Authors: Kate Douglas
Crystalfire (32 page)
His eyes flashed red and he reached for the clouds, once again screaming that demonic chant. Taron shot a quick glance at Willow. She stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted, and he felt a change in pressure as she drew in massive amounts of energy—energy that she delivered straight to his blade.
CrystalFire practically vibrated in Taron’s grasp as Willow sent more power his way. They knew. Without saying a word to one another, Taron and Willow both knew.
Somehow Ed must have understood a sacrifice made for the good of all could not be used for evil. The demon raised his arms and called the lightning. The clouds boiled, lightning flashed, but it was Ed who stepped into the path of the bolt.
Willow was already in motion. Throwing herself into the blast, she reached for Ed even as she continued throwing energy to CrystalFire.
“No!”
Not Willow. Dear gods, not Willow!
Taron lunged forward with CrystalFire, shoving his blade straight into the shimmering bolt of energy as Ed stepped into the strike and Willow shoved him aside.
Not Willow. Dear gods, not Willow!
Taron lunged forward with CrystalFire, shoving his blade straight into the shimmering bolt of energy as Ed stepped into the strike and Willow shoved him aside.
In the final split second before impact, the demon must have realized what Ed planned. With a horrific scream, it burst out of the man’s body and went straight for Taron.
Taron’s blade, charged with Willow’s power and the power of the lightning, cut through the demon, slicing into the thick, oily mist, turning it to shards of something black and foul that burned with incandescent fire. The final flames turned to sparks in every color of the rainbow.
The loud crack of lightning and booming thunder ended as quickly as the lightning had struck and the night went deathly silent. The storm dissipated within seconds; the clouds scattered.
Taron turned away from the bits of ash and tiny sparks still fluttering to the ground. He saw Ed lying in the dirt a few yards away. He couldn’t tell if the man was dead or alive.
“Willow? Willow!” He screamed her name, but with the end of the storm, darkness descended on the mountainside. Frantic, Taron shouted at his sword. “CrystalFire. More light.”
The blade flashed and blue light spread out over the hillside. There, not far from Ed, something hidden in shadow. He raced across the rugged ground, spotted her hair, first. Long, straight blond hair, like a tangled halo of spun gold spilled all around her. She’d been thrown by the power of the blast and lay in the filthy slush of snow melted by lightning. Her face was unmarked, but a dark scorch ran from Willow’s left shoulder to her right thigh.
“No. Dear gods, no.” This couldn’t be. He wouldn’t let it be. Not Willow, but he fell to his knees beside her, touched his hands to her throat and felt for a pulse.
Nothing.
A cold fist tightened around his chest, encased his heart, stopped the breath in his lungs.
He couldn’t leave her here. Not lying in the wet and filthy snow. Carefully he slipped his hands beneath Willow’s lifeless body—that perfect woman’s body she’d been so proud of—and carried her to a small patch of relatively dry sand. He lay her down and knelt beside her. Brushed the long, sleek hair from her eyes and wondered where the curls had gone.
Where Bumper had gone? Did the dog’s spirit die with Willow’s? But how could Willow die? How could someone as filled with life, as full of dreams as Willow, ever die?
He stared at her for the longest time, unwilling to accept what was right there in front of him. That it was over. That Willow was over. He could talk his way into or out of just about anything, but there were no words for this. No words that could possibly describe the pain of losing what he’d only just found.
No words at all. Once again he slipped his hands beneath her body, lifted her in his arms and held her close against his chest. He kissed her lips. They were already cold. Unresponsive.
Proof she was truly gone. He settled her close with her head upon his shoulder and, oblivious to the temperatures falling steadily as the night wore on, Taron bowed his head and wept.
All was silent in the great plaza. Dax held Eddy while she cried, but she wept without sound, her loss so profound there was no way to express what she felt, what she’d seen. All that kept her from screaming was the strength of Dax’s arms, the power of his unwavering love.
They’d been blinded by the brilliance of the lightning, but it looked as if it had gone right through her father. Even if the lightning hadn’t killed him, there was no way his body could recover from the terrible ravages of the demon’s possession. Her father looked near death even before the strike. Lightning had delivered the killing blow.
The screen still showed the mountainside, bathed now in the light from CrystalFire. The sword lay on the ground where Taron had left it, but Taron was off to one side, cradling Willow’s still form. He sat on the ground, his body hunched protectively over hers as he quietly wept, poignantly lost in grief. Eddy’s dad’s twisted body was barely visible, lying in the shadows nearby.
The demon king was dead. They should be celebrating. There should be parades and cheering in the streets. Taron was a hero, but Willow was dead, and Dad ... all Eddy could feel was loss.
Artigos the Just knelt beside her. “Dry your eyes, my dear. We don’t know that your father is gone. Until we confirm his death, I choose to believe he lives. Crystal thinks, now the battle has ended, the portal might be open.” He glanced at Dax. “Bring Eddy. Her father will need his daughter. And Alton? Dear grandson ... I believe Taron will need his dearest friend.”
Alton was already standing and helping Ginny to her feet. Roland remained behind to keep order and explain to the populace more of the details of what had transpired over the past month, and what the outcome of this pivotal battle really meant to each of them as Lemurians. Eight of them—Crystal, Artigos, Dawson, Selyn, Alton, Ginny, Dax, and Eddy—walked down the long passage to the portal.
Somehow, all of the portals appeared to be functioning. All except the one to Abyss. It was not merely sealed shut—the wall was smooth, as if the portal had never existed. Eddy stared at it for a moment. She found it hard to believe that this battle was truly the end of it. The Dark Lord didn’t sound like one who gave in easily, no matter what fate decreed.
Feeling slightly nauseous, unable to truly comprehend how much they might have lost, but how very much those losses had gained, Eddy turned away from the sealed portal. Blinking back tears, she glanced up and realized the others were waiting on her. Clutching Dax’s hand, she took a deep breath and walked toward the gateway. Then she stepped through the portal, out onto the same snow-covered flank of Mount Shasta she’d just been watching on the crystal screen.
Blue-white swordlight illuminated the entire area. Eddy’s hand was over her mouth before she realized she’d stopped her own scream, but the scene was so much worse in real life. The rotten-egg stench of sulfur filled the air, and the harsh sound of a man weeping.
Swordlight cast everything in sharp relief—Willow’s grown-up body caught in Taron’s embrace, shattered and scorched boulders scattered all about, and there, not far from Taron and Willow, her father’s familiar figure, lying in the snow like a toy that has been cast aside.
Bloodied and broken, he lay still as death.
With Dax holding tightly to her hand, Eddy raced past Taron and Willow, praying to whatever gods might hear that her father still lived.
Chapter 25
Willow blinked. Black spots and flashes of light, the remnants of the lightning burst, still blinded her. It took a minute or two for her vision to clear. Something cold and wet nudged her fingers, forcing her to focus. She glanced down at Bumper, wriggling and bouncing in her own familiar doggy body.
Willow slipped out of the chair—
Chair? Where’d the chair come from?
—and knelt on the cold, marble floor. Her head was still reeling and spots still flashed in front of her eyes, but she held out her arms for the wriggling, bouncing bundle of curly-haired beast that almost knocked her over with typical boundless enthusiasm. “Bumper! How? What happened?”
Chair? Where’d the chair come from?
—and knelt on the cold, marble floor. Her head was still reeling and spots still flashed in front of her eyes, but she held out her arms for the wriggling, bouncing bundle of curly-haired beast that almost knocked her over with typical boundless enthusiasm. “Bumper! How? What happened?”
I’m me, I’m me, I’m a dog again. I love you Willow, but you’re no fun. You’re too much like a grown-up in that body. I love being me!
“I love it when you’re you, too, Bumper. But ... ?” She raised her head and choked back a gasp. She was kneeling somewhere without walls or boundaries of any kind. Kneeling on a slick marble floor that seemed to go on forever, beside a long table. Robed figures sat along each side and the one at the head was lost in a golden glow.
Swallowing, she shot a quick glance at Bumper.
Somehow I don’t think we’re on Mount Shasta anymore, are we?
Somehow I don’t think we’re on Mount Shasta anymore, are we?
Bumper flattened herself against the floor, ears down, nose against the deck, though she couldn’t seem to control that curly tail. It still thumped a staccato beat against the floor.
Uh, Willow? It’s sort of like ...
Uh, Willow? It’s sort of like ...
Don’t worry, sweetie. Good girl. Now stay.
She patted Bumper’s curly head, slowly stood up and forced the butterflies suddenly bursting to life in her belly to settle down. Remembering her manners, she bowed her head in a show of respect.
She patted Bumper’s curly head, slowly stood up and forced the butterflies suddenly bursting to life in her belly to settle down. Remembering her manners, she bowed her head in a show of respect.
She’d been here before, in what was truly another life, when she’d still been tiny and innocent to the world outside. She wasn’t all that innocent anymore, and these people owed her an explanation.
She folded her arms across her chest and stared pointedly at the glowing figure at the far end. And waited.
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once. “She’s certainly not the same wisp of swamp gas we recruited for this operation, is she?”
Soft laughter. Willow listened for a sense of ridicule, a feeling that they laughed at her, but it was nothing like that. Nothing at all.
She focused on the one at the end. She had no idea who he was, though he was obviously
somebody important
and this was certainly Eden, which meant ...
somebody important
and this was certainly Eden, which meant ...
Sighing, Willow accepted the truth she’d been trying to ignore—obviously, she’d died. And Bumper, too.
She glanced at the dog leaning against her leg with her typical doggy grin. Damn! She gazed once again at the robed figures. And waited.
Dear gods, she hoped the demon had died as well, that Taron and Ed survived. She hated to think she’d thrown away her shot at a real life for nothing. Really didn’t want to imagine eternity without Taron. Especially if they’d failed. She took a deep breath, let it out. “What happened?”
“More than we ever could have hoped for.”
The one at the end stood and walked around the long table. As he drew close, she saw he was a man—just a regular, albeit beautiful, man. He wasn’t at all scary. In fact, he sort of reminded her of Artigos the Just, with that same air of command that seemed to be inborn in some people.
At least he was smiling when he stopped in front of her. He leaned over and patted Bumper on the head, and, of course, the stupid dog rolled over to get her belly rubbed.
He laughed, knelt in front of Willow and did exactly what Bumper wanted and tickled his fingers over the dog’s pink tummy. Bumper sighed and her eyes slid closed. There was nothing she loved more than a good belly rub, something Willow had found horribly demeaning when she’d shared the dog’s body.
Didn’t Bumper have any pride at all?
The man stood, but he was still concentrating on Bumper. Then he passed his hand over the dog. She disappeared.
“Bumper!” Willow stared at the empty spot on the floor and glared at the man. “What did you do to Bumper? Where is she?”
There was a soft gasp from the others along the table. The man shook his head and smiled at Willow, but he held up one hand to still any further comments from the others. “She’s on the side of Mount Shasta, waking up and looking for Eddy. Don’t worry. She’ll find her in a moment.”
“Good.” Willow let out a jagged breath. “That’s good. She doesn’t deserve to die.”
“And you do?” He wasn’t smiling now. His face looked quite serious.
Shaking her head with complete conviction, Willow said, “No. I don’t deserve to die, either.”
He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her with the oddest little half smile on his face. “Why not?”
She shrugged and wondered why he found her so funny. “I don’t want to make Taron grieve, and he will. He says he loves me, and I believe him. He would never lie. Besides, I love him. That’s the most important reason, because he’s a good man and he deserves to be happy. I can make him happy. I was doing a good job of it, and I’d really hate to think that stupid fortune teller was right.”
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. “I didn’t ask for any of this, but I still did everything I could to help Dax when I was a sprite, I did my best when I was stuck inside Bumper, and when I was a woman, I gave everything I had to help Taron. I always did the best I could.”
He didn’t say a word. Just looked at her as if he was really listening, but then she remembered the most important thing, even more than how she felt about Taron and what he thought of her. “Did we win? Is the demon gone?”
He slowly nodded his head. “He is gone. Your sacrifice and Ed’s, Taron’s bravery, and even CrystalFire’s understanding and free admission of his own flaws—all of this together was more than evil could overcome. The good in all of you definitely outweighed the evil in the dark one. The one who would be the demon king is gone forever. The Dark Lord survives, but his existence—like mine—keeps the balance intact.”
She gave a short, sharp jerk of her head. “Good. That’s good. Demonkind was growing too powerful. It had to be stopped.”
“It did. Without you, Willow of the swamp, demonkind might easily have won. Those seated at this table, the ones judging you ...” He waved his hand to encompass the robed men, “might have been demons instead of a council of citizens of Eden.”
Willow hugged herself, suddenly chilled. They’d come so close to failure. But what now? They were judging her? Crap. “What of me?” she asked, wondering if it really mattered without Taron. “What will you do with me?”
She really, really didn’t want to go back to the swamp. In fact, there was only one place she wanted to be, but it was too late for that. She’d already died.
“That is a big question. What do we do with you?” He was smiling at her, so it couldn’t be all bad. “We are willing to offer you a spot in Paradise, not as you were, but as you are now.”
She thought about that, thought about something Dax had said when he’d turned down that same offer. He said he’d found his paradise with Eddy. He was so right. She thought of the way she’d felt in Taron’s arms. Even something as simple as sitting across the table from him, sharing a meal, had been its own kind of paradise.
“With all due regards, sir, eternity in Paradise without Taron would be the same as condemning me to another death.”
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned at the men seated along the table. “What did I say?”
She heard a few grumbles and what even sounded like a snort of laughter. Frowning, Willow glared at the one in front of her. “What?”
“A little bet, my dear. For what it’s worth, I won.” He reached out then and ran his fingers over her long
straight
hair. “You shall have your wish, on one condition.”
straight
hair. “You shall have your wish, on one condition.”
Her wish? She hadn’t actually wished for anything, but if he could read what was in her heart, then ... “What? What kind of condition?”
“That you become one of our small band of immortal demonslayers, charged with protecting all worlds from the threat of demonkind. The one who would be the demon king is gone, but another will rise in his place. And if that one is vanquished, another will rise, and then another. It is the way of things, to constantly test that precarious balance holding all worlds in a state of equilibrium. With your addition to this surprisingly resilient and very unexpected band of demonslayers, that equilibrium might actually be maintained.
“I want you to agree to be one of our soldiers on the front lines, to remain vigilant always.”
He seemed to waver in place, and it took Willow a moment to realize she was seeing him through her tears. “I accept.” She grabbed his hands and squeezed them in hers, and there was so much joy in her heart that she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.
The last thing she saw was his somewhat stunned smile as he pressed a hand to cover the kiss. Then she heard laughter and what sounded like a sigh of relief from those at the long table.
But it drifted away until not even the echo remained, and she was spinning—spinning through night and day and night again, through a rainbow of colors and a shimmering cloud of blue sparkles.
Spinning until she’d lost all sense of up or down, left or right, night or day. The only thing familiar was the steady beat of a heart, the powerful crush of arms holding her close, the salty taste of tears on her lips.
Blinking slowly, she opened her eyes. Raised her hand, touched her palm to Taron’s tear-streaked face, and said the first thing that came to her.
“I’m back,” she whispered. “And they’re letting me keep the big girl body.”
Eddy knelt beside her poor father’s battered body. He looked as if he’d shrunk, as if the strong, healthy man she’d hugged just days ago had aged by dozens of years. She touched her fingers to his throat and felt the slightest fluttering pulse, but she held them there a moment longer. Her hands shook so badly, she had to be sure it wasn’t her own trembling she felt.
Then his eyes blinked, fluttered a moment and stayed open. His lips parted. Voice dry and raspy, he whispered, “Eddy?”
She could barely hear him, but there was no denying he was alive. “Dad? Daddy!” She turned frantically to call for help, and Dax was right there beside her. “He needs help. Who ... ?”
Crystal knelt on Ed’s other side, going down on her knees in the filthy snow, regardless of the pristine white gown she wore. “Let me,” she said, lightly holding her fingertips to Ed’s temples.
Eddy wrapped her fingers around her father’s. His were limp and barely responsive, but she felt the slightest pressure as he tried to return her squeeze. She sat back and leaned against Dax. His left arm was like a steel band around her waist, keeping her close.
Light flashed off to their left. Eddy flinched, then stared, blinking, as Mari and Darius suddenly strode across the rocky ground. Mari knelt beside Ed. “We just got back. We’ve been trapped over at the coast for the past few days, but as we drove in, we could see the battle from town. Lightning flashing, huge flares of fire in the sky. It looked like the volcano had erupted, there was so much going on up here. We knew it had to be one hell of a fight. Is he ... ?”
Crystal answered. “The demon king is dead, but Eddy’s father is alive. We have to get him to Lemuria. Our healers can help him.” She raised her head. “Artigos? Over here, my love. Get Dawson. We need him, too.”
Within seconds Artigos and Dawson were kneeling next to Ed. Daws checked his pulse and nodded to Eddy. “We have to hurry. He’s terribly dehydrated. Crystal? M’lord? Can your healers help with injuries like this?”
Artigos was the one to slip his hands beneath Ed’s fragile body and carefully lift him. “They can. But we’ll have to hurry. We’ve got to clear the area. Darius said there are townspeople heading this way. The battle was visible to everyone around. We all have to get out of here before others arrive.”
Holding Ed against his chest, Artigos headed toward the portal with Crystal and Dawson beside him. Selyn and Ginny waited by the gateway, ready to slip back into the vortex.
Eddy and Dax rushed after them, until two sounds caught Eddy’s attention—the steady drone of a helicopter drawing close, and the sharp yip of a dog.
One particular dog. “Bumper? Where are you, girl?”
She turned around just in time to kneel down and catch the furry body as Bumper launched herself into Eddy’s arms.
Laughing, crying, she stood up, still hanging on to a wriggling, licking, yipping Bumper.
“Hurry.” Dax grabbed her elbow and rushed her toward the portal. The others had gone through already. Mari and Darius were just ahead of them. The only ones left on the mountain were Taron, Alton, and Willow.
“Go on with the others. I’ll get them.” Dax planted a fast, hard kiss on her mouth. Eddy hung on to the wriggling dog. The sound of the chopper drew closer as she ducked through the portal and followed her father and the others into the vortex.
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