‘We’re not going to kill them,’ Ember had said to Nate. ‘That’s the loophole. We’re going to use their ability not to be killed against them.’
‘I don’t get it.’
‘They can only predict our move if they actually die, right? That’s the trigger. That’s what the spell dictates. That’s what enables them to travel back those ten minutes or so they have in order to prevent it. But what if we put them in a position where they can’t do anything to prevent it? That’s the key.’
His brow furrowed at first before, finally, he raised his eyebrows slightly.
‘The loophole is to create a long enough timeframe between them dying and being able to do anything about it,’ she continued. ‘A bullet, a stab wound, strangulation, that’s all too quick. But a death that takes days to come into fruition, a death that, even when they see it coming, they’re in a position preventing them from doing anything about it… that’s way outside of their parameters.’
‘You’re going to starve them,’ he said. ‘You’re going to make them die of thirst.’
‘Worse-case scenario, if the spell constitutes it as natural causes, they die within a few days – no bounce back.’
‘Best-case scenario?’
‘My interference will dictate to the contrary of it being natural causes. They’ll die, they’ll jump back those few minutes, only to find themselves already bound as it would have taken anything up to a few days to get to that point. They die again, they jump back, they die again, they jump back. And each time, they’ll know it’s coming. They’ll have to face that fate, those days of agony, over and over again. Until, eventually, their body will deteriorate. It’s bound to. And that cavern is perfect for it, Nate. We can secure them in a place where no one else can get to them.’
‘You think you can do that? Leave them down there? Simply walk away?’
‘Give them long enough to think? To let them know what it feels like to be trapped with no way out? To face the same agony day after day? To feel helpless, weak? To feel that level of fear of being at someone else’s mercy. To feel all the things they have thrived on inflicting on others? I think it’s the least I can do,’ Ember had said. ‘I think it’s the very least they deserve.’
Jonah stirred first as Ember finished securing his sister to the hoops melded into the rock on the opposite side of the room from him.
Perspiration trickled down Ember’s neck and chest from the exertion, from the heat of the furnace, her hands damp as she tightened the knots making sure there was no hope of Antonia escaping.
As soon as Jonah realised what was happening, he bucked violently in his restraints, the gag tight around his mouth – removal of his freedom of speech the final indignity Ember had bestowed on him. An indignity he had inflicted on many.
His face reddened, his cheeks puffing with fury, his eyes blazing with hatred and resentment as he glowered at Ember.
It was a matter of moments before Antonia stirred too, coming around more languidly than her brother had, giving Ember time to stand equidistant between them, her back to the furnace.
She’d left Antonia ungagged, hoping that, as a result, Jonah would suffocate first, so she would have those few moments over and over again of watching him die first. That small, ever so small payback for that night Ember had stood by and watched her brother being snatched from her life forever too.
The darkness around her pulsed, not helped by the flicker of the furnace, as Antonia finally came around fully, and finally understood the situation.
Because she knew without doubt that Antonia would understand – a brilliant mind used for most of her life to inflict injustice on others.
‘You clever, manipulative, sneaky little bitch,’ Antonia hissed under her breath, her narrowed eyes fixed on Ember.
The jury was still out as to whether she would beg for her life. The woman who had never had to beg for anything.
Ember offered her a simple shrug. ‘I’ll take that. I’ll own it.’
Antonia glanced back over at her brother still furiously trying to free himself. She exhaled tersely as she looked away before chuckling to herself – a slightly maniacal chuckle laced with the realisation of her own helplessness.
‘I must admit,’ Antonia said, glaring back at her. ‘I can appreciate the irony of it.’
‘Me too,’ Ember said.
‘See,’ Antonia added. ‘I knew we’d understand each other.’
‘I think the evidence in front of us shows I understand you more than you understand me.’
‘Turning so soon into a true witch? Capable of this kind of cruelty to get your own way within an hour of your initiation? I think I know your kind well enough. I knew your father, your brother, well enough. Excuse the cliché, but the apple never falls far from the tree, Ember.’
‘And not all apples that fall are rotten, Antonia. Whatever my family did, whatever those links to the past, it ends today.’ She glanced at the furnace. She glanced back at Antonia. ‘This is not what this spell was intended for. The problem was you. The problem was your brother. By the sounds of it, your father before you. My family may have started this, but I’m ending it. Now.’
Antonia’s eyes flared a little, the first glimpse of genuine uncertainty behind them. There was a minor tremble to her upper lip as she twisted her wrists warily in her binds.
‘You can’t do this, Ember,’ she said. ‘Murder is not as easy as you think.’
‘No?’
‘No. You’re not the type. You’ll come back here. I know you will.’
‘Will I?’ Ember asked, keeping her gaze steady. She wandered over towards her. She crouched in front of her. ‘Well, let me make you this promise. If I get tempted, I’ll remember how your brother allowed – sorry, incited – the beating of a kind, helpless, innocent old man to death. And then maybe, maybe I might come back to my senses and leave you both down here to rot in this hell.’ She stood. Glared down into Antonia’s eyes. ‘But if you believe differently, if that’s what gives you hope over the next few days, you cling on to it.’ Ember sent her a fleeting smile, before losing it again. ‘You’ll realise soon enough. Because all I see is countless more people going the same way as Jasper did if I let you out of here.’
She stepped away. She headed towards the steps.
‘So what do you want, huh? An apology? A deal? You want me to beg?’
‘Are you even capable of begging, Antonia?’
Antonia exhaled tersely again.
‘No,’ Ember said. ‘I didn’t think so.’
Her foot reached the bottom step.
‘Don’t do this,’ Antonia pleaded. ‘I will give you whatever you want. Everything you want.’
Ember headed back over to her. She crouched in front of her as they were at eye level. ‘You already are,’ she said.
‘Please,’ Antonia said.
Ember held her gaze, watched the flames flickering behind her eyes again, held her on a knife-blade of anticipation. Held her on a thread.
Satisfied, she stood.
‘No,’ Ember said. ‘I don’t think so. Instead, I’d rather you know what it’s like to have your fate in someone else’s hands for a change. You reap what you sow, Antonia. I told you, tonight this ends – right where it all began.’