Marked: A Two Halves Novella by Marta Szemik Page A

blur.
    Eric’s narrowed eyes darted between Mira and me. I assumed
he waited to see whether my sister would pass out again so he could stop me
from leaving. The spikes on his neck trembled as his eyes shifted to purple.
    The tug in my stomach eased. I looked to my sister. “What is
he doing?”
    “He’s bending.” Mira’s voice held pride. She sat upright.
    “Let me go. I need to help her.” My dissipating fingers
solidified.
    “I’m trying to shift your aura. It’s drawing underworld
creatures. You’ve been with Xela too long. She’s connected to you. Aseret can sense
you,” Eric told me, his jaw clenched with the effort.
    “So let him. It’s time I show him a shape-shifter’s
strength.”
    “Xander, it’s a trick. Xela’s not with Aseret; she’s on the
run. What you’re seeing isn’t true. He doesn’t have her yet. If you go now, we
don’t have a chance of helping her or binding Aseret.”
    “It’s too late.” I smiled, feeling the heat of the
underworld.
    Eric’s eyes glowed purple. He seemed strained, and then
released the built-up pressure from his throat. “Arghhh!” He screamed falling
to his knees.
    The mirror on the wall cracked, and ripples zigzagged
through the falling water. My eardrums throbbed at the high-pitched shout. I
shut my eyes. The pull on my body eased.
    “One more minute,” Eric grated. His jaw tightened.
    When he’d bent the evil back toward the underworld, the
spikes retreated into his neck and he slumped to the floor beside Mira.
    “Thank you. I guess,” I muttered, but couldn’t blame Eric.
He was right—him, and my sister, who was smart enough to know that forming a
plan and ambushing the underworld together made us much stronger.
    Eric exhaled, pulling himself off his knees, then Mira, and
onto a wooden chair. His flushed face paled as he steadied his breathing.
    “Are you all right?” Mira took his chin in her hand.
    “I’ll be fine, sugar. But Aseret’s powers are increasing.
It’ll only get more difficult to contain him.”
    I poured some water from a flask on a side table and handed
the cup to Eric, who nodded in appreciation. “And how are we supposed to bind
him to the underworld?”
    “The keepers will step in when the time is right. We just
have to make sure he stays in the underworld.” He gulped down the water.
    “So by containing Aseret, we’ll get marked?”
    “No. A decision between good and evil will mark you.”
    I barked a laugh. “That’s like telling a child he can’t play
with fire and handing him matches.”
    “You’re right. But imagine Aseret getting control of
vampires, then humans. Hell, we’ve already lost good warlocks to his demonic
army. He’ll change the world.”
    If this was supposed to make me care, I didn’t feel it. I
suspected it had to do with the hold Aseret already had on me, through Xela.
His power penetrated my bones, and I knew Eric was right. Aseret was planning
to take us to the underworld; he just showed me his strength by summoning me.
    Mira’s eyes met mine; her clenched fists mirrored my own.
She had felt the pull, too. If Aseret was going to take me, she was coming
along. He wanted us both.
    After waiting more than two hours, Eric regained his
strength and vortexed us to the hill. I spent my last night before the marking
alone on the cliff where I’d first heard Xela’s footsteps. My back resting on
the rock, I watched the black sky roll in overhead. Each star that twinkled
into being reminded me of Xela’s gem and its reflection.
    One night left in the unknown hole of oblivion. Tomorrow, it
would be decided who I was. Tomorrow, the water mark would imprint itself on my
wrist—or perhaps it would be the sphere? Would I choose a sphere if it meant I
could be with Xela, even if I would have to sacrifice the world and its
future—including my sister’s fate—for her? Would Xela be there when we bound
Aseret to the underworld, or would she escape his wrath?
    My gut told me she’d be