by Nancy Holder
There was no response. With tears blurring her vision Amanda turned and saw where Derek had taken refuge behind a large stone. She half-crawled, half-ran to him.
“We need Holly!” she shouted into his face.
“Holly’s not here; she’s in the Temple.”
“She still has a real body. The Temple has to be a real place, too! Find it. You know how to find everyone! Find her!”
“There’s no way to find the Temple, even if she is there,” he shouted back.
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head around so that he could see Nicole’s broken body. “She’s dead, which means her legal will is activated. So, tell me, Derek, where all her relatives are.”
Understanding lit his features. He pulled some satchels out of his pockets and began mixing the ingredients together on the ground. While he worked, Sasha joined them.
“We need Holly,” she said.
“We’re trying to find her,” Amanda said.
“Even if we can find her, I don’t know how you think you’re going to get to her,” Derek said.
“Leave that to me,” Sasha said.
A moment later they had their answer, and in the blink of an eye Sasha was gone. Moments later she was back and Holly was with her.
Holly looked around her at the destruction and at the Goddess and the Horned God as they battled each other. “Not supposed to interfere,” she muttered as one in a trance.
Amanda slapped her hard. “Open your eyes, Holly. People are dying. The Goddess killed one of her own followers. How is this balance? How is this anything but chaos?”
Holly turned, and her eyes found Jer. A dozen spectral warriors circled him, trying to break through a magical barrier he had erected around himself. From the way he was hunched over, he was either badly injured or protecting something.
Owen. Jer was cradling Owen in his arms, trying to protect him. Holly knew that he would fail and both of them would die. She knew she should care. She did care.
She turned to Sasha just in time to see her eyes roll back in her head as she toppled forward into Holly’s arms, a dozen ice daggers in her back. Holly dropped the body and stared at it for a moment. Jer’s mother, lost so many times, was now truly dead. And for what? Cut down not by an enemy but by the deity she had worshipped.
Holly turned and raised her arms. “Stop!” she cried.
All sound ceased. The God and the Goddess turned toward her, weapons at the ready. “I bind you both!” she said.
Clouds coursed across the sky. The sun winked out, covered by the moon, and the world hung breathless as the two titans froze in place.
And Kari, the dead girl Jer had once loved, turned and faced her. Her mouth dropped open.
“It does not end with this.” A strange, echoic voice emanated from her unmoving mouth. It was like the Justices, but it was not they.
“This was never about Jean and Isabeau or Laurent and Catherine or any of us. It was always about them.”
Kari’s arm slowly raised as she pointed to the Horned God and the Goddess.
“The old ways, in ancient times, were about balance. The two of them were worshipped together as equals, husband and wife, brother and sister. Many people still worship them that way. But something happened, and they weren’t content to be equals. So they started their feud, luring magic families into choosing one side or another. And we’re the ones who pay in their little war.”
“Deveraux chose the God and Cahors chose the Goddess,” Holly said.
“No! Both chose the God, but together they were too powerful, the balance tipped, the Justices intervened. When Cahors and Deveraux began to fight each other, Cahors changed sides.”
“How do you know this?” Holly demanded. “Who are you?”
Kari turned slowly and pointed to the armies of ghosts. “They tell me. They bear witness to it all.”
Holly saw it then: a blazing force that towered above the will of the Justices. Balance was all, balance must be kept, and the God and Goddess were not doing as they should, not killing whom they should.
“It is up to you,” said the voice—the voice of the One Higher, the One Whom Holly truly served.
Holly humbly bowed her head. Then she raised her arms and pronounced the last judgment.
“God and Goddess, I bind you and I banish you from this field of battle, and you may not return. Ever.”
Jer raised his head just in time to see the Horned God and the Goddess vanish. He then turned to stare at Holly, who stood magnificent in her white robes with her hair flying around her head and her eyes glowing bright. Maybe they were all saved.
Then she lowered her arms and turned away, and Laurent’s knights broke through his barriers. “Holly, help us!” Jer shouted.
He didn’t think she had heard him, because she kept walking away.
“Holly, please! Don’t leave me.”
She stopped and turned slowly. “Why do you ask me to tip the scales?” she asked, her voice hollow.
“For the only thing that is more important than balance,” he said.
“And that is?”
“Love. Holly Cathers, I love you, and I will chase you through this world and the next.”
And then she smiled. “You won’t have to,” she whispered.
She threw up her arms again and the warriors that surrounded him collapsed into dust. Richard rushed forward and took Owen from Jer.
Isabeau and Jean were moving. She didn’t know where; she just knew they were moving on. She heard screaming and glanced down at the bodies of their hosts crumpled below.
“We owe them our freedom,” she said to Jean.
“I have some unfinished business. Will you wait for me?” he asked her.
She nodded and glided close to the bodies.
“Merci, et adieu, mes braves. For what you have given us, I will you to live.” With spectral fingers she touched first Nicole and then Eli. They each awoke with a gasp.
Isabeau turned away and looked for her husband.
Jean strode across the field of battle with the strength and glory that had been his on the day he’d taken Isabeau as his bride. All who looked upon his face fell back in terror. He gave them not a second glance. There was only one whom he sought.
And then he was upon her, Catherine, of the house of Cahors. Her spectral form was nearly as imposing as her real one had been. She turned, and when she saw him, fear flickered in her eyes. He conjured a vial of fine powder in his hands, a special concoction he had been working on for centuries. He had often thought about using it on himself, but this was a far better use.
“To hell with you,” he spat, and threw the powder on her.
She screamed in torment, and a moment later she was gone.
Gone.
Forever, damn her to hell.
He turned back to find Isabeau, and was stayed by the hand of Duc Laurent, his father, somehow alive and in the flesh. That was one trick the old man had never shared with his children.
“Jean,” Laurent began. “Unmanned by that—”
Before he could complete his thought, Jer Deveraux, his many-times-grandson, walked up behind the great duke and savagely ran an athame across his throat. Blood gushed; the duke fought to close the wound, and instead fell forward, dead. Blood pooled around his inert body, and soaked into the grass.
For a moment Jean and Jer stared at each other. Many times they had shared the same body without ever meeting.
Jean bowed his head in deference, and Jer saluted him in turn. They stood for a moment, and then Jean smiled.
“Take better care of your witch than I took of mine,” Jean said.
“I will,” Jer vowed.
Jean turned and saw Isabeau, waiting patiently. He went to her, wrapped his soul around her, and together they left behind everything they had ever known.
Nicole pulled the dagger from Eli’s chest and screamed as he did the same for her. The wounds healed instantly and they lay, trembling, exhausted, and ter
rified in each other’s arms.
She remembered it, all of it. And she knew also that the first time she and Eli had been together, Isabeau’s presence had been inside her, so that her own memories had been fuzzy. Jean and Isabeau had tried to possess Eli and her long before they had turned their attention to Jer and Holly. Eli’s protective marks had worked.
She began to cry. Eli wrapped his arms around her and they held tightly to each other while the battle continued to rage around them.
When she felt hands grabbing at her shoulders, she tried to shrug them off.
“Nicole!”
Amanda and Holly stood above her, each holding a piece of the amulet. The pieces had been given to the three Cahors witches in preparation for this moment. “It’s time,” Holly said.
With Eli’s help Nicole got to her feet. She produced her piece of the amulet.
“We still don’t know what to do with them,” Amanda said, her voice tired and frightened.
“I think I know someone who does,” Eli said, his voice cracking.
Nicole turned to look at him, and there, next to him, was the ghost of Philippe.
“Philippe!” she cried, weeping, holding out her arms.
“Nicole, I gave my life for this one piece of knowledge that can save you,” he said.
Nicole could hear the sounds of people dying, and she knew without having to look that Merlin was not far away. “What do we do?”
“Place the amulets one on top of the other with yours on the bottom and Amanda’s in the middle. Holly’s piece must lie on top. Then twist the top one clockwise and the bottom one counterclockwise.”
They did as he said. Amanda, Nicole, and Holly, the Three Ladies of the Lily. Overhead, the sky grew darker; then jagged pieces of crimson showed through, as if the world were bleeding.
The discs slid into place with a click and the thrum of power pulsed through the discs.
“It takes three to make it work. Listen, here is what you each must say in turn.”
Nicole tried to listen over the pounding of her heart and the sounds of death all around them. The ground rumbled again. She felt light-headed, sick.
Philippe’s image shimmered in the air. “Hurry!” he urged. “Merlin is going to change everything. If you cannot stop him, death will come to millions.”
And she saw what would happen: all over the world, people dying—old people, babies, animals, plants. The world would be ravaged, and once everything was dead, Merlin would start over, fashioning it as he wished. That was his insanity, his evil. He had gone so long ago with his brothers to see the Christ child, not to worship Him, but to bind Him with silver, so that He could never save the world that Merlin intended to destroy.
She saw pillars of fire; saw tortures; heard screams. Merlin was a madman of incredible power. An evil being.
Perhaps he was even Satan, made flesh.
Nicole stumbled over her words, but Amanda picked up the string of Latin and continued fluently. Holly opened her mouth to speak, and a fireball exploded in her face.
She crumpled to the ground with a cry, and Nicole turned to see Merlin galloping toward them as if in slow motion—glowing, laughing, and growing larger.
“You must start over!” Philippe said, flickering more.
Nicole took a deep breath and then yanked Amanda down beside her.
“I can’t see,” Holly whimpered.
“You don’t have to see,” Nicole said, guiding Holly’s hand to the disc.
“What’s the matter, ladies? Having trouble remembering a simple spell?” Merlin laughed. Each laugh broke pieces of the sky, and the moon began to spin like a top.
Kari threw herself against Merlin, knocking him off balance. Nicole began her part of the spell.
Merlin stabbed Kari through the heart with his athame, but she remained standing. A look of surprise crossed his face.
Amanda took up her part of the spell.
“Dead,” Kari said. “Me. You.”
“How dare you,” Merlin said. “I am not dead. I’m eternal, like Him.”
Merlin swiped at her with his blade and took off her arm. Dead, decaying blood rained down onto them all, and Nicole began to gag.
Holly began her part of the spell.
And then Merlin cut off Kari’s head. It fell onto the ground next to Nicole and the dead eyes looked up at Merlin.
“Thank—”
And then Kari, the dead girl, was truly dead again.
“Divine One, make me an Instrument, a Saving Force. Make me into Peace. Make me into Power.
Make me in Your Image.”
Merlin turned toward Holly, raised his athame, and she said the final word.
“Selah.”
Light blossomed, shimmering, a mushroom around Merlin. He raised his hands to cover his face, shouting, as the light became a funnel of incandescence and tossed him into the sky. Higher it rose, and higher, lifting him into the darkness, which became light as the whirlwind streaked toward the moon. And higher.
And then, in a flash of white light, the funnel was gone.
And so was Merlin.
And so were the forces of the enemy.
In the twinkling of an eye.
For a moment all was still.
Then Nicole jumped to her feet, and faced Philippe. He smiled at her.
“I knew you could do it,” he said. “I have always had faith in you, Nicole.”
“I love you,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I love you, too. I will always watch over you as long as you walk the earth.” His smile faded slowly, and then he was gone.
Amanda helped Holly to her feet. Together the three turned. The enemy had vanished, utterly.
Jer walked toward them, and slowly the ghosts who had come to fight on their side began to leave as well. One, however, walked beside Jer. He looked familiar, though Nicole did not know him.
“Holly, dear,” the ghost said.
“Daddy?” Holly asked, moving around Nicole as she burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, baby. You’ve done well. Your mom and I are at peace and you and I will see each other again.” He seemed to shift slightly, grow more solid as Jer put a hand on his shoulder. Then Danny Cathers stepped forward and hugged his daughter good-bye.
Nicole turned away, crying for them both. Then her heart caught in her throat. Thirty feet away, her mother was kissing her father. She wanted to go to them, but something deep inside told her that her father needed the moment more than she did. She nudged Amanda, and her sister turned to look and then began to cry too.
It was hard to believe that it was over. So much blood spilled, so much destruction. Nicole didn’t know how she was going to adjust to peace, but she was looking forward to trying.
After Holly’s father left, Jer gave her a swift kiss and promised to be back with her as soon as he’d checked on their people. He walked the battlefield and surveyed the damage.
Kari, Sasha, both were dead. Hot tears burned in the back of his eyes for them both. Rose and Luna of the Mother Coven were gone as well. He already knew that Dr. Nigel Temar was dead: Jer had taken Owen when he’d seen that the doctor had sustained a mortal wound.
Owen and Richard were both safe. Anne-Louise was bloodied but alive. Next to her, her sister, Eve, seemed to not care that both her legs were broken as she sat on the ground kissing Derek. Jer found Pablo and Armand, both alive but hurt and being tended to by the three angels—Mercy, Grace, and Justice. Around them lay the bodies of hundreds of demons.
Jer turned back at last toward Holly and her cousins. Eli was standing protectively over Nicole while Tommy was holding Amanda as she cried. Slowly they all drifted together.
Hours later the survivors gathered in a private room in the Temple of the Mother Coven, after having washed up and had their wounds looked to. Anne-Louise couldn’t help but feel a little amused at the looks of discomfort on the faces of the four warlocks in the group. Now that they had seen the true natures of th
e Horned God and Goddess, though, they needed to put aside such distinctions and fighting among themselves.
She cleared her throat. “Obviously the events of today have changed much, not only in our own lives but in the lives of all practitioners.”
“Who will be the new high priestess of the Mother Coven?” Amanda asked.
“Apparently I am,” Anne-Louise said.
She was met by smiles. “I think that is a very wise choice,” Armand said.
“Congratulations, I think,” Eli said.
“And just how will those in the Mother Coven cope with the high priestess being from a warlock family?” Jer asked.
Anne-Louise smiled grimly. “As with all organizations, we adapt or die. In the modern world it’s not about names and families; it can’t be. It’s about individuals. I believe that you make your own fate no matter what cards you’ve been dealt.”
“Well said, sis,” Eve teased.
Anne-Louise looked at her and Derek. “The two of you are welcome to join this coven if you so choose.”
“I think we’re going to have to think about it,” Derek said for both of them. “I’ll be honest, though. Right now all I want to focus on is this lovely lady here.”
Eve blushed. “We’re not going anywhere, Anne-Louise,” she said firmly.
Anne-Louise inclined her head. “Thank you. It is not going to be easy, but with help I believe we can change a lot of things that need to be changed. So, my question to all the rest of you is, where do you go from here?”
Armand smiled. “I’m going to return to the priesthood. There are rumors that the Vatican plans to reinstate their exorcism training programs. They’re going to need help.”
“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have protecting the world from demons,” Holly said earnestly. She kissed him on the cheek. “Without you I would have died.”
“We all would have,” Richard said.
“I have to go back to the Temple. I’m still a Justice,” Holly said, clearing her throat. She was blind now, like the others Justices. It was a small price, but still, it was a price.
Anne-Louise felt for her. “If it hadn’t been for your intervention, the prophecy wouldn’t have come true. Owen did save the world, because you were moved to help in order to save him.”