Drowning with Fire #3 ✔

Chapter 19 - Theo

With countless worries numbing my mind, I sat with my chin resting on folded hands as I stared unseeingly out of the dining room window. There was nothing to see on the street outside; it seemed like all the action with Victoria had sucked all potential energy for something else to happen out of the day.

We'd spent hours discussing what to do next, without deciding on anything at all. Morning slid into mid-afternoon, which was quickly blearing into early evening.

I'd slowly convinced myself that Victoria was the instigator for Kaden's transition – regardless of the fact that she couldn't exactly explain it to us; or explain anything else, for that matter. Mutilating tongues wasn't something I thought hunters did – let alone it being beyond the presumed capabilities of a witch's dad, for Christ's sake.

<Wanna talk about it?> Thea's thoughts from the room next door to the dining room floated through.

<Not really.>

We'd left Al and Wednesday to work some protective charms around the house, while Halia soaked in the bathtub into which she'd poured a shit ton of salt. Withdrawal symptoms from the sea, I guess.

Thea and Ryder were supposed to be reading any of Alistair Mortelle's books that mentioned curses and/or demonic possession and/or resurrection. In a non-biblical sense, of course. Though they still seemed to be struggling to understand Alistair's ordering on the bookshelf that wrapped around his entire study.

"Is it alphabetical? Or... order of importance?" Ryder's voice sounded through the wall, running his fingers along the books' spines.

"Can't we just Google it?" Thea sighed impatiently, her fingers drumming on the desk.

I zoned them out again – knowing Ryder would probably tell her how unreliable Google is when it comes to supernatural research.

Reaching behind my neck, I unclasped the iron urn necklace and placed it on the table in front of me. It was hard to believe that such a small and dull-looking vessel was entrusted to carry the soul of the girl I love. Hard to believe that a few mere pinches of her ashes would be enough to resurrect her, and bring her back from the void of death.

One day and two nights left.

And she shall rise from the ashes.

Time passes slower than when you're waiting for something; waiting without the capability to do anything to speed it up.

A shaft of afternoon light filtered through the window and caught on the iron, casting a pattern on the table. Turning my attention away from Victoria and Kaden and whatever might've gone on between them, I closed my fingers around the urn and turned it to see a pattern engraved on both sides.

On one side, there was the ankh. That chilling symbol of rebirth that I was still struggling to positively associate with Ember. I traced the ridge of my thumb nail around the loop and down the ankh's stem, disregarding the ache in my chest near my heart.

The centre of my chest prickled as I remembered the ankh that dream-Ember-not-Ember had branded into me. It still hadn't healed; most likely due to the fact it was branded with silver... But I couldn't wait for it to disappear – it felt like violation on my body. It did not feel like it linked me to Ember in a good way.

I could see the ankh clearly, but there was something else engraved on the other side.

It was a miniscule indentation, and therefore only slightly visible – even for me. So I let my control slip and switched to my wolf eyes; and the engraving became clearer.

The seemingly random collection of circular depressions in the metal work had to have meant something... Frowning, I held it up so that the sunlight would catch it once again, and thin lines soon revealed themselves to be connecting the circles.