Echo Soul Seekers

place my knife within reach should I find that I need it. Then I slip into the warm bubbling spring, sinking under the water until it covers my head and goes about healing my wounds and restoring my energy, allowing me to emerge as though I’m reborn.
    “We should bottle that.” I laugh, picking my way out of the water and over the bed of rocks lining the edge. My grin fading when I notice the way Wind begins to kick, ruffling Raven’s feathers as he fidgets, shifting from foot to foot as his eyes roll in their sockets.
    “ Shhh! He’s coming—he’s coming! ” Raven croaks, imitating an unfamiliar female voice I can only assume belonged to one of Cade’s unfortunate captives. Cringing at the number of times Raven must’ve listened to their cries of pain and fear in order to nail the fearful tone so perfectly.
    The sudden shaking of the earth accompanied by a spine-chilling shriek that echoes through the land, prompting me to duck into my filthy, torn clothes, grasp the athame, and follow Raven and Wind to the place where it originates. Cade’s personal epicenter just outside the spring.
    “What the hell have you done?” Cade shrieks, greeting me with a gaping, fanged, snake-mouthed glare, though thankfully he’s retained his normal size.
    I glance at his feet, noting how the immediate area surrounding him remains corrupted while the rest continues to heal.
    “If you wanted to see me, you could’ve called or sent a text,” I tell him, my voice strong and sure. “You didn’t have to create all this drama for me.”
    He lowers his clawed hands with a flourish, summoning the earth to still as the surrounding ring of fire smolders and dims, and I can only hope the Middleworld bears the same effect.
    “Your sense of reasoning is beyond me.” I sneer, allowing my gaze to drag over him as my lip curls with distaste. “You’re like one of those crazy looters you see on the news. You live in Enchantment, your family practically owns Enchantment, and yet you choose to destroy it by virtually firebombing it with that fiery rain that you made. Do you have any idea how crazy that makes you?”
    He swipes a hand at me, his long, razor-sharp talons veering uncomfortably close. “It’s the prophecy, Daire. I figured you’d know that. It just needed a little push to get started. Now answer my question. Where are my ancestors—my employees? What the hell have you done, Seeker?” His voice booms loudly as the snakes thrash all about. Making the transformation from his demon self to his more normal self, he whistles for his creepy coyote, who obediently trots up beside him and heels at his feet with a bloodied, mangled rabbit hanging halfway out of his snout.
    “That’s someone’s spirit animal !” I gasp, reaching toward Coyote, intent on wrenching it free.
    But Cade steps between us, face enraged as he shouts, “Answer my question, Seeker!” His voice pitched so high it prompts Coyote to lift his snout and howl, allowing the dead bunny to topple to the ground.
    I stare at the mess of a carcass, consoling myself that it was dead on arrival; there was nothing I could’ve done to save it. Returning my attention to Cade, I say, “Those weren’t workers; those were slaves . And in case you didn’t know, slavery is illegal, so I took matters into my own hands and freed them. Oh, and as for your ancestors—I killed them. Every last one.” I pause, tapping a finger against my chin, needing to emend that last bit. “Or perhaps killed isn’t quite the right word, considering they were already dead. Fact is, you’re on your own, Cade. Your undead playmates have gone bye-bye. Forever this time. Which means that at this very moment, all those souls you stole are returning to their rightful homes. And the people you enslaved are now back in the Middleworld, where they’ll not only be healed but also protected with the kind of magick you’ll never be able to penetrate. You’ll never be able to harm them or mess with their perception again. Which, in turn, means your business is dead. You’ve no slaves, no guards, no one willing to partake in your madness.”
    “You’ll pay for this.” He storms toward me, hands clenched by his sides.
    “Maybe,” I say. “But more likely not.” I take a careful step backward for his every advance.
    Not because he scares me—he doesn’t.
    Not because I’m intimidated—I’m not.
    But because I want to lure him into my territory. Noting how the grass beneath his