letting the residue of Bronwen’s blood pass onto his lips.
Felix gripped Alistair’s hand as he lay on the ground beside Loki. He watched as Alistair’s scarlet eyes were restored to their former milky-blue, and for the first time in hundreds of years, he recognised the young boy he’d grown up with. Alistair Wesson, his childhood best friend.
“Goodbye, Felix,” Alistair murmured.
“Goodbye, Alistair,” Felix said loyally.
Chapter Twenty
Reflections
Bronwen burst into the cottage, the front door swinging shut behind her with a loud slam. Her breath was ragged from running, and her shoulder stung from the bite, but she felt nothing—at least, nothing apart from a searing ache in the pit of her stomach.
She staggered into the living room and flipped the light switch. At once, the glare of artificial light engulfed the little den. And there, sprawled out across the sofa, was Tom Jenkins.
He awoke, startled by the light. His shaggy brown hair fell waywardly over his eyes, and his clothes were creased and askew.
Bronwen stared at him in a state of utter shock. This man was her father. It was as though the simple knowledge of that fact had altered her vision entirely. She no longer saw an old family friend, but instead a complete stranger who bore her genes.
“You should have told me,” she blurted out.
The sound of footsteps thudded down the staircase, and moments later Ada appeared. She hurried into the living room wearing a pale yellow dressing gown.
“You’re hurt!” she cried, gasping at the sight of Bronwen’s blood-stained top and ashen face. “Did the Severan—”
“It wasn’t the Severan.” Bronwen stared straight through her. “You lied to me, Ada. Every day of my life, you lied to me. And him!” she cried, gesturing wildly towards Tom. “In sixteen years, all the opportunities you had to tell me…”
Ada looked to the floor, disarmed by Bronwen’s words.
“I thought you were my grandmother. How could you let me believe that? You used to tell me how alike we were, how much you loved me… It was all a lie. We don’t even share the same blood!”
“Blood means nothing,” Ada shot back. “You are my granddaughter, and I love you more than anything on this earth. I won’t have anyone say otherwise.”
Tears streamed from Bronwen’s eyes. “But I’m not, though, am I? I’m just a stranger. He is my family. And he abandoned me.”
Tom’s face reddened in shame.
“Your father did not abandon you,” Ada jumped to his defence. “He gave up everything to keep you safe. And it worked. For sixteen years, it worked.”
Bronwen looked between them both. “And my mother?” she asked weakly. “What happened to her?”
This time it was Tom who answered. “Your mother ran from the Severan her whole life. When it finally found her, we tried to fight it…” he trailed off.
“The Severan,” Bronwen murmured.
“It would have come for you too, long ago if we hadn’t hidden you,” Tom stated bluntly. “If I’d have stayed, I would have led it straight to you. I couldn’t have protected you. The only chance you had for survival was to become anonymous.”
“What if I didn’t want to be anonymous?” she cried. “What if I wanted to stay with you?”
“It wasn’t an either-or. This was the way it had to be. With Ada as your grandmother, there was hope for you. Her visions were what kept you safe.”
“But the visions sent me to Felix!” Bronwen spluttered, whirling around to face Ada. “I would have been out of the frying pan and into the fire! In case you’ve forgotten, the cure you promised him is me! It’s my blood! How did you expect to get around that? Thanks for saving her, now you get to kill her?”
“No!” Ada exclaimed. “The cure is a drop of your blood. One drop is all it takes.”
Bronwen touched the wound on her shoulder, immediately thinking of Loki. “Felix didn’t know that,” she expressed. “He thought they’d have to kill me.” She searched Ada’s eyes, confused and in shock. “Is that what you told him?”
“I had to. Once he found out who you were, I had to make sure that he stuck to his end of the bargain, at least until the Severan had been dealt with. If he knew it was only a drop, who knows what might have happened…”
Bronwen reared at the implications. “He wouldn’t have jumped ship, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Even so,” said Ada passively, “it was not a risk I was willing to take.”
“And if he’d killed me?”
“I knew he wouldn’t.”
“You had a premonition?” Bronwen guessed.
“No. I don’t need psychic abili
ties to know that boy would never harm you.”
Bronwen flinched.
“Darling,” Ada went on, “I’m not proud of the lies I told, but neither would I do things differently if I had my time over. I did what I had to do to ensure your safety. So did Tom. So did Felix.”
“Then why did you give him lemon tea when he came here tonight? If you knew the Severan was gone, why didn’t you tell him the truth then?”
Ada blushed. “That, Bronwen, I did for you. In this case, it was your heart that needed protecting. I see the way you look at him.”
Bronwen swallowed.
“I see the love you have for him,” she elaborated. “And… it was simpler for him to carry on believing that there was no other way.”
Tom cleared his throat. “Ada? Do you mind if I have a minute alone with Bronwen? There are some things she needs to hear.”
“Of course,” Ada replied. “I think I’ll put the kettle on.” She gave Bronwen a kiss on the cheek before quietly leaving the room.
Bronwen froze under Tom’s careful gaze.
“You know, you look like her,” he said after a pause. “Your mother, I mean. Her name was Samantha.”
She didn’t respond.
“You’re like her in personality, too,” he added. “You have her courage.”
“How would you know anything about me?” Bronwen challenged him. “You left. You chose to be nobody to me. You had a choice, and you chose that.”
“I’ve been here the whole time.”
“As a stranger!”
“Okay, you’re right,” he yielded. “I made that choice. I saw what happened to Samantha—I saw it with my own eyes—and I knew that there was no way I’d let the same thing happen to you. I may not have been strong enough to stay and fight, but I was strong enough to walk away. And it worked. You were saved because of the choice I made. So yes, Bronwen, I had a choice. And I made the right one.”
She took a shaky breath. “But we could have stayed together,” she whispered.
Suddenly her words began to echo in her ears as though she were speaking them not only to Tom, but to Felix, too.
“Yes, we could have. I could have kept you because I wanted to, and it would have been easy. But when you love someone, sometimes the easy option isn’t always the right one. Sometimes the thing you want isn’t necessarily the thing they need.”