Where the Dark Stands Still

by A.B. Poranek

“Unless I took it into myself.” “That’s impossible,” Kazimiera cuts in. “The poison corrupts the soul and the body at once. No one can take from another’s soul.” “I have to try,” he says, voice fraying. “I have to.” His fingertips brush Liska’s cheek, and they feel like flames, like ice shards, like light at the end of an endless night. “Fox, stay awake. Open yourself to me, just as you did during the soul-searching spell, all right?” Kazimiera seizes his arm. “Eliasz, it cannot be done. Eliasz.” The Leszy shrugs her off, eyes locked on Liska’s. “All right?” Even nodding is painful. Her body feels leaden, a dead weight as the Leszy pulls her into his arms, ignoring Kazimiera’s protests. His hand cups her face. When his magic scatters across her skin, its erratic touch is almost soothing. Her body escapes from her, her consciousness fading rapidly. Memories flash by, but this time the Leszy weaves between them. His magic plunges deeper, searching for something, something. For that brief instant, a tiny eternity, their magics are one, their souls entangled.