Chapter 44

Finnian leaned his head against the rough bark of the tree behind him, the light fading quickly around him. He could picture the look on Abbott’s face as he had said he liked him, too. Heart quickening, he shook his head. They could think about relationships when Abbott was cured.

He began to worry as they neared the hour mark of Abbott going inside, biting his lip.

He couldn’t hear anything that was going on inside, and he didn’t like that. He thought

about putting his ear against the door, but he also knew that Abbott had wanted to do it

on his own, and he didn’t want to violate Abbott’s wishes. He just had to keep telling

himself that Abbott was fine. He was fine.

He stood, dusting off the dirt from the bottom of his cloak, and began to pace back

and forth, clouds of dirt rising from underneath him in the dying light every time he

swiveled back and forth. Running his fingers through his curls, he suddenly wished he

had gotten his cloak back from the jail. The temperature seemed to be dropping rapidly,

bringing goosebumps to his bare arms.

He turned to pace the other direction and found himself staring into violet eyes,

creased at the corners with the telltale sign of a wicked grin.

“Hello, Finnian,” O’Leary said. “I’m so glad to meet you properly. Let’s have a little

talk, no?”

Finnian couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. He needed a weapon, but he was empty-

handed. Think, think…

O’Leary laughed. “Of course, the only correct answer is yes. Otherwise, I’ll kill you.”

He shrugged matter of factly, purple fire beginning to spark along the hem of his robes.

“I don’t think we want that, do we? Besides, it’s not you I want. So if you want to live,

stay quiet and do as I say. Otherwise, you die along with your boyfriend. It’s your choice.”

Abbott sat in silence as his life crashed down around him for the ninetieth time that week. He blinked slowly, staring at Eleanor.

“I… I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard that correctly. Did you say you cannot? Because if

that’s what you said, then I’m about to lose it.” He took a heaving breath, pressing his

fingertips onto the table aggressively. “I did not walk here for three days for you to tell me

some sob story and then say you can’t help me. I’m dying here. Cut me some goddamn

slack, Eleanor, or get the hell out of my sight.”

Eleanor remained stone faced, shaking her head slightly. “I cannot undo the curse.

There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”

Abbott couldn’t hear over the waves of fury crashing down upon him, filling his ears

with the buzzing of rage. He fought to keep his voice steady. “If you can’t help me, why

the hell did you bring me here?” He began to stand from the chair, raising himself over

Eleanor, staring down upon her unmoving face. “Did you just want to have storytime or

something? Because you could have easily told me you couldn’t help me three days ago and

let me spend the final days of my life happy. Instead, I walked my ass all over this

kingdom and back for you, and for what? For what, Eleanor?”

She pressed her lips together in a thin line, no emotion showing on her face

whatsoever. “He needed you here. All I want is to be free, Abbott. I hope you

understand.”

Understanding dawned on Abbott’s face. “Him? O’Leary? You lured me here for him?

This was a trap all along. I should have known not to trust you, you absolute-”

She interrupted him, her composure breaking slightly. “I knew you would be upset.

Please understand that it’s nothing personal-”

“Nothing personal, huh?” Abbott could feel his shoulders stiffening and shaking from

suppressed emotion. “If it was nothing personal, you wouldn’t have lured me here. You

know what he wants to do to me. I should have known better.” He squeezed his eyes

tight, a headache forming behind his forehead. “I’m too blind. And you’re a liar.”

If Eleanor would have had eyes, they would have surely teared up by then. “Abbott.

Please listen to me. This Alastair isn’t the man I knew. I’m stuck here until he’s gone. One

way or another, I’m going to get my freedom. It doesn’t matter what it costs.”

Abbott swallowed down the fear. “It does matter what it costs, because it’s going to cost

me my goddamn life, Eleanor. I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me, Eleanor-” His voice

broke as the volume rose- “He’s going to kill me and you’re just going to look on and do

nothing. If you’re my mom, then I’m glad we died before I had to grow up with you. I.

Hate. You.”

He spun on one foot, Eleanor protesting quietly behind him, and threw the door open,

shouting a frantic warning out to Finnian. “He’s here, Finn!”

But he was too late.

Finnian saw Abbott throw the door of the hut open, screaming something he couldn’t make out, and he began straining against the ropes of violet fire that held him to the single tree in the middle of the clearing. He couldn’t let Abbott die. He couldn’t let him die. He had to protect Abbott, but he was entirely useless- bound to a tree, a gag over his mouth, nothing more than a bargaining token.

He was some twenty paces away, but even in the dying light, Finnian could see the

pain on Abbott’s face- but he didn’t seem surprised, as though he already knew what he

would find. Was this a trap all along?

He struggled against the ropes, but they began to compress tighter, sliding around his

body like a living snake. He couldn’t breathe- they were constricting his chest, and he was

beginning to hyperventilate on top of everything.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see O’Leary standing completely still, a matching

whip of purple fire seemingly sprouting from his hand itself. Waiting for his prey to step

into the circle and seal his fate. It was only a matter of time.

Abbott moved forward on silent feet, freezing at the edge of the clearing, which was

almost perfectly round. It still radiated that sense of magic, but Abbott still wasn’t too

sure whose side the magic was on. He just had to hope that it would come to his defense.

If it took O’Leary’s side- he was surely dead.

But he was going to die either way. If he was going to go out, it would be in a blaze of

glory, saving Finnian and taking O’Leary down. If he entered the clearing, O’Leary

wouldn’t leave. He would make sure of that if it was the last thing he would do- and

chances were, it would be the last thing.

He took a single step into the ring of trees, the sound returning as he trod on the

leaves. He crossed the clearing to the single sprawling oak in the middle silently, his eyes

fixed on O’Leary. He could see Finnian struggling, bound to the tree, and his heart felt as

though someone were stabbing needles into it. He knew one thing, though- O’Leary

would not lay another hand on Finnian if Abbott was there. Abbott would have to play

the hero one final time.

The seconds seemed like hours before he was standing in front of O’Leary, less than a

pace away. Neither made a move- a single violet whip crackled in O’Leary’s hand,

dropping sparks into the grass, where they fizzled out from the evening dew.

The tension was so thick that Abbott could have cut it with his knife, which he

removed from his waistband casually, but kept at his side, waiting for Alastair to break the

silence. He would not give in. He would not show fear. He would not speak first.

Minutes passed before O’Leary sighed. “Not talkative much, are you? Although, you

never have been- unless strangers come into the shoppe. Then you run away with them,

eh? Fall in love? I see how it is.”

Abbott set his jaw, staring at Alastair over the top of his vision. He knew that the man

would spit straight insults at him, toying with his emotions. He knew how O’Leary

worked. He also knew that he could not react. He couldn’t let O’Leary get to him. He

refused.

“I was somewhat of a romantic myself, as I’m sure Eleanor told you. I owe this all to her, of course. You were so desperate to talk to her that she was able to lure you in here. I’m not sure why, besides the fact that you’re hopeless.” He laughed cruelly, the noise ringing in Abbott’s ears.

Abbott ignored his former master, which he would have never dared to do before, but something else was lining up in his mind. Alastair didn’t know why he had come, which he guessed meant he didn’t know about the curse. Interesting...

“I know you found my little paper, Abbott. And I’m sure you were able to figure out what it meant. Even though you don’t act like it, I know there’s a brain in there somewhere.”

Abbott’s fingers twitched around the knife, but he forced himself to keep his hands at his sides.

“I need you to know that it’s not you, Abbott.” He paused, cocking his head as though

he were listening to a small voice on his shoulder, then broke out in a smile. “Oh wait. It

is you. You need to die.”

Abbott’s jaw was beginning to ache from clenching his teeth together, but he made sure

he stayed quiet.

“I need your abilities, Abbott. I need your power. I need to have what you have. You

have absolutely no idea what kind of magic lies inside of you, Abbott. You have no idea

how to use it. I do. It’s only natural that you give it up to me. It’s not my fault that

requires your death.”

The words slipped out from between Abbott’s teeth. “You know why I have that

magic?”

O’Leary raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Tell me. I’m curious indeed.”

Abbott took a deep breath. “You’re my father.”

The grin slipped off of O’Leary’s face. “It can’t be,” he muttered to himself. “There’s

no… I didn’t…”

“Your wife gave me life. My parents couldn’t have kids. She used the soul of your

stillborn baby to create me. Our powers are one and the same, Alastair. We are equals in

every way, but I will always be better than you. Why, you might ask?” He drew himself up

to full height, the green glow coming into his eyes, but it wasn’t a vision. It was the magic

rearing its head against O’Leary, refusing to be held captive by him anymore. He could

feel the clearing humming along with the powers inside of him.

“Because I am the better version of you. We went through the same things, Alastair.

You came out of it a villain, bitter at the world, filled with hate and spite and rage. I’ve

taken all that I dealt with and used it to build myself up, to make myself stronger. I know

that I am not the same person I used to be, and it’s all thanks to you.”

He could see O’Leary’s flames falter, flickering slightly, but they sprung back stronger

than ever. He furrowed his grey brow, and with a flick of his whip, Abbott was entangled,

bound like Finnian, who struggled out of the corner of his eye.

Abbott didn’t move, though. He lifted his chin as O’Leary roped him in, staring him in

the eyes defiantly.

Alastair snarled down at him. “You will pay, boy. I am no father of yours. I don’t care

what Eleanor says-” he spat the name out as though it were a swear word- “but you are

not my son. You never have, and you never will be.”

Abbott took in a shallow breath, baring his teeth. “Good.”

“I will take your powers. You will not fight me anymore, or I will kill your little

Finnian.”

He squeezed his free hand into a fist and the ropes around Finnian tightened further.

He cried out, his back arching into the wood, as his vision dimmed.

All the anger seemed to flood out of Abbott and puddle at his feet at the sight of

Finnian in pain. He knew that O’Leary wouldn’t hesitate to kill them both.

“If I give myself up, will you promise to let him go? I mean it. I want him set free, and

I want you to promise never to harm him again, or anyone in his family.”

O’Leary seemed to consider this. The whip twitched around Abbott’s body, his knife

dropping out of his hands and onto the leaves below with a soft whisper. Alastair stared

down at it, leaning to pick it up and tossing it in his hand, the light glinting off the silver

blade.

“I remember this old thing. I thought I took it away from you a long time ago. I

should have. It certainly gave me a slight setback.”

“Alastair.” Abbott tried to keep the urgency out of his voice as Finnian’s head fell to his

chest out of the corner of his eye, his curls falling over his face.

“Ah.” He turned, snapping his fingers. The ropes loosened slightly, and Abbott could

see Finnian take a deep breath, blinking his eyes dazedly.

“I suppose. If you give yourself to me, the boy will be set free.”

Abbott swallowed. He was going to die anyway. He just had to take O’Leary down with him- and he had a hunch that burned in the back of his mind. He just hoped that it was true.

“Fine. You have a deal, then. Just…” His voice broke. Damnit. He didn’t want to show

emotions. He would die with a stony face. “Make it quick, okay?”

Finnian was still stirring, his lips an odd shade of blue that sent shivers through

Abbott’s spine. Alastair followed Abbott’s gaze, his pulse thumping in his ears. It was

finally happening. He was going to be unstoppable.

He began to walk over to the tree, dragging Abbott along with him. Two fingers

reached out and lifted Finnian’s head from his chest as he blinked heavily. “Wake up, lad.

I want you to see this. I want you to remember this. Forever.”

“Please,” Abbott begged. “Just get it over with. He doesn’t need to-”

Finnian held his own head up, his eyes widening at the knife in Alastair’s hand, then

moving to Abbott, bound. A small whisper escaped his lips. “No…”

“Oh, but yes.Your boyfriend here has agreed to give his life for the promise of your

freedom. What a sweet little thing.”

Finnian’s mouth moved, but no words came out. “No. No. Abbott, please. No. Please.”

Abbott raised his head, avoiding Finnian’s gaze. He couldn’t bear to look.

“ Abbott. Tell me it isn’t true.” He took a heaving breath, his wrists straining against the

ropes. “Abbott.”

Abbott didn’t respond. He couldn’t open his mouth without screams coming out.

“ABBOTT.”

He shut his eyes tight as O’Leary spun the dagger in his hand. “I think it is only fitting

that I kill you the same way you tried to kill me, eh?”

“Abbott, please. Oh gods. Don’t. Don’t go. Abbott. Please. I thought you loved me.

ABBOTT.”

His heart pounded in his ears, his vision red through the slits of his eyes.

“It all comes full circle, Abbott. Finally.”

Finnian threw his head back as he arched his body, smashing into the tree with a

hollow thud. “Abbott. You can’t- don’t- please. I need you. Let him go!”

Abbott lifted his head higher as the knife approached his throat.

“You want quick? I’ll give you quick. It is the least I can do.”

Finnian was begging, the tears flowing down his face freely. “Please. Please stop. Please…

I can’t-”

Abbott felt the knife touch his throat, the silver crisp and frigid against his throat. He

opened his eyes one last time to see O’Leary staring down at him, a smile on his

weathered face.

He exhaled. He was ready.

Alastair pulled the knife across Abbott’s throat in one quick motion, slicing open the

flesh along with Finnian’s heart.

The ropes around Abbott dissolved and he fell forward, collapsing to his knees, before

his whole body hit the ground, lying on his side in a puddle of his own blood.

“Abbott. Abbott. Oh gods, Abbott. I’m so sorry- I- ABBOTT!”

Abbott’s body twitched once, twice, three times, then fell still. The whole world

seemed to freeze in that instant.

Finnian let out a guttural scream that should have awakened the dead- but it was

useless. Abbott was gone.

He lifted his head again and again, slamming it back over and over and over into the tree, waiting for the pain to end. Waiting for the darkness to claim him again. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw the sight in front of him- Abbott, laying on the ground, crimson spilling over the dead leaves, staining his cloak. Mingling with the earth.

Alastair stood over Abbott in a sort of disbelief. It had happened. He had done it. All

that was left was to take the boy’s powers for himself.

Abbott’s eyes were open, staring into nothing, but the green glow gradually began to

fade from them. Before the magic could be released into the world, Alastair knelt at the boy’s side, turning him over onto his back. The entire front of his neck was covered in sticky blood that gushed out of the wound. Alastair leaned over, placing his lips to the boy’s throat.

Finnian screamed again until he gagged, his voice horse. He couldn’t feel his body. He knew tears and snot and blood were covering him, but it felt as though he were watching from the sidelines, or perhaps going with Abbott. That would be nice.

Abbott’s blood slid down Alastair’s throat, warm and thick in his mouth. He could taste the iron, the metallic flavor on the tip of his tongue, the flavor that he lived for. He drank until Abbott’s neck ran dry, Finnian looking on all the while.

He had stopped screaming and instead stood in shock, his face drastically pale, whimpering. He couldn’t even raise his arms to wipe the snot from his nose, the tears from his face. Abbott wasn’t dead. He couldn’t have been. And if he was… It was all Finnian’s fault.

He had given his life to ensure Finnian’s safety. He couldn’t believe… he couldn’t believe that Abbott had been so angry with him just hours before, but willing to die for Finnian anyway. Any hope of a future had burst into violet flames, the trademark of O’Leary. He wished he could just die, join Abbott. But he wasn’t brave enough.

Alastair got to his feet slowly, crimson liquid still dripping from his mouth. He looked over at Finnian and gave him a slow smile, his teeth stained red from blood. Abbott’s blood.

Finnian could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat as he screamed unintelligibly again, this time at O’Leary. There were no words for what he felt, just pure, animalistic rage.

O’Leary simply laughed, flexing his fists. He closed his eyes, the clearing seeming to hum again, and then green strands of light began to make their way up Finnian’s bonds, twisting around the purple ropes like intertwining snakes.

Alastair stared down at them, proof that the ritual had worked. He could feel the buzzing inside of him as his own magic joined with Abbott’s, all becoming his own.

He leaned down and clapped Abbott’s lifeless body roughly on the shoulder, the boy’s head lolling slightly from the touch. “You did well, boy.”