Orange-red flames twitched and danced like merry puppets on the mystery woman's fingertips. I hissed in a breath and shrank back against Annabella, pressing my body into hers. A Fire elemental. Of all the magic users, of all the elementals, they were the ones who scared me the most. Their magic was hot, hungry, and cruel, and nothing at all like the soft, soothing murmurs of the stones as they sang me to sleep.
My mother's hands began to glow blue-white with her Ice magic. Eira gathered her strength, her power, her elemental magic, until it formed a shimmering ball so cold that it made my teeth chatter, even here, thirty feet above her.
The Fire elemental countered by increasing the flames on her hands, shooting out her own intense heat. I could feel it up here too-the hot, pulsing power. And that scared me more than anything else had so far. The Fire elemental was strong-just as strong as my mother was-and now they were going to duel.
To the death.
They faced each other, my mother and this abstract pair of burning hands. Then, with one thought, they threw their magic at each other.
The elemental Fire and Ice crashed together. Steam, smoke, and colorful sparks filled the room, the whole house even, making it hard to breathe. Their magic flickered against my skin, each one cracking across my flesh like hot and cold whips. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming at the sensation. I don't know how long they stood there, locked in this deadly battle, their magic warring against each other's.
But the Fire elemental was stronger.
She overcame my mother's magic one slow, agonizing inch at a time. The Fire burning on the ends of her fingertips expanded, getting closer and closer to Eira, evaporating all of the elemental Ice that she managed to form. Sweat and soot covered my mother's beautiful face, and strain tightened her slender neck. Eira wavered just for a second, just for an instant, and her blue eyes flicked up to the banister, first to Annabella, then to me.
"I'm sorry," I thought I saw her mouth to us.
Then her strength, her Ice, her magic, left her, and the elemental Fire swept over her.
One moment, my mother was there. The next, the blackened shell that had been her body crumpled to the floor. Bits of ash flaked off her charred remains at the impact and drifted up to me. Horrid, macabre confetti that settled on my face, my hands, my hair.
I started to scream-and scream-and scream, but Annabella clamped her cold hand over my mouth and shook me. The sharp motion penetrated my shrieking panic.
"Don't scream," she whispered. "Don't you dare scream. Don't make any noise at all. Go get Bria and slip out of the house. Run as fast as you can. I'll slow down the Fire elemental."
"No, Annabella! She'll kill you too!"
I tried to grab my sister's arm, but she evaded me and pounded down the stairs. She made it all the way to our mother's body. Annabella crouched down and started to touch her but thought better of it. Then her head snapped up, and she raised her hands, forming her own ball of Ice.
Once more, I saw a pair of burning hands. Annabella wasn't as strong as our mother had been. She never had a chance. My big sister tried to defend herself, tried to form a shield of solid Ice, but the searing flames roared through her magic like it wasn't even there, slammed into her chest, and ignited her white gown. For a moment, she looked like a candle, pretty, light, blond. And then she was gone. As dead and charred as my mother.
I swallowed my screams and turned away from the horrific sight. Bria. I had to get Bria. We had to get out of the house. We had to hide-hide or die...
"Gin! Gin! Wake up!"
I gasped in a breath and sat straight up in bed, like I was Frankenstein's monster that had just been electrified back to life. It took me a moment to realize that someone was holding me. My eyes slowly focused on Bria, who was standing over me, her hands on my shoulders like she'd been trying to shake me awake. I shuddered out an exhalation and came the rest of the way back to myself.
"I'm okay now," I rasped, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. "Really. You can let go now."
She did as I asked, and I flopped down onto the bed, every part of me weak, limp, shaking, and exhausted. Bria didn't say anything, but I could feel her eyes on me in the darkness.
"So," I murmured. "How loud was I screaming this time?"
"Loud enough to wake me," Bria replied. "I thought that maybe someone had broken into the house. That maybe some of the bounty hunters had tracked us here."
"No, it was just me and my psychosis. I'm sorry that I woke you. Usually, there's no one around to hear me scream."
She was silent for a moment. "What-what were you dreaming about?"
I shrugged. "The usual. The night that our mother and Annabella died. I always see different parts of it, different bits and pieces."
"What did you see tonight?"
I grimaced, even though she couldn't see it in the darkness. "Oh, tonight was a real doozy. I dreamed about watching them die, about seeing them both disappear into balls of flames as Mab's elemental Fire washed over them."
"Oh."
Bria didn't ask me to elaborate on what I'd seen, and I didn't offer to tell her. It was one thing to know that your family had been murdered, to live your whole life with that pain, with that pulsing, hollow ache in your chest. It was another to hear the play-by-play, color commentary from someone who'd been there. From your big sister, who hadn't been able to do a damn thing to save the rest of your family.
I rolled over, turning away from her. Moonlight slipped in through the lace curtains, slicing everything with its silver cracks. That's how I felt right now-cold and cracked and hollow and empty.
"I'm sorry that I woke you, Bria. You can go back to bed now. I'll be fine. I usually never have more than one of those dreams a night," I said. "So go. Try to get some rest."
I waited for her to turn around, close the door behind her, and leave. I waited for the sound of her footsteps to fade away. I waited for the ache of her absence and alienation to fill me once more.
Instead of leaving, Bria lifted up the covers and crawled into bed with me. She hesitated, then scooted over next to me, until we were spooned together. It was something that we used to do when we were little girls. One of us would have a bad dream and would go get into bed with the other. Somehow, the two of us-together-were always able to go back to sleep, with no more bad dreams or nightmares.
It was something that I hadn't thought about in years, but now I remembered all those nights, and I knew that Bria did too. My baby sister moved closer still to me, her arm slipping up and over my waist, hugging me to her just the faintest bit.