by Izzy Shows
He regarded me with an impressed and amazed look on his face, then he shook his head.
"I doubted you," he said, bowing his head. "I should not have, lady."
"Listen, I know I didn't say anything before, but we can really quit with all of this 'lady' business. I'm not a lady. Not even close."
"But you are the one who came to save us," he said, looking confused. "Of course you are to be regarded with the utmost respect."
"Where I come from, I'm not exactly a respectable person. I get by all right, but I'm nobody important."
"I assure you, my lady, you are quite important to us."
I grinned, ducking my head to hide it. It was nice to get a little bit of recognition for all my hard work, even though I was accustomed to doing a thankless job. You didn't stalk the streets of London, beating up all the supernatural bad guys, for the glory of it all. Few of the mundanes even knew it was happening.
We carried on, dragging as many stones as we could to blockade the fence around the gate, and then the gate itself. I figured someone could jump the fence—I fully intended to when it came time to defend the Shrine from the monsters—but the Dullahan was supposed to be coming on a chariot. It sounded like he was used to getting easy access to things, so maybe he wouldn't think to jump the fence.
All right, so maybe I was hoping for the impossible, but it didn't hurt to try to get my ducks in a row.
Blockading the fence around the Shrine, and then the fence around the village—because I was coming to realize it was a very old-looking village I was defending, not a modern town—took most of the day. The villagers were none too happy about that. I was sure they all had things they would rather be doing to protect their homes and families, but I wanted to block up as much of the entry as we could.
At least they'd humored me without putting up too much of a fight.
"All right, the rest of you go ahead and get inside your homes," I said, glad to see we still had a bit of sunlight left. "I want you to do what everyone else already did: board up your windows and then drag as much furniture as you can in front of your doors. Make it impossible for anyone to get in."
They shrugged but didn't argue with me, and went to do as I'd said.
I didn't wait for them to finish; there were a lot of houses full of people who had already done what I'd said, and I wanted to ward their doors. I picked a house at random and tried the door to make sure it was well and truly blocked. It was.
That settled, I placed a hand on the door and began to chant the spells to lay the intricate weave of wards that would keep supernatural entities out of the house.
But the weirdest thing happened. My spells seemed to slide off the door as if I were throwing water at it instead of spellwork. I frowned, taking a step back, and tried it again, but the same thing happened.
What the fuck?
I'd never had this happen before. I'd warded my own house—and the Order had said I'd done a damn fine job of it—and I'd also warded Finn's, Emily's, and Shawn's houses. Those I didn't do as heavily as my own, because I couldn't. The wards I'd put up required an actual magic user to take them down and put them back up whenever the resident went in and out, and my friends couldn't do that. So, I'd put together the best set of spells I could while still leaving it so they could deactivate and reactivate the wards with the use of a special charm I'd made for them.
What I'm saying is, I was no stranger to putting up wards, but I'd never had this happen before.
For the next thirty minutes, I threw everything I had at the problem, laying and relaying the wards, trying a variety of spells, some of which I'd completely disregarded as useless before, and still, nothing would stick to the door.
Despair washed through me.
How was I supposed to protect these people from the Slaugh if I couldn't get these wards up? This was the linchpin in my plan. Hopefully, the furniture blocking their doors would keep any physical bodies from getting inside, but the wards would stop a magical creature dead in its tracks. Without the wards, I was out of luck.
Then I felt something niggling at the back of my mind, like a memory I couldn't quite catch hold of. A nervous feeling filled me, and I started to turn away from it, certain that it wasn't anything good, but then instinct kicked in and told me I had to let it in.
With a deep breath, I did just that, reaching out to whatever it was, and as soon as I did, I found words in my head that I didn't know, and my mouth was opening to chant the wards.
As soon as they were spoken, they were out of my mind. I couldn't remember them, but the spellwork that had come from the chants stuck to the door. And not just that; they were finer wards than any I had ever created in my life.
I whistled, admiring my handiwork for a moment, then a wariness filled me. I didn't know where that had come from, or how, but…
But it had happened before. I remembered this happening at Tyburn Tree. Spells I had no way of knowing, that I couldn't remember and that had come out in a tongue I didn't know, had just come to me out of nowhere and then abandoned me as soon as they were spent.
I would have to look into it when I got home.
Seven
Time for the Shrine.
I looked at it over my shoulder as I finished with the last house. I'd allowed the foreign spells to work through me at each house instead of trying to get by with the spells that wouldn't fucking stick. That job was done, and the only building left to ward was the Shrine.
I'd left it for last for a reason: the place gave me the heebie-jeebies. But that wasn't fair; it was just a Shrine that happened to contain the soul of a really old and powerful priestess who could apparently pluck people out of random timelines. No reason to be afraid of that, right?
Well, nothing to be done about it. The Shrine had to be fortified the same as the other buildings had been. I crossed the village, hopped the fence, and stared at the door that led into the Shrine. Just for kicks, I tried my regular wards on it, as I had on the houses, but the same thing happened. They just washed off like they were nothing.
With a sigh, I allowed the foreign spells to come forward and work through me again, weaving an intricate web over the door to the Shrine.
"Perfect," I said. "Nothing left to do, then…"
I looked around at the empty village and shivered. It was weird being the only person out and about, and there was still a fair bit of daylight left. I didn't know what I was going to do with myself now that I'd gotten all of my tasks done.
Then intuition struck. I knew I had to go and talk to Moira one last time, although what about, I didn't have the faintest clue. Maybe she would have some advice on anything else I could do to fortify the Shrine against the Dullahan.
I touched a hand to the door and found that it went right through the wards I had woven. I frowned; that didn't seem good.
The wards give way to you, not to any other soul on this earth.
I looked around, eyes wide, but the words hadn't been spoken aloud, and I didn't know where they could have come from. Maybe from the Shrine itself? Maybe Moira had given me the spells I needed to get the job done.
But that didn't explain how the same thing had happened at Tyburn Tree.
I entered the Shrine and laid a hand on the burning orb again, and was immediately transported to the sacred grove where I had first met Moira.
She was standing there as if she'd been waiting for me.
"Hello again, young one," she said. Her words were kind, but she didn't look terribly happy to see me.
"Hey, I was just wondering if there was anything else I could do to fortify the Shrine. I've blockaded the gate and put wards over the entryway, so nothing should be able to get in, but I didn't want to leave any stone unturned, you know?"
She frowned at me. "I am quite sure there is nothing you are capable of. I am perfectly able to take care of myself, as I've said."
I felt my temper snapping, and I tried to rein it in, but that just wasn't possible.
"Listen,
you need to get the stick out of your arse and stop being so high and mighty and accept help when it's given. I'm doing what I can to help your people, and you not helping me help them is a little fucked up. Just answer me like a normal person."
She scowled at me, clearly unhappy with me, but at last she relented.
"Very well. If you were to give a piece of yourself to the Shrine, that would make it stronger. You are clearly a woman of strong will. It would likely do the Shrine good for a long time to come to have a piece of you contained within it."
I chewed at my lip. I didn't like the sound of that. Giving a piece of myself to anyone or anything, even a Shrine, sounded like a bad idea.
"Will I be here, like you? Or a part of me, anyway?"
She shook her head. "Many have given of themselves to the Shrine, but only those who make the ultimate sacrifice for the Shrine are kept within it. I gave all of myself to the Shrine; that is why I am here. No one else has done such a thing, and you cannot do so either. If you were to give all of yourself to the Shrine, you wouldn't be able to stand guard over it tonight."
"Yeah, no, I don't want to do that," I said, shuddering. "No offense to you and the decisions you made, but I don't want to spend eternity locked inside a Shrine."
"It is a difficult choice to make," she said, and left it at that.
"So, what exactly does giving of myself to the Shrine entail?"
"You would kneel before the idol and chant the spell to call it forth. When the Shrine asks for your offering, give it willingly. Then, you will likely have a vision of your past or your future. It is impossible to say for certain if you will have one, or whether it would be past or future; it all depends on how your soul is divided. I must caution you that in doing this, there is a risk. What, exactly, I cannot say. Only the Shrine can tell you when it is done. However, the risk would only come if the Shrine is destroyed. For some, the Shrine has warned that their offering would put their memories at risk. For others, their powers. And for a very few who made a great offering, it was their lives that were put at risk. If you fail to protect this Shrine, you must know that you risk not only all of those who have given unto the Shrine, but also what you give to it."
That made me anxious, to say the least, but I was also determined.
"I will not fail to protect the Shrine," I said, standing up a little straighter. "If it will make the Shrine stronger, I'll make the offering."
Eight
I snapped back into my body, standing in front of the Shrine, after Moira told me the spell I would need to chant in order to call the Shrine forth. I was still a little antsy about the whole thing, since giving up a piece of myself wasn't exactly something I was dying to do. It sounded all kinds of dangerous, especially when she mentioned all the risks inherent to it.
What risk would I be taking in giving to the Shrine?
There was no way for me to know without making the offering in the first place. Apparently, this was a 'buyer beware' situation where you didn't get to know what you were in for until it was too late to back out. I wished the Shrine could tell me beforehand so that I could decide for myself whether or not the risk was too great.
Can't do that, so you might as well get this over with.
Hrngh.
Maybe I didn't need to do it. I'd done an awful lot already, what with the strange and powerful wards I had somehow put up all over the village. Maybe that would be enough to keep things safe.
Yeah, and maybe it wouldn't be anywhere near enough, and I'd be dooming everyone in this town by not doing everything in my power to keep them safe. Hadn't I promised I would do that? Hadn't I told them I would do everything I could?
Well, this was included in 'everything.' This was something I could do, which meant if I didn't do it, I'd be breaking my promise.
I didn't go back on my word after I'd given it. That was one of the only things I'd been able to offer in my life as a poor homeless woman, and it meant a lot to me.
I really need to think before I speak in the future. I'm getting myself into all kinds of trouble, here.
Oh, well.
I knelt before the Shrine, touching my head to the floor, and began to chant the spell Moira had given me. As I chanted, I felt a power gathering within me separate from my own power source. It was as if something had taken up residence inside me and was charging, growing, waiting to spring out.
I didn't like the sensation of something foreign taking up a spot inside me, but I knew better than to try to get rid of it now. This was clearly a part of the spell, and if I interrupted it, I would have to start all over again, if I was lucky. Sometimes, if you abort a spell before it's finished, it backfires and does gods only know what to you.
So, I let the spell run its course, let it grow within me until it spiraled out of me and flew into the idol.
A presence filled my mind.
"Blair Sheach," it said in a commanding tone. "Do you come honestly to me, to give of yourself without coercion, with a pure soul?"
I hesitated. "Yes. I came willingly, and no one forced me to do this. It was my decision. As to the purity of my soul, I can't really say. I can only promise that I've tried to live the best I can, and I have only the safety of the Shrine and the people you protect at heart."
There was silence inside my head for the longest time, and I could feel myself being judged. It was as if the Shrine, if that was what had come inside me, was pouring through my mind, my heart, and my soul to find out everything it could about me and decide if I was worthy.
"You will do," it said at last, and my breath rushed out of me in a great burst.
I had been a little nervous, to tell the truth, that it would decide I was no good and try to get rid of me. I doubted it would have been content with letting me go my own way without making the offering; this Shrine had been created to defend the village from evil. If it decided that I wasn't worthy, what would stop it from deciding I was evil and needed to be eradicated?
"Provide of yourself, child."
Again, I hesitated, uncertain how to proceed, but all at once, I was suddenly endowed with the knowledge. I dove within myself to pull a piece of my soul away.
I tried to take as much as I could, not wanting to offend the Shrine, without taking too much at the same time. I didn't want to give too much of myself away because I feared what that might mean for me in the long run, and I also thought it was possible that giving a part of my soul away would probably mean being at least a little exhausted. And the more you gave away, the more exhausted you would be, right? That made sense to me, anyway, and I didn't want to be too worn out when it came time to stand and protect the Shrine.
I hoped it would understand that.
With the piece of myself gathered in my mind, I visualized it being pushed out of me and into the idol.
The idol glowed brightly for a moment, then slowly faded back to the regular burning it had been doing before I did anything to it.
For a moment, it seemed like that was it, that was all there was to it, and I was going to get off scot-free on this one. No vision, and hopefully few risks. I waited for the Shrine to tell me what I would risk now that I had made the offering, but there was only silence inside my head.
I frowned and continued to wait. Maybe it was judging the piece I had given it. Did it think that wasn't enough?
Abruptly, my thoughts were cut off. My vision swam, and I collapsed to the floor.
Nine
The world was fuzzy around me, and I felt a sense of familiarity in that. This wasn't the first time I had travelled through time, or through memories, or had been to a dreamscape. Raven had shown me snapshots of history when I first met them so I would know who they were and would trust them. Mal had pulled me into a dreamscape shortly after I met him, and then I'd pulled him into a dreamscape when I was in trouble with vampires, to get him to bring my equipment to me.
It had happened quite a few times, so it wasn't like this was new to me. I would just have to wait for the wo
rld to clarify around me, and then I'd find out where I was and what was going on.
But it took quite some time for the edges to come into focus, for everything to stop being a great big blur, and the more time it took, the antsier I got.
Where was I going to end up this time? What was I going to see?
This was clearly the vision Moira had told me I was going to have after I made the offering. I should have known I wouldn't get away without one.
She'd said it could be of my past or my future, and there was no way to know until it happened.
I didn't know which one I would prefer it to be. My past was already known to me, but it was rather painful, and I didn't like to rehash it if I could avoid it. But the future was dangerous. If you knew your future, you were basically trapped into following it. Normally, the future is a whole bunch of different bubbles and lines and options, but if you see one of them, you're stuck following it through. You don't get the option to go after any of the others.
I didn't want to get stuck like that.
Then the colorful blurs began to solidify and darken until I could see where I was. Or rather, what I was watching, because I could tell I wasn't wherever I was, not as myself. It was as if I were watching a film playing out in front of me, and unfortunately, it was a very familiar one.
Past it is, then, I thought grimly.
Front and center was my younger self, only about eight years old. My hair was cropped short, and I had bangs, but that wasn't what stood out the most. My younger self was covered in bruises, I was too thin to be considered healthy by anyone's standards, and my clothes were ratty, dirty, and old.
I was a poster child for abuse, neglect, and malnourishment. I could see the haunted look in my eyes and could practically feel the terror coursing through my younger self.
She was hiding in a broom closet, huddled in the corner behind some of the cleaning supplies, hoping desperately that today would be the day she went unnoticed.