Sixty-Five ◑ The Tower
“No!” Lucille yelled, her voice so loud and so raw that it scraped her throat. Her whole body had tensed up, gathering a strong heat that echoed in her skin. “Agnes!”
The scene of Agnes’s hit and fall seemed to have burned itself into Lucille’s mind. Even as Agnes groaned, she was still paralyzed in her spot. Despair was rising in her chest, erupting into a hysterical scream.
Her vision was tainted with red now, the kind of red that translated into pure rage. Without a moment’s hesitation, she channeled a line of fire and lashed out in Cade’s direction as though using a whip.
The left half of his body was still aflame, absorbing the fiery lasso that she’d just unleashed upon him. For one frustrating second, she thought her attack was futile, but then the flames rose, sending sparks in the air. More of his flesh got torn off, but still he had a smile on his face. Slowly taking steps back, he tilted his head, darted one look at Agnes, and vanished into a flash of smoke that shot through the ceiling like one of the intangible ghosts.
Every bit of Lucille was compelled to follow and find him, but she still rushed towards Agnes, who was trying so hard to sit up.
“Don’t,” Lucille told her, gently easing her back onto the floor. Was it Lucille’s imagination, or was Agnes’s skin more translucent, more papery? It worried her to no end that it seemed that Agnes bore no other signs of her hit. “Stay here.”
She wanted to say more, perhaps words of comfort, but her windpipe was closing up. Tears were drumming behind her eyes. She felt like if she opened her mouth and tried to keep speaking, she would cry, and she didn’t want to show Agnes just how worried she was.
Agnes was still alive, still surviving, and that was the bottom line. Her breathing was ragged, labored, her chest heaving up and down with the effort, and the fact that she was weeping softly didn’t help.
“Stay here, stay with me,” Lucille said, trying to keep her tone steady. “Stay with me, okay?”
“Always,” Agnes replied, trying for a reassuring smile. However, there was clear pain in her face, and it wasn’t only just physical. It was deeper, more intense, and coupled with a hint of resignation and disappointment. “You have to go after him, Lucille. You have to finish this, and you can’t do that if you’re here.”
Lucille had known she would say something along those lines, but she still hesitated.
“I’ll still be here when you come back,” Agnes continued, lifting her hand to touch Lucille’s, but she was too weak to do so. “I’ll wait for you.”
Seeing her barely able to move fueled the anger in Lucille’s chest. Once again it roared into life, hot and solid. She squeezed Agnes’s shoulder, plucked the knife from the wooden floor, and shot to her feet. Tears were now freely streaming from her eyes, but she only wiped them aggressively as she kicked the chapel doors open.
Cold wind blasted through, meeting her like a punch in the gut. Her skin prickled, but surprisingly it wasn’t because of the temperature. It was because of the sheer vastness of the hallway that stretched before her.
The ceiling, which was painted with strange-looking winged creatures, was so high that she had to crane her neck to see. There were chandeliers hanging on it in strategic points, but none of the candles were lit. The wax was frozen in drips, like the icicles stuck on the tree branches outside. Paintings in faded golden frames were hung on the gray brick walls, which were covered with a thin layer of greenish grime, shining under the orange light of the settings sun seeping through the dirty windows. The floor was cold and slick as well, but she managed to keep her footing as she ran along the wide space.
Apart from her own breathing and her footsteps, she heard no other movement. The house was as still as a cathedral, and just as eerie.
It did nothing more but to feed her anger.
“Show yourself!” she challenged Cade, even though she wasn’t sure he could hear her. “Show yourself, you coward!”
Fire danced at the tips of her fingers as she swerved around a corner. A strong urge to set the entire place on fire was overcoming her, but she forced it down and continued to jog along the hallway until she found a spiral staircase that led to a tower with skylights. She was about to go up when she heard a whooshing sound behind her.
She whipped around, and sure enough, zooming from the other end of the hallway, was Cade.
He was no longer made of smoke, but once again he was bearing no marks from his most recent encounter with her. His face was as smooth and as flawless as ever, perhaps even too smooth and flawless. His clothes were in pristine condition. He was slowly walking towards her with a smile, but even from this distance, his perfect, untouched state made him seem like a mannequin, an animated puppet.
Lucille blasted a wave of fire in his face, using the knife like a pointer to direct the flames.
Cade swatted her magic into nonexistence like it was a mere irksome fly. Then he sent a bolt of black energy at her, which she narrowly missed by swerving. The smoke collided into a painting and exploded in a thick puff, and instantly the paint on the canvas began to melt. The frame fell and began to crumble into dust.
She fired at him again, and like before, he easily deflected her blow.
“Easy there!” he said playfully, still approaching her. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
With that, he attacked with another shot of that shadowy smoke. This time, it sank into the brick wall and spread out like a drop of ink in water. The green gunk that covered the surface darkened and began to eat at the bricks. Cracks appeared on the wall, sending an echoing sound all around the hallway. Bits of the bricks rained down on the floor and were all reduced into ashes.
It seemed that whatever his power was, it was perfectly capable of disintegrating any solid surface into nothing but powder.
Which meant that Agnes was in deeper danger than she’d thought.
Lucille propelled another bolt of fire at him, but before it could make contact, he zoomed towards her in unbelievable speed as though he was about to tackle her. Panic seized her heart. She stepped aside to avoid him, all the while willing her magic to wrap around her hand. However, before she could have a go at him, he grabbed her broken wrist and yanked her upward.
The next thing she knew, she was being carried upward along the tower.
The surroundings became a blur of colors. She herself felt nauseated by the hot pain in her wrist. She could no longer concentrate on summoning her powers. Being this close to him, even though she couldn’t see or feel him with her, was enough to make her skin crawl, her insides writhe. The knife was still in her other hand, and she twisted it stab at his general direction.
She felt him flinch. She expected his grip on her to loosen, but it didn’t. Rather, one hand closed around her neck while the other stayed on her injured wrist like a vise. His ascent began to change direction, going farther left than up. Then, the next thing she knew, she was being slammed against the wall.
Thud. The back of her head smacked against the slimy brick wall. Something hot and thick began to trickle down her hair. The world had gone completely black for a moment, but when her vision came back, all she could see were still the streaks of colors. She wanted to stab him again as they ascended, but her remaining strength only permitted her to hold onto it as tightly as she could. The wind seemed to be pressing down on her, making pressure build up in her ear and in her nasal cavity.
Just when she thought she’d pass out from the torture of it all, she found her feet touching splintery wood.
Lucille fell to her knees, retching. Now for sure, she thought, Cade would end her and she would have no means to defend herself.
She swallowed back the bitter taste in her mouth, forcing herself to look up as Cade’s shadow crossed in front of her. She waited for the black energy to reappear, to render her barely alive like Agnes, but it didn’t come. After a few seconds, her vision had cleared. He was indeed standing over her, but he wasn’t doing anything.
Cade took a step forward, and that was when she saw his expression.
Sad. Regretful. Apologetic.
Was this a trick of the light? she wondered, propping herself up against the floor with shaking, unsteady elbows. Or was it just his strategy to get her to lower her guard?
Either way, she couldn’t move.
But Cade didn’t attack. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry.”
The words echoed in Lucille’s ears. She squinted up at him, but the glare of the setting sun was too strong for her to look into his eyes clearly.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. There was something shining on his cheeks. His hand was trembling as he extended it towards her, and even when he gripped her by the neck, he was still shaking. “I’m so sorry. . . .”
Cade lifted her by the neck. She kicked out and tried to reach him with the knife, but he already had her at arms’ length. His palm dug into her throat, his fingers squeezing so hard she could see spots in her vision.
As though that wasn’t enough, he turned around and kicked the window.
Glass shards flew everywhere. The wind rushed inside the tower. He let out a shaky exhale, then he dangled her out of the broken window, right above the snow-covered rocks below.
Lucille wanted to slash his arm with her knife, but she knew that it was a risk she couldn’t take. Her oxygen was starting to run out. She was gasping for air now, but she forced herself to focus on the man in front of her.
And just like she thought, he was crying.
For one single, fleeting moment, she saw the version of him that she had fallen in love with twice—vulnerable and scared.
She remembered the shift in his form from a while ago at the chapel, those times when he seemed to snap out of his angry, sarcastic trance. She remembered what Agnes had said, about him changing into some kind of a corrupted spirit, an embodiment of all his worst traits.
But maybe the better parts of him were still here, and they were still struggling to be seen.
She saw them now as she met his wide, frightened eyes.
Cade squeezed her neck harder. Lucille was beginning to lose strength, but she still decided to raise her broken hand to touch his face and say, “Don’t let it take over you.”