“Puck!”
I barely register the banshee’s soft-spoken words before the circle flares up, activated. But before it can transport us away, I dart back outside its perimeter to fetch the hobgoblin. I dive as another of Carman’s tentacles whips overhead, my fingers closing around Puck’s shaking body. I spin back around for the banshee’s portal, straining not to lose my balance.
“You’re not going anywhere!” Carman snarls.
A shudder runs down my spine, body locking in place before I can cross back inside the blood ring. Sweat drips down my forehead. I can sense Carman’s satisfied smile as she adjusts her grip on my ogham.
A wall of green light erupts from the portal’s edges, and through it I can see the banshee reaching for me, but she’s already growing dim, as if turning into a ghost. So, with the last of my strength, I toss puck at her.
“Misstressss, noooo!” the banshee cries out.
“Take care of them,” I tell her, eyes falling one last time upon Arthur’s body.
Then a loud crack resounds, and all three of them disappear, leaving me alone with Carman.
◆◆◆
There should be no excitement when facing one’s death, no irrepressible desire to laugh giddily. Yet my body feels light as a feather as I slowly turn around to face Carman. Maybe it’s because I know this whole mess is finally coming to an end—one way or another, after today, I’ll be done.
So, with a confidence I don’t quite feel, I strut back to the Siege Perilous where Carman wants me, and let my fingers trail along the seat’s back, watching the intricate carvings come alive at my touch. The few angels left on the chair scurry to meet my fingers, chasing away the demons that have taken over most of the fateful chair. Here, too, Hell and Heaven are locked in an eternal fight.
“Good,” Carman says, and I can feel her excitement through my link to Excalibur. “Now sit on it.”
My body reacts to her order, muscles spasming as I try to resist and delay the fateful moment. I cut a long glance at Carman, ignoring the dark tendrils creeping again from her dress, and force myself to smile.
“Funny how you think yourself so superior,” I say, “when really you can’t do anything on your own. Couldn’t free yourself on your own, couldn’t give form to your ogham on your own, can’t open these Gates on your own…and apparently you know you can’t rule shit on your own either, or you wouldn’t be so desperate to free Balor, now, would you?”
I pause, tilting my head at her, arms shaking so violently now, the Siege Perilous is threatening to topple over.
“And you thought you could compare yourself to Danu?” I continue, barking out a laugh that sounds crazy, even to my own ears. “Not in a billion years. You’re not Fey enough to measure up to her. Not even with that dragon of yours.”
Carman’s nostrils flare, those black tentacles of hers frozen in shock. Her eyes slide over to the windows, and I follow her gaze. It’s not hard to guess where her dragon is, the night sky lit up with blazing trails as it chases after my friends, not realizing they’re leading it into a trap. And now she knows I know her secret. And if I know it, then everyone else does too.
The sound of a bell rings out, its note carrying clearly over the distant sounds of battle and the torrential rain. A green light flashes in the distance, the color of a sylph’s elemental power. The western ward is back up.
“That’s four,” I say. “One more, and your so-called reign is over.”
Carman starts for the windows, her hold on Excalibur momentarily slipping. I sense her reach out to her beast, calling it back. Not noticing that while she does so, I pluck at that strange cord of power that also links me to the beast, countering her signal. I smirk as her restlessness grows.
“Having issues?” I hear myself ask smugly.
Carman turns her dark gaze back to me, rage kindling in her eyes. “What have you done?”
I shrug. “You should’ve known better than to use my blood and the Sangraal to build your dragon,” I say. “I am now forever bonded to it, and the only way it can be undone is to destroy it completely.”
With a violent snarl, Carman slams Excalibur down, the blade sliding into the flagstones until it’s embedded all the way up to the fuller[115]. I wince as her power bears down on me, forcing me down to my knees.
“You are going to pay for this when I come back,” Carman says, seething.
And when she moves away again, her blood shadow stays behind to guard the sword.
I lift both hands to call on fire and force her back inside, but at my movement, the blood shadow grabs Excalibur. Dark tendrils of smoke jump from beneath its red fingers, and I drop to the floor, pain ripping through my chest.
And through the tears, I see Carman make for the arched windows, feather dress already billowing out to catch the winds.
“Stop…,” I cry out.
I can’t let her escape. If she manages to fly out to her dragon’s help, then our troops are doomed.
Gritting my teeth against the mind-shattering pain, I force myself to crawl across the cold flagstones. But the blood shadow twists its hold on Excalibur, and pain slices down my spine, sending me writhing to the floor.
I can’t breathe. Can’t think. My heart’s about to explode. I arch against the floor, eyes rolling back in my head.
I hear a bone-jarring roar, and I don’t know if it’s coming from my own lips or someone else’s. The stench of charred meat and scorching hair burns up my nose. Then something rings out in the distance. Blue light bursts across my vision. And all at once, everything stops. The agony. The screams. The battle…
Letting out a shaky breath, I look around the room. The blood shadow is gone, leaving my ogham half-buried in the floor, surrounded by dead demons. Someone’s crying somewhere to my left, yet laughter bubbles out of me. They did it! They’ve restored the school wards, and stopped Carman’s army in its tracks, fencing all the demons and draugar inside the school grounds.
I slowly push myself up, and my eyes fall upon a black figure whimpering against one of the window’s columns. For a second, I think it’s Thummim, but then I notice the sword gripped in the darkened hand. A sword with light gold and silver traceries on its grip—a knight’s sword.
Lance’s sword, I realize in a flash.
Except that it isn’t Lance who’s gripping it.
“Jennifer?” I say in shock.
The girl turns her head blindly at the mention of her name, and I repress the need to gag at the sight of the pus seeping out of what had once been crystal-clear blue eyes.
It’s her, all right, covered in open blisters and charred cuts.
Only Carman could have done that to her. And the witch wouldn’t have bothered if Jennifer hadn’t tried to stop her somehow.
And in doing so, Jennifer’s saved us all.
“You’re going to pay for this,” Carman hisses, whirling on us.
I laugh again, louder. “It’s too late,” I say. “You can’t harm us anymore.”
Which leaves only one thing left for me to do. I turn back to the Siege Perilous. Who was it that once told me Mordred and I were two sides of the same coin? Was it Carman? Mordred himself? Danu? It doesn’t matter.
A tremor courses through me as my feet return to the seat’s edge.
Trepidation, eagerness…and fear.
For to destroy the Siege Perilous, I know I must die too.
I close my eyes, trying to coax my breathing into a more regular pattern. I always knew it might come down to this. It was the one part of the plan I never mentioned to Arthur, though he must’ve known somehow. Thinking of him now brings back all my memories of our times together. Of the laughter in his eyes despite his too-serious face when he tried to teach me elemental manipulation. Of his constant willingness to give his all the help and protect everyone, including me. Especially me. Until his very last breath.
And now it’s my turn to do the same.
I fling my eyes open, grip the chair’s carved armrests.<
br />
“Your road ends here,” I tell Carman, and lower myself upon the Siege Perilous.
The carved demons spring to action, scurrying up the dark wood in excitement. Power surges from the chair, a sickening wave that fills me up like an oily tide, burning all in its passage. I hear Carman laugh, then everything around me disappears.
Chapter 41
The whole world has turned into a kaleidoscope of greys and blacks—everything’s barren and covered in ashes, a smoky haze hanging in the stifling air. The stench of sulfur is so thick I want to retch. I try to shift, and stifle a gasp as pain rips through my chest, as if the Siege Perilous is loathe to let me go. But that’s not what makes my hairs stand on end.
I can feel them moving inside me, sharp teeth eating away at my flesh as the wooden demons slowly carve their way into my body.
“Stop them,” I plead, shuddering.
Though I can no longer see her, I feel Carman’s presence beside me, feel her hot breath warm my cold cheek as she whispers, “Not so proud now, are we?” Her fingers brush my hair back. “The only way to stop this is for you to open that last Gate, and let Balor join me.”
“You’re mad,” I say.
“No, sweetie, just telling the truth. You saw what happens when you try to resist what must be done.”
I try to twist away from her, but I’m locked into place, trapped by the very thing I wanted to destroy. How did Mordred ever control the Siege Perilous?
Carman’s hand gently forces my head around. “Do you see it?” she asks.
I freeze.
A large red door the size of a tall house is now standing on its own in the middle of the vast, empty plain, the smoke rippling away from it, as if repelled by it. A shiver courses down my spine. It wasn’t there a moment ago, did I call it to me?
“Open it,” Carman whispers urgently.
All the darkness and emptiness that suffuses this sterile land suddenly finds an echo inside of me, filling my heart with hate and the desire to watch everything burn. I force another long breath through my nose, shocked at the intensity of my emotions.
“The door, Morgan.”
Carman’s voice is insistent. She’s worried. I wince as one of the tiny demons shifts somewhere around my kidney, moving steadily towards my spleen. I lick my parched lips, tasting blood. I can’t listen to her. I need to figure out how to close the doors instead of opening them, before these wooden atrocities turn me into human Swiss cheese.
“The sooner you open that door, the sooner you can go back to that boy of yours,” Carman croons in my ear.
She means Arthur, of course. A terrible longing to see him again washes over me, to see his slightly crooked smile crinkle the corners of his hazel eyes, dirty blond hair mussed the way it was the night we spent together. Would it be so terrible to stop fighting, close my eyes, and finally let go of everything?
“That’s right, go on.”
Carman’s voice sounds more distant. I shake my head firmly, as if to wake up from a tortuous dream, only to find the red door is now but a couple of feet away. I look over my shoulder in confusion, trying to recall when I moved.
“Hurry, Morgan, there’s no time left.”
No time left.
Carman’s words cycle through my head, over and over again, bringing with them visions of Arthur as he lay in a growing pool of blood, pale and so still he looked dead. All because he took a bullet for me, when all I ever did was cause problems. Rage flows through me at the inanity of this endless war that seems to take the best of us first.
My eyes revert to the red door, and my breath rushes out in sudden panic.
“No,” I choke out, staring at the long vertical crack along the frame.
I didn’t touch anything, so how could the door open on its own? Intense heat gushes from the narrow gap, plastering my uniform to my body as I try to peer into the darkness that lies on the other side. A terrible pressure settles upon me, and I find myself shaking uncontrollably, unable to move an inch. I am like a bird cornered by a cat, the power of flight forgotten. And I know the reason why.
Balor.
I swallow convulsively. The king of demons knows I’m here, and can already taste the freedom he must crave.
As if aware of my panicked thoughts, a red beam of light suddenly cuts through the obscurity, searing my vision, before winking out again. But it was all I needed to see what lies beyond the door, and nothing will ever erase that from my mind.
I collapse onto the ground, legs gone useless. That thing is worse than I could have imagined. It is misery and hunger, wrath and pain, mindless evil and horrid death—the four horsemen of the apocalypse rolled into one black hole ready to devour the entire world.
The ray returns as the monster opens its single eye again, red light instantly filling the void. Slowly, the giant’s hairy face turns, seeking the exit. I roll out of the way before the laser beam can cross the threshold, and watch in terror as it hits the earth, splitting the ashy ground with a deafening CRACK. I stare, shaking, at the yawning chasm of molten rock the light leaves behind as it progresses inexorably further away, burning through every layer of Hell.
The world fragments. Screams of horror in the distance. A part of me can see the KORT room teeming with the demons I helped escape, each one scrambling to get out of the red beam’s destructive path. My breath hitches. Fear prickles all my senses raw. At this rate, the whole world’s gonna burn within seconds.
Jaw clenched, I slowly crawl forward, pushing against Balor’s power that wants to grind me into the ground. I have to pause at the bottom rail’s edge to catch my breath. My head’s spinning from the poisonous gases spewing from the bottomless chasm left by Balor. I stare up blearily at the giant door, then slowly push myself to my feet.
Another tremor sweeps across the barren plain, and I have to brace myself against the door to keep from falling. There’s a sharp hiss as the red panel scorches my flesh, charring my skin until it splits and cracks open, fat bubbling from between my splayed fingers.
I fight back my instinct to pull away, and instead lean in to try to force the door back shut. Sweat drips down my face and arms, pooling in the small of my back. The earth shakes again, rattling my teeth, and I nearly lose my grip. Balor’s moving.
I push harder, grappling for a solid foothold, put my shoulder into it. Tears haze my view, but at last I feel the door shift the other way, ever so tentatively. I take a half-step forward, reducing the gap by a third. Just a couple more steps, and the seventh Gate will be closed once and for all.
Hands and shoulder slide on the burning door as my scorched flesh parts from my bones in long strips. I snarl. Take another step. Balor’s killing beam finally stops in its progress. So close!
Then a dark blur appears above me, and I forget to breathe. My heart’s hammering in my chest. I watch in terror as the scarred hand grips the edge of the red door to pry it open from the inside. Blinding pain shoots down my spine, tearing a scream from my parched lips. My knees buckle and I drop to the ground, letting my head hang low in defeat.
I can’t do this. Balor’s too powerful and I’m not strong enough.
“I’m sorry,” I say, hating myself for being so weak. “I’m so sorry…”
The door thumps against my side, gaping wider still.
Stop fighting, Morgana.
My heart stutters to a stop. Mother.
Remember who you are. Remember the good inside you; it is the source of your strength, and will lead to salvation if you so choose.
The whole earth shudders as Balor tries to force his way past the threshold. My eyes snap up to his knotted hand, burning away against the door like mine did. But the beast is so desperate to escape from its prison, it doesn’t care. And, somehow, a part of me finally understands.
Balor’s no more evil than Carman, or even me. He’s lost in his own rage, a cry of distress that’s long been ignored. This place is of his own doing, a representation of himself, of the darkness that has gnawed
at him for ages. I know it. I recognize it in myself.
But my friends, my brother, and even Danu, have taught me that I was never truly alone, that there is more to live for. That there is a place for me too, no matter how different I may be.
To my surprise, I find myself reaching up, small fingers coming to rest upon Balor’s burning hand to let him know he’s been seen. That he’s being heard.
And for a long second, everything stills. Balor’s stopped trying to pry the door open and must have closed his eye, for the beam of red light has winked out of existence. I feel a soft smile spread on my face, all fear gone. Then a violent tremor passes through Balor’s body, and he jerks his hand back.
“Wait!” I call out.
But the red door slams shut again, the wood quickly cooling under my hands.
“It’s OK,” I say quietly, sagging against it. “There’s no need to be afraid…”
Tears stream down my cheeks in the answering silence.
The seventh Gate is closed at last, so why does it feel like I’ve failed?
Do not cry, child. You did well, and I am proud of you. But it is time for you to return to us.
I pull away, and have to stifle a gasp. I’m back inside the KORT room, sitting on the Siege Perilous, a foot away from where Balor’s laser beam sliced through the building, the cut extending from the center of the floor to the windows. I expect it must have cleaved through the school grounds as well, though I can’t tell how far it went before it stopped.
“NO!” Carman screams as her shoulders hunch over, jet-black hair turning grey in lumpy strands around her now disfigured face.
The others must have finally defeated her dragon and gotten hold of her ogham.
Beneath my fingers, the Siege Perilous’s carved angels are pushing the few demons left down to the base of the chair. I lift my hands, noting the rosy new flesh that’s replaced the parts that were burned off by Balor’s door.
“No, no, no…,” Carman keeps repeating, wringing her spotted hands in despair.
She, like Balor, has tried to remake the world in her own image—one where everyone else would be as lost and angry and empty as she feels.
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