Chapter 36: Smoke and Thorns
1171 Words
Kaia hadn’t moved in twenty minutes.
She lay curled on Granny’s rug, eyes half-lidded, mouth slack, fingers still clutched around the folded sigil in her pocket like it was the only thread tethering her to herself. Nyla sat close, murmuring to her in quiet rhythm, one hand hovering just above the girl’s sternum.
Granny moved through the house with quiet precision, no wasted motions. She wasn’t chanting. Not yet. Just watching. Waiting for the moment things turned.
Waiya leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, heart pounding too loud in her ears. Her eyes kept flicking to Kaia’s — searching for signs. A blink. A twitch. Something.
Nothing came.
“She’s still trapped,” Nyla said without turning. “But the longer she stays like this… the harder it’ll be to pull her all the way back.”
“She’s fighting, though,” Waiya said. “She held on to that sigil. She remembered it.”
Granny gave a single nod. “That thread ain’t cut yet. But it’s frayed.”
Justin stood behind them, jaw tight, posture rigid. He looked like he’d rather be punching through walls than waiting in the hallway.
“This was a setup,” he said. “He knew sending her would mess with you.”
“He didn’t send her,” Waiya shot back. “He twisted her. She came because she was trying to hold on. He’s the one who turned that into something else.”
“You should’ve brought me,” Justin muttered.
“I know,” she said, too quickly.
The silence between them grew sharp, edged like broken glass.
Lily stepped between them, voice low. “Now ain’t the time for this. She needs both of y’all focused.”
Justin ran a hand down his face and turned away.
Granny’s voice broke the quiet. “If you’re gonna anchor her, Waiya, now’s the time.”
Waiya knelt beside Kaia and reached for her hand. Her fingers were ice.
“I’m going in,” she said.
Waiya drew in a breath, grounding herself.
She let her hand hover just above Kaia’s heart, fingers stretched wide like she was feeling for a thread in the dark. Granny placed a small obsidian stone in Waiya’s other hand, cool and pulsing faintly. A grounding anchor.
“Close your eyes,” Nyla said, her voice softer now. “Don’t force it. Let her spirit pull you in. She knows you.”
Waiya exhaled, long and steady, and let the world fall away.
The shift was instant.
She was standing in a hallway of mirrors — tall, warped, endless. The floor was black glass, and each step echoed too loud, like it didn’t belong in this world.
Waiya turned slowly, catching glimpses of herself in each reflection — but none of them were right. One smiled when she didn’t. Another had bleeding eyes. One held her father’s knife.
She moved forward, ignoring them.
Somewhere, Kaia was trapped in here.
“Kaia?” she called, voice echoing like it didn’t want to come back to her. “You in here, baby?”
A mirror ahead cracked.
Waiya flinched, stepping back as jagged lines split down the glass. Then came the sound — whispering, skittering, a thousand voices pressed into a single breath:
“She’s mine.”
The mirrors pulsed.
Waiya pushed forward, hand grazing the nearest pane. It stung — like acid, like grief — but she didn’t pull back. She pressed her palm flat, heart steady.
“Not today,” she muttered.
The mirror shattered.
She fell through.
The new space was wrong.
The ground was soft — too soft — and breathing. Trees twisted into jagged hands above her, their branches twitching like they were reaching for something just out of sight. The sky flickered between night and day every few seconds, like a broken signal. And in the middle of it all, Kaia sat curled in a tight ball, her sigil clutched to her chest, whispering something over and over.
“Kaia,” Waiya said again, gentler this time. “It’s me.”
Kaia’s head snapped up.
Her eyes were hollow — no irises, just white and storming, like fog caught behind glass. Her lips moved, but her voice wasn’t hers:
“She abandoned you. She’ll abandon me.”
Waiya’s stomach twisted.
She stepped closer. “That ain’t your voice, baby. That’s his. Push it out.”
Kaia twitched. “I… I tried. I thought I could fight it. But he got in.”
“I know. But he don’t live here. You do.”
Kaia blinked. The fog in her eyes rippled.
Waiya knelt beside her, grabbing both of her hands. “You remember the circle we drew? The salt and the eggshell? The herbs you ground by hand?”
Kaia’s lip trembled. “Marigold. For protection…”
“Basil,” Waiya whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “To keep your name safe.”
Kaia’s eyes flickered. Her hands stopped trembling.
The forest around them hissed, like it knew it was being forced out.
Then came the growl — low, slithering, from deep in the trees.
“You can’t save her,” the voice snarled. “You couldn’t even save yourself.”
Waiya stood slowly.
The shadows writhed into shape — tall, shifting, that same thing that had haunted her, haunted Justin. But this time, its face twisted like Kaia’s. Mocking. Familiar.
“You ain’t welcome here,” Waiya said, voice steel.
It lunged.
But Waiya didn’t flinch.
She grabbed the obsidian stone from her pocket and held it to Kaia’s heart. “This is her spirit. Not yours. You don’t belong here.”
She pressed the stone forward.
The creature screamed — a sound that ripped through the dream space like claws on bone. The world around them cracked. Shimmered.
Kaia clutched Waiya, sobbing. “I didn’t mean to let him in.”
“You didn’t,” Waiya said. “He forced his way through the pain. That ain’t your fault.”
Everything shattered again.
Waiya’s eyes snapped open.
She was on the floor, Kaia clutched to her like a lifeline. The girl was breathing hard but steady now, her eyes clearer than they’d been in weeks.
“Waiya…” she whispered.
“I got you,” Waiya said, her voice hoarse. “You’re home.”
Behind them, Granny placed a hand on Waiya’s back. “You pulled her back from a deep pit.”
“I had help,” Waiya muttered. Her own hands were shaking.
Kaia leaned against her. “I saw him. He was wearing your face.”
Waiya swallowed hard. “That’s what he does. He finds the cracks.”
Nyla looked up from the salt circle. “But not today.”
Justin moved into the room quietly, eyes scanning both of them. He didn’t say a word — just reached for Waiya’s hand and squeezed once.
She squeezed back.
There were still questions.
Still nightmares.
Still darkness waiting.
But for now, one soul had been saved.
And that mattered.
- Writer
