by P. C. Cast
Stark’s arrow caught Neferet in the chest, exactly where his arrow—in another world and another time—had caught Stevie Rae. Neferet dropped to the ground, clutching the quill that decorated her chest as blood gushed from her body and covered the ground. I knew it wasn’t fatal—just as Stevie Rae’s injury hadn’t been—but Neferet had no way of knowing that. Neither did Lynette. Her scream was heartbreaking. I glanced outside the circle to see that Anastasia had her arms around the woman who clutched her own chest as she shrieked in agony.
Goddess! They’re Imprinted!
Then my attention had to snap back to Neferet. I went to my knees beside her and shifted her body so that she was laying on her side, bleeding heavily into the ground.
Her emerald eyes were glassy with shock. “What have you done?”
“Exactly what was done before,” I said. “It’s not fatal. He’s taken your blood, not your life. I give you my word.” Then I looked up at Rephaim who was staring at me in shock. “Do it! Call Kalona now!”
His face was pale, but when he spoke his voice blasted around us.
“Ancient one sleeping, it is time to arise,
The dead have joined with fire and water red
I am son who is not—my raven call I did devise
Hear me—hear my call—rise from your sacrificial bed!
By this blood of she—neither friend nor foe—you are free
Behold her terrible sacrifice—it is a bittersweet sight,
Ruled by Light we do wish to be
No one will kneel to Darkness tonight!
Kalona, your return shall be sweet
We welcome you with love and heat!”
The massive oak’s branches began to sway in its own wind. I grabbed Neferet’s shoulders and was ready to drag her out of the way should Kalona explode out of it like he had in our world.
But everything was different that night.
Instead of the tree bursting apart, it bloomed. At the first massive fork it began opening—gently, with no violence or horrors. And from that opening wings appeared—so silver-white that they matched the glowing thread that bound our circle. They spread and beat against the wind, and Kalona lifted from within the heart of the tree.
34
Other Neferet
Neferet could not believe that annoying child had conspired with Other World Stark to shoot her! She could tell that the little bitch had spoken the truth about the injury though. The wound was deep and painful, but it had missed anything vital and it would heal. She was trying to send Lynette comfort. Her screams were heartbreaking because her dearest had no way of knowing she wasn’t mortally wounded, but then Rephaim used the prophecy to call to Kalona—and the tree opened to allow the immortal to fly free.
For a moment Neferet forgot the pain of her wound and the anguish of Lynette, and all that filled her senses was Kalona.
He was truly magnificent. His smooth skin was gilded with statuesque perfection. His hair was long and black and loose around his shoulders like ancient Warriors used to wear theirs. Neferet wasn’t fond of men. The truth was she had little use for them outside of sex, feeding, or protection, but even she was moved by his preternatural beauty. She’d never seen eyes like his—perfect amber orbs that blazed with joy as he soared in a circle over the tree and shouted, “Freedom! At last!”
He’s going to fly away before we can even ask for his help and this will all be for naught, she thought wearily as blood loss made her dizzy. Then he glanced down, and she watched his expression shift from wonder and joy to surprise—and he dove to land in the middle of their circle. As he touched ground, there was a powerful sizzle, and the silver ribbon that had held the circle together swirled up, making the beautiful spiral design that was often associated with the Goddess, before it rushed to Kalona, straight into his wings. They glowed white-hot for a moment before the light disappeared.
“Who should I thank for awakening—” Kalona began, but his gaze found Neferet, crumpled and bleeding across Zoey’s lap, and he rushed to her, his wings tucked neatly against his broad, bare back.
“No shirt in either world,” she heard Zoey mutter, and would’ve liked to have asked her to expound on that comment, but the immortal was suddenly there, crouching beside her.
“Priestess, is it your blood that awakened me and completed the prophecy?”
Neferet tried to say, Yes, and you required entirely too much of it, but her voice wouldn’t obey her.
The annoying child answered for her. “This is Neferet. She fulfilled the neither friend nor foe bleeding part of the prophecy.”
Kalona looked from her wound to Zoey. “I thought it was interesting phrasing when my mother created the prophecy. I shall have to discuss exactly how it was fulfilled when I have more time, but for now, I give you my thanks.”
With one quick motion he pulled the arrow from Neferet’s chest. She did find her voice then, and Lynette echoed her shriek of pain. Then he covered the bleeding wound with his hand, bowed his head, and whispered, “None should be harmed to free me, as I slept of my own will and wish no one ill.”
Neferet’s chest felt as if it was on fire and she gasped as pain assaulted her, but it lasted only for a few beats of her frantic heart. Then there was no pain, no fire, only warmth as her strength returned to her. She blinked tears of agony from her eyes and looked down at herself. There was a jagged hole in her dress, but beneath it was the pink of newly healed flesh. She sat up, moving out of Zoey’s arms, and hissed, “Bitch! ” under her breath before she peered around Kalona and the rest of them to find Lynette. Anastasia had a tight grip on her, but she was still struggling to get free—to get to Neferet. Tears and grief ravaged her face.
“Dearest! I am well! All is well!”
Lynette froze and then her gaze met Neferet’s and she collapsed into Anastasia’s arms as her sobs changed to relief. Only then did Neferet look up at the immortal who now stood over her, wings already spread so that he could take to the sky. Shakily, Neferet struggled to her feet. Zoey was beside her and she had to fight the urge to slap her—hard. But right now, it was more important to keep the immortal from fleeing.
“Thank you, Kalona of the Silver Wings,” Neferet said formally, fisting her hand over the jagged rip in her dress and bowing to him as her mind whirred, trying to think of something—anything—to say to keep him with them.
“It is the least I can do, Priestess. And I would not have anyone suffer for my awakening.”
“Good!” Zoey said. “That’s great to hear, because we all had a part in awakening you, and we really need your help.”
Kalona gazed around the circle and the school grounds. “Much has changed over these many years. I wonder how long it has been.” He seemed to speak more to himself than to them. “I do thank you for releasing me, but whatever payment you desire must wait, though I do give you my oath that I shall return to thank you properly and perform whatever task you wish, should it be in the service of the Goddess and Light.” He spread his mighty wings, causing Kevin, Rephaim, and Aphrodite to move back so as not to be struck by them. “Now, I must go. I have too long been absent from my Goddess’s side.” His wings beat the air as they lifted him.
“Father!” Rephaim shouted, his arms wide and beseeching. “Wait! Please do not go! We need you.”
The immortal drifted back to the ground, though he did not close his wings. “Child, I am not your father.”
Rephaim hurried to stand in front of him, and bowed his head respectfully before saying, “Yes, I know. You are not my father in this world, but in another world, my world, you are—” He paused and then added, “Well, you were.”
Kalona cocked his head to the side, studying Rephaim. “How can one be a father, and then not be a father?”
“Because my father—my Kalona—he died.”
Kalona shook his h
ead. His voice gentled. “You are mistaken, child. It is impossible for any being like me to die.”
Stark dropped his bow before moving quickly to Rephaim’s side to face Kalona. “No, it’s not impossible. In our world, a mirror version of this one, our Kalona died because Nyx commanded that he give me a sliver of his immortality to heal me.”
Kalona looked Stark up and down. “You must be very special to Nyx.”
Stark closed the few feet between himself and Zoey and took her hand. “Actually, it’s my High Priestess who is special to Nyx. I’m her Oathbound Warrior and Guardian—that’s all.”
Kalona’s lips tilted up. “That is enough.”
Zoey said, “When our Kalona gave Stark a sliver of his immortality, it left him vulnerable to our fallen High Priestess who’d become a powerful immortal Tsi Sgili.”
Kalona’s handsome face mirrored the disgust in his voice. “Tsi Sgili! They are demons.”
“Yes, Fath—I mean, Kalona,” Rephaim said. “That is why we need your help defeating her. The Tsi Sgili has come from our world to this one, and she threatens the balance of Light and Darkness in both of our worlds. Please stay. Please be our champion against Darkness.”
Kalona’s sigh was heartbreaking. He tilted his face up and said, “My only love, Nyx, Goddess of Night, be patient but a moment longer. Your Warrior has an earthly job to do before he may return home.”
When an answer came it was on the wings of several pearl-breasted doves that flew from the oak. Neferet’s soul lifted, and she felt hot and cold at once as Nyx’s voice fluttered through the air. Filled with love, it drifted down to them and settled into their hearts.
My Consort, my love, my Kalona. I have waited lonely centuries for you. My arms ache with your absence, but greater than my ache is the world’s need for your mighty onyx lance. Know that when your battle is over, my arms will be open and eager to hold you once more. Blessed be, my love—and may my favorite children blessed be as well.
Kalona bowed his head, and Neferet saw that he actually wiped away tears before he looked up and lifted his hand. A great black lance materialized, and the winged immortal grasped it.
Neferet was staring at the incredible weapon when she was distracted by Zoey, who was rubbing a turquoise bracelet around her right wrist as if it was causing her pain. Her gaze went from both Starks to the kids who still stood in their places of the circle. Each of them had a similar bracelet—and they, too, were either rubbing it or shaking their wrists.
“Tell me, where is this demon that I must defeat?” Kalona was saying.
Neferet lowered her voice and asked Zoey, “What is wrong with your wrists?”
Zoey looked at Stark and her gaze snapped around the circle as she noticed that her friends were being bothered by their bracelets.
“Ah, hell!” she said.
At that moment an explosion rocked the House of Night. Stone shrapnel fell among them as a section of the east wall shattered not far from where they stood.
“Lynette!” Neferet shouted, and her dearest tore herself from Anastasia, but before she reached Neferet, a piece of the rock wall smashed into her shoulder and she dropped hard to the ground. “No!” Neferet ran to her and pulled Lynette into her arms. “Dearest! Answer me! Dearest!”
Lynette’s eyes fluttered open. “I’m—I’m okay. It’s just my arm.” Her trembling hand reached up and touched Neferet’s cheek. “Oh, my lady, I thought you were dead.”
“It would take more than one of these children to kill me.” She wiped away Lynette’s tears.
Around them was chaos. No one could see through the smoking mess that had been the wide east wall. Dragon was shouting at the Sons of Erebus. Zoey had called her circle, in which Neferet and Lynette were roughly the center of, and she was hastily invoking the elements again as Anastasia and James ran inside the circle to join them. James and Stark had their bows up and ready with arrows nocked.
Then there was a series of popping sounds that utterly confused Neferet, and Dragon began shouting. “Sons of Erebus! Barricade the dorms! The rest of you, to me!”
“What is that? What’s happening?” Lynette’s voice shook with panic.
“It’s gunfire,” Stark said grimly. “Whoever it is has—”
Lynette screamed. Her eyes were huge with terror, and she was staring over Neferet’s shoulder at the broken wall.
Neferet shifted around so that she could follow her gaze, and what she saw made her so physically ill that she had to swallow bile to keep from vomiting in fear. Climbing over the still-smoking rubble of the wall was the Monstress. Her elongated limbs made her look insectile, and hundreds of tendrils of Darkness slithered with her. Toxic and menacing, they bared their teeth and hissed as they swarmed into the school grounds.
“Tsi Sgili, abomination! Return to the Darkness that spawned you!” Kalona roared as he took flight. He hurled his onyx spear. Laughing, Neferet raised her own spear—an evil-looking thing that was the white of dead eyes, curved and pointed at both ends.
The Monstress easily parried the blow and laughed. “Ah, Kalona, my old lover. So very good to see you again.”
Kalona hovered in the air above them, reached his hand out and his spear appeared in it instantly. “I have never been your lover, demon.”
The Other’s emaciated face looked skeletal as she pouted. “Oh, I do hate it when I get my worlds mixed up. But, no matter. Soon they shall both be ruled by me, and I need not keep them straight. Children, destroy everyone who stands against us!”
Her tendrils began attacking the Sons of Erebus Warriors, ripping huge pieces of flesh from them as they toyed with them cruelly.
“You have to help them,” Lynette said.
Real fear filled Neferet. “Then who will protect us, dearest?”
“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is stopping that monster.”
“We must get out of here!” Neferet insisted.
Lynette shook her head. “No, my lady. We must help them. It’s the right thing to do.”
“But we could be killed.”
“You won’t be killed,” Zoey said. She’d returned to the center of the circle and invoked spirit. “Neferet, I give you my word that my circle and I will protect Lynette—and you.”
Neferet pointed over Zoey’s shoulder at the monster that used to wear her face. “You’re not stronger than that thing! She’ll kill us all.”
Lynette touched Neferet’s cheek. “Then we’ll die knowing we did the right thing. But I believe in you, my lady—your strength and your power. She’s just a bad version of you, but she’s still like you somewhere inside all of that horror. You can defeat her. I know you can. I know you will.”
“Stay within the circle,” Neferet said as she stood. “Children! Show yourselves!” Around Neferet, hundreds of her tendrils suddenly materialized.
“Holy shit! When did they grow eyes?” Aphrodite asked.
Neferet looked down at her children. They had altered in appearance. They were still snakelike, but the prophetess was correct. Instead of blind faces and fanged mouths, they blinked up at her with golden eyes and expressions of adoration. She crouched and they came to her, eager to be close. She caressed them and whispered, “You are my beauties—my own. Be brave, children. Be brave.” Then she stood and pointed to the beleaguered Warriors. “Protect the Sons of Erebus. Kill those vile creatures who belong to the monster who wants to rule our world!”
The tendrils sped off, and Neferet stood frozen, watching them attack. Her children were vastly outnumbered, but they seemed stronger than the eyeless tendrils—and Neferet had no doubt they were. It had only been a few days since the Monstress had been released and they’d fed. It wasn’t possible that either she or her tendrils were fully recovered from a year of starvation and imprisonment.
“That was a good thing you just did,” said Aphr
odite, looking surprised. “And Zoey was telling you the truth. You’re with us now, and we don’t abandon our own. You can count on the fact that we’ll do everything in our power to protect Lynette and you.”
Neferet began to say something sarcastic, but within the prophetess’s surprised expression she saw something else—perhaps it was appreciation—perhaps it was almost acceptance, and it brought to mind the Aphrodite from her world. The one who had died that day to give the red vampyres their humanity. She would have been my friend had I been able to let her close to me, as I have Lynette. The thought so shocked Neferet that all she could do was nod and say, “I will stand with you and your circle against that.”
Both women’s gazes went to the Monstress, who had her back to what remained of the wall, battling Kalona. Neither appeared to be winning, and as they watched, the Monstress parried a blow and then, with the speed of a skittering spider, she struck and the tip of one side of her spear turned red with the immortal’s blood.
“Can he defeat her?” Neferet asked.
“He has to,” Aphrodite said grimly.
“Z!” Stark shouted. He and James were side by side, lethal mirror images who fired together—their arrows slicing through tendrils of Darkness that seethed around the battling Sons of Erebus Warriors, hitting only the children of the Monstress and allowing Neferet’s tendrils to continue fighting beside the Warriors. “We’re almost out of arrows! We have to get inside—regroup—rearm!”
Zoey ran to the center of the circle. “Okay, we need to move this circle to the school, but do not let go of your element! No matter what, do not break this circle!”
“We got you, Z!” Stevie Rae shouted. As one, the four who represented the elements moved together toward the center, so that their circle was smaller and easier to manage.
The pop, pop, pop of assault rifles invaded the grounds as vampyre soldiers poured out of the Field House. They began cutting through the Sons of Erebus Warriors—who were armed only with swords, knives, bows, and courage.
