Free The Last City by Nina D'Aleo Page A

– I swear I tried so hard.’ His dark eyes misted over and they clung to each other, rocking, trying to find some comfort in this nightmare.
    ‘Where am I?’ he finally whispered.
    ‘O’Tenery Asylum,’ she told him.
    ‘Asylum?’ His eyes widened.
    Sounds of nearing footsteps echoed in the corridor outside the forbidden door.
    ‘The witch!’ Ev’r gasped and turned towards the door.
    ‘No!’ Ismail grabbed her arm in his cold hands, terror stretched over his face. ‘Don’t go! Don’t leave me!’
    ‘I won’t. I’ll hide.’ Ev’r’s eyes darted around the room and she saw an ornate wardrobe in one corner. She ran to it and threw herself inside, closing the door behind her and peering through the keyhole, just as the Mocking Witch appeared in the doorway. The hag’s eyes roved suspiciously around the room.
    ‘Why was this open?’ she demanded of Ismail.
    He wisely stood unmoving and silent, staring back out the window as though nothing had happened.
    Ev’r’s chest heaved, her heart crashing, as she watched the witch close the door and move in on Ismail. The woman reached up to his shoulder and turned him to face her. He kept a neutral expression, though his dark eyes lifted for a second to the wardrobe where Ev’r hid. Ev’r held her hand over her mouth to stop its trembling. The witch stood gazing at Ismail and a lascivious smile spread over her vile face. Her eyes glowed with lust and she dragged his face towards her, her lips quivering with the anticipation of pleasure. Ismail closed his eyes. Ev’r stared, boiling with an emotion so mixed it was unnameable. Ismail was her childhood love. They had kissed under bridges, under tables, under beds and under everything two kids could hide under, until they and their love were too big to hide anymore. And here he was, drugged and helpless, abused and tortured – by the witch. Ev’r had confided in the witch about Ismail – described him. This evil woman knew exactly what she was doing, and exactly to whom she was doing it.
    Before the Mocking Witch could kiss Ismail, Ev’r kicked out the wardrobe door. It snapped off its hinges and flew halfway across the room. She stepped out as the witch spun towards her.
    ‘Zingara!’ The hag emitted a horrible shrill cry of shock. ‘Get out!’
    Ev’r stood her ground and stared the witch straight in the eyes.
    The witch curled her lips in a sneer. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
    Ev’r raised her hands and released a curse with so much fury and force that it blew out the entire wall and sent the witch plummeting to the desert far below. Ev’r jumped after her, riding the wind to where the witch had landed on her feet. The witch screamed excuses at her, screamed that she had saved Ev’r’s life.
    ‘You saved my body and killed my soul!’ Ev’r spat.
    They attacked each other with raw and snarling hatred. Ev’r remembered little of the battle that followed, just that she knew she would never stop until either she or the witch was dead, and as they fought the asylum sank slowly into the ground behind them, the force of their magics cracking the earth. Ev’r recalled only in snapshots of motion, grabbing the witch by the chain around her neck, where she kept a vial of cure-all. The witch had told her of the meetings between the dark sects, all the witches and sorcerers so untrustworthy and murderous that before every sip of drink anyone had taken, they had each poured their own elixir into their cup to save themselves from sure poisoning. Ev’r had twisted the witch’s chain tighter and tighter around her neck until she felt the woman’s strength ebbing under her grasp. Finally she had flung her lifeless body to the ground, the vial of liquid thudding against the witch’s chest. Broken from the spell of hate, she’d turned towards the sinking asylum to see people scrambling out to escape. Ismail was among them. They’d run to each other, into each other’s arms, together at last.
    A cruel blast