“Where are they?”
Monica shrugged. “Who knows?”
I frowned.
“So the plan is to go back tomorrow,” Monica said. “We’ll all go together, and tell them that Elizabeth is going to offer herself up.”
“As the next you, basically,” Elizabeth said to me, frowning in distaste.
“Won’t that hurt you?”
Elizabeth shrugged.
“She should be strong enough to fight it off, whatever they do,” Monica said calmly.
“Can I…can I see my family? Before we go?”
Monica and Elizabeth exchanged a dark look.
“I don’t know,” Elizabeth said. “It might be too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous? Why?”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “Look, Andrea…I hate to say this,” she said quietly. “But I don’t know what your family would do if they saw you.”
“Why?” I frowned. “Because I’ve been gone for so long?”
“Not exactly.” Elizabeth cleared her throat. Monica looked like she was about to speak but Elizabeth held up her hand. “Let me do this one,” she said to Monica. “So…um, there were some side effects of your being taken and held for so long.”
“They think I’m dead,” I said flatly.
Elizabeth winced. “More than that,” she said. “Um, they’ve…sort of forgotten about you.”
Tears came rushing to my eyes and I blinked. “Forgot about me?”
“It’s not like that,” Elizabeth said quickly.
“It’s like you never existed,” Monica said. She looked at me. “You’d be a stranger to them.”
“And what if we win? What if I come back, and my family still doesn’t remember me?” A single tear rolled down my cheek. “What am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t think that will happen,” Elizabeth said. “If we can break the spells – all of them,” she added sternly, glancing at Monica. “Everything should be back to normal.”
“Can’t I at least see my house? Can’t I look through the windows?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “After we get back, you can go home.”
I sank into a chair, the pasta in front of me long forgotten.
“You should really eat something,” Elizabeth said encouragingly. “You need to keep your strength up.”
I felt like rolling my eyes. I felt like grabbing the bowl of pasta and throwing it into the wall. I felt like doing anything other than listening to Elizabeth and Monica for another second.
Still, I dipped my fork and spoon into the pasta bowl and scooped some out, twining it around my fork and taking a bite. It was getting cold, but it wasn’t bad, and I forced myself to eat the whole bowl.
“Come on,” Monica said. “We’re going outside.”
“What for?” I frowned. “You said we’re not leaving until tomorrow.”
“We’re not leaving yet,” Monica said. “Just come on, follow me.”
Confused, I followed Monica and Elizabeth outside, to the edge of the woods behind Monica’s house. Monica took a knife with a funny-looking blade and held it out, as if offering it to the woods.
“Mother earth, we pray for your guidance,” Monica said in a low voice. She dipped and got down to her knees, kneeling on the wet ground and bowing her head. After a moment, Elizabeth did the same.
I stood there, frowning. It felt sacrilegious – like I was betraying my own Christian beliefs. But something inside of me knew that this was bigger now than anything I’d ever experienced.
“Mother earth,” I whispered, getting to my knees and bowing my head to the ground. “Please protect me. Please allow us to return safely home.”
Monica reached out and joined hands with Elizabeth me and, just lightly enough for me to feel the pressure of her fingers against mine.
This is it, I thought as I closed my eyes and listened to Monica’s low, toneless voice. This is the end.
Chapter Nine
Elizabeth
I didn’t sleep that night. Despite Monica wanting to wait for us to get our strength, I was feeling weaker than ever by the time the morning rolled around. Andrea and Monica were awake and downstairs by the time I climbed out of bed. Monica was making breakfast for us – “provisions,” she called it – and I watched dully as she wrapped three sandwiches in wax paper and tucked them inside a bag.
“It could take a long time to find the coven,” Monica told Andrea. “You’re not used to looking for it, but it only comes to those with the power.”
“I don’t have the power,” Andrea said, frowning.
Monica shrugged. “You’re going to have to try,” she said, shaking her head. “Just do what I do, okay?”
Andrea nodded, but her frown was deeper than ever.
We dressed in jeans and thick boots and sweaters, in a feeble attempt to ward off the spring chill in the air. As we left, I turned around and looked at Monica’s house for what I thought might be the last time. Please let us come home, I thought, glancing at Monica and Andrea. Please, please let us survive this.
As we walked into the woods, we stayed silent. Monica led the way with her eyes closed, trying to sense the magic of Henrik, Ligeia, and the other witches. And what of them, I wondered. Would they fight us, too? Or would they be relieved to be free of Henrik and Ligeia’s spellcraft?
“Ouch,” Andrea whined. “My feet are killing me.”
Monica turned around and held her finger up to her mouth. “Be quiet,” she hissed. “I can’t concentrate if you keep talking.”
Andrea pouted, but she shut up.
We walked on in silence. The only thing I could hear was the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. It’s strangely peaceful here, I thought, frowning at the idea. It was funny – in all the years I’d been involved with the coven, I’d never thought of it as anything even close to peaceful.
But maybe that was just because everything else had always been so turbulent.
We walked on, and on, and on. Eventually, Monica stopped and took out the sandwiches, passing them around. I was starting to get nervous – what if Andrea had been right, what if we’d never be able to find what we were looking for?
“We’re close,” Monica said, closing her eyes and leaning against the trunk of a tree. “I can feel it, can’t you?”
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that I was the wind in the air, the tiny hairs on my exposed arms, the shining sun overhead. Sure enough, there was a familiar warmth in the air. The buds on the trees were larger and the sun seemed closer than it had been we’d left.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “We’re almost there.”
“I can’t do this,” Andrea said in a panicked voice, dropping the rest of her sandwich on the ground. “I can’t do it!”
Monica grabbed Andrea by the shoulders and shook her. “You have to,” she said, glaring fiercely. “You have to do this!”
Andrea shook her head and cried out loudly in fear. The sound of Monica’s hand smacking her across the face echoed through the trees. Andrea gasped and held her face in shock, staring at Monica with her eyes wide.
“Sorry,” Monica said quietly. “But you can’t leave, Andrea. Remember the flames.”
Andrea shuddered and shivered. After a few seconds, she nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Let’s go.”
Monica led the way. The woods were thinning and soon, we emerged at the familiar magical clearing. Ligeia was standing there, smiling coldly.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” she said, looking right at me. “For a moment, I did not think you would honor your promise.” She walked closer, inspecting Andrea closely. “Ah, the vessel,” she said. “You have brought her.”
I cleared my throat and stepped forward. “Ligeia, it’s going to be me. I’ll be the next protector of the soul of Prudence.”
Ligeia nodded approvingly. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, child,” she said. “Come, all three of you.”
My legs felt as heavy as
lead as I walked forward. Ligeia led us through the clearing, past her series of huts, and into a small wooded area. She took my hands and led me to a tree. I could feel the soul of Prudence – still asleep, but vigilant all the same. Her heartbeat resonated in my chest and I shuddered, wondering if I’d ever be able to escape her.
Henrik appeared from behind a tree and smiled. “Ah, you have returned,” he said. “And Monica, child, you have come as well. I thought you missed your own world?”
Monica smiled. “I missed the coven,” she said, lying through her teeth. “I’ve found the real world is no longer to my liking.”
“I see,” Henrik said. He smiled and I shuddered at the cold gleam in his eyes. “Well, child, perhaps that will change very soon, as you know.”
“What is he talking about,” Andrea asked.
Everyone ignored her.
“I’m ready,” I said nervously.
Ligeia stepped closer and stripped my sweater. I shivered even though the air was no longer cold. Ligeia took her athame from her robes and held it to my chest, pointing the tip at my heart. I shuddered as the tip of the knife pierced my skin. It hurt, but I tried not to cry out as blood dripped down my chest, soaking my bra and stomach.
“Prudence Arrowsmith,” Ligeia called. “You will inhabit this woman.”
I closed my eyes, pretending to lean into the ritual. But I wasn’t going to let that bitch inside of me. Instead, I willed the protection of the earth, of the sun, of the moon and the sky. Keep me safe and whole, I prayed silently. Keep me free of Prudence.
Ligeia smiled. “It is complete, child,” she said.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” I said, looking down. “I am honored you have chosen me.”
“Yes, child, you have done very well,” Ligeia said.
I could barely keep from grinning in relief. You stupid witch, I thought, biting the inside of my cheeks so I wouldn’t smile. It didn’t work!
I glanced at Monica. She nodded. This is it, I thought as I stepped back. May the earth be on our side.
“I’m sorry, Andrea,” Monica said. Andrea barely had time to react as Monica grabbed her and threw her to the ground. Ligeia turned and spun in horror, crying out as Monica grabbed the athame from her hands and sliced Andrea across the chest.
“You will inhabit this woman!” Monica screamed. A loud wind blew through the woods and the sky darkened as a rush of purple smoke disappeared inside Andrea’s chest. Her eyes glowed bright for a second, then faded.
“What is the meaning of this?” Ligeia shrieked. “Henrik! Henrik! Something’s happening!”
“Shut up,” Monica growled. She darted towards Ligeia, clutching the athame. Ligeia’s blue eyes began to glow and Monica flew backwards through the air, her small body smacking against a tree and collapsing to the ground. She didn’t lose her grip on the athame, even as Ligeia fell upon her.
I grabbed Andrea’s arm. “Fight,” I growled to her face before shoving her towards Ligeia and Monica. The two women tussled, rolling on the ground, biting and scratching and fighting like cats. Monica was shrieking at the top of her lungs, thrashing under Ligeia’s grasp.
Ligeia wrestled the knife away and made a plunge towards Monica’s body, but Monica rolled out of the way. I ran towards them and grabbed Ligeia, trying to pull her away from Monica. Ligeia growled and spat, cursing under her breath. A sharp pain filled my body from head to toe but I tried to push past it, willing myself to move past the agony.
Ligeia’s face was twisted with anger and rage as she wrestled out of my grip, spitting and yowling. I tried to push her backwards but she was too strong, and I cried out in pain as she shoved me hard into the ground.
“Traitor,” Ligeia hissed. She raised the athame high in the air and I gasped and screamed as she plunged it downwards, into my chest.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. I’m dying, I thought as I looked down, expecting to see a torrent of blood gushing from my chest. Instead, Ligeia had vanished. I rolled over and got to my feet, brushing my hands off and looking around in a wild panic.
Andrea had Ligeia pinned to a tree.
“Sister,” she hissed in a strange voice, almost like a whisper. “The time has come for me to destroy you.”
For the first time, I saw fear spread across Ligeia’s face.
“You have come to kill me,” Ligeia said, narrowing her steely blue eyes. “You have always wanted to kill me.”
“And you have always wanted what was beyond your reach,” Andrea growled. She raised her hands to Ligeia’s throat and began to choke her. Ligeia was spitting and cursing under her breath in a strange language. Her face turned purple and blue as Andrea squeezed her hands around her neck.
Henrik came barreling into the small clearing, shaking with rage and anger. “You!” Henrik screamed, running towards me. “What have you done, child?” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me close, leering into my face angrily. “What have you wrought?”
“Let me go!” I shrieked. “You’re hurting me!”
“I’m going to kill you,” Henrik growled. “You and all of these bitches! What were you thinking!”
Henrik pushed me back to the ground, kicking me hard in the ribs. I cried out as pain shot through my body. Henrik stood over me, looking down and glaring. Suddenly I felt a burning sensation all over my skin, like I was being lit on fire. The sensation changed from irritating to pure agony and soon I was screaming and clutching at myself, desperate for anything to make the pain stop.
Please, please, I prayed silently. Please don’t let me die. Please let Andrea win, let her kill them both for all I care!
The pain intensified yet again and I yowled, sobbing uncontrollably as the pain paralyzed my whole frame.
“Wench,” Henrik growled.
“No!” I shrieked. “No!”
Just as I was ready to give up, to surrender myself to the pain, it vanished. I lay there, dazed.
“Elizabeth!” Andrea was shrieking my name. “Elizabeth, get up!”
I was still breathing hard, choking and coughing on the pain. Still, I managed to roll over and haul myself into a sitting position, moaning as the air rushed back into my lungs.
Henrik was lying on the ground, Ligeia’s athame sticking out of his chest. Andrea was staring down at him. I could still sense Prudence inside of her, but Andrea looked calm and collected.
Monica was a few feet away, binding Ligeia with leather cords.
“Give me that,” she said, jerking her head towards the athame handle sticking from Henrik’s chest. “We have to work quickly.”
My legs were as weak as jelly as I stepped forward and grabbed the athame, pulling it out of the gaping wound. Henrik’s eyes were still open but I could feel the life leaving him. The air was filled with a sour, musty smell as I passed the knife to Monica.
Monica stared at Ligeia for a long time before stabbing her directly in the chest. She grunted, moving the knife down, until I heard the crack of ribs.
“Help me,” Monica grunted. “I can’t do this on my own.”
Gritting my teeth, I stepped behind Monica and wrapped my arms around hers, gripping the knife under her hands and pulling it down. For a moment, the wound was a glistening slit of pink organs. Then the sides collapsed, and guts spilled from Ligeia’s body, as rank and foul as that of a freshly-shot deer.
“We have to build a fire,” Monica said, looking over her shoulder at Henrik. “He’s not dead yet.”
I shuddered. “I’ll do it,” I said. “Just keep watch.”
Glancing down, I almost shrieked. My clothes were soaked and stained with blood – and the wound on my chest was still gushing. I touched it and winced in pain, wiping my hands on my jeans. It didn’t matter – my jeans were covered in blood, too.
With Andrea’s help, we gathered enough kindling and sticks for a fire. Monica tossed a lighter from her pocket and I caught it, gently blowing on the wood until a thick grey column of smoke was risi
ng to the heavens.
“Help me,” Monica grunted. She was kneeling over Henrik once again, sawing at his chest with the athame. The sight was enough to make me sick. Almost over, I thought as I forced myself to walk closer and kneel by the side of the nearly-dead man.
Using Ligeia’s athame, Monica and I cut Henrik’s heart from his body and tossed it on the fire. It smoldered and stunk of death, rot, and decay. But the flames were more powerful than the heart of an old warlock, and soon the heart was nothing but ashes.
“Andrea, watch the fire,” Monica said. Andrea was sitting there, frozen. She looked horrified.
“Andrea,” Monica snapped. “Listen!” She snapped her fingers in the air. “Watch the fire, okay?”
Andrea managed a nod of her head. I walked to Ligeia and grabbed her body. For such an old, frail woman, she was almost heavy and I winced as I carried her bleeding corpse to the flames. Setting her down on the ground, Monica and I cut out her heart and held it over the greedy flames.
“It’s over,” Monica said softly as she lowered the heart into the fire. “It’s finally over.”
Andrea wrapped her arms around her legs and began to shake. She seemed practically catatonic as Monica and I hauled the bodies of Henrik and Ligeia to the flames and burned them, filling the sky with an acrid smoke that stung my nose and mouth.
Monica held the athame in the flames until the tip was red-hot. She then laid it in the grass, wiping both sides clean of blood and grime.
“Andrea, come here,” Monica said. “We’re going to release the spirit of Prudence.”
Andrea got up and walked closer. She looked shell-shocked, horrified.
“I killed someone,” Andrea whispered.
“No,” Monica said sharply. “You didn’t kill anyone, you understand? It was Prudence,” she added. “Prudence is the only person strong enough to take Ligeia down. You did it,” she added. “I’m very proud of you.”
Andrea nodded, but she looked no less unhappy than she had before. At a gesture from Monica, she lay down on the grass and closed her eyes. Monica held the athame over her chest, pointed at her heart.
“I command the spirit of Prudence Arrowsmith to the afterlife,” Monica said solemnly, scratching the surface of Andrea’s skin with the blade of the knife. Andrea winced and screwed up her face, but didn’t try to push Monica away.
The Uprising (Moonlight Wolves Book 3) Page 58