by Tanya Huff
Then, the Dark Adept looked past Evan, met Roland’s eyes, and smiled. You are mine, said the smile. You know it, and I know it. And when this is all over, I will claim you.
Roland’s fingers faltered. He forgot the chords. He forgot the music. He forget everything but the Darkness. He began to tremble uncontrollably.
“Roland.” Rebecca grabbed his shoulder, her fingers digging deep into the muscles, forcing his awareness away from the Dark Adept although he still heard her words down the length of a long tunnel. “Evan won’t let him hurt you.”
Evan.
If he’s willing to die for my world, I can damn well sing for it.
His fingers found the chords again. He began the first chorus.
By the end of the second line, the Dark Adept’s complacent smile had slipped.
At the end of the third, he snarled and attacked.
The Light rose up to block him.
“Fireworks reported in the vicinity of King’s College Circle. 5234, can you respond?”
PC Patton glared at the radio. “The streets have gone crazy and they want us to check on fireworks?” They’d spent the last hour clearing up a near riot at Yonge and Bloor.
PC Brooks shrugged and reached for the microphone. “Remember what happened the last time someone reported fireworks in the Circle.” He flipped the switch. “5234 responding. We going in alone?”
“All other units are currently occupied, but backup will be available if requested.”
“Good. We’re going in alone.” PC Patton forced the car, steering mechanism protesting, around a tight U-turn and pushed the gas to the floor. “We’ve got first shot at that bastard if he’s back.”
“And we’ll deal with him by the book, Mary Margaret,” her partner said mildly.
She bared her teeth in what might have been a smile. “I’ll make him eat the fucking book.”
Evan staggered backward under a vicious strike but stopped the blow before it could get through to Roland. Roland did the only thing he could; he trusted in Evan’s strength and kept singing. He didn’t know if the Goddess was listening but he could feel the power building and every hair on his body stood on end. As Evan blocked another arc of black energy that left his right arm hanging useless at his side, Roland began the first verse.
“Eastern wind blow clear, blow clean,
Cleanse my body of its pain,
Cleanse my mind of what I’ve seen,
Cleanse my honor of its stain.”
Although he’d been expecting something to happen, the touch of the wind on his left cheek almost made him miss a chord change. He turned slightly into it so he could match what the last two lines would bring. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Dark Adept snarl, but neither the snarl nor the attack that followed could distract him now that the east wind had swept the tangles from his mind. He was still terrified but that didn’t seem to matter anymore.
“Maid whose love has never ceased
Bring me healing from the East.”
The Dark Adept howled.
Roland ignored him. For the east wind now brought an answer. Her hair streaming out about her, clad in a short white tunic, Daru stood just in front of Roland and slightly to the right. She faced the Darkness, her hands curled into fists at her sides. Even from the back, she didn’t look like the Daru he’d known, for the power in the song was a pale copy of the power in her.
“Southern wind blow hot, blow hard,
Fan my courage to a flame,
Southern wind be guide and guard,
Add your bravery to my name.
Let my will and yours be twinned,
Warrior of the Southern wind.”
And the wind that came out of the south, smelling of steel and blood, dressed Daru in golden armor and hung a mighty sword at her side.
Evan collapsed to one knee, but just in time threw his good arm up to tangle the black whip in his bracelets. Very faintly over the music came his cry of pain.
“Western wind blow stark, blow strong,
Grant me arm and mind of steel
On a road both hard and long.
Mother, hear me where I kneel.
Let no weakness on my quest
Hinder me, wind of the West.”
The wind now blew against his right cheek and Rebecca lifted her hand from his shoulder. As she walked past him to stand beside Daru, Roland’s mind worked furiously, but no coherent thought managed to make its way out of the shock.
Rebecca?
And the weirdest thing about it was that while Daru had obviously taken on aspects of the Goddess, Rebecca looked just the same. Tangled curls, freckles, big orange sweater.
So maybe the Goddess has been with her all along, the small voice in Roland’s head suggested.
Roland refused to deal with that.
Evan’s head snapped back and his mouth hung open as he fought for breath, but somehow he kept the Darkness in its place. Light drained from a dozen wounds.
Even before he began the last verse a chill traveled the length of Roland’s spine. Internal or external, he wasn’t sure. His back was to the north.
“Northern wind blow cruel, blow cold,
Sheathe my aching heart in ice,
Armor round my soul enfold.
Crone, I need not call you twice.
To my foes bring cold of death!
Chill me, North wind’s frozen breath.”
Her black robes whipping about her in the freezing wind, Mrs. Ruth suddenly stood next to Rebecca. She no longer looked like a fat old lady, although she was still that. She no longer looked harmless.
The force of the blow lifted Evan into the air, where he writhed for an instant before falling to the ground.
And Darkness lost sight of the larger battle in its need to destroy what remained of this bit of Light.
Roland’s chin came up and his eyes blazed as he gave the last chorus everything he had, throwing the song as a shield over Evan.
“Wind’s four quarters, air and fire
Earth and water, hear my desire
Grant my plea who stands alone—
Maiden-warrior, Mother, and Crone.”
As the last note died away into silence, the Goddess spoke; one voice through the three mouths of her trinity.
“It is done.”
The Dark Adept, his hand still raised to deliver the final blow to the Light, laughed for the clocks had begun to ring midnight.
“Too late,” he said.
And the Gate opened.
“Holy Mary Mother of God, Blessed Jesus, and all the saints, what the fuck is that?” PC Patton slammed her foot down on the brake and the patrol car screamed sideways across King’s College Circle until the tires of the passenger side snugged up against the curb.
She let the engine die and sat staring out the window, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.
The siren wailed for a second after the engine had quieted. PC Brooks leaned forward and switched it off. It was unlikely that anyone on the common heard.
A slab of Darkness twenty feet square stood in the center of the common, a slab so impermeable the mind insisted it was solid even when confronted with the evidence that it was not. From out of it, formed of Darkness and shaped by it, came a creature out of an addict’s nightmare. As it stepped free, it rose up on powerful hind legs, its scaled body gleaming dully black, and raked the air with massive furred paws. Great curved talons shredded the night and each of its seven heads opened a fanged mouth and roared.
“They’re shooting a movie here tonight, right?”
“I don’t think so, Mary Margaret.”
Beside it stood a man in black; at his feet lay a crumpled figure.
“That’s him! The guy in the sketch! The bastard who’s been carving up the city!”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure!”
Facing it were three women; one in golden armor, one in long black robes, and one in a big orange sweater. They look
More afraid than she’d ever been in her life, PC Patton stepped out of the car and walked around it to stand by her partner’s door. Slowly he got out to join her.
“Do we call for backup?” he asked, his hand plucking at his holster.
“No.”
“Then what do we do?”
She looked from the beast to the man to the women and frowned. Something big was going down, something … She looked at the women again and chewed her lip. “We wait,” she said at last.
“Oh, shit!” Roland took an involuntary step back as the seven heads shrieked.
Mrs. Ruth muttered speculatively, Rebecca sighed, and Daru loosened her sword in its sheath.
The Dark Adept shook his head, stroking the beast lightly on one obsidian flank. “Kill it,” he taunted the Maiden. “Destroy it. But the Darkness will continue to come and sooner or later you will fall and the body you wear will be killed. Without you, the rest of the One in Three is nothing.” His smile was satiated as he rubbed himself up against an enormous haunch. “And you cannot close the gate, for blood was spilled to open it.”
“What?” Roland so far forgot himself that he stepped forward again. “What does he mean, you can’t close the gate? That’s what you’re here for!”
The three bodies of the Goddess turned and again three spoke as one.
“Blood is needed to cancel blood.”
The Crone continued alone. “An unwilling sacrifice opened this gate, Bard. It will take a willing one to close it.”
The seven heads of the beast roared again.
And Roland understood.
He was all they had.
I don’t want to die.
He wet his lips and very, very carefully laid Patience on the grass.
I don’t want to die.
The first step was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. The second and third were no easier.
You’ll probably never know this, Uncle Tony, but I’m seeing a job through to the end.
He moved between Rebecca and Mrs. Ruth. Between the Mother and the Crone.
Please, don’t let it hurt too much.
Then something small and heavy darted through his legs. He staggered, recovered, and saw Tom launch himself into the air, hissing and spitting.
The great front paws of the beast dragged Tom off a head that now glared from only one eye and with a single, easy motion ripped the cat in two. As the blood splashed on the ground, the Goddess cried, “Done!”
And the Dark Gate disappeared.
“No!” screamed the Dark Adept. “It was just a cat!”
The Goddess smiled and the Dark Adept quailed before her. “There’s no such thing,” she said, “as just a cat.”
In one fluid motion, Daru unsheathed her sword and charged, the great golden blade whistling around her head in a glittering arc.
The battle happened too quickly for Roland to follow and very little of the noise and confusion of actual blows struck by either side penetrated past the knowledge that he still lived. He picked up Patience and held her tightly, as if the familiar feel of the guitar could convince him of his continuing reality.
The beast had only two heads remaining when it finally fell. It thrashed once and faded from sight, leaving behind a stain on the grass and a stench that lingered until the east wind blew it away. The Maiden stood in the center of the stain, leaning on her sword, the golden armor dripping with dark fluids. Her teeth were bared and her eyes blazed. She threw back her head and laughed.
The Dark Adept began to back away, his entire body twisted with panic. With his eyes locked on the Goddess, he couldn’t watch the ground and when his heels slammed into Evan’s side, he fell. For an instant they lay face to face, the Dark Adept and the Light, then Evan, who had lain there conserving the very little strength he had left, drove a small dagger of Light into the heart of Darkness.
The Dark Adept wailed, and died.
Roland never saw Rebecca move. One moment she stood by the Crone, the next she knelt by Evan, his broken body gathered up in her arms.
His head lolled against her shoulder and although he tried, he couldn’t raise his hand to touch her cheek. “Forgive me, Lady.” His velvet voice had been broken as well. “I was blind.”
She stroked his hair. “There is nothing to forgive.”
He sighed, fighting the pain for a few seconds more of life. “I’m glad,” his eyes found hers, “you’re here at the end.”
“What end?” She leaned forward and kissed a pain line from his brow. “There are no ends, only beginnings. The Circle always comes around.”
He managed a weak grin. “Fortune cookie platitudes,” he whispered.
The Mother smiled and the world sang in response.
“Perhaps,” she said.
Tears streaming unheeded down his cheeks, Roland felt his heart start beating again. I should have known she wouldn’t let him die. And when a moment later Evan stood before him, holding open his arms, Roland went to him and held him with everything he had left.
“I thought you were dead,” he sobbed into the warmth of Evan’s shoulder.
“I thought I was, too,” Evan answered into his hair. “And then I thought you were.”
“He didn’t even like me.”
Evan understood. “Who can say with cats? We will honor his memory, for he was a mighty warrior against the Darkness. But it’s over now. We won.”
“Over?” Roland pulled back a little to look into Evan’s eyes. “Over?”
The Adept nodded.
“Over,” Roland said yet again. Then reaction set in and his knees gave out.
Evan held him until he steadied.
“We won.”
Smiling, Evan nodded.
“Then the world is balanced again?”
“No.” The Crone stood before them. “The world will not be balanced until the Light returns to his place.”
Evan gave Roland’s shoulders one last squeeze then released him and moved to Rebecca where he dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “I would not presume to ask this, Lady, save that I gave my word to another. Would you come with me when I go?”
Roland felt as flummoxed as Evan looked when the Goddess answered, the mouths of all three women moving with the words.
“Yes. For it will right a grievous wrong.”
The Crone actually laughed at their expressions and, as Rebecca pulled Evan to his feet, said, “I suppose you want an explanation.”
Evan seemed incapable of speech, so Roland forced out a single word. “Please.” And, with a shudder, he hoped that it would not draw the Goddess’ attention to him.
To his relief, the Crone alone began to speak. Bad enough in itself but the parts were not nearly as overwhelming as the whole.
“Only the Goddess is eternal. These bodies we wear are as mortal as any born of woman. When they die, the aspect they contain moves on. When the body of the Mother dies, the aspect moves instantly to a vessel that has just begun to menstruate. The last time this happened, it coincided with the accident that killed Rebecca’s parents. The trauma brought on Rebecca’s blood, the Mother needed a vessel … At the instant of possession the aspect is operant and the Mother is a healer. So she healed.
“Had the accident happened a week earlier, Rebecca would have died, never knowing the touch of the Goddess. Had the accident happened a week later, Rebecca would have died and the Mother would have moved to the next vessel in line. Because the accident happened at the exact moment it did,” the Crone spread her arms and the sleeves of her robe flapped in the sudden chill wind like the wings of a great black crow, “Rebecca lived and the Mother was trapped in a flawed vessel, one that could neither properly contain her nor release her.”
“We were drawn to her,” the Maiden spoke for the first time, “to protect her.”
Again the three gave voice as one.
“I am the fulcrum on which the balance depends.”
Roland made a triangle with his hands, then crumpled one corner.
“That’s it exactly,” agreed the Crone. She turned to Evan. “If you take the vessel with you, the Mother will be free to move on and it will not be so easy for the balance to be disturbed again.”
And if the Mother moves on, Roland thought, how much of Rebecca will be left?
Evan didn’t seem to have any doubts. “Will you come, Lady?” he asked again, but this time for himself, not for a promise.
Rebecca nodded, eyes shining. “Yes.”
“Done!” said the Goddess and a shimmering curtain appeared in the air. “Return to the Light with our blessing.”
“Wait!” Rebecca pulled out of Evan’s grasp and spread her arms. The mangled bits that were Tom came together until a pale gray tabby with a proud white tip to his tail lay on the grass. She knelt by his side and stroked the length of his body. “Good-bye, dear friend, I’ll never forget you.” A silver tear splashed against the soft fur, then she held out her hands and the cat sank into the earth. “Journey safely until you find fat mice and thick cream and a loving hand always willing to scratch behind your ears.”
Roland wiped his eyes and sniffed. You don’t even like cats, he reminded himself, but the old argument had lost its force.
Rebecca took his head between her hands and pulled it down to kiss his brow. “My mark is on you,” she said, “my protection and my love.”
This is a Goddess, said the small voice in Roland’s head.
This is Rebecca, Roland told it.
He hugged her tightly. “Be happy, kiddo.”
“You, too, Roland. I think you’ve found your music now.”
“I think so, too, kiddo.”
She pulled the key to her apartment out of the front pocket of her jeans and handed it to him. “Will you take care of my plants?”
“Sure thing.”
“And see the littles get their milk?”
“A bowl every night,” he swore.
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