Fangs of Fate (Untish #1)

Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

TATE

Light, bright light was everywhere. My senses were overloaded and overwhelmed. I was burning, a living candle. Pain bloomed all over my skin, my toes, my hair. I could see through the flames, the blue-orange fire a lens that encased me. It danced in front of me, tantalizing. If I had been burning for moments or minutes, I wasn’t sure.

I should have already started turning to ash and yet, I didn’t.

My blood boiled within and burned. I was being seared. I should already be dead. My heart rate sped up and I released a scream. Pressure from within erupted and with it my handcuffs snapped. My right shoulder stung, magic clawing its way to the surface, resisting the burn. Refusing the purge. But it was futile. The fire consumed, it continued, it buried itself deep within my core. The pain at my shoulder intensified and I cried out. I needed to stop the burn.

I stood up and noticed the flames clung to me. I began to swat at them, panicking and trying to put them out. What did Tim always say? Stop, drop, and roll? It was worth a shot. I dropped to the ground and began to roll back and forth. Nothing, the light was brighter than ever. I had no idea if Mardi and James were still watching or not, I could only see fire, feel fire, hear fire. I desperately rolled back and forth, harder and faster, and still nothing.

I could hear a melody in the flame, a roar like no other, a strange song that called to my heart. Is this what death felt like? Was my soul passing on? If so, maybe it was time to accept it.

I stopped rolling and laid on my back. The melody grew stronger. I lifted my hands up in the air and stared at them. I could actually see their outline, it was no longer blocked by orange and blue flames, instead my hands were the flames—formed and shaped in a strawberry-orange fire.

I moved my arm to the left and the flames followed, momentarily dissipating before actualizing as my hand and arm again. Extraordinary. This must be death’s cruel way of messing with my consciousness. The melody grew louder, I could hear it beating and keeping in tune with my heart as it pumped the remaining boiled blood. I no longer felt pain. A calm peace blanketed me as the music grew louder. A figure appeared, highlighted by shadow, the only thing I could see beyond the flame that was my arms. It swayed, moving so it never solidified, a ghost of smoke and ash.

“ She won’t make it!” a female voice cried, known but not.

“Yes, she will. She has iron will. She will be strong enough,” a male voice spoke, and there was no room for question in the tone he used.

The shadow reached out as if trying to comfort me before vanishing. In its place the flames grew brighter, darker somehow.

Symbols began to spurt to life in sparks: a stream of fire, a sword, a baby, a female, a dragon.

Rapidly the images changed, forming new ones: song, breeze, rolling waves.

At last, all the small images collided, their sparks forming one undeniable image. A female stood before me. Eyes of flame and hair of fire. I knew her. She smiled at me while pulling out a dagger. She lifted it to her own wrist.

“No!” I screamed. She needed to stop.

But she only smiled sadly as she sliced the blade against her forearm. Liquid flame came pouring out as if gold was in her veins. It pooled, levitating in the air in front of her, before forming a ring with castle-like points. A crown.

The female smiled at me as her blood continued to flow freely from her arm, making the crown larger, more brilliant, until it was on fire and no longer gold. The light from it grew brighter and I could no longer see the female behind it. Instead, the crown hovered in the air and began to spin rapidly, the motion adding to the melody coursing through my very being.

It wouldn’t be long now. Death would claim me and these strange moments before would be nothing—a hallucination. I recognized the melody, something I hadn’t heard in a long time—since I was a baby. I began to hum it out loud.

The crown pulsed, once, twice, three times, and then erupted in a deafening roar. The entire room became blinding white. I could see nothing but light, I could hear nothing but the cry of justice—decided acceptance—in my ears.

The light faded; the female and the crown were gone. Now, the flames I saw only encased my body, moved with my arms; they were strawberry red. Looking beyond them, I could see the warehouse roof. It was metal, manmade, and would likely burn with me.

I hummed louder as I recalled the melody. I wasn’t sure if it was my mother humming it in my head or my heart’s memory of my father’s voice, but I recognized it as home.

I didn’t know the lyrics, but what did it matter? I was dying and death was granting me this gift—this piece of my past, my parents. I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the melody of the flame.

I began to sing the melody’s notes. It was nonsense and yet made more sense to my soul than any song, poem, or story ever had. I repeated the melody, my voice straining with the sheer pressure of it. I screeched and I didn’t care. It felt so right.

I repeated the melody, louder this time. The last syllable came out a roar. I would face this head-on, unafraid.

My body temperature felt cooled, the flames no longer boiling my blood. I must be melting now.

“Shut her up!” a strange voice called. It felt distant and disembodied.

“For the love of blood, SHUT HER UP!” Was that James? Who cared, he killed me, he could deal with my death song.

“Coat her, James! Arithi will want to see her.”

“Anything to stop the screeching.” And suddenly, I felt hyper-cooled. An icy blanket covered me, surrounded me, it didn’t quite touch me as much as it encased me. I reached out to touch it and felt resistance. I was in a bubble.

This was the weirdest death ever. Who would’ve thought you get transported to the afterlife in a bubble? The bubble got tighter, forcing my hand back. It continued shrinking until it was inches from my body. I took one last deep breath as it began to press against my body, the pressure quieting my flames. The strawberry-orange fire flickered, then faded into nothing. All light was gone as the bubble encased my face, pressing to my skin. I tried to inhale, but nothing. I couldn’t get any air. My lungs burned; pain filled me everywhere. I tried to breathe again, and this time darkness claimed me.