Witch's Bell Book One

she melted from a ferocious, unyielding blaze.
    'Power feeds power, child,' the man said, voice by her ear, even though he wasn't standing near her. 'And you are just the offering I need. Succumb, or be overcome.'
    Ebony gaped, mouth opening, unable to control her voice, unable to control her muscles.
    Unable to control anything.
    'That which is more powerful has more power, child, it is a tautology of universal importance. It maintains the Order,' the voice still echoed by her ear. 'That which is above, is higher than that which is below. You cannot fight the order. You cannot fight that which is above, you can only succumb.'
    Fight?
    Order?
    Power?
    Snippets of thoughts, cuttings of memories, slices of feelings. Ebony's reality, her life, all swirled before her, like a choppy sea under the work of a ferocious gale.
    Nothing to hold on to. Nothing to grab to stop from sinking under.
    Nothing, but the movement itself.
    When left with nothing clear, nothing solid, then you are left only with movement. And movement is all there is anyway.
    Ebony managed to close her eyes. She managed to close her mouth. She managed to close her mind.
    And all she found there was movement. So she latched onto it, and followed.
    'Don't fight it, you can't fight it,' the man warned.
    She wasn't fighting it, she was following it. She tracked through her mind, through every memory she had. She clutched at the thread that bound them all. The silver thread of soul.
    She wrapped herself around it, and pulled.
    ....
    Ebony Bell took a breath. Opened her eyes. Saw what was outside.
    The man took a hiss of breath. 'Don't fight it!' his voice pitched high.
    She pushed into her hands, pulled herself to her feet. She hung there for a moment, like a puppet loose on its strings.
    Then she moved. She pulled her hands in front of her, pulled at the magic in her mind.
    'Submit,' the man said, jaw locked.
    'No. No, I won't. You can't have my magic, you can't have my life, and you can't have my story.'
    The man's eyes widened, his yellowed skin growing pale.
    'You need me to give up, but I won't, 'she said. 'You need me to stop writing my own story, in order for you to rewrite it. You need me to give up my power, in order for you to take it. I refuse.'
    Then the man, his teeth grating, flared his nostrils. 'You will not succeed-'
    'I don't have to, I just have to not give up,' Ebony brought her hands in front of her, felt the magic pooling in her body.
    You don't have to get what you want; you just have to want it. And she didn't want to give up.
    Ebony clutched her fingers together, calling fire, calling water, calling earth, and calling air.
    She unfurled her hands at the man, pushing them outwards as if she were trying to shove the space between them.
    The floor moved beneath him, the air descended from above.
    He stumbled forward, face pressing with anger. He slashed at her with the dagger, bringing it around in a wide arc.
    Ebony stood her ground, and pushed again. She furled her fingers back into fists, then pushed them out again. The dressing table behind the man fell towards him, the chandelier fell from above.
    The man dodged both, slashing out at again.
    Ebony didn't move. She just pushed.
    The blade came up, close to her face, close to her eyes. She could make out her own blood still crusted on the metal.
    It didn't move her.
    She pushed one last time.
    The man fell back.
    Did the sky give way? Did the ground fall away from beneath him? Did fire consume him? Did he drown in an ocean appearing from nowhere?
    No, he simply fell back.
    Magic didn't have to be showy; it just had to be effective.
    Around Ebony, reality returned. There was Nate, with the dragon defeated by his feet. There was Cecilia, cowering by the door.
    And there was the man, with the blade still in his hand.
    Ebony walked forward, knelt down, and picked up the blade.
    She wiped the old blood against her skirt.
    What had remained of the spell was now spent.
    Ebony's story, for now, was safe.

Epilogue
    'Y ou just disappeared,' Nate said, smiling at her from over the top of his coffee. The steam played against his face.
    Ebony shifted in her chair, taking the chance to stare out Nate's kitchen windows at the mountains beyond. Clouds were receding on the horizon, allowing the sun to flow back into the valley.
    'One minute you were standing there, facing off against that man,' Nate continued, taking a sip of his coffee, 'the next you were just gone. It didn't take me long to deal