The Prophecy

by Lynne Ewing

  Catty stood, flexing her fingers, trying to work out the numbness, and stepped beside Chris, feeling awkward to be with him again after so long. He seemed so different from her memories and daydreams.

  "I'm sorry, Catty," he said when they reached the corner. "There's so much I should have told you."

  "You mean, like showing me that the real steps were hidden within the artwork bordering the Scroll?" She stopped beneath an overhanging wisteria bush, uneasy about going farther away from the portal and her friends.

  Chris nervously brushed his hand through the purple flowers, and blossoms fluttered over them. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he looked down, as if ashamed.

  "My duty was to lift the mystery surrounding the Scroll for you."

  "Why didn't you?" she asked.

  "I failed, because I loved you," he said simply.

  She stared at him, wondering why those words didn't excite her as they once would have.

  He seemed to understand and touched her cheek tenderly. "The path is dangerous. No one before you has ever survived the first step. They always make a fatal error, and the Atrox takes them. I refused to let you take that risk, and as a result I've only created more problems for you."

  "You couldn't help it if Followers captured you and brought you here," she answered, rubbing his arm to let him know she wasn't upset with him.

  "You don't understand. I had already lost the Scroll. I didn't want to lose you, too." He sighed heavily. "I came here freely."

  "Why?" Catty asked, unable to believe what he was telling her.

  "Centuries back I realized the Scroll was becoming too powerful. I was afraid that one day it might have the strength to control the heir, so I added the tenth step."

  "That's the only one I couldn't find," Catty said, realizing the Scroll had awakened and seemed to slither against the inside of her purse, intent on listening to their conversation.

  "That step is the most important one," he said simply. "But no heir has ever had the courage to follow it."

  "Can you tell me what it is?" she asked.

  "Later. I have something I need to tell you first; while I still have the courage." He paused, then continued. "I lied when I told you that we could be together some day."

  "But you said you had to find a way—"

  He pressed his hand gently against her lips to stop her. His fingers chilled her.

  "I knew even then it was impossible, because when I added the tenth step to the manuscript, the Scroll bound my life to its existence. That's why I came here. I asked your father to break the spell that binds me to the Scroll, so that you and I could be together."

  She inhaled sharply, shocked. "You asked my father to help you, knowing the risk?"

  "I wanted to be with you." He tried to take her hand, but she drew away from him.

  "Did he make you a Follower?" She felt almost sick. He started to say something more, but before he could, she sensed a mysterious force coming toward them. Shadows seemed to jump everywhere, spreading around her.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "I don't know," she said, but suddenly everything felt terribly wrong. She turned abruptly and sprinted back to her friends. Chris raced behind her.

  Catty grabbed Serena's hand. Her eyes flashed with fear.

  "What happened?" Serena asked, reading the terror on Catty's face. She quickly clasped Jimena's hand.

  Jimena looked up, stunned, and glanced around. "Is the gate opening?"

  "Something's coming," Catty answered, as she gripped Vanessa's hand.

  Vanessa stood up with a jerk, searching for the danger. She seized Tianna by the arm and pulled her up.

  A long, wailing cry filled the darkness, becoming louder.

  "What's that sound?" Tianna asked, her eyes wide with fear, and then she breathed in and pointed.

  Catty followed her gaze.

  A glistening black shadow streaked toward them with unbelievable speed. A humanlike shape formed in its center, and her father stepped forward, his satin cloak flapping behind him, his hair settling about his shoulders.

  "You deceived me, Catty," he said with quiet fury. "We had an agreement to exchange Chris for the Scroll. Now you'll have neither."

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  "I' L L D E ST R O Y T H EScroll before I give it to you," Catty said defiantly, releasing her hold on Vanessa and Serena.

  Their hands searched frantically, trying to grab on to her again, but she let them flounder in the mists, knowing with certainty that if she didn't stand against her father now there would be no chance for any of them to return to their homes.

  She opened the large, pink shoulder bag and took out the parchment. It twisted angrily, seeming to be alive.

  "If you destroy the Scroll," her father said. "You'll destroy the Keeper as well."

  She whipped around. "Is that true?"

  Chris nodded solemnly. "My life is bound to it."

  Her father smiled, seeming to enjoy her dilemma. Then he held out his hand, the white fingers long and smooth, inviting her to surrender the Scroll to him.

  Catty glanced at Chris, her heart aching. She had to destroy the Scroll no matter what the cost.

  She had no choice. The Scroll's curse was too dangerous. It had already killed one man and probably more, and she sensed its power growing.

  But there was something more. She feared the manuscript. Its purity, from when it had been created, centuries back, had become polluted. Its power could be used for good or for evil now.

  She looked at Chris again, studying his beautiful, sad face, and her resolve weakened.

  "Free me," he said, his eyes pleading.

  She shook her head "I don't think I can do that."

  "You must do it," Chris whispered.

  She bit her lip, wishing the goddess who had helped her once before would suddenly appear and guide her.

  "You haven't considered all your options, Catty," her father said in a soothing voice, stepping closer. "If you give me the Scroll, I'll have immeasurable power. That could be to your advantage. I could protect you and your friends. I'll even help you get safely back to your world."

  "I don't want your help." Catty tore the moon amulet from her neck and pinched it tightly in her fingers.

  "Is your talisman supposed to frighten me?" her father asked with contempt.

  "No," she answered boldly. "I need it to destroy the Scroll." She felt compelled to do it at that moment. But did she have the strength?

  "Really?" Her father seemed amused. His reaction wasn't the one she had anticipated. She had thought he would try to stop her, but he didn't move.

  She glanced up at the strange night sky, so cold and indifferent, as she searched for the moon.

  When a Regulator had told her before to destroy the Scroll, he had directed her to reflect the moon light from her amulet onto the manuscript. But where was the moon? Her stomach tightened, remembering.

  "That's right, Catty," her father said, sensing her thoughts. "Nefandus has no moon. There's really no way for you to destroy the Scroll here, and I'll never let you take it back to earth's realm." Her shoulders slumped. She had failed miserably. Her father started to take the Scroll from her. It slipped through her fingers.

  The last time she had felt that hopeless, a moon goddess disguised as an ordinary woman had come to help her. She sighed, disconsolate, feeling utterly abandoned, but then she remembered the waitress from the Summer Moon Tea Room.

  She yanked the Scroll back from her father and pulled the fortune from her pocket.

  She read it out loud, "The moonlight is reflected from the beauty within you."

  Hope surged through her, and she knew what she had to do. Her powers might not work here, but nothing could stop the strength of the moon; its luminescence glowed inside her and through her.

  She glanced up at her father. The force of his anger made her step backward.

  Quickly, she placed the Scroll on the ground and knelt next to it, holdi
ng it in place with her knees. The parchment vibrated ominously, fighting for survival. The delicate artwork took on a cold and corrupt feeling, as if the knowledge contained within it were sinister and evil.

  But then she thought of Chris again and looked at him through tear-blur red eyes.

  He smiled thinly, as if he understood her regret and sorrow. "Quickly," he whispered. "It has to be done."

  "I can't," she said, shaking her head, knowing she would also end his life.

  "Do it, Catty," he answered. "Please don't make me suffer more. I need peace."

  Catty nodded, then concentrated, hot tears running down her cheeks. She imagined the lustrous beauty of the moon and pictured its milky gleam.

  She felt, more than heard, her father's footsteps and knew he was rushing to stop her, but before he reached her, she waved her hand across the air. A blue moon glow emanated from her palm. She grasped her amulet and reflected the eerie light onto the manuscript. The parchment writhed and buckled, releasing toxic fumes as it began to smolder. Silver flames licked its borders. Her father shouted with rage, but his angry words were drowned by the unholy shriek from the Scroll.

  Catty felt suddenly dizzy and nauseated, not wanting to look, but unable to pull her gaze away. The intricate artwork began to untangle. The decorative tendrils and ivy squirmed into the air with malicious intent, attacking her. If she hadn't felt so violently terrified she would have admired its savage beauty.

  Then the parchment split open, releasing unfathomable power and magic.

  She stood and staggered back, suddenly understanding what she had done. Chris had warned her that the heir always made a fatal error, and now she had made hers. She could feel the life draining from her. The Scroll was stronger after all, and it had turned on her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  WH A T E V E R E N T I TY E X I ST E Din the brilliant light now focused its pure hate on Catty, ready to devour her. It thundered through her ferociously. Suddenly, she sensed that the darkness from her father and the Scroll were only unexplored strengths that she had to learn to integrate into her own. She no longer feared the dark. As the Scroll's energy continued to throb inside her, she sensed her father's fear and knew that he understood her new, terrifying role of annihilating evil. She symbolized the absolute force of the divine, her power uncompromising and direct. She was the destroyer.

  The light disappeared, leaving her breathless. She gasped, trying to find her natural rhythm of breathing, and looked down. The parchment burned now as if it had been an ordinary manuscript. Thin tendrils of bitter smoke twisted into the air from the ashes.

  Chris was fading, his image flickering in the breeze, a suggestion of the person he had been centuries back seeming to eclipse the person he had become.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  But he didn't seem angry: he stared at her as if seeing her for the first time, his eyes full of gratitude. "You're the embodiment of the Scroll now, Catty," he said reverentially. "My job is complete. No heir before you has had the courage to do what you did. The Prophecy has been fulfilled."

  His voice continued even though he was now only a sinuous shaft of golden light. "Only the true heir will have a heart brave enough to destroy the Scroll before setting out on its path. That's the tenth step. The others before you were too afraid to destroy the manuscript. They relied on its power rather than the power within themselves."

  Catty sensed her father slipping closer, and she turned to face him. "I have a power that works in Nefandus now," she warned, her strength rising in challenge.

  "Dea, certe," he whispered in awe. "Assuredly a goddess. My daughter, you have fulfilled a prophecy, but a dark one. I will see you again soon. Citius venit periculum cum contemnatur."

  He lifted his hand, and then a vortex of radiant blackness burst around him, and he disappeared.

  A rush of terror filled Catty, her father's threat growing inside her. "Danger comes quickly when it isn't feared," she said, translating his Latin.

  She sensed Chris reaching out to comfort her, but his touch was no more than air breezing across her face. He had vanished, and only a shimmering, golden glow remained.

  Without warning, a very real Kyle burst through the golden curtain of light.

  Catty blinked and shook her head. It had to be her imagination, she thought, but then she realized that Kyle had just stepped through the portal.

  He looked up at her, surprised. "Catty?"

  Immediately she understood that he had come back to Nefandus to find her.

  "The portal's open!" she shouted with joy as she ran back to her friends. She grabbed on to them, shoving them forward, and pushed them through the gate. She dove after them, taking Kyle with her.

  Moments later, she stood on a street in Chinatown, leaning against Kyle. A cold breeze blew blackened scraps of firecracker paper around them.

  Vanessa glanced at The Los Angeles Times, in a newspaper bin. "We've been gone nine days!" she shrieked, and started running to her car.

  "How are we going to explain this to our parents?" Serena asked, sprinting after her, Tianna and Jimena close behind.

  "Are you coming?" Vanessa cried over her shoulder to Catty.

  "No." Catty looked at Kyle. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  Kyle seemed flustered. "It can never work between us, Catty."

  "Those weren't exactly the words I had expected to hear you say," she said, slipping her arms around him.,

  "Nefandus is my home," he explained. "So if I try to kiss someone who isn't from that realm, I'll absorb her power. It's a curse the Atrox put on the servi, so that even if we escape we can never find love, because we'll slowly kill anyone we care for."

  Catty finally understood his hesitation. She brazenly drew him closer. "I'm not scared," she whispered, her lips brushing against his. "I've finally accepted my dark side, the part of me I inherited from my father, so I guess I'm half like you now, maybe more."

  He smiled, then kissed her lightly, testing her theory. When nothing happened, he kissed her again, his lips soft and sweet on hers.

  Happiness rushed through her, but it was mixed with a sense of foreboding. Now she knew her destiny was, one day, to face the Atrox alone.

  Coming soon: the bad-boy companion series to

  "OB I E , " A D E E P V O I C Ecalled.

  Startled, Obie turned.

  Two guys in faded black concert T-shirts crouched nearby beneath a dry, dusty oleander bush.

  "The Barbie-girl is looking for you." The skinny one pointed, and his studded leather cuff slipped down his bone-thin arm.

  Obie frowned and turned.

  Kirsten Ashton stood near the row of discarded desks. She smiled and fanned her hand in a silly wave. Her shining curls and glossy, pink lips clashed with the stark black eyeliner, straight hair, and major attitudes of the girls hanging out in Smoker's Alley.

  She clutched her notebook against her chest and moved softly through the weeds, waving hi to everyone she passed, oblivious to their cold, silent stares. She had the regal confidence of all popular kids and assumed she'd be accepted anywhere. She stopped in front of Obie. "I called your name three times. Didn't you hear me?" she asked sweetly, and cocked her head.

  "No." Obie wondered what she wanted with him. She sat behind him in history class and usually acted as if he weren’t even there. Not that he cared.

  "I love your new song," she said with a flirty smile. "I heard "Time Trap" on the radio this morning. It's going to be a big hit."

  "Thanks," he replied, only half listening to her. The feeling of alarm that had enveloped him earlier was fading, but he was still on edge, distracted by even the slightest movement around him.

  "Your music makes me feel so much longing." She brushed a hand through her platinum blond hair. Her silver nail polish matched the lines painted around her eyes. "Where do you get your inspiration?"

  He shrugged, and, before Kirsten could say more, the warning bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch break. Kids
stamped out their cigarettes and started back to class. Kirsten joined them.

  But Obie didn't want to push into the crush of kids sneaking back onto campus before the final bell. He charged off in the other direction and lunged between two overgrown Arizona cypresses. The scratchy branches snapped and cracked as he emerged from the other side and then sprinted across the basketball courts toward the front of the school.

  Obie turned onto a breezeway and dodged around the kids hurrying to class. His boots pounded the concrete with a thumping noise louder than that of the rowdy yells and laughter.

  He took the next corner too quickly and slammed into Allison Taylor. She had been standing with her friends, and now they broke apart, startled by his sudden appearance.

  "Sorry." He caught Allison around the waist before she fell. Her dark hair swept over his chest, and her flowery perfume spun around him. He breathed in her fragrance like a thief and let his hands linger on her soft, warm skin. She reminded him of someone he had known before. "I didn't mean to knock you over," he said, apologizing.

  Allison stepped back and looked down. "It's only a foot. I'll get a new one."

  Her friends laughed.

  She wore leather sandals, silver toe rings, and beaded strings of hemp around her thin ankles. A bruise was causing a swelling on the top of her foot. He felt like whisking her into his arms and carrying her to one of the picnic benches in the quad to make sure she was okay, but he controlled the impulse; such things weren't done here.

  Allison turned back to her friends as if Obie weren't even standing there.

  "I just got a chill," Allison said and rubbed the gooseflesh on her tanned arms. "Someone must have walked over my grave."

  "That didn't give you the chill," Obie said, intruding again.

  Allison's friends stared at him. Arielle adjusted her halter, as if Obie's presence made her uncomfortable, and Caitlin tugged nervously at her earring, waiting to see what Allison would do.

  "Are you telling me it was the thrill of seeing you?" Allison asked, breaking the tension.