Resurrection

by Nancy Holder

  Elijah, my love, Nicolette thought as each Justice in turn blazed in a nimbus of light. Then all the brilliance was sucked from the room.

  “Cast out,” the voice said. “Cast out of the paradise of true love. Cahors, Deveraux, you may never enter it together again.”

  No! Nicolette screamed. She stared at Elijah, willing him to stop them, slay them, call down the wrath of his God upon them. His eyes were burning; flames danced inside them. Ebony flames, black fire, and then…

  …and then she saw a young woman, weeping tears of black fire; she was a child of the future; she was Holly, of the Cahors, and she loved Jeraud Deveraux.

  Oh, my sister, Nicolette cried out to her. Don’t let this come to pass.

  Then she saw nothing as she fainted dead away.

  Nicolette, Elijah, Marie, and Louis were never seen again. Deveraux blamed Cahors for the disappearance. Cahors knights snuck into Castle Deveraux and assassinated the six children of the reigning duke in an act of vengeance. The two families hated each other, with wrath that pushed past sanity; a rage as vast as that of Kali fed the hatred that tore them into factions and wars and hatred and bloodshed.

  Across the continents and oceans, knowing sorcerers and wizards sought to keep it that way. If the Cahors and Deveraux hacked at each other’s necks, they would hack at no one else’s.

  Scarborough: Richard, Anne-Louise, Owen, and Sasha

  Richard paced, worried for his daughter and feeling more helpless than he’d felt in a long time. “Is it possible she went after Amanda and Tommy?” he asked.

  Anne-Louise shook her head. “I don’t think Nicole can open a portal by herself, and besides, I don’t think she would leave Owen.”

  He knew she was right, but he didn’t like it. Divide and conquer. It was an old battle tactic, and you didn’t get much more divided than he had been in the last several months. Enough.

  “Can you find the ones in India again, get a good location and open a portal, a two-way one?”

  “Maybe I can open a portal,” Sasha said. “It seems I’m getting rather good at that.”

  “Or someone is,” he replied pointedly.

  She hadn’t told them very much about her encounter with Merlin. But it was clear she was terrified. He would let it go for the moment, but sooner or later she was going to have to tell them everything she knew.

  Anne-Louise headed for her room, and a moment later was back. “A strand of Pablo’s hair; that will help us find them.”

  “You’re wanting to go to them?” Sasha asked.

  “No. I’m going to go and bring them back.”

  House Moore might have been a death trap, but at least it was one he was getting to know fairly well.

  Mumbai

  Armand turned around and killed a demon that had been trying to catch him unawares. Beside him a portal shimmered, and Richard Anderson stepped through. He was carrying a machine gun.

  The man flashed him a wicked grin. “The cavalry is here. Now get the hell out,” he said, jerking a finger over his shoulder to the portal.

  “Pablo!” Armand shouted. In an instant the boy was by his side and they stepped through together.

  Demons flew through the air and crawled across the ground in an attempt to follow. Richard fired on them and was pleased to see that the magic in the bullets had as great an impact as the bullets themselves.

  “Dad!”

  Tommy and Amanda ran toward him, half-carrying, half-dragging Jer between them. They passed through the portal. Behind them came Philippe carrying a young woman. Next to him was Eli.

  The last time Richard had checked, Eli had been on the other side. He swung his gun toward him. His finger tightened on the trigger, and he felt a small measure of satisfaction. He had always hated Eli.

  “No! He is with us!” Philippe said.

  Richard knew he could shoot anyway and claim it was an accident. He sighed and instead shot a demon who was chasing the three. They barreled past him through the portal. He took one last sweeping look but didn’t see Nicole. He would have stayed, but he figured the others had answers. He’d go back to House Moore with them, and come back better armed—with weapons and knowledge.

  Back in the Great Room at House Moore, Anne-Louise and Sasha were already tending the wounded. The woman had been stabbed in the chest, and Jer looked like someone had broken their fists on his face.

  Amanda ran over to Richard and threw her arms around him. She kissed his cheek and then pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “Where’s Nicole?” she asked.

  “I was hoping you’d tell me,” he said grimly.

  eleven

  ROSEMARY

  Lives are lost and lines are changed

  Time itself is rearranged

  But we do not fear the night

  For the sun god gives us might

  Hiding now in darkness near

  Pressing in is all our fear

  Something stirs deep inside

  Something that we need to hide

  The Temple of the Blind Justices: Nicole

  “How can you think I did this to myself on purpose?” Nicole shouted.

  “You are a Deveraux lover.” The voice echoed all around her.

  “Not for a long time. Or didn’t you notice we broke up. His dad murdered my mom, and he would have done the same to me. Owen, I don’t know how he came to me. I don’t even really remember being pregnant. It was like one day I wasn’t and the next day I was nine months pregnant. Like magic.”

  She could feel them stirring at that. Something else popped into her mind. “I believe someone has changed time.” The thought had come to her a few times, but she had quickly discounted it.

  The Justices reacted more strongly.

  “How do you know this?”

  “I don’t. I don’t know anything,” she said. She felt tired, overwhelmed, weak. And more than that, she felt drained. “I need to go back to be with my sister. We’re twins and I think we feed each other our magical power. Please. Let me go.”

  “Do you think you are the first daughter of magic to have a twin? You are not even the only or the most powerful twins in this time.”

  “What? Who are you talking about?” Nicole demanded.

  “You were lucky to remain together. Not so with the others. Too strong, too much power. Together they tip the scales.”

  She stared at their unmoving mouths. Their milky eyes.

  “Who?”

  “Separated and changed, one hiding and the other never knowing her name.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Nicole asked.

  And then, in her heart, she knew why. They were not going to let her go. That was why they spoke so openly.

  No. I can’t leave Owen and Amanda.

  She took a ragged breath. “If you only plan on killing me, at least speak English. If your plan was so brilliant, prove it to me, tell me who you separated.”

  “One child in darkness hid in shame. The other child in light without her own name.”

  “What does that even mean?” Nicole asked.

  “They are both Deveraux.”

  A chill danced up Nicole’s spine. Deveraux twin girls. And she and Amanda were Cahors twin girls. That couldn’t be a coincidence. But the others were more powerful than she and Amanda. Add Holly, though, and no Deveraux alive can touch us, Nicole thought. The one raised in the Supreme Coven knew who she was but hid. Who was she afraid of? Michael? Sir William? The other one, raised in the Mother Coven with no idea that she was a Deveraux.

  And in her mind’s eye she saw the battle in the headquarters of the Supreme Coven and the warlock Eve who knew Jer, who’d helped them, and who’d escaped herself. And then she saw another face, a woman with strikingly similar features and exquisite grace. Anne-Louise. Anne-Louise, who could cast wards far more powerful than any other. Anne-Louise, who had been raised inside the temple of the Mother Coven because she’d been an orphan.

  Nicole fell to her knees and retched. Anne-Louise who even
now was with Owen.

  France: Kari

  Kari stood before the ruins of Castle Cahors. Evil permeated the air like a foul stench; she could feel the death throes of a thousand souls; a thousand thousand. There had been much death-dealing here, for political gain, and magical conquest.

  I hear the dead, she thought, because I am dead.

  She didn’t know why she was there. It was like waking up into a dream, not waking out of one. The air shimmered, and she stumbled backward. The ground vibrated, tickling the soles of her feet.

  Tu est là, said the voice. You are there.

  “Yes,” she said in English.

  One such as you completes the circuit. One is here who will die if she comes to your time. And you have died.

  “I died,” she whispered. Someone else might have been terrified, but she felt…nothing.

  It is not yet time. They are coming. Wait for them.

  In her mind she saw an inn down the road. Behind her the French cab idled, waiting for her. She turned and climbed back in. An hour later she lay down on her bed in her rented room, and did not dream.

  Three days later she was summoned again.

  Dr. Nigel Temar stepped out of the shadows of the chestnut trees just as a young woman with brown hair approached the ruins of Castle Cahors. For one instant he thought she was Kari, but no such luck. And yet, his GPS system had finally begun to work, and it had signaled that she should be there.

  Then the woman saw him, and looked as confused as he probably did. She cocked her head as an Asian-looking man came up behind her and took her hand.

  “Bonjour,” she said cautiously. The man remained silent.

  “These are lovely ruins, are they not?” Nigel said. “In my guidebook—”

  “They’re not in any guidebooks, at least the ones we have,” she cut in. “Do you know what they’re called?”

  Nigel licked his lips. “Castle Ca—”

  He stopped speaking as he caught the flash of motion on the road, and realized a car was approaching. He watched as it rolled to a stop.

  And Kari stepped out.

  “Oh, God!” he shouted, just as the woman and the man yelled, “Kari!”

  All three of them ran to her. The woman reached Kari first and threw her arms around her. “We’ve been so worried. What happened?”

  “Where’ve you been?” Dr. Temar demanded. “Why did you leave like that?”

  The Asian man blinked. “I know you. You’re Dr. Temar, from the university.”

  “Yes,” Nigel said. “And you’re Tommy Nagai. A friend of Kari’s. I’ve been looking for her. And my system…” He gestured to his tracker, a small basic black rectangle. He managed a weak smile. “My system worked.”

  “Probably because it’s Wolf Moon,” Amanda said. “When there’s wild work to be done.” She took a deep breath. “I’m Amanda Anderson. A bunch of us…hung out with Kari.”

  “Performed magic rituals, you mean,” Dr. Temar said, “with Jer Deveraux.”

  “And you brought Kari back,” Amanda said. “But not with magic.”

  The earth beneath their feet shook.

  Hard.

  What’s happening?” Dr. Temar cried. He grabbed on to Kari just as the ground he’d been standing on jutted upward, slamming them both to their knees. He heard Tommy shout; then Amanda began speaking in Latin, or a language more ancient and arcane. Dirt clouds spewed upward, and Dr. Temar’s left leg dangled in thin air. His arms around Kari, he pulled up on his elbows and looked over his shoulder, to see a huge fissure zigzag through the wild grass.

  “Kari!” he cried, pushing her out of the way. But the fissure cracked wider, sending shoots toward them, as if it were chasing them. He scrambled faster, grabbing her wrists and dragging her toward the road.

  There was a huge whoosh, and then a roar like a sonic boom. He whirled around as smoke and steam rushed out of the fissure like tons of dry ice.

  The air shimmered; the sky lowered, darkened. A deep blue-white glow burst out of the huge crack in the earth.

  And in it, surrounded by a ball of icy light, a man stood. He wore a midnight blue magician’s robe spangled with moons and stars, and a hood. His face was leathery, and old, and a white bushy beard hung down to his chest. His eyes were eerily blue.

  The sphere vanished, and he stood facing the ruins of Castle Cahors.

  “Merci,” the man said to Kari.

  Amanda stared at him. He looked familiar, like an image from a book…a book…the book.

  Kari said, “Owen.”

  “Is he here?” the man asked. He squared his shoulders. “I demand him.”

  “Owen?” Tommy asked. “How do you know—”

  “Who are you?” Dr. Temar said.

  “Oh, Goddess,” Amanda whispered. “I know who he is.” She took a deep breath. “He’s Merlin.”

  “Merlin?” Tommy said, his eyes widening. “Like in the movies?”

  “Movies?” the man shouted. “Man, have you eyes?”

  “Owen,” Kari said again.

  Amanda stared at the man. At Merlin. He couldn’t be…and yet, where had they kept Nicole prisoner? On the island of Avalon. And what had she told them? There had been something there. Something ancient.

  “I told you to bring him,” Merlin said through clenched teeth. He was speaking to Kari.

  She shook her head. “Did not hear.”

  He doubled his fists. “Still they thwart me! From the grave they taunt me! Melchior, Gaspar, Balthasar, I will end you.”

  “The Wise Men,” Amanda murmured.

  Merlin whirled on her. His face was contorted with fury. “Wise, indeed. Ruthless, cunning, immoral bastards. Where is the child?”

  Tommy looked at Amanda. “What’s going on?”

  Suddenly Merlin smiled. He exhaled slowly, and his features softened. He pulled down his hood, revealing a mane of white hair, which he raked with his long fingers.

  “Forgive me. I have been a long time away. Imprisoned. Unjustly,” he added. His voice was tinged with insincere warmth. He reached a hand toward Amanda. “I sense much power in you.”

  Kari stirred. “Folklore,” she said.

  “Yes, yes,” Dr. Temar cut in. “Merlin was imprisoned in the Crystal Cave. A fatherless boy whose name meant ‘Falcon’ became a great sorcerer.”

  “Falcon,” Kari said. “Fantasme.”

  “The familiar of the Deveraux,” Amanda added. She cocked her head, bracing herself for a magical attack. Waves of darkness rolled off Merlin. He was deadly. Dangerous.

  “They imprisoned you,” Dr. Temar said. “The Wise Men.” Merlin raised his brows. “How could that possibly have come to pass?” Dr. Temar asked.

  “Because…you were one of them,” Amanda said. “You were astrologers, sorcerers.”

  “Zoroastrians,” Dr. Temar added.

  “Nonsense,” Merlin said, shaking his head. “Now, if I might see Owen.”

  “That’s why you’re here. For him,” Amanda said in a low, icy voice. “Somehow you got free and you want him.”

  “I want my son,” he affirmed. “He is mine. I mean to have him.” He began to make motions. Light and thunder blurred the air. Crows cawed. “And no one will keep him from me.”

  The sky went black as he disappeared. And everyone returned to House Moore.

  The Temple of the Blind Justices: Nicole

  Nicole had a vague awareness that time was passing. She did know that she was growing weaker, and she could almost hear the cries of her loved ones as they searched for her.

  Then there was a stirring. “He is free,” one of the Justices whispered.

  Just one. They were separate, individuals. Something had changed.

  “Who?” Nicole said, shooting to her feet. “Not—”

  “The child’s father,” another one acknowledged.

  Nicole shook her head. That terrible thing on the island, it had come into her room; it had somehow fathered a child with her. So many terrible things. How was
that balance? From where she’d been sitting, the bad guys seemed to win a lot more than the good guys. She looked from face to face, seeking an ally, seeking a friend. They all sat in stony silence, immune to her pain.

  Except for one. The one in the center chair was smiling. His robes were white, and yet there was a darkness surrounding him. Could they not see it?

  She looked closer. He was tall, and his cheekbones were deep and hollow, like William Moore’s. Where had she seen him before?

  Her breath caught. Once she had caught Amanda sleepwalking, and Amanda had been standing and staring at a row of ancestral portraits. But not at the row. At the portrait of this very man.

  She raised her arm and pointed at him.

  “You! You’re the one who has been working against us. You’re the one who’s been talking to my cousin and nearly caused me to kill my own baby.” Rage made her shake. “You’re still a Moore. Still loyal to your House.”

  “Is this true?” the rest of the Justices asked in unison, turning like one person to face the accused.

  “No,” he denied, blinking his white eyes.

  And then suddenly the air around him was filled with images. Nicole and the Justices watched as time and time again he sabotaged the Cahors and manipulated them. Yes, changing time. Yes, summoning imps and sprites. Calling the yowie. Alerting Merlin that rescue was at hand.

  “She is correct. You are not a keeper of the balance. Xavier Moore, as once you were called, you are guilty,” the Justices proclaimed, rising from their marble thrones.

  “No. She’s lying. She’s creating those images,” Xavier Moore insisted, leaping from his own throne. “To frame me. To take attention off her own wrongdoing.”

  “Guilty.”

  “I am not!” he cried.

  “Guilty!” They stretched out their hands, as Nicole had. There was a flash of fire.

  He was gone. His throne was empty.

  “What happened?” Nicole asked.

  “Guilty. The treacherous Xavier Moore tipped the scales. He exists no longer.”