by Sarah Kleck
“H-Heinrich,” he gasped.
“How long have you been with Morgana?”
The damnatus hesitated. Jared raised an eyebrow in warning.
“Since 1942.”
“Were you with her in Avalon?”
I looked at the damnatus, trying to remember if I had seen him there. I wasn’t sure; these monsters all looked the same to me. Especially when the transformation had advanced so far that nothing human remained.
Suddenly, the damnatus raised his gaze and looked at me. “Yes.”
“Did you help Morgana flee?”
“Yes.” A satisfied twitch in the scarred corner of his mouth betrayed his pride in having won this small victory over Jared and me.
Colin stepped forward and brutally struck him in the face.
Dark blood dripped from a wound above the right eye. But he was conscious. This damnatus was able to take more than I had expected. Colin’s blow would have surely knocked my lights out.
“How many of your kind has she created since you escaped?”
The damnatus was silent, tilted his head, and grinned.
Jared clenched his fist and let his curse pass, lightning fast, over the belly of the damnatus. The prisoner’s whole body shook, and his rotting teeth chattered.
“Sixteen,” he yelped. “Sixteen.”
“Is she still in the bunker?”
“How would I know? I’m here.” He raised his arm to rattle his chains.
“Let me rephrase the question. Is the bunker Morgana’s only retreat?”
“The bunker? You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”
Colin punched the damnatus again, knocking him backward.
“Yes,” the damnatus answered, spitting blood.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, it’s her only retreat.”
“What are her plans?”
“To reconquer Avalon.”
“How will she go about that?”
“With an army.”
“What do you know about the deaths of our two men?”
“Your men? Nothing.”
Jared gave him a penetrating look.
“Is he telling the truth?” Colin asked.
Jared frowned, then nodded.
The damnatus repeatedly looked at me. Something dark and unpredictable shone in his eyes.
Jared abruptly blocked his view. “If you look at her one more time, you’ll die,” he said in an ice-cold tone.
“I’m already dead,” the prisoner answered, and continued to stare at me. A rotten grin spread across his face. “You can’t stop her,” he said, and laughed—the crazed, desperate laugh of someone who knew the end was near. Colin punched him so hard that blood spurted all over.
Jared turned to me. “Is everything okay? You’re very pale.”
“It’s all right,” I answered bravely.
He came to me. Took a look at me. “Perhaps it’s better if you left. You don’t have to watch this.”
I swallowed with difficulty and nodded. Yes, perhaps it’d be best if I left. I felt nauseated. Ready to puke, to be honest. I had to get some air. I turned and left.
I heard Jared ask, “How did you die?” Then the heavy door shut with a clang.
It was already dark and a little chilly outside. I sat on the stone stairs at the headquarters’ entrance, let cool air flow through my lungs, and exhaled. I just sat there for a while, breathing, running my fingertips over the rough stones. This was the exact spot where I had my first chat with Gareth. Tears came to my eyes at the thought. I couldn’t stand sitting there any longer. So I took a few steps across the lawn before realizing I wasn’t alone.
“How are you?” a familiar voice asked.
I looked up. Ruth stood in front of me. The light of her appearance hadn’t entirely faded.
“Ruth! What are you doing here? If the others see you . . . Claire’s in there.”
“I wanted to see how you were.” As she came closer, I saw that her hands were trembling, and, looking at her more closely, I was certain she’d been crying.
“Could I have a hug?” Her voice quaked, sounded brittle.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, keeping my distance.
“Yes. I’m just a little shaken by the events of the last few days.” Again she took a step toward me. Suddenly she looked up. Her eyes widened. She stared past me. I turned to see Jared coming outside.
“Get away from her!” He stretched his arm out and shot an energy ball at Ruth. Then everything happened so fast I couldn’t react. Ruth pulled me to her and clamped both arms tightly around my body, and everything became bright.
“Sorry,” she whispered, and then I lost the ground under my feet. Light spun around us. When I thought we’d be lost in the whirl, my feet hit the ground again. I pushed her away.
“Where have you taken me?” I shouted, half blind. I blinked several times, then opened my eyes wide, trying to recover my vision and adjust to the darkness.
I recognized this place. We were on Primrose Hill. I frantically looked around. It became clear what Ruth had done. She had taken me to her. Not ten yards away from Ruth and me, Morgana stood under the cover of a tree. Several dozen scarfaces had set themselves up like a protective wall behind her. I couldn’t believe how many there were. The damnatus had lied to us. There weren’t just sixteen; there were at least a hundred. Morgana had been busy.
A satisfied smile spread across her immaculate face. Even though she wore torn jeans and a hoodie, Morgana looked exalted, almost regal. As if she wore the finest dress of silk and velvet. She held something in her hand. A strangely shining rope or chain—I couldn’t quite see from the distance. I looked along it. The other end was around the neck of a woman cowering on the ground. She whimpered, then looked up.
Morgana’s prisoner was about thirty years old and had auburn curls. She was crying, her beautiful face distorted by mortal fear. I suddenly understood. I had seen this woman before. In a photo in Ruth’s flat. No doubt about it: this was Hanna Hayman, Ruth’s daughter.
Ruth pushed me in the back. The shove was so unexpected, I almost lost my balance.
“Here she is!” Ruth cried in desperation. “I’ve done what you two asked! Now give me back my child!”
Done what you two asked? I looked up and noticed someone else. A figure stepped out from behind the tree. He wore a tux and a top hat, swung a cane, and whistled a children’s tune. He looked at me, doffed his hat, bowed, and said, “Good evening, love.”
Then he put his hat on over his straggly hair and grinned with his shark teeth, a long gash in his pale cheek.
I took a deep breath. That was him! Old Nick—the demon from the tunnel. I suppressed a scream.
He sauntered up to me. “I’m delighted to see you again so soon.”
I turned and ran.
“You’re going nowhere,” the demon calmly said. High flames shot up in front of me. I turned in the other direction, where more flames shot up. I was caught in a ring of fire.
“You were down in the tunnel, weren’t you? You killed Gareth and Adam.” Hatred seared inside me.
“Quite possible,” the demon said and approached.
I took a defensive posture and faced him. I held up my hands, hoping for warm waves of magic, but my hands remained cold. I pushed them forward, again called for my magic, attempted to conjure Nimue’s power—but nothing happened.
“Interesting,” Morgana mumbled as she approached. She pulled Hanna after her like a dog. “So you left Nimue’s magic in Avalon,” she concluded from my futile attempts to defend myself. She grinned at me scornfully. “That’ll be the first thing I’ll check on when I return to the island.”
The demon casually walked around me and observed me from all angles, like a customer inspecting goods. He stepped behind me and sniffed my hair. The hairs at the back of my neck bristled.
Ruth spoke again. “Well, let her go!” she demanded hysterically.
“Not so fast,” Morgana answered
casually. “That was only the first part of our agreement.”
“The first part?” Ruth asked, thunderstruck. “You didn’t say anything about a second part. Give me my child back now!”
“It must have slipped my mind.”
Ruth’s eyes widened, first uncomprehending, then determined. She dissolved into light, then reemerged next to her daughter. Ruth put her arms around Hanna and tried to make her disappear along with her, but only Ruth vanished. She materialized again nearby.
Morgana laughed. “Did you really think it would be that easy?” She yanked the chain again to further tighten it around Hanna’s neck.
“What do you want?” Ruth asked.
“Oh, I imagine you know the answer,” Morgana said and laughed again.
Ruth swallowed, stared Morgana in the eyes, then looked down.
“My magic.” That wasn’t a question—it was a statement.
“Bingo!”
Ruth hesitated. Morgana looked her over, alert and impatient. Then she put on her fake smile, aimed her hand at Hanna, and hurled a curse at her neck. The young woman cried out in pain. Ruth cried out, too.
“No!” she yelled, her voice almost breaking. “No!”
Morgana smiled, an expression of anticipated triumph. She knew she had won. Ruth would give Morgana anything to protect her daughter. That was certain.
“You know what that means,” I said, and looked Ruth in the eyes. “It will kill you. You will die just as your mother did.”
“But Hanna will live,” Ruth answered determinedly.
I gave her a tired smile. “Do you honestly think she’ll just let her go?”
I could tell from the expression on Ruth’s face that she hadn’t considered this. But I had her attention and needed to convince her. It was my only chance of getting out of here alive.
“She’ll throw your daughter to her damnati.” I nodded at the scarfaces, then paused to let it sink in. “Trust me, that’s worse than death.”
“Mother,” Hanna whimpered.
Old Nick grabbed me by the neck, pulled out a knife, and held the blade to my throat. “Careful,” he warned. “No one likes uppity girls.”
Now or never. “You have to get Jared here,” I shouted. “Now!”
“Shut up!” Morgana ordered. The blade at my neck twitched. I feared Old Nick would cut my throat if I said another word.
Ruth looked torn. She frantically looked back and forth between Hanna and me. Everything would be lost if I didn’t convince her now.
“Get Jared! At once!” I yelled. I fully expected the blade to dig into my throat, but nothing happened. I realized that whatever Old Nick had in store for me, he didn’t want to kill me. At least not yet.
“Jared will kill me,” Ruth objected, trembling.
“She will kill you! Don’t you get it? Jared’s your only hope!”
“Make her shut up!” Morgana snapped. “If the light guardian disappears, our agreement is void.”
“Better shut your trap,” Old Nick hissed in my ear as his grip on the back of my neck tightened. “I don’t want to have to kill you, my beauty.”
I pulled together all my courage. If Ruth didn’t disappear now, I’d die anyway—or spend the remainder of my days in the deepest darkness of the London Underground.
“Ruth! Go!” I yelled so loudly my neck hurt.
Nick yanked my head back. “Big mistake,” he said. “Very dumb.”
I saw light glow from the corner of my eye and knew that Ruth had listened to me. Relief flowed through me. He would come. Jared would come.
Then I felt the pain—a sharp burning pain like I’d never felt before. Warm blood flowed from the wound and ran down my neck. A scream raged inside me. I tried to swallow but couldn’t. Blood bubbled out of my mouth. The demon let me go, and I fell face-first into the dirt. Coughed, spat, tried to breathe.
“What a shame,” Old Nick complained. “Are you happy now?”
“Happy?” Morgana shrieked. “Do you know who will show up here any moment?”
I rolled on my side and grabbed my throat. Tried to stop the bleeding. In vain. It flowed in streams from my neck.
That’s it, I thought. After everything I’d gone through, survived, I’d die here in a pool of my own blood. Even if Ruth brought Jared immediately, it would be too late for me. He could only watch me bleed to death.
The scent of the meadow mixed with the sweet, metallic smell of my blood. I felt the cold, hard earth under my cheek.
It’ll be over in a moment.
Then I started to count. One, two, three, four . . . I continued. Five, six, seven . . . counted toward the advent of my own death.
Eight, nine. In a moment it’d be over; the pain would stop. I’d be dead. Ten . . . I waited for the inescapable . . . ten. I was stumped. I’d been sure I’d be dead once I’d counted to ten. But—I was still alive. I was alive! I tried to swallow—and could. Carefully I felt the cut. It was no longer bleeding. More yet: the wound was almost closed, had nearly healed. What on earth? I could think of only two possible explanations. First: Old Nick hadn’t injured me as badly as he had pretended. Second: I was still covered by the protection of the source, and the water I’d drunk caused my wound to heal so quickly that I’d ducked death once more.
Whatever had happened, this wasn’t the right moment to figure it out. It was time to act. The advantage was mine now. Everyone, or at least Morgana and the damnati, thought I was dead. I remained lying there, trying not to move, so I wouldn’t give myself away. I carefully looked through the dense curtain of my hair. Hanna was lying on the ground, crying. Morgana yanked the chain around her neck. Dawn was coming.
Old Nick grinned, pulled off his top hat, and bowed. Then he clicked the heels of his pointed boots and dissolved into smoke.
“Stay here, you coward!” Morgana shouted, but the demon was already gone. She looked around. Nervous, searching, panicking.
The light became dense, then gradually paled. Speed was of the essence. I had no time to see whether Ruth had found Jared or returned alone. My window of time was only those few seconds while Morgana was distracted. I pounced on her, tore Nimue’s amulet from her neck, then knocked the chain out of her hand. I pushed Hanna aside with all my strength; she tumbled over the meadow, briefly looked up, reached for her neck, and took off the chain.
I looked around to see if Jared had come. Ruth had found him. At the same moment, something grabbed my hair and pulled me to my feet. Ruth rushed to Hanna. I saw the light, and then they were gone. Thank God—they were safe.
A damnatus yanked my head around. “You’re tough, huh?” he said, almost respectfully. He laughed, but his face froze when he saw Jared. I used the element of surprise, rammed my elbow into his stomach, and tore away from him. Then Jared unleashed a force of nature. The hill trembled, lightning struck trees and the ground, the air crackled. Jared’s body shone from the inside out.
He had waited so long for this moment. Had hunted and pursued Morgana. Now she would feel the full force of his revenge. He bundled his power, then unleashed it.
Jared was mightier than I would have thought possible. His anger struck the damnati first. He swept them away like rag dolls. Then his pitiless gaze turned on Morgana.
“We meet again,” he said.
I ran to him and stood by his side. “Finish it,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
Two damnati came out from behind a tree and positioned themselves as protection before their mistress. Jared, with a small motion of his fingers, snipped them away. Morgana’s eyes widened. There was naked fear in them. Then she ran—rushed away, zigzagging like a rabbit. Jared thrust his hands forward, sending a curse after her. It struck only an inch away from her. First I thought he’d missed, but then I realized he was only toying with her.
“Turn around and fight!” he demanded.
She jumped and ran in another direction. She wasn’t able to hide anywhere in the open plain. Again, Jared’s spell only missed her by a hair’s bre
adth.
“Coward!” he called, at the same moment that Morgana turned and hurled her magic at him.
Jared lifted his hand and effortlessly deflected it. I had felt her power on my own body. Though I didn’t feel it now, I knew this was only a fraction of what Morgana used to be capable of.
“No, you won’t get away this time.”
Morgana was so far away, I could only guess at her shape in the dark, but I knew Jared felt exactly where she was.
“Duck,” he suddenly cried. I ducked and evaded a curse the witch had hurled in our direction. It collided with Jared’s magic. I was thrown back, stumbled, then looked up. Morgana was nowhere in sight.
“Stay put,” Jared said. He tilted his head back, spread his arms, closed his eyes, and let his magic flow through him. Time stood still. He would finish it now. There was no escape for Morgana. Jared would crush her. The plasma pulsed when it left his body and bundled into a buzzing sphere.
Suddenly, a woman screamed. Jared looked up, stopped the destroying curse. His incomprehension was evident.
“Not so fast, not so fast,” a deep voice calmly said. From nowhere, Old Nick appeared in a black fog before us. He was not alone. He had his arm around a delicate female figure. His knife was at her throat. She was dressed in a nightgown, her feet bare. She looked at me with shocked eyes.
Oh God, no! I tried to swallow my horror.
“Evelyn,” Sally’s voice trembled. “What’s happening?”
Morgana rushed to Old Nick and hid behind him, seeking protection.
“You see, dearest,” he said to her. “It’s always good to have an ace up your sleeve.” He laughed hoarsely.
Without thinking, I rushed forward.
“Easy, easy,” Nick warbled, pulling Sally’s head back. The blade of his knife flashed in the moonlight.
I stopped, Jared with me.
“Sally, are you all right?” I asked.
She sobbed. What a dumb question. Of course she wasn’t all right.
“Are you injured? Has he harmed you?”
“No,” she finally answered. Then quieter: “Please, help me.”
“Let her go,” Jared yelled, “or I swear I’ll burn you alive.”
Old Nick laughed alongside Morgana. She suddenly seemed brave.