Angelica's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Angelica woke with the crystal shard warm against her chest. She knew the name now. She knew the door. But the caster still had her hair, coiled in a locket she had watched them wear for months. As long as they held that piece of her, the curse could pull tighter the moment she knocked. She needed the hair out of their hands before she stepped in front of them. That meant a thief's errand before a fighter's one. She went back into the swamp to think. The lake sat quiet under a low mist, cypress roots black in the green water. A single lily pad drifted near her boots, its petals glowing a bruised purple. She sat on a root and tried to picture the locket coming off a neck without a fight. She couldn't. Not alone. Not with this face. A voice broke the quiet. "You look like someone counting a bill you can't pay." Lilith Croco stepped out from behind a cypress, red heels sunk in the mud, tank top clean somehow. Angelica had sold her a pair of earrings once and never forgotten how gentle Lilith's claws had been on the counter. Most people crossed the path when they saw a crocodile. Angelica had not, and Lilith remembered. "I need something taken off a person," Angelica said. "A locket. Hair inside. Mine." Lilith's green eyes softened. "Say who." Angelica said the name. Lilith did not flinch. "I can get close to them," she said. "They like being admired. I can admire. You wait by the water. When I bring it out, you break the clasp and burn the hair." They went that afternoon. Angelica stayed at the tree line by the lake. Lilith walked up to the porch alone, laughing at something the caster said, touching their arm the way a friend does. Angelica watched the locket lift as Lilith leaned in for a hug. Watched Lilith's claw slide the chain up and off in one clean motion, hidden by her hair. Watched her step back, still smiling, still talking. Lilith walked to the water and handed the locket over without stopping. Angelica cracked it open on a rock. A dark curl of her old brown hair lay inside. She held it to the shard on her chest. The crystal flared. The hair caught and turned to ash on her palm. Something snapped tight across her ribs, then let go. Far off, on the porch, she heard a chair scrape and a door slam. The caster had felt it. Angelica wiped the ash on her dress. The locket was empty. The hair was gone. But she had spent her quiet approach to get it. Whoever waited behind that door was awake now, and looking for her.