I screamed.
Max returned his attention to me. “Endure, for it is your deserved fate. Seer, you used your abilities to lie, and for those lies, you will pay.”
The crowd cheered once more. It was clear they wanted to see me dead.
Though a second ago I’d been academically wondering whether this was a true vision or something else, now my heart told me that didn’t matter. Wherever I was, it was real enough to hurt. For Max thrust forward and slapped me. His hand impacted my cheek, my head jolting to the side. Though pain split down my face and into my neck, I didn’t move. I stood there, completely and utterly shocked.
The crowd continued to cheer, and my heart felt like it bottomed out and fell through my torso.
Trust me. Trust me, Chi. Max’s words suddenly played through my mind, his expression, too. All he’d ever wanted was for me to trust him. And yet, I had trusted him only to wind up here, only to—
Two men pushed forward from the crowd. Looping their arms through mine, they pulled me away through the village. I screamed and kicked, but there was nothing I could do.
I had no power to fight against them, so I turned my head, cast my pleading gaze on Max.
And for an instant – a single instant – I swear it had some effect, I swear his outrage and vehemence softened. But the moment didn’t last.
He turned from me and walked away.
I had to get out of here. Had to get out of here. The men were dragging me towards something in the center of the village, and a second later I realize what it was – a pyre. For burning bodies. This one, however, had a twist – a pole in the center that was no doubt designed to tie a person against. A live person. Me.
I bucked, now fighting with all my force. “No, please, there’s been some kind of mistake. I’m not from around here, not from this time. Please, stop. Max, help me,” I screamed at the top of my lungs. As I bucked and fought against the men dragging me towards the pyre, I shifted my head. It was just in time to see Max. Just in time to watch his hands curl into fists.
He may hate me, this Max may want to see me dad, but it was clear he nonetheless still had feelings for me. So I screamed his name again, breaking down, tears falling down my cheeks. “Max, please, help me. You owe me,” I suddenly added.
Now Max turned, right around. He faced me. Just before the men could haul me up onto the pyre and tie me to it, I brought up a hand. “Stop,” he bellowed.
The village seemed to freeze as one.
Max strode forward until he stopped right in front of me. By now my hair was a mess, all tangled in front of my face, all knotted down my back and shoulders. My shirt was all torn, all bunched up and ripped.
Max’s expression was unreadable. Maybe it was cold hatred, maybe it was submission.
Maybe it didn’t matter. He reached forward and slapped me once more. My head twisted to the side, eyes staring out blankly as my expression became dead, hollow.
“You deserve to burn, lying witch, but—” his voice bottomed out as he stopped, as he took a breath.
I couldn’t look at him.
And yet he waited for me, waited until I turned around. “But what?
“Mary McLane, you condemned this village, but you saved my life. And you’re right – that is worth something. It is worth a curse.”
My brow scrunched up. “Mary McLane? I’m not Mary McLane. I’m Chi. Just look at me. Look at me, Max. Look at what I’m wearing, look at my face.”
“I will agree that your manner of clothing and appearance has changed – but that does not matter. Witch, I understand your ways. And you will pay for them. Your entire line will pay for them. For now, you face me, for now, you beg me, I realize that death will be too sweet for you. No,” he brought his face close to mine, baring his teeth, “you deserve a far darker fate.”
At first, the crowd appeared disappointed when Max had stopped the execution. Now they roared and cheered in obvious pleasure.
I’d never felt colder as I faced Max. It felt as if my entire body was nothing more than snow and ice.
Max continued to face me, continued to sneer at me, his hatred so obvious it turned my stomach.
The crowd continued to cheer – their hateful shouts echoing and punching through my mind.
Max drew up a hand. It brought my attention to his palm. It was cut – carved through, in fact. It looked as if somebody had tried to carve a pattern with a knife right through his flesh.
It looked fresh, too. No, that wasn’t quite right – it went from looking fresh to looking old. Almost in the blink of an eye.
For it was magic.
The symbol on his palm was the strangest thing I’d ever seen. It was half a pentacle melded with an all-seeing eye.
He brought his palm up, and with the coldest frown spreading across his face, he walked towards me. Without hesitating, he pressed the center of his palm against my forehead.
I began to feel something drill through my head. It was honestly as if Max had plucked a power tool from his pocket and started to use my head to drive a nail through a wall.
I screamed, a shriek echoing through my throat, shaking through
