by C. E. Murphy
“To where?”
“Back inside. Where everybody else is.”
Colin held his breath, then nodded. I got his arm around my shoulders and pushed us to our feet. The serpent didn’t move, still fixated on the sky. “Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s go.”
We took one step. The serpent snapped its gaze back down to us, glaring. Hypnotizing, even. I suddenly understood the compulsion some people had with watching snakes. Except I was afraid this thing could actually hypnotize us. “Um…”
Colin straightened up, shrugging out from under my shoulder. The serpent’s head moved a fraction of a foot, watching him instead of me. “I think it wants me,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I think you can go.”
“Are you nuts?”
He flicked a smile at me without turning his gaze away from the hulking serpent. “Yeah, but I’m cute. Go on, move, see what happens.”
I took a reluctant two steps away. The serpent’s silver gaze followed my movement, but it didn’t move. I took one more step. It was interested in Colin. “This,” I hissed, “is not really convincing me I should leave. What if it eats you?”
“Hey.” Colin shrugged. “It beats the cancer ward, Amazon. Go on, go get everybody. Maybe it won’t eat me.”
“Shit,” I said, and went.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maybe it was just me, but personally, if I’d just watched a couple of people playing Pied Piper with a seventy-foot serpent, I’d have followed the leader outside to see what happened. I’d want to know if the rats had all jumped in the river and drowned, or if they’d decided en masse to attack the Piper and have him for lunch.
The coven apparently didn’t share my curiosity. Maybe that was what too much exposure to the magical world got you. There was an animated discussion going on when I snuck back into the living room, most of it about how to best translocate the serpent and whether or not such an action would entirely disrupt the remainder of the ritual. Faye’d come down from Mel’s room to join the argument, her voice rising and falling over the general hubbub.
“Guys,” I said into the wall of noise. No one noticed. “Guys! Guys!”
Everyone fell silent, looking at me in surprise. “Okay, look, guys. Not getting rid of this thing? Not an option. This is my friends’ house and whatever the hell else we’ve done, however good our intentions, we’re responsible for that thing being in their front yard right now. We’re going to make it go somewhere else. Comprende?”
My vision reverted to normal so abruptly a headache stabbed through my right eye. I winced and stretched my face, trying to get rid of it, then blinked around in confusion. Normal colors looked garish and wrong. The sunlight was too bright and made knots of discomfort in my stomach.
“Joanne is right, of course,” Marcia said. Faye, in all her golden retriever-colored glory, looked exasperated.
“I wasn’t saying she wasn’t. I was only saying that I thought we’d have more luck if Melinda helped us—”
“What are you, crazy?” I demanded. “She has to stay in bed!”
Faye’s eyes narrowed. “Hear me out. This is her home. She’s got more natural power here than any of us, even you, Joanne. Her participation would make a big difference in establishing the territory as unfriendly.”
I twisted my mouth, looking at Marcia. She sighed and spread her hands. “Faye’s right. It could make all the difference.”
“Couldn’t one of the kids do it?” I was grasping at straws.
The Elder looked apologetic. “As an adult. Mrs. Holliday’s presence is more forceful. Also, the land belongs to her and her husband, not to the children.”
I set my teeth together. “All right. All right. But she can’t walk around, you guys. If she’s willing to do this—”
“She is,” Faye interrupted. I looked at the ceiling and ran through a silent litany of words nice girls shouldn’t say, then pressed my lips together and looked back at Faye.
“You already discussed this with her.”
“Of course. It’s her house.”
She had a point. I might not like it, but she had a point. “…okay. Look, we’re going to have to—”
“I’ll get Colin’s wheelchair,” Garth offered. “Duane and I can just carry her right down the stairs. Um. Joanne?” He looked around. “Where’s Colin?”
“Outside,” I said brightly. “Staring down a serpent.”
They were a little slow on the uptake, but I had to give them this: once I said that, they all went running for the front door. I shook my head and went upstairs to talk to Melinda.
She looked better in natural color than she had inverted, although she was still pale. The shirt turned out to be blue, which helped a lot. The kids were settled around her bed, all wide-eyed except Erik, the littlest, who was sacked out on a hand-woven throw rug in front of the dresser. “Joanne,” Melinda said. From the tone of her voice, I knew my arguments were already lost. I held up my hands.
“Okay. You win. The only thing is, I’m not sure we can put this off until Billy gets home to watch the kids. The Thing in the kitchen—”
“In the front yard,” Robert corrected. I eyed him.
“Right. In the front yard. It seems to be getting more real of its own accord. It made a mess of the front of the house.”
“I heard,” Melinda said grimly. “Robert, can I trust you to take care of your little brother and sisters while I’m busy?”
The kid puffed up. “‘Course, Mom.”
“Okay. I need you guys to stay in—” She glanced at me. “The backyard?” I nodded, and so did Mel. “The backyard until Joanne comes and gets you, or until Daddy does, okay? Joanne’s going to bring you down there now.”
“What if it gets dark?” Clara asked. I put on a smile.
“Either me or your dad should come to get you way before it gets dark,” I promised.
“Even before it starts to get chilly. This all shouldn’t take very long.”
“What’re you gonna do?” Robert asked.
“We’re going to get rid of the Thing.”
“What’re you gonna do to it?” That was Jacquie, the younger girl, who looked curious and hopeful. “Are you gonna turn it into a banana?”
I blinked at Mel. Mel shrugged and hid a grin. “Um,” I said. “Probably not. But if we do, you can eat it, okay?”
She beamed. I struggled not to laugh and went to collect Erik off the floor. “If you guys have a tent, we could put it up in the backyard and you could pretend you’re camping,” I suggested. Rob lit up and went pounding off to his room. Mel gave me a thumbs-up, and I went with the kids to set up their tent. Really, I went with the kids to watch Robert and Clara set the tent up. If they’d been relying on me, they’d have been there all night and all the exciting vanquishing would have happened without me. Fortunately, Rob knew what he was doing, and they had it together in less than ten minutes. I left Jacquie dragging sleeping bags out to the backyard and Erik still asleep, tucked inside the tent.
The coven was gathered in the front yard by the time I got done, Melinda sitting regally in her wheelchair beside Faye. I stopped to give her a hug. “You have great kids.”
“I know.” She smiled back, almost disguising the worry lines etched around her mouth and eyes. “Thanks for taking care of them. Joanne.”
“Not a problem.” I gave her another quick hug and stood up, glancing at Marcia. “So do you have a spell for this?”
“First we have to finish bringing everything into this world. I think we can translocate the serpent as soon as that’s done, so long as we’re all prepared for it.”
“Mmm-hmm. Is it going to eat Colin as soon as it’s solid?” The serpent hadn’t stopped watching the young man, who was now sitting against a tree, as entranced with the monster as it was with him.
“I don’t think so.”
I puffed out my cheeks. I liked a world of absolutes, with less of this wishy-washy thinking stuff going on. On the other hand, I didn’t see a ra
nge of stunningly good choices. “Yeah, well, you get to explain it to Garth if his brother gets eaten.”
Garth elbowed me, his smile crooked with concern. “We’re not going to let it eat him,” I promised.
“I know.”
“Joanne, will you help us?” Faye had left Melinda’s side and was standing on the far end of the yard. Marcia, the Elder and Duane had already taken up points opposite her, and the Youth was on his way to a fifth. Even I could figure this one out.
“Yeah, but what do I do?”
“Make the circle around us. With luck we’ll fit the whole serpent into the pentagram—”
I saw the light. “And it’ll be trapped in there when it becomes corporeal. It shouldn’t be able to eat Colin, right? We should be able to hold it.”
The serpent swayed its head, looking away from Colin for the first time to eye me with its black gaze. I decided I liked the silver better, although my eyes were readjusting to the normal color spectrum. “Shh,” I said to the serpent. “Never mind us. Just go on staring at Colin.”
“Gee, thanks,” Colin muttered, but kept grinning. I wasn’t sure I could blame him. If you had to die, being gobbled up by a gigantic serpent really did seem like a less dismal way to go than a slow cancer. The serpent hissed, noisy enough even without a solid form to make hairs on my arms stand up. Then it turned its gaze back to Colin, which didn’t exactly make me feel better, even if it got me out of the spotlight. I scooted over to where Marcia stood and looked around the garden uncertainly.
“This isn’t going to be the roundest circle ever,” I warned.
“It’s lopsided,” she agreed. “It’s all right. It’s more for us than anything else. Protection and familiarity. If we trust in it, it will do what we need it to do.”
“Okay. I’ve never done this. What do I do?” This was a different way to build the pentagram than I’d seen the night before, but for all I knew, there were a hundred ways to do it.
“Touch each of our shoulders as you pass, binding us to the Goddess and the God. Invoke their protection and their grace.” Marcia’s mouth quirked. “And try not to look too much like you think we’re all idiots while you’re doing it.”
I actually blushed, hoping it wasn’t visible through my new tan. “I don’t think you’re idiots,” I mumbled. Crazy. I thought they were crazy. It was a small but important difference. Also, they were the kind of crazy that clearly packed a punch, so I wasn’t going to sneeze at them. Or mention it out loud, for that matter. I can, on occasion, be taught.
Nevertheless, I felt completely ridiculous walking around the five points and muttering thanks and prayers and invocations to a pair of deities I wasn’t at all sure were listening. My skepticism didn’t seem to thwart the power lines that shot up between the other five coven members. For an instant, they were brilliant gold, the color of the sunset. Then my vision went inside-out again, and they fell into the familiar silver lines I’d seen the night before. I sighed and pressed my fingers over my eyes, hoping my vision would be all right again when I stopped. It wasn’t. Tomorrow I’d go see my eye doctor.
The others had taken up their places around the circle, leaving the serpent in the center. Only Colin was outside of it, still leaning against his tree, the serpent watching him. Mel made up the thirteenth of the coven, with Faye on one side of her and me on the other, as I filled in the last obviously empty space in the circle.
Another jolt of power stung through me as I took my place. It was brighter and more distinct than the gold/silver protective barriers that had gone up around the pentagram. It felt hard and pure and white: Virissong.
Joanne, he said fondly, inside my skull. I flinched from the belly out, like somebody’d poked me. “What?”
Mel and Faye and Duane, on my other side, all looked at me. “Um.” God, I was so clever I could hardly stand myself. “You guys didn’t hear that, did you?”
Faye’s eyes brightened. “He speaks to you again?” She had the note of zealotry in her voice again, making me hunch my shoulders against it. “What does he say?”
We’ll be together soon, Virissong said, sounding pleased. You should be able to almost see me now. You’ve done well, Joanne. I owe you a great debt of gratitude.
“See you?” I asked hoarsely. By and large, all I could see was the tremendous silver serpent, and four or five coven members all peering at me with interest. Beyond them, Colin gazed up at the serpent, the spirit snake around his shoulders a physical burden I could nearly see. It seemed to be settling farther into Colin, as if its bulk were adding to his. He looked healthier and stronger. I threw a thought of thanks to the spirits again, shaking my head at the same time. “I don’t see—”
My eyes snapped back to Colin and the snake. “Virissong? ”
The spirit snake lifted its head and flicked its tongue at me. Inside my head, Virissong chortled, pleased. I’ve lent him my strength, as you asked. In exchange, he’ll lend me his body.
“But I thought—!” I cut myself off with a strangled sound as Virissong chuckled in my mind again.
That I would return to my body? Three thousand years dead, Joanne? I think “ick” would be the technical term. Colin and I are agreed on this, he said more flatly. This is the price of sacrifice.
I crossed my eyes, completely distracted and trying to see inside my own head. “‘Ick is the technical term’? Are you sure you’re three thousand years old?” My heart was pounding too hard, pushing up lumps of nausea and worry from my stomach. I was sweating and cold and too hot all at once, my hands clenched in fists. Virissong was right, I knew he was right: there had to be an exchange, a price of sacrifice. My vision was tunneling down, getting narrower, and breathing was getting harder. It wasn’t the pain of a sword through my lungs. It was a little more like the desert heat pressing down on my chest. I swallowed and shook my head. “Colin?” My voice went up a register and broke. “Are you really okay with this?”
He didn’t look away from the serpent swaying overhead. “It’s fine, Amazon. It’s cool. I’m fine. Go ahead and finish this up so we can all get out of here.” He flashed me a smile without really looking my way. “I’m supposed to be back at the hospital by nine,” he reminded me.
Beneath the conversation with Colin, Virissong smiled, the expression warming the voice inside my mind. I am, yes, thousands of years old. But I’ve always had—how would you say it. Avatars? In the Middle World. Men and women who do my will and who have helped keep me up on the changes in language. And Colin, he promised, soothingly, will not go back to the hospital tonight, or ever again. My strength will be his for eternity.
“Who?” I asked, bewildered. “Who’s your avatar? Colin?” Underneath that, the sarcastic voice in my head said, eternity’s a very long time, but Virissong didn’t respond. Instead I found my head turning to the left, my tunneled vision blocking out everyone except Faye, with her bright puppy eyes and smile.
Colin is the host, Virissong caroled in my head. I sent her the dream of you, and she brought you here so we can rebuild the world, Joanne Walker. There is so much that we can do!
The slice across my left palm itched and tingled so badly I slapped my hands together, rubbing gingerly at the stitches to try to relieve some of the pain as I stared at Faye. There was a little hurt in her eyes: she knew, I realized. She knew Virissong had passed her over and was talking to me. “Last night,” I said numbly. “The blood ritual. You knew because he actually told you how to do it.”
More injury darkened her eyes. Brightened them, in my inversed vision, making them hard white agates that perversely reminded me of Judy’s bright black eyes. “That’s what we said happened, Joanne. Didn’t you believe us?”
“I didn’t quite understand.”
“But you understand now.” Faye’s mouth was set somewhere between angry and hopeful. “We only have to finish the ritual, Joanne, and he’ll help us right the heat wave you started. Not just in Seattle, but all over. Global warming. And so much more, too.” S
he clasped her hands together over her stomach, leaning toward me in her intensity. “We’re on the verge of changing the world. Can’t you feel it?”
I looked from Faye to the enormous serpent that dominated the pentagram. It waited, patient, never taking its eyes from Colin. It knew him. It knew the strength he was gaining from Virissong. Colin watched it serenely. The snake settling into his shoulders coiled around him snugly, becoming more and more a part of him.
The few coven members I could see looked absurdly distant, the confines of my vision pushing them away. I felt like I’d lost all my depth perception; like my mind knew I was looking at people who stood hundreds of feet away, rather than half a dozen steps from me. They held themselves terribly still, as if they were caught in amber, waiting while the world around them prepared to change.
“There’s only one more step to take to bring him back,” Faye whispered to me. “One more sacrifice to make, and the world will be ours. Are you ready, Joanne?”
“What sacrifice…?” My own voice sounded like it came from as far away as the coven members appeared to be. I felt thick and uncertain. Faye pressed something into my hands, a handle. I looked down to discover a bone knife, the ivory blade glowing black and deadly in my reversed vision. “It’s beautiful,” I said remotely. It throbbed with power, matching the itch and tingle in my left hand. It took the strength out of my legs. I knelt, feeling awkward and jerky, though my knees touched the ground so lightly it seemed like I’d borrowed a swan’s grace. I felt like I had the night before, before I walked into the fire. I knew what had to be done. It was just a matter of preparing myself mentally. I could do it.
“It was Virissong’s,” Faye whispered reverently. “The sacrifice must be made, Joanne. Are you ready?”
I put the knife across both my hands and lifted it, then twisted my right hand beneath the hilt so I could grab it. I thought the blade would slide between my ribs tidily, maybe without much pain. The idea made me want to laugh, but I couldn’t quite reach the laughter. The sacrifice had to be made. It seemed a pity to not be able to go out laughing, but at least I could change the world. I lifted the knife, taking a deep breath.