Poppy smiled at her and floated out the window.
* * * * *
Poppy sailed out of the window and floated down to the ground. Lest people with prying eyes should see this, she had to do something. Mistress was waking soon. She did the only thing she could think of: she swooped down, placed her hands on Mistress' face and wished with all her might that they might be in the Otherworld. In Ashling. She knew that Mistress could not hurt anyone else there, could not hurt any more of her loved ones. She would fight her alone. Just as she felt her body fading and Mistress' with hers, Mistress opened her eyes. "What are you doing?"
"Taking you where you want to go," Poppy said. They faded quickly and soon there was nothing on the front lawn but a shower of broken glass. Lucia stood and looked out where her friend had just been.
"Goddess be with you, my friend," she said.
* * * * *
When Poppy next regained consciousness, she saw only blackness. Shaking her head, she felt her eyes flicker open. The world was different around her. She remembered then and the images came in quick succession. Her eyes were still red; she could felt the blood pulsing behind them. She remembered grabbing onto Mistress' face, feeling the woman scream under her hand as they faded into a world that was part of Poppy's blood, her blood called to it, pulled her to her other home, a body on two worlds. She saw the two of them falling through mist, felt it brush against her face, her body, felt her body and limbs fall away. Her body was racked in spasms of intense pain as a change came upon her without warning. She felt the feathers push themselves through her skin, felt them grow like flowers out of her pores, felt her shape changing, her face taking on the shape of a beak, black as night. She let out a sharp caw of pain and felt the bloody tears on her feathered face.
And then she saw no more; sleep had taken her, or she had blacked out for a moment. She would have to change more than once a week, she thought. She never wanted to feel that pain again. She still felt the after effects of it running through her skin, under her feathers. She shivered in the ecstasy of it, felt herself almost wishing for the pain again. She looked around and was pleased with what she saw. She was in her cave. She was in her cave! She recognized the cave walls from the week that she and Alicia had spent inside it. She could still feel Alicia's energy and felt it give her strength. She looked over at Mistress, asleep on the ground; her head had hit a rock, or something. There was a large gash on her forehead. It appeared that traveling through the veil didn't agree with her. She hopped further back into the cave, until she was shrouded in darkness. Her black feathers made her invisible. Poppy had a plan.
Poppy let out a loud, sharp caw. Mistress, shocked out of her sleep, bolted up and looked quickly around her. She could not see Poppy, hidden as she was in the back of the cave. Poppy was sure she could feel her though, could feel her energy. Mistress got up on her feet with a growl and Poppy could see the woman had indeed changed. Gone was the mask of calm that she had worn before. She was aging before Poppy's eyes. Poppy narrowed her eyes so she could see closer and she watched as wrinkles sprouted on Mistress' forehead and creased her face. She's dying. . . Poppy thought inside her head. There is too much power here for her.
Indeed, Mistress looked worse for wear. She was looking around wildly, trying to find Poppy. "WHERE ARE YOU?!" she bellowed. "WHY HAVE YOU BROUGHT ME HERE?!"
Do you not like this place? Poppy said inside Mistress' head.
She hit herself on both sides of her skull. "How are you doing that?" she whispered.
It's one of the things that Shifters can do, Poppy said.
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked again
Do you not like this place? Poppy asked again. After all, you wanted to be inside the House so badly, inside its belly; this is where we are. Why does it not agree with you? You have been sucking energy from it to keep yourself alive. Does it not taste good now?
"NO!" Mistress screamed. She fell to her knees. "The House can smell me now. I planned to destroy this place to get to you, to rip apart the Otherworld before it had a chance to recognize me. When you walked out of the Otherworld, it was as if you had landed in my lap." She was panting now and blood dripped from her mouth. She seemed to be melting like the Wicked Witch of the West.
But to be here now kills you? Poppy asked. How can that be if you have been living on it?
"WHERE ARE YOU?!" Mistress screamed. "WHY CAN'T I SEE YOU!?" Poppy narrowed her vision and saw that blood had begun to drop into Mistress' eyes, great tears of it.
Because the shadows hide me. Why does this place hurt you?
"Because it is not my Otherworld!" she screamed. "It is yours! I have been taking the House’s energy, not the energy of the Otherworld. To be in such a pure place is like a toxin to me!" she clutched at her face. Skin came away in her hands. "Please, as a Sister, I beg of you, Shifter I beg of you, take us away from here. . ."
Poppy chose that moment to strike. She flew out of the cave and clawed Mistress' face; she dug into her skull and ate the woman's eyes with her sharp beak, spearing each eye like an olive. They felt soft going down her throat.
Mistress screamed anew, her bellowing reaching new levels of pain. "I WILL KILL YOU, SHIFTER!" she screamed "I WILL KILL YOU AND MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN!!!" Even without her eyes, Mistress seemed to know where Poppy was, could sense her now that she was away from the cover of the cave. Her hand shot out and red electricity leapt out of Mistress' fingertips, slapping into Poppy and throwing her to the ground. She felt nothing but hot intense hurt, pain so bad she thought her brain would be crushed inside her head.
"HOW DOES IT FEEL!!!!?" Mistress screamed. "HOW DOES IT FEEL TO HAVE YOUR INSIDES BURNED LIKE ACID?! HOW DOES IT FEL?!" Poppy could see spit flying from Mistress' mouth and hitting the red energy like steam. "EVEN IF I DIE HERE, I WILL MAKE SURE THAT I TAKE YOU WITH ME! YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!"
Like this, Poppy thought. Am I to die like this? The thought that she might be dying enraged her, made the anger in her blood boil to a fire’s breath. NO! she cried, NO! I WILL NOT DIE LIKE THIS! She felt the electric blue energy run through her, come to life and crackle around her. She would fight until she could fight no longer. She flew up into the air and dropped down in front of Mistress, changing back to her Human Self in a split instant, not taking the time to register the pain it caused her. She flung her arms out in front of her and blue energy shot out of her fingertips, all the energy that Cecelia, Naomi, Lucia and Alicia had given her swirled around them. It was too much energy, too fast. She could feel the energy lifting her and Mistress into the air and Mistress latched onto her throat, her long red nails stabbing into her neck. She could feel her blood slipping out of her body, could feel the energy increase as her blood hit its waves. It responded to the magic in her blood and she let it, let her blood drain away.
Poppy latched onto Mistress just as tightly, squeezing her neck as hard as she could, shocking Mistress' body with wave after wave of energy. She felt it pour from her in waves, like water, lapping at her skin and swirling around her in a funnel of air and dirt and blue electricity. She heard a deep roar and looked above her. The last thing she saw, before she passed out and fell to the ground, was the shape of her father, riding a large purple dragon.
Epilogue
December 24th, 2004
"We're very excited about Friends of Yesterday around here, David. Everyone is talking about it. It's the biggest thing we've published in a long time!" Johanson said. They had published his first novel, Friends of Yesterday for the Christmas rush. It had done very well, selling out its first printing and half of a second. After the events surrounding Halloween, David had withdrawn from the world again. He felt lost without Orlando to comfort him, lost without the man he loved. He was despondent for a week, not coming out for meals or to talk to anyone. Finally, a call from his agent reminded him that he had a book tour starting in a matter of days.
Rather than put the tour off, David threw himself into it.
The constant travel and book signings and personal appearances kept David's mind off things. But it never lasted for long. At night, when he was alone in bed, he would swear sometimes that he could feel Orlando next to him. He still cried himself to sleep every night. To keep himself busy, he was hard at work on a second novel. "We're even more excited about your next book, David," Johanson said. His voice was jovial over the phone. "When do you think we could read more of Ghosts from our Past? I never knew you liked a good haunted house story."
"Oh, you know," David said. "It's just a passing fancy." He smiled.
"Well, either way, it sounds as if we have a new best seller. Tell your agent to send me what you have and we'll hammer out a new contract after the holidays."
"Sounds good, Mark," David said.
"Merry Christmas David! Say hello to Orlando for me."
"Merry Christmas, Mark." David said, and hung up the phone.
* * * * *
"Come on, little guy," Chip said. He was giving Andrew a bath in the House’s large kitchen sink. "Bath time is almost over." Andrew looked at him with yellow-green eyes and laughed. He had his mother’s red hair and it was almost shoulder length already. Cecelia had told him that demons tend to grow faster than other children, than human children. She was right. After he had found Roz and the baby, his world had seemed to crash to a stop. He knew that the birth had killed her, that it had started when they had all been busy with Karma's resurrection. He would never forgive himself for not being there in her last moments, for not being able to hold her hand. He had wanted to kill the baby at first for killing her; in fact he had almost strangled it. But he stopped himself the moment the baby opened his eyes.
Roz's body had been taken away and buried in the small cemetery at the back of the house. Orlando was buried beside him. Monica had made a quick recovery, thanks to Lucia's healing magic. Tholonious could not be revived and his wife had buried his body back in Ashling. It pained Chip to think of the ones they had lost in this fight: Karma, Orlando, and Tholonious. Roz. He had named the baby Andrew, as Roz had wanted. It only seemed fitting.
Chip tickled Andrew's chin and the baby boy laughed, spitting fire out of his mouth in a happy giggle. It seemed that demons were more than a little different from humans than he thought. He picked up his son and held him up to his eyes.
"What am I going to do with you?" he asked the boy.
Andrew smiled and hiccupped, a puff of smoke coming out of his mouth in a smoke ring. Chip laughed and hugged his son close, hoping that Roz could see them.
* * * * *
Honey watched her two children sleeping peacefully on the floor in front of her. She would be seeing David tomorrow; he and the rest of them would be coming over for Christmas Day. She looked at her watch. David was spending the night, though. He would come home from his book meeting soon. Eileen and Kieran slept on a blanket she had spread on the floor. They were sound asleep. Jose sat in front of the television, the sound off, It's a Wonderful Life playing on television. She said a prayer for her family, that it would be kept safe. Her eyes were drawn to the pentacle shaped birthmarks that marked both of her babies. They seemed to glow with a shine in the light cast by the Christmas tree. "Please keep my babies safe," she said. Though she knew that her prayers were in vain. Her children had been chosen. For what, she didn't know. She could only wait to find out.
* * * * *
Monica and Moe looked at each other and smiled. They had fallen asleep some time after noon in their new bedroom and Monica sighed with happiness to be able to wake up beside Moe. When he had run to her after Mistress had attacked, she thought she would be lost to him forever.
She had felt herself drifting away, unable to maintain a hold on the real world she loved so dearly. It was slipping away from her, like rain through her fingers. Then she had felt a curious sensation, as if her body were being filled with a mist.
Moe had joined with her, put his spirit in her body so that she could retain her form until Lucia could reattach her to this world. She had felt Moe inside her. "It's going to be alright," he had said. "I won't lose you now."
Their love had kept them alive. Though they were still unable to leave the house, they had each other and that was more than enough. "I thought I was going to lose you," Moe said. "I thought. . . ."
Monica put a finger on his mouth. "Perhaps it’s best you don't think for a bit. Just for now, let's forget about everything, okay?" She kissed him softly. "Merry Christmas," she said.
"Merry Christmas, Love," Moe replied.
* * * * *
"I am sorry that I didn't tell you," Lucy said. They were in the living room of the House. Poppy would never again refer to the house as the Coven House. The Coven House was dead to her, to them. It would never rise again. Grant had found help in the form of Daphne, a dragon that used to be in the employ of the Mistress. Mistress was under the impression that she had shot Daphne and killed her, but dragons were very resilient. One little bullet wasn't going to stop her, regardless of her shape.
She was the only living dragon left, hiding now, safe in the hills of Ashling. When Poppy had looked up and seen her father riding the dragon, she knew that hope was a real thing. "Daphne ate her," Grant had told her when she woke up the next day. "She said she was a little salty and tough, but otherwise good."
Poppy had laughed, even though it had hurt. "So that's it then?" She had said. "That's the end?"
"Oh, no," her father had said. "Far from it. The evil will be back. Mistress was just the beginning."
"I still can't believe that you didn't tell me," Poppy said. After the events near Halloween, she had found her mother and confronted her about what her father had told her. "How could you not tell me that he was still alive?"
"I didn't want to worry you!" Lucy said. They were in her small apartment above Rosie's Café. "You were already special enough; I didn't want to worry you."
"You left him because you found him revolting. Do you find me revolting too?"
"I never found Grant revolting!" her mother shouted at her. "I. . .God, I'm so in love with him! But it pained me to see him change like that, pained me every time. I didn't want you to go through that, to go through what he went though, knowing there was nothing I could do to help, nothing I could do to stop it." She wiped at her tears. "I couldn't stand to see him in so much pain. That's what scared me. That's why I left."
They both turned when they heard a sharp tap at the window. They both turned to see a snow white owl, perched on the window sill. It had grey-silver eyes. Lucy's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Grant," she said, opening the window. "Is it really you?"
"Merry Christmas, Mom," Poppy said, smiling. Alicia smiled at her from her seat in Lucy's old leather armchair. They both felt normal for the first time in forever. Alicia prayed that it would last. They both knew that it wouldn't. Whatever was coming, Alicia thought, they would be ready for it.
* * * * *
Lucia sat alone by the fire in the living room. David was over with his parents’ but she would be seeing him tomorrow. Monica and Moe were spending some time alone in their new bedroom on the second floor. Chip was upstairs with Andrew. She knew the four of them would be downstairs soon and that they would all have Christmas Dinner together. Cecelia and Naomi were out visiting Cecelia's mother, but they would leave soon, too. She could smell the turkey in the kitchen and feel the warmth of the place. Tomorrow they would all be sitting around Honey's table, rejoicing. Yule and Christmas are a time for happiness. She longed to be happy again.
She had left her house, left her abusive mother, when Naomi had suggested she move in to the House. She had agreed readily, but still visited her mother occasionally. She had been to visit her mother today. She shook her head to keep the tears from falling. She hated it when her mother got drunk and hit her. She could still feel the punch her mother had landed on her jaw when she had opened Lucia's Christmas gift of a new set of house slippers.
"That's all the thanks I get?" her mother
had spat at her. "Little good for nothing. . . ." she had fallen asleep by the fire in a drunken stupor. Lucia, shaken, had let herself out of the house and walked here. She didn't want to think about her past. She was enjoying the quiet of the evening, the warmth from the fire. She closed her eyes and tried to let the stress of the last few months slip away from her. Her eyes opened when she heard Lilly and Edgar entering the room.
"Lucia!" Lilly said, her voice worried.
"What is it?" Lucia said. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh," she said, as Edgar settled himself at her feet. "I certainly hope not."
"What is it?" Lucia asked again.
"Well, I was down in the Fallen City, in the library, looking at the Prophecies."
"Why were you doing that?"
"All this talk of them. . .it made me curious to reacquaint myself with a few of the older prophecies. I can't remember them all."
"But what's the problem?" Lucia asked. "You seem all jittery."
"It is probably nothing," she said. "It is only that. . . ."
"What?" Lucia asked.
"I was looking through the Prophecies and. . .I came across one that concerned you. . . ." she said.
"Me?" Lucia looked at her sharply. "Are you sure?"
"Quite sure, Lucia. I never make mistakes."
"What does it say?" Lucia asked. She could feel her mouth go dry, felt her tongue. It was like sandpaper.
"It said. . .well, perhaps it's just best if I show you. . . ."
"Yes, I think that's best," Lucia said. Lilly nodded and went to fetch the Prophecy. Lucia looked at Edgar. "Is what she says true?"
"Yes," the dog said. "I wish it wasn't. But it is."
Lucia closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. If all of her previous experience with prophecies were any indication, Lucia knew that she would need all the strength she could get.
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