by Kim Harrison
Find me a thin spot in the balance of mass, I told them, opening myself. Newt’s smut was more certain than any protection circle. Find me a thin spot in time, I demanded again, and the sound of feathers filled my awareness.
Everything that had been or would be touched every other spot, existed in every time, lay dormant in every being. You just had to know where to look. And I had a thousand eyes today.
Mystics gleefully burrowed through time and space, the sound of their wings piling upon one another until a thin spot in the weft and weave began to fray. I focused on it, made it my all, funneled everything down to that point, that instant, weighing it more heavily than anything else—and with a sudden pop, a wind of thought blew through the spaces between me, sucking nothing into more nothing. I gasped as I felt it widen, expand . . .
And then it vanished and the mystics flooded back to me with images my brain couldn’t comprehend.
It hadn’t happened.
A boom of sound rocked me, and I pulled myself back to reality. Al and Trent stood before the writhing column of what had to be Newt and the Goddess. Power echoed between the walls, straining the glass and bowing out the wood. My skin tingled, and Bis’s grip pinched when a flash of light exploded and Newt tumbled out onto the hard floor.
“It won’t hold!” I shouted, and she turned to me, the Goddess occupied for a moment with Al and Trent. Neither of them needed a line to do their magic. The entire church was glowing with the cast-off power.
“Balance it,” Newt said, staggering upright and fixing her hat. “You need to balance it. If you get enough mass on the other side, it will stay open.”
“With what!” I shouted, but she’d flung herself at the Goddess with a joyous howl.
A sudden pop of high pitch burst the windows. Trent and Al were knocked down and I cowered, Bis’s wings shielding me. The very air was glowing, and I inched back until I hit the wall. Balance it with what? I thought, palms stinging as they found the broken floor. I could hardly think with all this smut.
The smut! I realized suddenly. Smut was intent to pay back an imbalance in reality created by magic. It was a counterweight to reality. It was . . . balance. Newt had given me balance.
“Bis, be ready,” I said, and his grip on me tightened.
“For what?”
“I don’t know!” I cried, focusing my attention entirely on one day, one beautiful thought that had held me. I was. I existed, and I would not be ended so easily!
And the weft and weave parted.
Go! I exclaimed to the mystics, and they went, flooding into the tiny hole I’d made in reality. Newt’s smut pushed me forward, and I gasped as I felt Bis’s thoughts snag mine. His wings beat and he held me firm in this reality as black imbalance pulled over and around me like a shirt over my head, leaving me disheveled and clean. For an instant I watched the new reality quaver, heart in my throat.
And then it began to collapse.
No! I screamed. It would not end like this. It would not!
Hold it open, Rachel! Al shouted in my thoughts, and then suddenly I wasn’t alone. The demons. The demons had come!
Streaks of half-heard emotion flowed past me into the new, still-fragile bubble of thought, etching ley lines with the footprints of their mind as they dove into the new reality, cementing into place new lines to keep it alive.
What? What have you done? the Goddess exclaimed, all our thoughts as one for this moment of time. And then Newt pounced, wrapping the Goddess and her mystics up in the smut that polluted the ever-after. Holding tight to it, she dove into the new reality sparkling in our joined thoughts.
I staggered as the balance shifted. Bis floundered, his emotion back-winging in fear as the pull became too great. Like a great rushing wind it rolled our minds to the abyss, drawing us in as well. Newt! I called, and then with the sudden parting of a leaf from a tree, the connection broke. I was alone.
My thoughts hit a wall, and reeling, I took a huge breath, trying to figure out what had happened. Real air sucked deep into me, and I coughed out stardust.
“Bis!” I called, but he was with me, his tail wrapped about me and his thoughts twining with mine. New ley lines glittered in our shared mind, singing in perfect balance. The new reality was safe. There were lines again!
The echo of my voice died . . . and nothing rose to replace it. It was silent, and the hush of dust settling whispered over me. My neck hurt, and I shivered in the dark as I looked up to the stars through the gaping hole in the church’s ceiling. There was a new hole in the floor, too. Newt and the Goddess were gone. The mystics, gone. The demons—gone.
Gone? “No,” I whispered, voice raspy as I looked for Al. I couldn’t see him, and I fumbled, falling when I tried to get up. Bis took to the air, landing in front of me with his glowing eyes down in sorrow. They’d thrown themselves into the new reality to balance it out with their smut. It wasn’t fair, damn it! I’d worked so hard. It wasn’t fair! I couldn’t leave them to that hell. Not again! Not now!
“Ivy? Ivy!” Nina cried out, the sound harsh. I was alone, and it hurt.
I collapsed, groaning as I hit the floor. A second crash sounded against my ears, painful and loud. “No, don’t,” I moaned as something hit me, and then I was pulled away, rocked as warm arms held me, soft words tried to pull me back, telling me to never leave, to stay with him always.
“Ivy, wake up! Please, don’t close your eyes. Look at me!” Nina begged, and I managed to open my eyes to see her bending over Ivy. She shook in fear, but her pain-induced savagery was gone, and the first feelings of success began to overshadow my guilt from failure. Al. Newt. What had it all been for?
“I’m okay,” I whispered, and Trent gasped, holding me so tight I couldn’t breathe. I patted his back, smiling as Ivy’s eyes opened. They flashed black, then spun back to her normal brown as she found Nina. The glow of their auras was clear, mixing but not, there but unseen. I could see it, but it faded even as I watched.
Ivy began to cry in joy, and she sat up and held Nina’s face with her hands as she tried to see past her tears. “Your soul is so beautiful,” she sobbed, and they kissed, clinging to each other as if they’d been apart for years and years. But maybe that’s the way it felt. I smiled. It was good. It was just.
But the demons were gone. Newt, Al. All of them. And it hurt.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Trent said, and I nodded, grief for the demons welling even as I was happy for Ivy. I’d wanted to do so much more. The demons. The familiars in the ever-after. There just hadn’t been time.
“Of course my itchy witch is okay,” Al said, and my head jerked up in the new glow of a handheld lantern to find him bending over us, expression wry. Bis was on his shoulder looking proud and exhausted. He’d broken the lines. The two worlds had collided. We had survived? Where is the Goddess? “Rachel is a pus bucket full of miracles,” the demon added, eyes rolling. “Thank you, Bis. I don’t know these new lines yet.”
“You’re here!” I exclaimed, then hunched into myself, coughing to get rid of the last stardust. Al’s light spell glittered with the clarity of a new sun, almost rivaling the demon’s good mood. He was here, his smut was gone, and his magic glowed with an amazing beauty. “I thought you were sucked into the new reality!”
“We were.” Al set his glowing lamp on the pool table and extended a thick, ruddy hand to haul me to my feet. I felt his strength meet my shaking hand and I rose from Trent’s arms as if being pulled from the water. “It was the only way to get everyone across,” he muttered, as if embarrassed.
“But . . .” I wavered on my feet, scuffing the bits of ceiling laying upon the floor.
Al grinned wickedly and yanked Trent up as well, the fast motion sending Bis to one of the remaining ceiling supports. “You saw us etch the lines to fasten it to reality, didn’t you? You think they only go one way? Stand up. Fix your hair. My God, you still haven’t learned how to dress yourself.”
“But you were trapped,” I mumbled
, listing to the right until Trent slipped an arm around my waist. He was grinning. I’d never seen him do that before. Ever. “All of you! Newt and the Goddess!” Fear slid through me and I looked at the hole in the ceiling. “She knows where I am.”
“Don’t worry about her.” Al’s eye twitched. “Newt . . .”
His words trailed off and his head bowed. “Gone?” I echoed, looking over the church as if I might see her, praying I would. “She became, didn’t she. Newt . . .” I couldn’t say it. There was no way that Newt could survive that. She was gone, both Newt and the Goddess destroyed as they became something new. Perhaps it was fitting. Perhaps . . . But I just felt as if I’d lost someone tied to me in more ways than I’d ever know.
Jenks hummed before us, hands on his hips. “Someone better tell me what happened or I’m going to stick my sword into all of you!”
“I think,” Trent said as he lifted me to sit on the edge of the pool table beside Al’s light, “that Rachel made a new ever-after and the demons etched new ley lines to keep it from collapsing.”
“And Newt became the new Goddess,” I whispered, tingles coming from where Trent still held me, refusing to let go. I couldn’t help but wonder how the demons and elves would handle that: The Goddess was a demon?
Trent frowned in consideration as he figured that one out, but Al was clearly pleased, making me think this might be the only way that the demons’ pride would allow them to begin to forget. “I’m going to have my hands full explaining this,” Trent said, and I could see him already planning his next speech.
“Perhaps.” I played with the tips of his ears, and he jumped, his startled eyes meeting mine as I smiled. “But they’re going to listen to you now. I’ll help. It will be easy.”
“Easy,” he muttered, reddening as he took my fingertips and kissed them.
“Must you do that where I can see?” Al harrumphed, but it was all show. “It’s a damn small reality, but far more stable than the one we sang into existence last time. Dali did a last sweep before the collapse, but we might have to let the familiars go.” He winked, putting a finger to his nose. “Just not enough room for them, the undead souls, and whatever gargoyles had been clinging to the memory of their past.”
“And you’re not trapped there,” I whispered, knowing it was true when he smiled.
“No. Never again, but we have a place to be—if we wish. Have you tasted the lines?” he asked, and I shook my head, eyes widening as I reached out a thought and found them, glittering and silver, like pure thought shining in the night. Newt became the elven Goddess? It couldn’t be, and I looked over the church as if expecting her to pop in and tell me everything was fine.
But she didn’t.
“I’m sorry, Newt,” I breathed, then wavered as my sight seemed to darken at the edges. My heart pounded, and I felt light-headed.
Ivy had stood, Nina beside her holding the grace only the undead possessed, but I saw a new gentleness to it, and I knew why tears still spilled from Ivy’s eyes and she refused to let go of Nina’s hand even as she gave me a grateful hug.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and I couldn’t speak as vampire incense spilled over me. Beaming, I gave her a squeeze, a tingling warmth rising through me when I pulled Nina in so I could hold them both at the same time. Nina remembered why she loved—she alone among the undead remembered. She was at peace, and the curse spawned by the hatred between the elves and the demons could be broken. Ivy was no longer afraid to live. I would’ve done this all for that alone, and my throat closed up as the two of them pulled away, new hope in their eyes.
It was over, and a heavy lassitude began to seep into me. “Can we go home?” I whispered, and Al harrumphed, probably remembering he didn’t have one anymore.
Trent scooped me up, holding me as he smiled. “You are done, Rachel Morgan. You hear me? No more.”
“Yeah, Rache. Let someone else save the world once in a while,” Jenks said as he darted into the air, chasing Bis out through the ceiling and to the graveyard. Limping, Ivy and Nina headed for the front door, and Al gallantly gestured for us to go before him.
Reaching up, I slid my fingers through Trent’s hair and pulled him to me for a very satisfying and well-deserved kiss. He was smiling when our lips parted, and I beamed up at him as Al grumbled for us to hurry up, happy with the world. “Right,” I said, eyeing Trent’s lips and wondering how long it would take to get back to his place. “What are the chances of that, Mr. Kalamack? We just renewed the source of magic. You don’t think someone’s going to want an interview?”
He laughed, making me feel loved, but my peace came from more than that. I’d gotten Al back, and he was proud of me, even if trusting the elves was going to be as hard as hating them. I’d freed all the demons so as to be sun and shadow both once again. I’d proved to Ivy that she was worth being loved, and that would spread through the vampires like a spring’s thaw, changing them forever. And though it meant nothing to anyone but me, I’d brought a new understanding between Trent and Ellasbeth, because children should have the chance to be loved by those who love them—always and no matter what.
Trent, though, was mine, and my head fell against him as he carried me through the ruins of the church to see if his helicopter had survived. No one would ever take that away, not the demons, the elves, or even the Goddess herself.
Because for all the changes, some things were immutable truths: friendship transcends all barriers, understanding trumps fear, and great power can always be surmounted by determination. And with Trent, Al, Ivy, and Jenks beside me, we had all three.
I always had.
Chapter 31
The sound of baying dogs over the happy chatter outside the pavilion tent held power over me even now, and I shivered at the thread of adrenaline. Feeling it through my hands, Red blew out, telling me to chill. Smiling, I gave her mane a tug, fiddling with the gold ribbons I’d been arranging. I was fine. I was more than fine. It was going to be a fabulous evening, one that I had planned and waited for—if I could just get these Turn-blasted ribbons to lay right.
“Easy, Red,” I soothed, and she flicked an ear at someone’s laugh, clear over the hissing lanterns hanging from the high supports. She didn’t like the people sitting in the rows of white chairs where she would usually crop grass and roll to rub out the itchiness of a long ride. She didn’t like the ribbons I’d plaited in her mane. She didn’t like that I’d blackened her hooves, and she really didn’t like my dress, swishing in the clean straw and trimmed in open lace. It was admittedly too white and too long to be suitable for riding, but that’s what I was going to wear, and she would behave.
“Just a few hours,” I coaxed, popping my cupped hand against her shoulder when she threatened to pull out the ribbons she could reach. The old horse snorted, ribbons forgotten at the unexpected sound, and I held her head to me and took solace in her horsy smell, still there despite the bath and brushing. A few hours ago the pavilion had been frantic with last-minute details and rushing about. It was just Red and me now, waiting until almost the end, and the soothing gray of sunset was nice. I really didn’t have much of a part to play, but I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.
Red’s ears flicked, her body young under a youth charm, but her mind old and tempered. If she was tensing, there was a reason, and I let go, turning to where the white cloth billowed, showing the wedding guests assembled amid fire pots and torches just now starting to give off light, but Red was looking the other way.
“Mom!” Ray whispered, and my eyes widened as she came in the back of the temporary pavilion. “Have you seen my spelling cap?”
I dropped Red’s head, aghast as I ran to close the billowing curtains before anyone could see Ray. “What are you doing here?” I exclaimed, almost whispering it. “You should be lost in the woods by now!” Elven weddings. I’d had no idea they were so complex. No wonder Ellasbeth had wanted a church wedding.
“I had it this afternoon.” Ray swooped about in her lacy
wedding dress, and I halted, blinking fast so I wouldn’t tear up. She had no idea how beautiful she was with her dark hair piled atop her head and her color high in worry. “I went to put it on, and it wasn’t there. I think Jumoke’s kids are hiding it.”
“Ray . . .”
“Jenks!” the young woman exclaimed, hands in fists as she looked at the ceiling as if the pixy was up there hiding, and Red snorted, stomping at her show of frustration.
“Ray, relax.”
“But I can’t find it, Mom!”
I won’t cry, damn it, I thought as I stilled her, bringing her to a halt as I tucked a stray curl under a jeweled pin. “I love it when you call me that.”
Ray stopped short, her flush deepening. “Well, you are,” she said, fidgeting. “Ellasbeth is nice and all, but you’re the one Dad loves.”
Meaning Trent, I thought, giving her a hug and feeling her strength and determination, happy that I might have had a part in that. “Your mother would be so proud of you,” I said as I dropped back, still holding her shoulders. “You have her stately beauty.”
Ray’s eyes dropped. “And my dad’s hands,” she said, meaning Quen this time. It made sense if you didn’t think about it too hard. “Mom, I can’t get married without my cap,” she said, her momentary calm gone as she began casting about for it again. “Where’s Jenks? I know it’s Jumoke’s kids. They were plotting to hide it as they did my hair.”
Of that, I had no doubt. The pixies had been in and out of the pavilion/stable all afternoon. Trent had banished them shortly before leaving with Quen, and smiling, I began taking out the pins holding my spelling cap on. “Jenks is doing a last security check in the woods. Here.” The last pin came out, and I shook my hair free. I wouldn’t be doing any magic today. “Wear mine. No one will know the difference.”