Beautiful Darkness(123)

Larkin was at the base of the pyre. I watched as he moved closer to the stone stairs. Closer to —

Lena.

She lay collapsed, her hands extended toward the flames, her eyes shut. Her head was in John Breed's lap, and she looked unconscious. He looked different — blank. Like he was in a trance of his own.

Lena was shaking. Even from here, I could feel the biting cold radiating from the fire. She must have been freezing. A circle of Dark Casters surrounded the pyre. I didn't recognize them, but I could tell they were Dark by their crazed yellow eyes.

Lena! Can you hear me?

Sarafine's eyes flashed open. The Casters began to chant.

“Liv, what's happening?” I whispered.

“They're calling a Claiming Moon.”

I didn't need to understand what they were saying to know what was happening. Sarafine was calling the Seventeenth Moon so Lena could make her choice while she was under the influence of some sort of Dark Cast. Or the weight of her guilt, a Dark Cast of its own.

“What are they doing?”

“Sarafine is using all her power to channel the Dark Fire's energy, and her own, into the moon.” Liv was fixated on the scene as if she was trying to memorize every detail, evil or not. It was the Keeper in her, compelled to record history in the making.

Vexes whipped around the cavern, threatening to bring down the walls — spiraling, gaining strength and mass. “We need to get down there.” Liv nodded, and Link grabbed Ridley's hand.

We made our way down the side of the cavern, keeping to the shadows until we reached the wet, sandy cave floor. I realized the chanting had stopped. The Casters were silently transfixed, watching Sarafine and the pyre, as if they were all under the same mind-numbing spell.

“Now what?” Link looked pale.

A figure stepped into the center of the circle. I didn't have to guess who it was, because he was wearing the same Sunday suit and string tie from the visions. His white summer suit made him look even more out of place among the Dark Casters and the helix of Vexes.

It was Abraham, the only Incubus powerful enough to summon this many Vexes from below. Larkin and Hunting stood behind him, and every Incubus in the cavern fell to one knee. Abraham raised his hands up toward the vortex. “It's time.”

Lena! Wake up!

The flames surrounding the pyre surged higher. In front of the pyre, John Breed gently lifted Lena to wake her up.

L! Run!

Lena looked around, disoriented. She didn't react to my voice. I wasn't sure if she could hear anything. Her movements were unsteady, as if she didn't know where she was.

Abraham reached out toward John and lifted his hand slowly. John jerked, then picked Lena up in his arms, rising as if being pulled by a string.

Lena!

Lena's head fell to the side, her eyes closing again. John carried her up the stairs. The cocky attitude was gone. He looked like a zombie.

Ridley pushed her way closer. “Lena's totally disoriented. She doesn't even know what's happening. It's an effect of the fire.”

“Why would they want her to be passed out? Doesn't Lena have to be conscious to Claim herself?” I thought that was a given.

Ridley stared at the fire. Her voice was uncharacteristically serious, and she was avoiding my eyes. “The Claiming requires volition. She'll have to make the Choice.” Ridley sounded strange. “Unless …”

“Unless what?” I didn't have time to try to interpret Ridley.

“Unless she already has.” By leaving us behind. By taking off the necklace. By running off with John Breed.

“She hasn't,” I said automatically. I knew Lena. There was a reason for all of it, everything. “She hasn't.”

Ridley looked at me. “I hope you're right.”

John reached the top of the altar, Larkin following behind him. Larkin bound Sarafine and Lena together under the light of the Seventeenth Moon.

I felt my heart pounding. “I have to get Lena. Can you help me?”

Link grabbed two chunks of rock, big enough to do some damage if he could get close enough to use them. Liv flipped through her notebook. Even Ridley unwrapped a lollipop and shrugged. “You never know.”

I heard another voice behind me. “You aren't gonna be able to get up there unless you're fixin’ to take care a all those Vexes on your own. And I don't remember teachin’ you how to do that.” I smiled before I turned around.

It was Amma, and this time she had brought some of the living with her. Arelia and Twyla stood nearby, and together the three old women looked like the Three Fates. Relief washed over me, and I realized part of me had thought I'd never see Amma again. I crushed her in a hug, which she returned, straightening her hat. That's when I saw Gramma's old-fashioned lace-up boots, as she stepped out from behind Arelia.

Make that Four Fates.

“Ma'am.” I nodded to Gramma. She nodded back, as if she was about to offer me tea on the veranda at Ravenwood. Then I panicked, because we weren't at Ravenwood. And Amma and Arelia and Twyla weren't the Three Fates. They were three ancient, brittle-boned Southern ladies who were probably about two hundred and fifty years old between them — wearing support hose. And Gramma wasn't much younger. These Four Fates, in particular, had no business being on a battlefield.

Come to think of it, neither did this one Wate.