The End of Magic, page 26
“It’s working,” Dev said as soon as they approached. “It was such a good idea.”
She was smiling, but underneath the smile she was stressed.
“We took care of Desmond,” Daniela said. “He’s not gonna be messing with anyone ever again.”
She knew her words sounded harsh, but she would cry over his death at a later date . . . and she wouldn’t be mourning the man upstairs, she’d be mourning the death of the man she’d thought he was.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Both of you,” Dev said to Lyse and Daniela, but she didn’t look sorry at all.
“Don’t be,” Daniela said, and Lyse nodded.
“Tell us about the spell,” Lyse said, changing the subject.
“Well, the girls and I got the women together and we worked it into being . . . I think it will hold as long as necessary.”
It had been Thomas’s idea. There was so much magic on this ship, why not use it to fashion a protection spell? So he and Dev had worked to weave a spell that would make the mess hall and everything in it invisible to anyone who meant the women on the ship harm.
“We gave them each a symbol to cast in their minds, and it’s working,” Thomas said as he came to stand behind Dev.
Daniela was glad to see that the two of them seemed to have put aside their differences and were working together. It was stupid to have any infighting when there were about a hundred armed Flood members roaming the halls.
“Well, you’ve made it easier for us to take them out without anyone else getting hurt in the crossfire,” Jessika said; the gun that was in her hand was sheathed now. “With that said, time for me to go back out there.”
“Thank you,” Daniela said. “Thanks for looking out for us.”
“Let’s just say that when this is all over, you and I will figure out a better way to thank me,” she said, giving Daniela a wink before she walked away.
Daniela watched until Jessika was gone, but her mind was already working out ways to show her gratitude to the sexy woman with the gun.
“I think she likes you,” Niamh said.
Lyse laughed and shook her head at Daniela.
“There’s way more than ‘like’ happening there, Niamh.”
“Yes, I would have to agree with Lyse on that front,” Thomas said.
I seriously hope Lyse is right about that, Daniela thought, but she didn’t weigh in.
Daniela could feel the spell working all around them—it gave a sharp, metallic taste to the air.
“So what? We just hang out here until Jessika and the Eagles take everyone out?” Daniela asked.
“That’s it exactly,” Lyse said. “You guys stay here. I think you have it well in hand.”
“Does that mean you’re going now?” Dev asked, her eyes welling with tears.
“Yeah,” Lyse said. “I think it does.”
“Don’t go!” Ginny said, clambering out of her seat and throwing herself at Lyse’s waist. “Marji says you might die. Don’t die, please.”
Marji was still sitting at the table, but her head was down and she looked like she was crying. Dev went over to her older daughter and knelt beside her.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened, Marji?”
But Marji just shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks and onto the tabletop.
“Baby, tell me—”
Thomas came to stand on Marji’s other side.
“Why don’t you let me?” he said to Dev.
“Well, I—”
“Let him, Dev,” Daniela said. She’d seen the way Marji looked at Thomas. Maybe her hero worship would get her talking.
Dev nodded and stood back up, letting Thomas have a moment with her daughter. She sat down in one of the chairs and pulled Ginny onto her lap.
Daniela watched as Thomas inclined his head toward Marji.
“It can’t be that bad. Why don’t you whisper it in my ear?”
Marji shook her head no.
“Please?” Thomas continued. “It’s always better to say it out loud. Takes the power of it away.”
Marji thought for a moment, and then she leaned over and whispered in his ear. He nodded, listening.
“I see,” he said, nodding again.
When she was done, he stood back up and laid his hand on her shoulder.
“It’s hard to know these things, my dear. But sometimes we are forced to bear things we think will break us.”
He kissed Marji on the top of the head.
“You did beautifully,” he added. “Now go give Lyse a hug and tell her that you love her.”
Slowly, Marji climbed to her feet.
“I’m sorry, and don’t die,” she cried, and ran to Lyse, burying her face in Lyse’s waist.
“It’s okay,” Lyse said, stroking the girl’s hair. “You know that this isn’t the end . . .” Lyse continued, but Marji pulled away, looking up at her.
“I know it’s not,” she said, in between hiccupping tears. “I love you, Lyse.”
She wouldn’t say any more after that, just held on for a moment longer and then went to join Ginny and Dev. The moment passed, but it had made Daniela feel very, very sad.
• • •
Lyse hadn’t asked Thomas to tell her what Marji had said to him. She didn’t seem to want to know.
Well, the first thing I’m gonna do is harass the information right out of him, Daniela thought as she, Thomas, and Niamh waited in the galley to see Lyse off.
“So I just scroll through the past and try to figure out what went wrong?” Lyse asked.
“You’ll know it when you see it,” Thomas said.
Lyse nodded.
“Okay, I guess it’s now or never.”
“Be safe,” Daniela said, hugging Lyse tight and then releasing her.
“I’ll try,” Lyse said, and gave Daniela a wink.
“Be careful,” Thomas said, letting Lyse hug him, too.
“Like I said. I’ll try.”
Lyse took a step back and lifted her arms in the air. A glowing ball of blue neon light crackled in between her hands.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you on the other side,” Lyse said, giving them a halfhearted grin—and Daniela watched as the orb grew large enough to encapsulate Lyse’s entire body.
“Go now!” Thomas said to Niamh.
Niamh didn’t blink. She just hurled herself at the glowing orb, slipping inside just as it popped out of existence.
“Holy crap,” Daniela said.
Niamh and Lyse were both gone.
And that was when shit on board the destroyer really hit the fan.
Lyse
“Waaaait!” The word was muffled and elongated, as if it were coming from the bottom of the sea.
Lyse turned her head, her view tinged in neon blue. The world beyond the confines of the orb was static, time slowing to a crawl. Niamh, who’d been running toward Lyse before the orb had popped, was still going, her arms and legs caught in an exaggerated pumping motion, one hand extended, the fingers touching the glowing edge of the neon-blue bubble.
Then she saw the tip of Niamh’s finger pierce the side of the orb—and the sound it made was like someone breaking a plate-glass window with a ball-peen hammer. Her gut reaction was to end the spell—but she’d never tried to stop it before, not once she’d called it into being. She wasn’t sure it was even possible.
This is nuts, Lyse thought. She’s gonna get herself killed.
So she did something scary. She attempted to stop her passage into the dreamlands. But she quickly realized that things were already in motion, too far along to be stopped. That breaking the spell might kill them both. Instead, Lyse turned her attention to helping Niamh climb inside the orb.
Grabbing Niamh’s hand, she began to pull the other woman through the neon-blue membrane.
“C’mon,” she muttered under her breath as she threw all her strength behind her efforts, determined to keep Niamh safe.
Lyse could still see the outside world, could tell Niamh’s lower extremities were caught there, trapped between the two realities. She felt Niamh’s arms wrap around her, crushing her throat with a terrified clutching that made it hard to breathe. She had to push Niamh away, had to or she would’ve passed out from the lack of oxygen.
“Let go, can’t breathe!” Lyse gasped, tearing at Niamh’s grasping fingers.
Niamh was frantic, obviously regretting her impetuous decision, but it was too late. Lyse had to find a way to get her in the orb, or God knew what would happen to her.
“Niamh, calm down,” Lyse said. “Let me concentrate on making the circle bigger.”
She felt stupid for not thinking of this before, but Niamh’s surprise stowaway move had thrown her.
“Relax,” Lyse murmured—and she felt Niamh go limp in her arms. “Good.”
She needed to focus on making the orb larger.
You can do this, she thought, and closed her eyes, letting all other thoughts drift away. She directed all of her energy toward this one goal, pushing out with her mind, harnessing the psychic energy inside her to expand the orb so that it covered both of them.
A feeling of intense calm settled over Lyse, her breathing slowing down and her focus laser sharp. In her mind’s eye, she saw the orb surrounding them, a massive glistening soap bubble in shades of electric blue growing larger to encompass the rest of Niamh.
With a pop, Niamh fell against her, knocking them both backward and onto the ground. Lyse opened her eyes and had to close them again, the bright blue sky above her so intense it was nearly blinding. After a few seconds, she opened them again, giving them a few stinging minutes to adjust, then turned her head to find Niamh a few feet away, also having trouble adjusting to the brightness of the day they’d fallen into.
“You all right?” Lyse asked, and Niamh nodded.
Lyse propped herself up on her elbows, exhaustion flooding her body, making her feel woozy.
“What were you thinking? That was crazy. You could’ve killed us both,” Lyse said.
“Thomas thought you’d say no if I’d asked to come,” Niamh began.
“Damn right, I would have,” Lyse agreed.
“I’m sorry,” Niamh said.
Lyse sighed and let her eyes drift across the landscape, taking it all in. They were on a flat, sandy expanse of beach. The crash of the waves a few hundred feet from where they lay was omnipresent and intoxicating. Lyse wanted to close her eyes and lie back down, let the echoing roll of the sea calm her down, wash away all the stress and tension in her body and brain.
Not gonna happen, she thought, and then she exhaled, trying not to let her anger surface.
Instead, she said: “You shouldn’t have tried to come with me. This is something I needed to do on my own.”
She pulled herself up into a kneeling position, the knees of her jeans turning dark blue from the moisture in the sand. “You had no right trying to stop me.”
Niamh frowned, shielding her eyes with the heel of her palm.
“You think I was trying to stop you?”
“What else were you doing?” Lyse asked.
Niamh shook her head.
“No, I wanted to help you,” she said, the bright sun making the freckles on her cheeks stand out against her pale skin. “I think Thomas wanted me to come with you because I can make stuff happen here in the dreamlands. He can, too, and he would’ve come instead of me, but he was afraid you wouldn’t trust him.”
“He wasn’t wrong,” Lyse said.
“It’s a death sentence being here and not having the ability to make the world bend to your will,” Niamh said—and Lyse realized she’d been mistaken. Niamh really had come to help. She felt foolish for not seeing Niamh’s motives earlier.
“I wish I hadn’t had to come here,” Niamh added, grabbing a handful of pale white sand in her hand and letting it slowly trickle out through her fingers. “You think I want to tag along? Well, you’re wrong. This place scares me. I hate it here in the dreamlands.”
Lyse agreed. The dreamlands were out of control, unpredictable . . . scary. But she instinctively knew that they would lead her where she needed to go. She had to find the moment in time when The Flood—or the thing that appeared as The Flood in her world—came into its power. She had to stop that moment from happening before their universe was destroyed forever.
“I appreciate you coming with me,” Lyse began, then stopped, realizing how lame that sounded. “Thank you.”
Niamh seemed to accept this as if it were an apology.
“You’re wel—”
Her words were drowned out by the crash of waves, appreciably louder now than they’d been not ten seconds earlier.
“What were you saying—” But the words were hardly out of her mouth before a cacophonous roaring overwhelmed her ears and she was enveloped in a wash of seawater. She sputtered, her lungs taking in the salty brine, and she dug her hands into the sand for purchase as the wave began to retreat, creating an undertow that tried to take Lyse with it as it returned to the sea.
She was able to remain on the shore as the wave dissipated, but just barely. She gulped down oxygen as she climbed to her feet, her legs shaking, her body drenched.
“Niamh?” She looked around for her friend, but she was gone. Only sand and surf as far as the eye could see.
She whirled around, eyes scanning for any sign of movement—and then she saw it. A small blue boat broke the surface of the water way out on the horizon, popping up from the depths like a bouncing buoy marker.
“Niamh!” Lyse screamed and began to run toward the tide line, the fingers of the sea reaching out to embrace her.
The small boat moved fast, slipping over the waves. As it got closer, she could make out Niamh’s face, her hair plastered to her head with ocean water. She’d wrapped her arms around herself for warmth, her body shivering.
When the boat was close enough to approach, Lyse ran out into the water, the splash her shoes made swallowed whole by the crashing surf. As she clambered on board, she saw that Niamh’s teeth were chattering.
“If I hadn’t . . . I could be . . .” Niamh tried to say in between hiccups of tears. “I would be . . . dead.”
Lyse didn’t know how she’d escaped being dragged out to sea, but obviously Niamh hadn’t been so lucky. The shock of it all had scared her badly.
“But you aren’t and you didn’t. You saved yourself.”
Niamh nodded, the chattering of her teeth and the pale blue of her lips worrying Lyse.
“Can you wish yourself a blanket? You’re freezing,” Lyse added.
In less than a second, a heavy woolen blanket—that smelled like wet dog—appeared around Niamh’s shoulders.
“Boy, does that thing stink,” Lyse said, holding her nose.
“It’s . . . the blanket our dog, Angelbetti, slept on when Laragh and I were kids.”
“Well, it still stinks,” Lyse teased. “But it’s a good stink.”
Niamh gave her a tentative smile in return.
“She was the stinkiest dog that ever existed. But the most loyal and kindest and sweetest dog ever,” Niamh said. “I miss her even now.”
The talk of her childhood pet seemed to cheer Niamh up, knocking away some of the fear that had been circling her.
“As much as I like this boat, I don’t think we’re where I need to be,” Lyse said as the percussive crash of waves broke against the beach.
“I don’t want to leave here,” Niamh said. “It feels safe.”
Lyse shook her head.
“Nothing’s safe in the dreamlands.”
“I know,” Niamh said, softly, her eyes downcast.
As if to remind them of the truth of this, Lyse felt the water beneath them begin to churn.
“We need off this boat,” Lyse cried. “Now!”
She grabbed Niamh’s hand and dragged them both to the edge of the boat. She pushed Niamh off the side, then followed her overboard just as the boat was caught in a giant riptide that yanked it backward like it was a toy.
Niamh screamed as they watched a giant whirlpool open up under the boat, sucking it down into the icy depths of the sea. Lyse grabbed Niamh’s hand and began to run for shore. She didn’t stop to look back, she just held fast to Niamh’s hand. The water was freezing as it lapped at their ankles, the cold water trying to stop them from reaching the beach. Lyse imagined her feet were engulfed in flame—and then they just were, the heat pushing back the tentacles of ice water and helping Lyse to pull them from the clutches of the sea.
The sensation of heat and flame dissipated as they reached the shore, but Lyse didn’t stop running. She knew the water wasn’t done with them yet, felt its need to consume them, and she had no intention of letting that happen.
“Don’t stop! Keep running,” Lyse screamed—and then she felt it. It was like the entire sea was being sucked back by a giant vacuum cleaner, and the powerful wave that Lyse knew was coming terrified the hell out of her.
“It’s a tsunami!” Lyse cried. “We need a wall—something to block it!”
“If you imagine it, through me you can make it happen,” Niamh yelled back at her.
Lyse did as Niamh said, imagined a wall so tall that nothing could ever breach it, and channeled the other woman’s power through their physical connection. She felt the wave behind them, towering over their path like a twenty-story skyscraper about to crash onto them—but she knew that the wall she and Niamh had built would keep them safe.
“Keep going forward! Don’t stop for anything,” Lyse screamed into the wind, her words looping back to Niamh.
“Okay!” Niamh yelled back, but because she was behind Lyse, her response was barely a whisper in Lyse’s ear.
