She slows to an easier speed as a trickle of light brightens the stone archway, and makes the sharp turn into the bell tower without coming to a complete stop. Navigating the treacherous spiral stairs is, however, not as simple. Each step creaks when she places her weight on it, some even buckle. Now and then, there’s a precarious crack underfoot, driving her forward or making her freeze.
The spiral structure trembles and questionable handrail shakes as Golvath bounds up the staircase. Each step he takes reverberates up her legs and spine. Rachel doesn’t look back, can’t stop. She propels herself forward, no longer worrying about falling through an iffy, rotten step. There’s no time to worry.
A black tendril caresses the back of her mind, whispering sweet nothings as it searches for a way through the mental wall. Whenever that darkness senses a weakening in her defenses, it probes deeper or strikes unexpectedly. The mental attacks leave behind something akin to a thick, sticky, poisonous residue.
—and kill you—
Golvath’s—thankfully distorted—thought pops into her head.
Rachel falters and grabs onto the tilting handrail to steady herself. She chances a look behind her, only to see the Fae charging up. With every huff, his nostrils flare.
“You should think about getting a gym membership!”
The red-faced Fae releases a scream of fury through his labored breaths, before he starts taking two steps at a time to catch up to her.
“Oh, crap.”
Rachel stops taunting and runs up the remainder of the stairs, hoping Mercia, Orion, and Dougal have some type of plan to get her safely down from the bell tower before Golvath can sink his claws into her.
Rickety wood gives way to stone as she runs onto the narrow walkway that surrounds the suspended rusting bell in the center. She leans over the side, searching for a familiar face on the ground.
“You think you’re so smart, but you’ve literally trapped yourself for me,” Golvath says.
Rachel pivots, still holding onto the stone sidewall, and circles the bell. There are only so many places she can go from here.
“Oh, have you run out of witticisms now?” He calmly walks around the walkway, his gaze never wavering from hers. Golvath licks his lips, grins. “I’m going to take my sweet time with you, Rachel Cleary.”
He darts forward, outstretched arms and long fingers grabbing at her. His one hand becomes entangled in her hair, the other takes hold of her shirt. She screams as he jerks her back to him, ripping strands of hair from her skull.
Rachel twists around, brings her elbow up, and hits him square in the face. At the same time, she lifts her leg with as much force as she can muster and knees him right in the groin.
Golvath howls. He releases her a second time, then drops onto his knees. Rachel rushes out of his grasp, backing away as he falls forward and rolls onto his side, writhing in pain.
“You bitch,” he bites out.
A few seconds, a minute at most, is all the time she’s bought herself. Rachel shifts the shiv, preparing to use it, as she turns around and searches the ground again. Mercia stands there, a speck on the pavement below, staring back at her. She screams something up at Rachel, something indecipherable through the magic surrounding the school.
“What?”
Mercia’s silent scream is accompanied by hand gestures.
Rachel shakes her head. “I can’t hear you.”
“Stupid mistake.” Golvath’s breath hits her face.
Rachel spins around, thinking she still has a few seconds to get out of his reach, but he’s right behind her. So close. Too close.
She gasps just as he wraps his hands around her neck.
Golvath leans closer, until there’s no space between their bodies and they’re both half-lying over the sidewall. His fingers press against her windpipe, blocking off her air. Spite fills his blue eyes; a vindictive smile mars his otherwise handsome face.
Rachel reaches with her free hand and rakes her nails down his cheek.
His skin breaks in places, angry red welts appear almost immediately. He hisses, but doesn’t relent, only squeezes her neck harder, pushes her back with more force.
Her lungs are on fire. She gapes like a fish as she searches for oxygen, just a single breath, but nothing passes through.
“I’m going to watch the life leave you.”
With no other card to play, she shifts the shiv forward and pulls her arm back as far as she can. The world seems to slow down as she uses all of her remaining might to thrust the sharp, metal tip toward Golvath’s jugular vein. Rachel watches the shiv move closer, closer, closer, and then stop a hairsbreadth from reaching her intended target.
Golvath’s smile broadens as she struggles against the invisible hand keeping her arm in midair.
“Did you think you could keep me out forever?” His voice rings through her mind, the dark tendril breaking down the mental wall, brick by brick. “Drop it.”
Her hand opens at his order, fingers splay, and her arm relaxes. The shiv drops, rolls, and probably disappears down the bell tower. Her only weapon, only hope of survival, falls out of her reach.
Golvath looks past her and shouts, “You’re not strong enough to break through my spells, Prince. The best you can do is to watch her die.”
Rachel’s eyes roll back as she attempts to catch a glimpse of Orion.
Using what little strength remains, she forces her hands up to her neck, scratching and gouging and pulling at his fingers.
Air. Need air.
Golvath laughs at her futile attempts.
The edges of Rachel’s blurry vision darken.
Suddenly she’s in a meadow, the moonlight shining down on a girl in a white nightdress with her golden hair gently blowing in a soft breeze. Tears streak her face as she picks up a red and yellow can by her feet.
“Please don’t do this.” Her voice quivers almost as much as her hands tremble. “Please.” She lifts the can over her head and tilts it until clear liquid runs out of the spout. The girl cries louder as she douses herself. Her golden hair goes limp, nightdress sticks
