Legacy & Spellbound

by Nancy Holder

  At that instant there was a loud rumbling down the hill by the shore. A large dust cloud was rolling along the sand, and when it cleared, Eli and Nicole were lying in the water and three very large creatures were emerging from the ground.

  “Golems!” yelled Philippe. With that, Tommy was off running, stumbling, and rolling down the hill toward Nicole. He was still over a hundred yards away when one of the Golems reached Nicole. Nicole tried to kick it but to no effect. It reached down and picked her up by the front of her dress like a rag doll. A second Golem was reaching for Nicole’s legs as if to tear her apart.

  “Do something, hurry!” Sasha yelled in a near panic.

  At that moment the hairs on the back of Philippe’s head lifted, and four more Golems raced past him, heading directly for Tommy. Philippe shouted, panic flooding him.

  Richard, who had been slightly higher up the hill than the others and was looking the other way, whirled around. In a movement so sudden and yet incredibly smooth, he had unslung the sniper rifle, raised it, and fired twice. There was almost no sound, just a soft phfft, phfft, and two Golems dropped to the ground, the first e on each of their foreheads neatly replaced by perfectly round little holes. Philippe was stunned by the look of controlled rage on Richard’s face. Before he and Sasha could even react, Richard was racing past them and was about fifty feet behind Tommy.

  Tommy reached Nicole just as the two Golems were beginning to pull her in opposite directions. He jumped on the back of the one closest to him, bringing his right arm up and around the Golem’s forehead. The Golem tried to shake Tommy off, but that only served to wipe away the e . Three down. As Tommy was riding the back of the Golem to the ground, three more shots rang out and the Golems who had just reached Tommy fell. Philippe felt his jaw grow slack.

  The last remaining Golem had Nicole by the head. He’s going to kill her.

  Another phfft sound, and the final beast dropped to the ground still clutching Nicole. Richard had fired again while at a dead run.

  As though in slow motion, Philippe watched as Eli rolled up to a sitting position and raised his hands into the air. He could see his lips moving but could not hear what spell Eli was chanting. Richard reached behind his head and unsheathed a long, wicked knife that had been resting between his shoulder blades. It went sailing end over end before driving itself into the ground between Eli’s legs. Even from that distance, Philippe could see the warlock turn ash white.

  “You just sit still,” Richard boomed. “Breathe wrong and I kill you.”

  As Philippe scrambled down the hill, his heart was pounding. Eli was sitting absolutely still, not even blinking.

  Tommy rolled off his dead Golem, turned, and shouted at Richard, “You could have hit her.”

  “No, there was six inches above her head,” Richard said as tears of joy rolled down his face. He was cradling his daughter in his arms, and she was clutching him and sobbing.

  As Philippe ran up, Richard extended an arm to him and he joined them in the circle. He reached out and touched Nicole’s arm, and an electric shock went through him.

  He gasped and looked down at her distended abdomen. She’s pregnant! His head reeled with the possibilities. He reached down with a shaking hand and touched her stomach. What magic is this? Then, with a sudden, devastating certainty, he knew— it’s not mine!

  “Where, where did those other Golems come from?” Tommy panted.

  “I think they were following us,” Philippe said.

  Sasha stood, taking in the whole scene. Dead Golems lay everywhere. She reached down and touched one lightly, shuddering at the contact. “These last went after you, not Nicole,” she noted to Tommy. “I think they’re the same ones that were trying to find Amanda.”

  “But that makes no sense. Amanda’s not here,” Tommy protested.

  “It makes perfect sense,” Philippe answered quietly. “We’ve blocked Amanda’s essence from them, so they turned to the only person who carries a piece of her inside himself.”

  “Yes, you and Amanda are in thrall, a part of each belongs to the other. When we left the group, the Golems must have been able to sense Amanda in you and came after you.”

  Tommy shuddered. “Do you think there are any more?”

  Sasha shook her head. “Jer said four came after Holly. We know these four”—she gestured—“were after Amanda. We may be able to assume they are searching in groups of four. If that’s the case, though, only three were attacking Nicole.”

  “One of them was dead already,” Eli said quietly. “I killed it back in the castle.”

  Sasha turned to stare at him. “Thank you for getting her out.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he snarled. “I didn’t do it for you, or for her. Trust me, I’ll kill all of you the first chance I get.”

  “I say we don’t give him that chance,” Tommy muttered.

  Sasha could tell that Philippe agreed wholeheartedly but compassion for her kept him from voicing his feelings.

  She looked down at Eli. There was hate raging in his eyes. He stood slowly, head half-turned toward Richard, who kept his eyes riveted on him. “The Horned God will destroy you, all of you,” he hissed.

  “Eli! I did not raise you to be a servant of evil.”

  “No, that’s right. You didn’t. You didn’t raise me at all,” he snapped. “No, you bailed out and left that to Dad. Now you want to come back into my life and judge me ? How dare you! Instead, you are the one who needs to be judged. You are the one who abandoned your children and never once looked back! And now, what, you get to act all surprised and hurt that we take after Dad. Gee, big surprise, he was the one who was there. He gave me my first lessons in magic, he taught me how to drive a car, he told me how to treat women. You left me with him knowing what he is and you’re surprised at how I turned out?” He was screaming at the last, his face crimson, and spittle flying from his mouth.

  He raised his hands as though he was going to attack her. From the corner of her eye she saw Richard draw another knife, and then suddenly a shiny black demon knocked Eli off his feet.

  The thing resembled a giant cockroach, complete with exoskeleton. It scrabbled on six legs and twisted around, its fangs headed for Eli’s neck. He punched the thing in the head, though, and it whimpered and skittered away while he leaped to his feet.

  “Say good-bye,” a voice hissed from somewhere behind her. Sasha twisted around to see a nymph aiming a crossbow at Eli.

  “No!” she shouted, lunging at Eli and trying to knock him out of the way.

  She hit Eli, and both of them began to fall. She felt the arrow as it pierced her back, burrowing through her body and toward her heart. Then, there was a great whoosh and a blinding light.

  They hit the ground, which was made of stone and covered with straw.

  “Welcome,” a silky female voice purred.

  Sasha looked up, amazed that she could still do so, and began to laugh hysterically.

  “Who is she?” Eli asked, his voice dripping with fear.

  A stately woman in black and silver robes, crowned with black veils and a diadem of silver, stood over him. Her mouth twisted. “I am Isabeau of the House Cahors, and you are most welcome.”

  “Where did they go?” Nicole shouted.

  A moment before, Eli and Sasha had been falling. They had hit the ground and vanished. Their disappearance had been accompanied by a sound like a sonic boom.

  The demon who had shot Sasha staggered backward, a dagger in its chest. It collapsed to the ground, wheezing and gurgling. Tommy had grabbed the cockroach creature and twisted its head off.

  Tommy stood slowly, looking sick. Purple blood covered the lower half of his face.

  “I’m not sure, but I think it might have something to do with a spell Amanda and I cast.”

  “Explain,” Philippe demanded.

  “We did a spell so we would stay alive and together. When we were done, there was a surge of power. Just now, I felt it again, just before they disappeared.”


  Nicole felt a wave of nausea rush over her. “Maybe Pablo can figure out where they went,” she gasped when it had passed. “Where is everyone, anyway?”

  She saw Philippe and Tommy exchange a quick glance. They’re wondering how much to tell me, she realized.

  “Let’s just say they’re on the Continent,” her father said cautiously.

  She glanced up at him, seeing him with new eyes. “You never wanted to fight again, to use your training again, did you? You never wanted us to know who or what you are, and Mom never wanted to know either.”

  The look on his face was validation, and she could feel all the pain that he had kept to himself for so long. “Mom recoiled from your scars and never let you talk, so your soul could heal. So you just turned into a simple, quiet, fade-into-the-background kind of person. Well, it’s out now, Dad. You are—”

  “Ssh, honey. It’s okay,” he said, interrupting her. “All that matters is that you’re safe.” His face was full of tenderness, but slowly his look changed to one of grim resolve. “Now, let’s go find your sister.”

  With her father on one side and Philippe on the other, Nicole rose shakily to her feet. “My men,” she joked weakly, and they both laughed, humoring her.

  She could feel the baby move inside of her and she winced. What I wouldn’t give for a nap. She glanced around quickly, wondering if Fantasme had come back, but the hulking creature was nowhere to be seen. Go, find your master and Sasha, she bid him silently, knowing he would never listen to her.

  France, 13th Century

  “We’re dead,” Sasha said as she rolled over onto her back and stared up at Isabeau.

  “No, Madame, you are not,” the Cahors witch assured her, and though she was speaking in medieval French, Sasha understood every word she said.

  “If we’re not dead, then where are we?” Eli asked, looking around suspiciously. “How do we know if—”

  “You are in my home, my time.” The beautiful princess inclined her head. “Inside the castle of my husband, Jean de Deveraux, and his father, Duc Laurent.”

  Sasha sat up slowly, confused and unsteady. She saw the gray stone walls, adorned with battleaxes, picks, and maces. A long wooden table was covered with the remains of a recent feast, and rushes were strewn on the floor.

  “We’re in France, six hundred years ago?” Sasha asked her. “How did this happen?”

  A cloud passed over Isabeau’s face as she regarded her surprise visitor. “A portal was opened between our two times. It was an accident. I stepped through and pulled you from your time.”

  “Why?”

  “To save your life,” Isabeau answered.

  Sasha slowly stood to her feet. She wanted desperately to reach out and touch the other woman, to assure herself that she was flesh and blood. Is it she, or her spirit? Does the woman still live, or has the Massacre already occurred?

  Isabeau reached out her hand and touched Sasha’s. Her skin was soft and warm. “I am flesh,” she said simply. “I was told to look for you.”

  And then in her mind, Sasha heard her speak. He is Deveraux.

  He is my son, she replied.

  “You worship the Goddess,” Isabeau asked her out loud.

  “I do, yes.”

  Then you understand my pain.

  “Your husband. Jean.”

  My love.

  Sasha felt a sudden rush of giddiness. I can stop it, she thought. I can keep it all from happening.

  “You can stop nothing,” Isabeau told her, her voice filled with sadness. “Nor can I. All we can do is watch and pray.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Eli asked, standing.

  “Her future,” Sasha whispered.

  Isabeau smiled, and it broke Sasha’s heart. She knows! On some level, she knows all that is to come.

  “A choice has been placed before you both. You may remain here, to live out your days, or you can return to your own place and time.”

  She nodded to Sasha. “If you should choose to return, you will die from your wound.”

  The arrow! So, I was not far wrong in thinking I was dead already.

  “Indeed,” Isabeau said to her. “But how many days you will live, I cannot say. Wild days and nights will unfold soon. Of your own fate, I have no knowledge. Of my own …” She turned her face away and sighed. “I have it in me to stop it from happening.”

  Sasha’s lips parted in surprise. “Would I be able to do anything to help you? Could we manage it together?”

  Isabeau stared at her. “I have no idea,” she answered frankly.

  “Perhaps the Goddess sent me here,” Sasha told her. “So many die, do they not, once our families clash in the flames? If you and I could change the future, would the Supreme Coven still rise? Will the Mother Coven become so weak, if you and I together worked magic now, in your time?”

  “I … I don’t know,” Isabeau murmured.

  “What of your mother?” Sasha asked, her blood warming. “Would she join us?”

  Isabeau smiled bitterly. “For her, the fate of all in this castle is sealed. They shall all die.”

  “I shall stay,” Sasha replied. “Even if we fail to change what is to come, I’m a survivor. Better to live, no matter what century. And no matter if for a few days or a hundred. And whether we can stop the Massacre or not.”

  Eli stood, emotions that she couldn’t read colliding inside him. She could see the struggle, but there was nothing she could do to help him. Death could conceivably await him no matter which he chose. He could die in the Castle Massacre along with dozens of Deveraux, or he could die in his time by the hand of the Supreme Coven, or his own father’s.

  She could see his fear, his confusion, and for the first time since she had left, she felt close to him. He’s just a child, still searching for his way in the dark, she thought.

  He turned to her, his eyes full of questions she could not answer, and her heart began to break. She reached out and touched his cheek, and for a moment he let her before he jerked away.

  Our whole lives have been leading to this, she realized.

  He took a step back and turned to Isabeau. “I choose to return.”

  The young woman inclined her head.

  He lifted a hand. “Can you return me to London instead of Avalon?”

  Isabeau nodded. “The portal was initially formed in London by two who wanted to shield themselves and their love for eternity. I can return you there.”

  “Good.”

  “What do you intend to do?” Sasha asked.

  He looked her in the eyes. “I don’t know yet.”

  She grasped his hand and swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. She hadn’t been a part of his life for years, but there had always been the possibility that that could change. Now, that would be lost to them both. “I will try to come to you,” she whispered.

  He nodded that he understood, but he didn’t say anything. He let go of her hand, Isabeau made a motion in the air, and with a rush of wind, he was gone.

  Michael Deveraux: London

  It was nearly time. In a few hours it would be Wind Moon and blood would be shed. Michael Deveraux smiled. In a few hours House Deveraux would take its rightful place as head of the Supreme Coven. His ceremonial robes flowed about him as he walked toward the altar. He had prepared several sacrifices to appease the Horned God, that he might look with favor upon Michael.

  Duc Laurent was there, smiling wickedly and dressed from head to toe in black leather. “Tonight, the Black Fire will consume our enemies, and will visit destruction upon all who stand in our way.”

  Considering that the Black Fire had, at least, indirectly, been the death of the Duc, Michael admired his fearlessness. “You’re sure my son will be there?”

  Laurent nodded. “He and what’s left of the Cahors Coven are planning to attack the Supreme Coven tonight.”

  Michael shook his head at the audacity, and at the foolishness of it. “What can they hope to achieve by such an assa
ult? They are weak, divided, and Holly is still possessed.” At least, last my imp saw her, she was.

  Laurent laughed. “Who cares—so long as they are there, we can use them.”

  Jer is the key, Michael thought with bitter amusement. That was why we were able to conjure the Black Fire in the high school gym. Eli and I were chanting, but his presence was key. The son who disobeys me and tries to break with our magic will lead to the destruction of all. How poetic. I guess he can’t help it. Deveraux are just born bad.

  “What do you think, pet?” Michael called out.

  Kari walked in from the other room, listless and dazed. “That’s nice,” she said, though she clearly had no idea what was nice.

  “How long do you plan on keeping her like this?” Laurent asked, pursing his lips.

  “Oh, a little while longer, at least.”

  “You should kill her now, before the battle. The mesmerism takes some concentration, concentration you could easily lose during the fight.”

  Michael shrugged his shoulders and sneered. “Look at her. Do you really think she’s a threat? Besides, I’m saving her for the after-Massacre celebration.”

  Tri-Coven: London

  Jer was nervous. The coven wasn’t prepared to take on both the Supreme Coven and his father, yet in a few scant hours they were going to war with them both. He touched his face, feeling the scars that lingered there. The last battle his father had been involved with hadn’t ended well.

  Now I’m hideous, disfigured, a monster outside to match the monster within. He searched his heart and still found himself lacking. He knew not which deity he owed his allegiance to, and he was filled with rage and bitterness.

  What would I have been like had I grown up in a different family, one who worshiped the Goddess? Would I be more like Alex? Can he really be as good and pure as he seems, or is it all a masquerade?

  He wasn’t going to find the answers to his questions, at least not in time to help with the battle to come.