by Jordi Burton
“Let me go, you witch!” he shouted.
“Go, Anastasia!” Calla called. “Find the others. Get out of here.”
Anastasia hesitated. “Calla…”
“Go! I’ll hold him here!”
As much as it pained Anastasia to leave, she knew this was the only chance they’d have to keep the pendant away from Joey. With a last reassuring look at Calla, she ran the way her mother had gone.
At the end of the library, Anastasia caught up with her family. The first rays of dawn pierced the darkness. Vlad would be in danger outside, and Ostana would be shifting back. They needed to go as soon as possible. She only hoped Calla could hold Joey until she and the other Ancients could bring them all home.
“I got the ingredients for a portal,” Bale said. “But it’s useless now, without Calla.”
Anastasia’s eyed widened. “No. It’s not.”
She led them from the library, descending to the battlefield. Lili, Ayvery, and Alviva were cleaning off their weapons together, while Vlad went to each fallen body and checked they were really dead.
“Joey!” Anastasia called.
He bounded over to them, looking pleased that he’d managed to help during the battle. When he saw Bale holding a dead bird and rat, he paled. Anastasia ignored his expression and started drawing a circle in the dirt near the roots of the tree.
“What is all this?” he asked.
Graham flipped through Calla’s grimoire until he found the page for a portal spell. “Just read this when we tell you.”
“I—I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You’re the grandson of the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms,” said Anastasia. “You can do it.”
As the sun started to rise over the horizon, Anastasia saw Ostana collapse through the trees. Ayvery and Alviva ran over and dragged Ostana into a pentagram. Lili shielded Vlad with a cloak, pulling him into a pentagram as well. Once Bale and Graham had the ingredients ready for the spell, the rest of them all stepped into pentagrams in the circle.
“Now!” yelled Graham.
Joey started to read, in a halting, unsure voice. “Tanu lanu l’nasoh, alilah g’dolah, l’matzo et eleh shanu m’chafashím!”
Wind tore through the clearing and then petered out. Opening her eyes, Anastasia saw they were still standing in the clearing in the fairy kingdom. Joey didn’t have a good enough grasp on his magic to transport them. They were stuck.
Turning back to the tree castle, Anastasia only hoped Calla’s spell would hold.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
C hris looked down at the crystal-clear waters in Eorrigon gol Peylee. He could see himself reflected in the smooth surface, for the first time in a little over six months. Somehow, he seemed older, with a scruffy beard and unkempt hair. But it was his eyes that did it really; they held a hardened sort of cynicism that hadn’t been there before.
Turning away from the water, he looked back at where Dani sat, seemingly meditating, beneath a large palm tree. A few hornless cows spotted the mossy banks behind them, staring at them with strangely human eyes.
“It isn’t working,” said Dani.
Mira frowned. “Are you concentrating?”
“Obviously.”
A splash behind Chris drew his attention. There, on a sandbar out in the water, sat a handful of mermaids. They had long, tangled green hair, and their bodies were covered entirely in scales, but they were still breathtakingly beautiful. Chris stared at them as they started to sing, a haunting, lilting melody that somehow sounded vaguely familiar. He listened for a moment, watching as the mermaids brushed out their hair.
A moment later, Dani and Mira ran across the beach and stepped into the water. They, too, were watching the mermaids.
“What are you doing?” Chris asked.
Neither responded.
A few feet from the sandbar, mermen treaded water. They were uglier than their female counterparts, with mossy teeth, beady, pig-like eyes, red noses, stubby, fin-like arms, and small, red ornamental hats.
“Dani!” Chris called.
But she hadn’t seemed to hear him. She just pushed through the water, swimming towards the mermaids.
Chris could feel the malice radiating off of the mermaids. They weren’t just there to entertain, they were there to harm. Steeling himself, he jumped into the water after them. Grabbing Mira’s and Dani’s wrists, he dragged them back towards the beach. The mermaids’ song grew louder; Dani and Mira struggled against Chris’ grip, trying to break free.
“It’s so beautiful!” cried Dani.
Grabbing the girls around the waist, Chris managed to bring them ashore. Somehow, it seemed like the mermaids’ song had possessed them. He needed to break it, or else they were never getting out of here.
As he looked around the beach for something to help them, he saw a couple of the hornless cows head towards the water. Moments later, they’d shifted into mermaids; they joined the others on the sandbar, adding to the haunting song. Dani and Mira redoubled their efforts, wrenching against Chris’ grip.
“Gods and Angels forgive me,” he murmured, before he hit them both on the temple with the butt of his baton, knocking them unconscious.
Once the mermaids realized their song was falling on deaf ears, they fell back into the water. Chris sat back on the sand, blowing out a breath. It seemed like everything in this Old World was out to kill them. They needed to get the pendants and get out of there, as quickly as possible; which led him to thoughts of the Ancients, and how he apparently was one. It was strange to think that he had some incredible power that he’d never known. And, to think, he’d once been unsure of the Gods and Angels’ decision to make him a warrior.
But what could he do now? They needed to get the pendants, and Dani and Mira were both unconscious. Besides, Isidora had told them that this was the location of Dani’s pendant, not Chris’. He’d only come along as protection.
Getting to his feet, he pulled his dagger from his belt and started to dig beneath the palm tree. Methodically, he shoved the dagger into the ground and pulled it out, over and over, marveling at how the grains of sand cascaded over each other. After not seeing for so long, he took pleasure in the little things, the way of nature.
Chris shed his vest and rolled the sleeves of his tunic, digging. He was nearly up to his shoulders, and parched and sweaty, but he kept digging.
When the sun was high in the sky, and blisters were forming on the palm of his hands, Chris struck something hard. He brushed away some sand with his hands, and tried to work his dagger around the edges; there was some kind of box around the pendant.
He pushed his dagger down again, and wind exploded forth, throwing him back across the beach. Bright orange light engulfed the beach, and Chris felt like he was being carried up into a tornado. He shielded his eyes as sand whipped across his skin. Peering through squinted eyes, he saw Isidora, Hughie, and the others. They were translucent, like Anastasia said the Ancients had been in her vision from the pentagram.
They all turned to look at him, shielding their eyes. As the wind picked up, and the light brightened, Chris felt himself drawn forward. Beside him, Dani got to her feet and joined him.
Grasping hands, they and the other Ancients began to chant. “Cuirimid ar ais chugainn a lorgfaimid, ionas go bhféadfaimis ár gcumhacht a aisghabháil!”
The sand swirled around them, creating a wall between them and the rest of the beach. Through it all, Chris could see the other Ancients, wrapped in similar lights and walls of dirt or leaves. They chanted louder and louder, until a crack sounded.
The earth beneath Chris’ and Dani’s feet opened up, and Dani’s pendant rose through the air. Slowly, she reached out to grasp the pendant. As soon as the citrine-colored moonstone touched her fingers, she rose into the air, cocooned in bright orange light. Chris shielded his eyes and looked away, struggling to stay on his feet.
All at once, the light and wind faded. Straightening, Chris looked over at Dani. As sh
e lowered to the ground, she looked like a completely different person. She was dressed in a flowing orange dress and floor-length shawl, her swan sigil emblazoned on her chest. Her eyes, once hazel like William’s, were now the same deep orange shade as the pendant around her neck. As he looked at her, he had the distinct urge to bow.
“Dani?” he breathed.
She turned her fiery eyes on him. “I am Cordia.”
She raised her hands; they were glowing with bright orange magic. A moment later, a number of portal-like doorways opened. Chris had never seen so many together at once.
The other Ancients strode through, looking much like Dani. They all crackled with power, their pendants at their throats. The other warriors stumbled through the portals after them, awe plain on their features.
The Fairy Queen stepped forward, looking like one of the Angels. She held out a rich black moonstone pendant. “Time to Awaken, brother.”
“I thought the Vatis had to awaken us,” he said, suddenly fearful.
“She will connect us to our mortal bodies.”
Gingerly, Chris reached out to take the black moonstone. As soon as his fingers touched the stone, he felt a rush of power. Wind wrapped around him, warm and comforting. What felt like a mere fraction of a second later, he felt himself lower to the ground. But when he opened his eyes, he found that he was looking through his own eyes as though a stranger. There was a disconnect, like he wasn’t in charge of his body any longer.
He heard himself say, “Let us return to Vatis.”
But he hadn’t told himself to speak, or to move. Then he realized this must’ve been what the Queen meant. The Ancients had taken over their bodies. And it was up to Anastasia to unite them both together. Until then, he supposed he was just along for the ride.
Dani opened another portal and they all strode through. They entered the fairy kingdom and shock went through Chris as he saw bodies everywhere. Had there been a battle? Was Anastasia alright?
“Gods and Angels,” Aelnold breathed.
Gerrard raced forward. “Find the royal family!”
As the others ran into the trees, the Ancients remained behind in the clearing. As his body turned towards them, Chris studied them. They all had different colored pendants, the same shade as their ancient-looking clothing. He wondered what he looked like. Though, he supposed, given that his moonstone was black, he was dressed in all black.
“Vatis,” said the Fairy Queen.
They all turned to see Anastasia striding towards them. Chris watched her as she took in their appearances, awe flashing across her face. He was surprised to realize he couldn’t feel her emotions anymore.
“Time to Awaken, sister.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
A nastasia stared up at the Ancients. They were beautiful, just as they had been in the realm of the Gods and Angels, when she’d taken the List from Chris. They each wore their pendants, shimmering in the autumn sunlight.
“We cannot stay like this much longer,” said Dani. “Without being anchored to our mortal bodies.”
Anastasia reached out to take the Fairy Queen’s hand, to Awaken, but before she could, an explosion shook the trees. Joey. He’d broken free of Calla’s circle. It had held him for a day, enough time for them to evacuate the city, but not enough for them to come up with a concrete plan of how to stop him. Thank the Gods and Angels the Ancients had arrived.
A second explosion threw Anastasia back from the Fairy Queen. The Ancients stumbled, flickering between their ethereal forms and their mortal ones.
“Anastasia!” William shouted, running towards her. “We need to go!”
Suddenly, they were surrounded. Warriors spilled into the clearing, and Anastasia had but a moment to wonder at where they came from, before she leapt into battle. Grabbing her dagger, she launched herself at the nearest warrior.
All around her, her friends fought. Lili launched herself from the tree, brandishing her bow and arrows. Ayvery, Alviva, and Gerrard ran in from the ground, felling warriors with their maces. Hayde, Durse, and Ryke flew through the air, holding battle axes, while the Ros brothers ran through the fray with swords. Mira and Balan threw potions through the air, shouting. They all wordlessly protected the Ancients, who were still flickering between themselves and their mortal bodies. They staggered back and forth; Anastasia knew she needed to act quickly.
Felling the warrior she fought, she threw herself into the sky. Three warriors followed, hot on her trail. She blocked their swords, tucking her wings close to her and rolling through the air as arrows barraged them. Unfurling her wings, she rose higher, flying towards the warriors from above. Catching one of the men unawares, she drove her dagger into his neck. Pushing off from him, she grabbed another warrior by the neck and wrangled him to the ground.
There, they grappled, the hilt of his sword catching her in the temple. She staggered back, seeing stars. The warrior ran at her. She raised her dagger at the last moment, spearing him through the chest. As he fell, she reared her arm back and launched her dagger. It tore through the third warrior’s wings, forcing her to the ground.
Grabbing her dagger, she turned and shoved it through the warrior’s chest. As she yanked it free, she leapt at a sorcerer. Coming up behind him, she drew her dagger across his throat. When he fell to his knees, she grabbed his belt from his hips.
Tying his vials to her own hips, she sprinted clear of the melee. Drawing a vial, she threw it as hard as she could and shouted, “L’fotzatz!”
Fire exploded, flinging people through the air. Grinning, she ran back into the fray. The battle raged on in a shower of explosions and blades, screams and battle cries renting the air. The cold heat of battle washed over Anastasia, forcing her forward. Blood splattered across her face, her clothes, and made the ground slick. And yet, her head was perfectly clear. She sighted her targets and took them down, avoiding their weapons as best she could.
But Joey’s forces were immense. They drove her friends back to the oak trees, despite their valiant efforts. Concern flashed through Anastasia as she felt bark at her back. There was nowhere left for them to go, nowhere left to protect the Ancients.
She renewed her efforts, felling anyone that neared the tree’s entrance. But then, an icy stillness overcame her. She glanced down to see thick black smoke winding up her legs. She jerked against it but froze when she saw Joey striding towards her. He was haggard, thin, his skin sallow, his eyes black as night. This was evil Joey, the part of him that was Shadow and Nadmilise.
He bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Anastasia.”
He stalked towards her, his smoky magic holding her in place. She stared over his shoulder, watching as her family filtered into the clearing.
“You should know that nothing can hold me, cousin.”
She glared at him. “It worked well enough.”
In one fluid motion, he wrapped his hand around her neck and lifted her. Her feet dangled off the ground. Turning, he slammed her into the ground, driving the air from her lungs. She gasped out a laugh, staring up at him.
The look in his dark eyes told her that in that moment, he was ready to kill her. He flew forward on his obsidian wings and drove his fist into her face. Pain erupted through her body, but she just kept laughing at him. All around her, her friends battled, holding off Joey’s forces. She just needed to hold out a little longer, till everyone was ready. She could do it. The Gods and Angels had named her a warrior, after all.
A scream tore through the air. A few feet away, Isidora—now in her mortal form—threw her arms wide. Lightning shot down from the sky and struck Isidora full in the chest. She exploded with electricity, her eyes glowing with power. Everyone around her halted, staring as she moved through the clearing. Joey paused, mid-punch, looking up at her.
“Get away from her,” Isidora growled.
Clenching her fists, she raised her hands to the sky. Lightning exploded from her palms. Anastasia looked at her mother. “Now!”
Anarose tore the
pendant from her neck and threw it. Just as Anastasia’s fingers wrapped around it, Isidora’s lightning struck. Anastasia screamed, feeling like her body was being torn apart from the inside out. But then, an intense warmth cocooned her. She rose into the air, wrapped in bright violet light. When she opened her eyes, she stood, flushed with power, the power of the Vatis.
Around the clearing, the other Ancients stood, fully Awakened. Joey looked between them, his face screwed into a grimace. His warriors stood, hesitating, quite unsure of what to do with themselves. Anastasia couldn’t blame them; she was sure they looked quite imposing. But all she could think of was the power flooding through her veins. When she raised her hands, they were glowing with pale violet magic. She felt as she did when the Angel Razibelle had taken over her body, back in the Forest of Luas all those months ago. Except, now she was in control.
“Anastasia!” Dani shouted. “Do it now!”
Her body moved of its own volition, holding her hands out towards Chris and Dani. The other Ancients reached for each other, a bright white light stretching between them.
As one, they drove their hands into the ground, power gushing from their palms. The world trembled around them, forest trees falling around them as wind tore at them. Light surged from their bodies, bathing everything in white.
Anastasia felt like she was falling. She wasn’t sure for how long, but after a time, she opened her eyes. A familiar hall solidified around her, one with high windows and a pair of carved wooden thrones. As she looked around, she realized she stood in the center of the throne room in Sehir. Tears welled in her eyes. They’d done it. They’d returned home!
A chuckle sounded behind her. She whirled around to see Joey seated on her mother’s throne. “So, you think you’ve won.”
She glared at him. “I have won.”
“Oh, really?”
He held up a hand. Her pendant hung from his fingers, glittering in the sunlight. Anastasia gasped, reaching for her throat. But her neck was bare.
