Arabel could hear Shelaine within her mind, calling for help, screaming, as something, or someone, tortured her with blasts of anguish and physical pain.
“Where is Francesca?” Arabel cried, trying to locate the girl telepathically.
There was no response. Arabel’s heart beat furiously within her ribcage and she held her athame out in front of her body to protect herself. The energy void wavered in defensive ripples but did not fall as the Dorojenja sent emissaries of darkness forward to pierce its magical boundaries.
The Dorojenja’s own energy void approached stealthily, rolling along and collecting darkness where it could find it, and the Dorojenja wheel of death clattered along behind the energy void, the bitter shield hungrily seeking souls to bind to its endless, merciless, undead possession.
The pressure in Arabel’s head grew steadily in proportion. She was unsure if it was part of the magic of the Discrepancy Spell, or if it was another form of attack upon her person. She could hear Shelaine screaming, screaming, screaming for help and tears ran unchecked down Arabel’s face. She had a sudden vision of Francesca, climbing the steps to the tower where Shelaine’s bedroom lay, and Arabel heard the whisper of Francesca’s voice within her own head.
“Split your soul and join me,” the tiny medium instructed her. “Come, fly!”
Francesca held out a dainty, pale hand to Arabel and Arabel clasped it and flew toward her, splitting a part of her energy from her body and traveling as she had done once before with Francesca. Arabel headed toward the tower where her dearest friend lay suffering within torture’s dark embrace.
Arabel saw from a great height the battle upon the grounds. As if in slow motion, she saw Saul’s forces repeatedly strike the energy void Zander had created and she watched Xavier and his men surround the Dorojenja. Zander’s energy void had grown to a massive size and the Dorojenja soldiers had ranged themselves around it, their cruel magic attempting to pierce it, as their own energy void recoiled from the light.
The Gypsies furtively gathered behind and around the ring of Dorojenja and Arabel realized with a sudden clarity that Xavier meant to trap them in a Locking Spell. She saw now that each of the Gypsies carried magical flasks with which to trap the tainted essences of the Dorojenja.
Arabel laughed as Saul’s dark grin turned into a grimace and she was cognizant of the moment he realized she had split off from herself and proceeded to the tower. It was as if she could link with him, she realized now; it was as if she could somehow see inside of his being, and his thoughts rang within her head.
“You will never escape me,” Saul promised her mockingly, and Arabel watched in mute horror as he did as she had done, and split himself in two so he could follow her to the tower.
Arabel ran. She ran as she had never run before in her life. Her breath came in great gasps and her heart pounded from the exertion. At some point, she realized that she had kicked off her shoes and she was now barefoot as she scrambled up the steep steps to the top of the tower to save Shelaine. The connection with Francesca remained as well and Arabel struggled to keep Saul out of her head and she did her best to sever the uneasy connection she felt between them.
“Hurry, Arabel,” Francesca implored.
Arabel raced up the remaining forty steps, heedless of the danger, her heart hammering in her veins. She must save Shelaine! Arabel knew she could not stand another loss and she quickly checked in to the other aspect of her body, the part where she remained within Zander’s energy void, and stood as the centerpiece of the Discrepancy Spell.
Arabel realized Zander had been correct to use the old magical spell. Although all aspirants were taught the Discrepancy Spell, its ancient roots meant that most were not drawn to it, preferring instead to practice more modern aspects of magic. But the old spells contained a rough, potent, primal magic, and Zander had chosen well.
The discrepancy, the variant, could and often did, drive the recipients mad as they thirsted for the antidote to the spell and Arabel felt the pull of their collective anxiety upon her person as the Dorojenja fought to release themselves. All upon the great lawns of Murphy Estates, Saul’s soldiers were crumpling and Xavier and the other Gypsies were quick to snap the weakened Dorojenja’s energies into the magical flasks, thereby locking them safely away where they could wreak no further harm.
The last of the stone steps loomed in front of Arabel and she jumped the last two, despite the tight fit of her ball gown. Shelaine’s bedroom door was closed and Arabel hoped it had not been locked from the inside. Francesca was nowhere to be seen and Arabel briefly wondered if she was already within the room. Arabel tried the door and it swung open easily at her touch.
Arabel gasped in dismay at the sight which greeted her.
Francesca stood with Shelaine, shielding her from the further onslaught of pain and terror. Francesca held her magical white stones out in front of her, an expression of intense concentration upon her face. A few feet away from her friends, Arabel saw Abelard Van Heusen, and she knew now that her first impressions of the young many had been correct. Abelard’s energy was shifting and sliding in malicious waves; he controlled the pain within the room and Arabel was furious that he was directing it toward Shelaine.
“How dare you!” Arabel cried, unable to stop herself. She thrust her athame into Abelard’s face, blocking his incantations and Francesca quickly immobilized him with a Locking Spell. Francesca dropped her arm and Arabel ran toward the two girls.
“Behind you!” Shelaine cried out and Arabel whipped around just in time to see Saul Porchetto materializing within the tower.
“Do not resist me, Arabel Spade,” Saul commanded with a dark laugh.
“I shall never capitulate to your will!” Arabel swore at the Dorojenja leader.
Saul laughed and then suddenly, only the two of them remained in the tower; Francesca, Shelaine and Abelard had all disappeared from view.
Arabel whirled around in confusion, wondering immediately what misleading magic Saul had conjured and she thought she caught a brief glimpse of Francesca’s bright crimson and white frock.
And then, it was just the two of them, alone; magnet and hunter, catalyst and nemesis.
“Why do you do this?” Arabel cried in frustrated horror. “What can you gain by this great evil?”
“We seek to disrupt the Grid,” Saul replied, somewhat conversationally, as he directed a darkly charming smile toward Arabel. “The Grid must fall!”
“But why?” Arabel asked incredulously. “What purpose lies within the madness of your quest? What has caused you to forsake and kill your own mother?” Arabel entreated Saul for some small semblance of sanity.
“That woman meant nothing to me!” Saul snarled belligerently. “She betrayed my father; she deserved to die!” Saul paused, collecting himself. “Once you have been tamed, you shall understand questions far more complex than you seek to answer now, fair Arabel,” Saul intoned softly, dark menace dripping from every hushed syllable.
“I shall never be tamed!” Arabel cried out angrily, brandishing her athame and mentally uttering the one Decimating Spell Xavier had taught her. To Arabel’s dismay, her efforts brought Saul a certain kind of enjoyment and he laughed as he knocked the athame from her hand telepathically. Arabel’s weapon clattered to the floor.
Arabel scrambled to retrieve her athame and she once again caught a glimpse of Francesca’s gown. In the split second it took for her to recover her athame, Arabel ran through a Revelatory Spell and with great relief, she saw Shelaine, Francesca, and Abelard re-materialize within the room. Abelard, Arabel could actually have done without seeing again, as he immediately joined forces with Saul across the room. Arabel glanced at Shelaine and saw the dumbfounded shock and grief upon her friends face.
Francesca whirled around and directed a blast of memory-wipe at Abelard, downing him, and bringing him to his knees in confusion. Francesca regressed Abelard’s mind to the first year of infancy and then promptly forgot about him as he tried to sp
eak, and found that he no longer knew how.
Arabel heard a massive squawking sound and saw the black feathers of the corvids hovering outside of the tower window. With a quick flourish, she opened the window and the birds streamed in to cover the tower with feathers and talons and irate energy. The birds swarmed Abelard and swept him out of the room and down the steep steps of the tower.
Francesca grasped hands with Arabel and Shelaine and the three girls turned toward Saul Porchetto’s manic eyes.
“I will never let you go!” Saul swore to Arabel.
“You will never possess me!” Arabel retorted vehemently as she and Francesca directed a blast of Locking Energy toward the Dorojenja leader. It did not incapacitate Saul completely but sunk him to his knees, knocking him momentarily off-balance, and as the three girls saw their first real chance to escape, they took it without hesitation.
The trio scampered wildly down the stairs, joined by their hands and Arabel searched for a place of safety to bring Shelaine to.
“Your face!” Shelaine wept to Arabel, as she gaped in horror at the angry slashes and welts marring Arabel’s normally flawless skin. Shelaine seemed to have blocked out all thoughts of Abelard’s duplicity and Arabel was relieved that her friend should have this small window of dull shock to hide within.
“I must return to the lawn,” Arabel said urgently and Francesca nodded.
“I will source out a safe haven for Shelaine and assist you astrally,” Francesca promised. “I am balancing the whole. Go, Arabel,” she directed. “We will be alright.”
Arabel nodded. She hugged both girls briefly and then ran back toward the battle on the front lawn. In her mind, Arabel heard her father’s voice, telling her that she had everything she needed within her to defeat this evil. Arabel wished she knew what she needed to do but her father’s message was as cryptic to her now as it had been when she had first heard him utter it.
At the side entrance, Arabel paused, sussing out her best strategy. She streamed herself back into the split aspect of herself on the lawn, feeling a strange rushing sensation as she did so. And then she was there, safely ensconced with Eli and Zander within the energy void, all aspects of herself reunited. Beads of cold sweat broke out on Arabel’s face despite the autumn chill. Desperate waves of darkness slammed against Zander’s energy void, bending it and morphing it, but the void held its own against the Dorojenja’s repeated assault.
Arabel saw Xavier riding forward toward Saul, clasping a large, black urn against his chest. Xavier lifted the lid of the urn upward and it opened to unleash a massive, hungry entity. Arabel watched in amazement as a vast sheet of electric blue energy rose up from the urn. It danced upward, relishing its freedom and it encroached upon the battle in a vast horizontal spread. The energy sought to overtake Saul’s soldiers and the bloody wheel of darkness they rolled along with them.
The blue entity pulled the energies of the soldiers up and away from their bodies, so that their bodies collapsed upon the frozen ground, their faces stark masks of disbelief and horror, and their essences moved of their own accord to be sucked up into the black urn Xavier carried. The Gypsies who carried the smaller magical flasks gathered up the remnants left behind and all were soon locked into the urns and the specially coated vessels.
Arabel spotted Saul as his split aspect of self returned from the tower, and she witnessed his hasty reintegration as he re-merged his soul into one evil source, re-forming his body as it currently existed astride his great war-horse.
Arabel saw the expression on Saul’s face; it was twisted and malevolent and full of angered disbelief. Arabel laughed, enjoying both his discomfort and the fact that Xavier and the other Gypsies were dismantling and capturing Saul’s forces, binding his soldiers as mercilessly to the urn as they would have bound the party guests to their wheel of death. The blue energy was forceful and relentless; it pulled and tore at the resisting soldiers and incapacitated them in whatever increments it could.
Birds were everywhere and their cries were deafening. The eagles called to the hawks and the owls hooted, and the corvids cawed and crowed. Arabel pictured light shooting out from her fingertips and she directed it toward the remnants of darkness that lingered upon the lawn.
Eli grabbed Arabel suddenly and pulled her body to his in a tight embrace. He laid his lips upon hers for a long, scorching kiss and Arabel felt her blood heat as the adrenalin of the battle and the danger of the evening caught up to her and blended intoxicatingly with her passion for him. She hugged Eli tightly to her and smiled as she heard Mireille within her head.
“The danger is past, my dears, you have done well!”
Arabel smiled in grim delight as the last of Saul’s soldiers fell to the ground, his body a useless vessel, his mind and essence captured within the blue entities force-field and locked into the urn by the will of Xavier. Arabel glanced to where Saul Porchetto had last been seen. She gasped in dismay.
He was gone. And so was Nick Chauncer.
“Where are they?” Arabel cried out. “Where are Saul and Nick?”
“Xavier’s captured Nick’s essence,” Zander put in immediately, linking with his brother.
“Saul’s horse is there,” Eli pointed to the large dappled war-horse, currently rider-less.
“He’s escaped!” Arabel cried in dismay.
The Dorojenja energy void had stilled as the soldiers had been slain. Now, as Arabel, Eli and Zander watched, it crumpled and imploded into frothy black gloop, coating the lawn in a gruesome muck of dank poison. The ground smoked as the void expelled its contents and there was no sign of Saul Porchetto anywhere.
Xavier rode up to the trio, his sky-blue eyes weary yet alert.
“Saul Porchetto is gone,” he spoke calmly and held up his hand for silence as Arabel would have cried out. “He will re-group and try again, but we will be ready for him.”
Francesca appeared with Shelaine and Shelaine ran straight into Arabel’s arms.
“I’m so sorry!” Shelaine sobbed, clutching Arabel tightly.
“Sorry?” Arabel repeated, dumbfounded.
“I trusted him!” Shelaine cried, tears streaming down her face.
“There was no way of knowing he had evil in his heart!” Arabel insisted.
Shelaine sniffled and did not reply. Francesca patted her arm in comfort.
“Secrets are easiest kept when we most desire to believe in their magic,” she offered quietly.
Zander began the process of dismantling the energy void once Xavier had given him the assent that it was safe to do so. There was a hush upon all assembled, as if no one dared break the silence which had fallen. The Gypsies all gathered now upon the front lawn and the sun began to slowly rise.
Arabel felt an anti-climactic, strange, let-down energy, almost a baleful respite, as they silently watched the day begin. She wondered to which far vistas Saul Porchetto would wander in his exile.
The sky was a blood red palette of streaming, living colour and Arabel was reminded once more of the comfort of the Land of the Red-Orange Sun and of Baltis’ painting. The image brought her comfort and Arabel tucked her hand into Eli’s contentedly, thankful as the somewhat disconcerting, disappointed energy faded out completely from her consciousness.
A new dawn was breaking and Arabel felt the promise contained within its birth. Golden rays now flooded the landscape and hope and love beat strongly within her valiant heart.
“Let’s go home,” Arabel said to Eli.
The rest of the world dropped away as Eli turned his expressive brown eyes to behold Arabel’s bold bright blues. Eli laid his generous lips softly upon Arabel’s, and for a moment, they could have been anywhere, so entranced by sensation were they, so enamoured by their deep and abiding love for each other that all time and space fell away, creating a secluded paradise of sublime sensation with only room for the two of them.
“Home?” Eli repeated softly, for Arabel’s ears alone, and Arabel comprehended immediately what the meaning behin
d the question he was really asking entailed.
“Yes,” Arabel answered decisively, kissing Eli gently but passionately. “Let’s go home. To my home. To our home, if you will honour me by sharing it.”
Eli favoured Arabel with one of his engaging, slow as honey grins and his almond eyes sparkled beguilingly with the tacit understanding of Arabel’s important offering.
“Your heart is my home,” Eli answered delightedly, kissing Arabel once more with a delectable fervour that had them both craving the heat of a deeper embrace. The pink and gold energies danced around and covered them in an amorous glaze of sensuous exploration.
Arabel melted gladly into the enticing haven of Eli’s strong arms. She poured her abundant, mesmerizing love for him into her answering kiss and she felt the scorching fire of desire as it shot passionately throughout her veins in unfettered, glorious abandon. Arabel’s blood heated and she felt Eli’s breath quicken in response. She leaned in to him, forehead to forehead, heart to beating heart.
Arabel recognized deeply that this moment shone brightly as an impermanent glimpse of perfection, and as she gazed into the eyes of her eternal beloved, Arabel knew suddenly that the world was as right as it was ever going to be and that her new life of freedom and beauty started right now, right here.
Arabel was ready.
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