“To the dungeons,” he rumbled to Nire. “Now. Move!”
He held his sword point to her chest, his silver brilliance causing her to writhe in pain. She turned, stumbled forward, her hands bound behind her back, blood flowing from the wound at the back of her head.
And then we were walking. And walking. Even as the Sanctuary melted to nothing around us. Nire’s purple glow lit the way like some eerie lantern.
I faded in and out of consciousness, but I was aware when Bren prodded Nire forward with his sword tip. I felt her magic struggle with his and fail, just as mine had so many times.
Moments later, I heard the resounding screech of metal as Bren used his mind to open the dungeons. Raising the bars that held my people captive.
Rol’s rumbling voice…
A boy’s, not unlike Bren’s…
A man, shouting Bren’s name…
Hundreds of cries, of pleading…
Two eyes hovered close to my face. I could barely make out the golden outline as I lay limp against Bren’s muscled shoulder. They looked sad. And familiar. Fingers brushed the cold flesh of my cheek, and I knew who it was.
My mother was free.
Relief sapped my remaining strength, threatening to steal my breath. Mother would stand with Bren. Thank the Goddess. Someone would be there to help him.
“What mess have you made, daughter?” Mother’s voice was as stark and judgmental as ever, but for once, it needled me only a bit, not even forcing a frown. Some things would never change, after all. Some things, like my mother and her never-failing negative opinion, remained as constant as the sea.
“He destroyed Nire’s spells,” someone yelled. “The walls are dissolving. And the floor—look! Torn as if an earthquake split the ground in two.”
“It’s all falling away. We’re in Salem now. Free! We are free!”
“Which way to the door to the Path?”
“Which way to Shallym?”
“Which way to Camelot?”
Mother’s sigh undercut the chaos. “This IS a terrible wreck of a rescue, Jasmina.”
“Silence!” Bren thundered into the night. His masterful voice rang clear in the now-natural air of Salem. Nire’s Sanctuary had completely vanished, leaving only scarred earth around us, and the gaping entrance to the Path. “Salem’s beginning to break off the Path, and when it pulls loose, the whole Path will collapse. There’s no time to argue. Jasmina created a place where we’ll all be safe. Everyone, follow me!”
Bren turned, holding me tight to him, and led everyone onto the failing Path. He ran, forcing Nire forward. I bounced against him, helpless as a rag doll. At times, I could see the Path’s energy wane, then surge, like power tripping along a broken wire.
Once more, Nire’s poisonous words went to battle with Bren’s. Shadowmaster versus Shadowalker. Nire’s hissing questions stabbed my mind, as if she were speaking with me.
“How long do you think you can do this, son? How long can you keep your mind on the task at hand? What happened to responding? You’re reacting now. Just reacting…”
A flicker of fear made me even colder than cold. Nire was pricking the center of Bren’s soul. I felt each piercing wound.
He was listening, but resisting her magic. He kept moving, not allowing his former self-doubt to take over. Not allowing the hurtful words to shatter his confidence.
Bren had changed. He believed in his own power. He believed in himself.
People were starting to shout, and I felt Bren’s stride grow broader. He was walking the shadows, leading my people—our people—out of danger.
If only he could get them off the Path before it was too late.
I tried to muster the strength for a thought, a word, a whisper, anything that might help him, but once more, darkness consumed me.
***
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jazz went limp against my shoulder, and I knew she had passed out again. The Path shook and blinked, and from behind us came awful ripping and tearing noises. It sounded like a thousand car wrecks.
We had to get to L.O.S.T., had to get there before Jazz got worse, had to get there before Salem tore loose, and we were all trapped on the Path forever.
Countless witches trailed behind us as I strode along the dying energy ribbon, prodding Nire forward with my sword point. She continued to hurl words at my mind, words designed to make me doubt myself. But those words no longer mattered.
Because that was all they were. Words. Words have only as much power over us as we allow them to have, I realized.
The Path shuddered, and my breath caught in my throat. We had to hurry if we were going to make it.
The moment I knew we were at L.O.S.T., I slid my sword through the Sanctuary’s door. I blinked as light flooded the entrance. Nire shrieked and turned her face away. Without her sunglasses, she couldn’t handle the brightness.
Witches, both human and oldeFolke, spilled through the opening and into L.O.S.T.
“We are saved!”
“The Shadowalker has delivered us to Sanctuary!”
Their cries echoed through the clear day. Clean scents of wind and roses blended with the mold and dirt smell of the Path. Modern pollution even smelled sweet in comparison to the Shadow stench.
“Are you coming, Brenden?” Dad asked as he came up beside me, his eyes avoiding Mom-Nire’s.
“Right behind you,” I replied, but I didn’t dare leave the Path. I had to keep my eye and my sword point on Nire.
Rol was the last to leave. “I will care for Jasmina while you do what you must.” He held out his arms, and with reluctance I allowed him to ease Jazz’s limp body from my shoulder, while I pressed my sword point deeper into Nire’s robes. Letting Jazz go was like surrendering a piece of my heart.
“What’s Brenden doing?” I heard my dad say as I sealed the Path behind Rol. After that, I heard nothing but the moaning of the failing Path.
With my sword in one hand, I grabbed Nire’s arm with my other and started pushing her down the fizzling energy-ribbon.
“Brenden, it’s just you and me now.” Her voice became my mother’s again. Gentle and loving. “Together we have tremendous power. Such incredible power.”
God, I wanted to listen to her, especially now that Jazz was safe. I wanted to believe my mom, but not because I was evil. Because I was losing her, forever. And that hurt so much. Almost too much to stand.
My steps slowed as her voice wrapped around me. “Imagine how powerful we could be together. Nothing would be able to stop us.”
Even as I reached the place I had intended to leave her, my decision wavered. Why was I fighting her? This was my mother. Maybe she did know what was right for me. For us.
“Oh, Brenden.” Mom smiled and gazed up at me. “I love you, son.”
I stopped and looked at the doorway to the Sanctuary where I had planned to open the Path and shove her through. How could I do this?
“Release me, Brenny-boy.” Her voice flowed over me, as sweet and pleasant as the song of the klatchKoven—
What had happened with those beautiful and carnivorous witches flashed through my mind. And the flower-headed beast in the ocean.
Jazz’s words of warning rang through my mind.
Don’t drop your guard. Not until you’ve heard the oath sworn by their hearts, even as other words spill from their lips.
I shook my head, breaking the bonds of Mom’s magical voice.
Mom frowned.
No—wait. This creature wasn’t the mom I knew and loved. She was the Shadowmaster.
With the last shreds of my resolve, I slit open the shuddering Path. Nire screamed as I pushed her through the opening and followed her. It was evening in this Sanctuary, so the light wasn’t bright enough to hurt her eyes.
The place where I brought Nire was the prehistoric Sanctuary where I had helped Jazz fight off the Shadows. During my practice sessions with the Path, I had explored it, and even though there were dinosaurs, it was green and beauti
ful, filled with enough food and water to allow her to survive for the balance of her lifetime. Nearby was a cave, suitable shelter from bad weather, and where she could stay when the light was too bright.
And there wouldn’t be people in this timeline for millions of years. Maybe by then she would be dead. Maybe no one else would die because of her.
I struggled against the ache in my heart to do what I had to do. Cold air spilled from the opening in the Path behind me. The moldy smell mixed with the unbelievable crystal scent of that ancient time in Earth’s history, reminding me that I would be trapped there, too, if I didn’t hurry.
“You cannot leave me here.” Nire’s panicked gaze darted around us, taking in her new reality.
I clenched my teeth, trying to hold back emotions that threatened to take over. “Turn around. I need to cut your bonds.”
Eagerness lit her eyes before she spun to offer me her tied hands. I backed up until my feet were on the Path. Reaching out my sword, I sliced through her bonds with the very tip.
“I love you, Mom,” I said at the same time I began sealing the Path.
As the opening closed forever, I saw Nire whirl and fling a fireball. The Path closed before it reached me. A sad smile touched the corner of my mouth as I imagined the fireball bouncing off the wall and returning to her. I hoped she hadn’t just hurt herself.
Using my mind, I imagined Mom’s Sanctuary like a big golden bubble on the ribbon that was the Path, just like Jazz told me she was planning to do.
My heart started hurting again, right in that place it always hurt when I felt like I had let my parents down. But I did what I had to do. And I hadn’t hurt my mom. I had spared her life, and countless others.
Plunging my sword into the floor of the Path, I cut the Sanctuary free, just like snipping a ball off a string with scissors. Then I used the pictures in my mind, the pictures Jazz had drawn for me, to shove the Sanctuary far away from the Path.
That was it. Mom was gone. Forever.
In my grief, I barely heard a rumbling. Low and harsh and jerky. Like an escalator getting jammed. The mystical ground beneath me started to shake big-time, and my gut clenched.
The Path was collapsing. Not a moment to lose.
With my heart in my throat, I ran as fast as I could, back through the draining strand of energy.
I had to get to Jazz.
***
Chapter Thirty
Sun touched my face.
The faint smell of freshly cut grass, and roses tickled my nose.
A ch-ch-ch-ch-ch sound filled the air, and I knew.
L.O.S.T.
Bren had brought me back to L.O.S.T.
My body…so, so cold. But someone was holding me. Someone was clinging to me as if he could grip my life’s essence and force it to stay.
Bren.
A boy spoke. He sounded like Bren, but younger. A man, like Bren but older, told him to stay back.
“Do something,” Bren whispered. His words were filled with pain.
“There is nothing to be done,” Rol replied. I felt a hand close over my ankle, and I knew that it was my loyal training master. “Once the Shadows invade flesh, the body is lost.”
Another hand brushed my hair. “She has always been so beautiful,” my mother whispered. Her voice was choked with tears. “Even though she failed to tend to her appearance. No matter. She’s terribly young to have paid such a price.”
Bren held me closer. “Leave her alone. This is your fault! She was trying to be perfect, for you. Because it was what you wanted!”
I heard my mother cough, a clear indication of shock or confusion. I wished for the strength to open my eyes, to speak and comfort her.
“She could never be perfect,” Mother whispered. “Her training, her father—she did the best she could, but—”
“Shut up!” Bren yelled. He pressed his face into my hair, and he, too, sobbed. His familiar scent of dirt and boy surrounded me, comforting me.
The moment was coming. It was almost upon me, and I was determined to use the last breath of the Goddess to grant Bren’s earlier request.
He seemed to sense it, to feel the approach of the second when my body would surrender its energy and free my mind for a last few seconds of lucidity.
When I opened my eyes, he was gazing into them. Tears spilled down his injured cheek and onto my face, warming my cold flesh.
“They’re safe,” he said. “All of the witches, your family and mine. I trapped the Shadowmaster in a Sanctuary and cut it loose. It worked, just like you thought it would. And the Path, I’ll build it back, okay? We’ll help the witches together.”
I smiled, and with Bren’s help, I raised my numb fingers to brush his wet cheek, tracing the wicked wound that would surely leave a scar.
He held my hand against his face. “Sorry. It’s messy, I know.”
As my fingers lingered on the gash, I let my eyes speak. I let my gaze tell Bren that I didn’t care anymore about messes or perfection, until I saw his nod of understanding.
What might it have been like to kiss him again, and again… Bren would have made a splendid husband. And I wouldn’t have been my mother, criticizing, holding him back.
I wasn’t my mother. I had given up my very self to make sure Bren succeeded. Followed the higher purpose, just like Father. And I was very proud of that.
As I finished that pleasant thought, the blessed rush of strength I had been waiting for arrived. Immediately, I opened my mouth and struggled to speak.
Bren bent closer, until his lips touched mine ever so gently. A soft, sweet kiss that nearly brought tears to my eyes.
When he pulled back, I forced my throat to give life to the single emotion swelling within me.
“I love you, Bren,” I whispered, saying it aloud, just like he had asked me to do.
And even as he smiled, Bren’s face began to fade from my vision.
L.O.S.T. faded away as well.
My eyes closed of their own accord, and I was finished.
Like a bird rising toward sunrise, my soul broke away from the Shadows and lifted upward.
For a moment, I hovered above the crowd, and stared down at my body. And at the boy I loved. There was sadness, and then a releasing.
I moved on toward Talamadden, lighter than a whisper in the morning wind.
***
Chapter Thirty-One
Five months later…
The girl was cringing on the Georgia ground, even though the mob that attacked her had long since taken off to find new people to torture. She was dressed in black jeans and a black sweater, and she had her head covered as she sobbed. Even through the paint and makeup, I could see the soft glitters of golden witch-light escaping.
We landed without a sound.
I kept the veil of invisibility around the slither as Todd slipped to the ground. He was so cocky for fourteen, swaggering like he was a big man. The man. I cleared my throat loud enough to make him jump and glare back at me. After that, he slowed down and approached her more carefully.
“Hi,” he said, sinking down on his haunches beside her. The girl looked up, and I heard her gasp as she recognized the silvery witch-light shining from my kid brother. Todd grinned. “So, what do you say, beautiful? Want to get L.O.S.T?”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. Did I ever need to teach that little freak a better line.
But it worked. Already, the girl had taken Todd’s hand, and they were headed back toward me. I flicked a finger, and the veil fell away from the slither.
The girl gave a yelp of surprise, but Todd patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it. It’s just our ride. Brooms aren’t my style.”
When we landed in L.O.S.T., my father was waiting outside the shop where I had first met Jazz. Thank the Goddess she’d had the foresight to build that insane store so the oldeFolke would have spell and potion ingredients. Otherwise, there might have been riots. Dad still didn’t like the shop much, said he wasn’t crazy about animal eyeballs a
nd bins full of teeth—but like everyone else, he treated it like a community center.
My dad, at Witch Central. It still amazed me. He looked so different outside the display window showing off a box of rotted eggplants surrounded by stacks of snakeskins. No suit, no tie. Nope, not anymore. Dad had a beard. And sideburns. As usual, he was dressed in his jeans and Live Oaks Springs Township sweatshirt, but as we touched ground, I could see the tension on his face.
Todd helped the girl toward a welcoming committee of young witches, and my father strode toward me, holding out a paper. “There’s another one. This one oldeFolke, in England.” Dad cleared his throat. “One of the hags sensed it and told me. You’d better get there fast. He’ll be killed within the hour.”
“I’ll do it!” Todd shouted and snatched the paper from Dad. Todd whistled, and I heard the flap of wings. Big wings.
My slither snorted as Todd’s yearling swept over the store and settled in the parking lot. I shook my head, staring at the two-hearted dragon nuzzling my kid brother’s dark hair. This one was red, and twice the size of the one he raised for me.
Todd’s breeding program was a huge success. The punk had always been good in biology, and the oldeFolke loved him. Even the hags fought over who got to make him dinner most nights, and if Dad had allowed it, he could have had his pick of klatchKoven beauties—until Todd saw what they really looked like and got his finger nibbled off, that is.
“Okay, okay.” I shrugged, gripping my slither’s reins. “But remember. Be polite. And take one of the elves, why don’t you?”
“Awesome.” Todd smiled broadly, and for a moment he reminded me of our mom, with his vivid blue eyes and blond hair. He stuffed the paper into his pocket and jumped onto his own slither’s back. “I’ll go find Acaw. I think I saw him back near the highway, tending some holly bushes.”
Dad frowned as he watched my brother and the slither take to the sky. I could tell it had taken everything Dad had not to counter me and tell Todd he couldn’t go.
L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set Page 24