Undone: The Complete Duology, page 35
“No,” I said, “Why would I?”
“For the same reason they all do.” He gestured broadly towards the front of the church.
“Your illusion can’t last forever.”
He frowned. “Everything must end eventually, I suppose, but we’re not quite done yet. I don’t see a soul out there who can truly defy us.”
Us?
Did he mean him and the demons? Or was there more going on in this town that I had yet to figure out?
I hoped for the former; I knew the latter was true. Fear welled up in me, hotter than the flames surrounding us.
“I will,” I said. “Gracie already has.”
He smiled, strangely serene considering the evil underneath. “Gracie is stubborn, but she hasn’t truly defied me, now has she? Her desires are self-serving. Submission is best, but revenge, loathing—she feeds us too. She isn’t so different from the others, not where it matters.”
I wanted to argue what he said, but even if I didn’t entirely understand what he meant, his words rang true. Gracie was full of hatred. Understandable, well-deserved hatred, but as much as it unsettled me, the Reverend knew my Gracie’s black little heart.
“Just let us leave,” I said, throat dry from the incessant heat pressing into me.
“You know I can’t do that,” he said evenly. “The cards have been dealt. Now we must play this out until the end and see who prevails.”
“What are you?” I found myself asking before I could catch the words.
He tipped his head. “You already know, Malachi.”
“Satan.”
The Reverend threw his head back with laughter. “He does have the best PR.”
“I don’t know about that. Not a lot of fans.”
“There’s no such thing as bad publicity, as they say.” He grinned at me, amusement in his dark eyes. “No, Malachi, I am not Satan, but I appreciate the flattery.”
I’d been sure about my guess, but now I was left off balanced again. Was he lying? That was a very Satan-thing to do, after all.
I just needed to save Gracie. The rest of the details were irrelevant.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“Resting.”
The hairs on my arms stood on end.
Before I could reply, he took a single step closer to me. The flames around us roared higher, the heat pushing in harder.
“Do you know how you increase your odds at winning a poker game?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
“Kill some of the players.”
He flicked out his arm. An ax nearly as tall as he was solidified in his grasp. Flames engulfed it as he swung at me.
With a choked yelp, I dropped into a crouch. The blade passed over my head with searing heat. I dodged to the side as he brought the ax down to where I had been. The floor of the stage splintered as the blade wedged into the wood.
He circled towards the front of the stage to block the stairs. I darted towards the back wall, near the closed drapes, staring out at him. My chest heaved as I panted for air, but the room seemed sucked dry.
“You had every opportunity, Malachi. I thought when I allowed you to enter the town, I would have a chance not only to regain Robert, but a bonus—you.” He swung the blade out in front of him. “Now the day of reckoning has come.”
I assessed my options for an escape, but the only way out would be off the front of the stage. His ax had far too much reach for me to make a run for it. I would have to distract him and work my way back around to the front.
And I still needed to find Gracie.
“If you let us leave, everything can go back to the way it was,” I said.
It was a useless point to make, but the more he spoke, the less he swung the ax and the better chances I could keep my head attached to my body.
“It’s come too far now,” he said. “He has awakened and does not like the state of the town. This is my last chance to put it right. Otherwise, he will break his bond with the people of Thorn Tree.”
Even if I didn’t know, precisely, who he was, I imagined breaking any bond within Thorn Tree would be a good development.
“Then maybe we should let him,” I said, my gaze fixed to the ax the Reverend held across the front of his body, the blade above his head.
He grinned, and I bristled at the patronizing look.
“This would be very bad for the world,” he said. “Once he begins, he does not easily stop.”
With that, the Reverend charged towards me, ax aloft. I feigned to the left, then darted to the right. He brought down the ax. The blade ripped through the drapes. He spun towards me, yanking the ax. The drapes pulled apart in shreds of cloth.
My breath caught in my lungs. I stumbled over my own feet.
Behind the curtains, set inside a cavernous alcove, loomed a statue. On top of a monstrous, pointed face rose two spiraled horns that reached all the way to the ceiling. In front of the statue, Gracie was suspended upside down among ropes like a spiderweb with her legs together and her arms out to her side. She swayed slightly. Her eyes were closed, and blood trickled down her arms and face and dripped to the floor.
“If she surrenders, I can keep the town,” the Reverend said, as if that explained anything.
Rage overtook me. Hadn’t this town done enough to her already?
I rounded on the Reverend and barreled towards him. He brought up the ax. I reached up as I ducked under the blade and caught the handle. With a kick to his chest, I knocked him away and tugged on the ax. He released his hold. I staggered backwards and toppled hard onto my ass. The flaming ax crashed on top of me, slamming into my bruised rib cage. White pain flared through me. Biting down on the agony, I grabbed the handle of the ax as I rolled to my feet.
“She will never surrender,” I spat, tasting blood.
The Reverend looked to her, appraising, and then back at me. “It’s a shame. The other option is so much worse for everyone.”
I hated this town. I hated this church. I hated the Reverend, and whatever else ruled just out of sight. There was nothing good here, nothing worth salvaging.
Thorn Tree had taken my brother from me. It had taken my life. It had taken Lexi. And now, it had taken Gracie. If she survived what had been done to her—and the odds weren’t looking in her favor—she would never truly recover. They had broken her.
With a snarl, I stormed towards the Reverend, clutching the ax. I expected him to throw a fireball at me or send a horde of demons to attack.
He just stood there, shoulders back, head raised, gaze locked on me.
I paused a foot away from him.
He met my gaze. “I’ve warned you.”
I grit my teeth and swung. The blade cleaved him in half, straight through the top of his skull and through his torso. The two halves began to fall apart. Then he went up with a roar of flames and an explosion of ash. I turned my head away.
The ax seared my hands. I dropped the weapon and it disappeared before it hit the ground. I pressed my burning palms to my thighs.
Around me, the flames shot up and disappeared. The ropes holding Gracie disintegrated. She dropped to the ground with a heavy thud and didn’t move.
I hurried over to her and crouched to feel her pulse. I couldn’t detect anything.
“Gracie?” I patted her cheek and shoulder. “Are you—”
The church shuddered. I whipped around to the front of the church as the door swung back and forth. The stage trembled and the walls vibrated. Dust fell from the ceiling.
The entire structure began to rock.
I scooped up Gracie as I stood. The shaking around us increased. The pews jostled back and forth and then clattered into each other before falling over.
Struggling to keep my feet under me, I carried Gracie cradled against my chest towards the stairs. The steps disappeared from under me. We fell to the ground in a heap.
Splinters cracked the ceiling as it tore away from the walls.
Gracie, sprawled halfway on top of me on the floor, groaned and rolled her head.
“Gracie, get up,” I said, nudging her. “Come on, we have to get going. The church is coming down.”
“What…” Her eyes flickered open.
“The Reverend is—”
An enormous cracking noise cut off my words. The ceiling shifted and collapsed.
I leapt to my feet, yanking Gracie with me, and charged towards the front door. The walls fell inward. The doorway pelted us with debris as we passed through it and outside. Right behind us, the church crumpled inwards, billowing ash.
We raced along the hill and then spun around, breathing hard. Gracie swayed on her feet, and I tucked her against my side.
“I don’t think the church is going to magically come back this time,” I said.
“What happened…?” She stared up at me with tired, dazed eyes.
“The Reverend is dead,” I said.
“Does that mean…Is Thorn Tree free?”
Clattering came from behind us, and I turned to stare down the hill towards town. The crowd of townspeople stormed towards the hill, and they had multiplied tenfold.
The whole town had come to defend the church.
“I don’t think so…” I whispered.
The crowd halted at the base of the hill and an intense light beam swept over the ground. It came to rest on us.
“There,” the sheriff shouted. “Get them.”
Without a word, Gracie and I bolted into the night, the townspeople on our heels.
The Reverend might be dead, the church might have crumbled, but the final battle had just begun.
20
GRACE
I stumbled as I raced with Mac away from the ruins of the church. My head spun with thoughts:
The Reverend was dead? Had Mac killed him? Was that even possible?
And what did the Reverend’s death mean for the town? If his demise had freed the town, then the crowd in pursuit behind us hadn’t yet received the memo.
My body ached, my joints throbbing with every jolting step. Blood oozed from wounds on my arms and legs. The demons hadn’t been any too gentle when they’d hoisted me upside down on the ropes like a strange crucifixion. My last memory was of the Reverend leering at me before I’d lost consciousness. The next was lying on the floor with Mac with the church coming down around us.
He’d come to save me. As grateful as I was for his intervention, I wished he would finally get it: this town, including me, held no safe space for him. We would destroy him, intentionally or inadvertently.
“Where are we going?” I asked between pants.
Hopefully, he had procured shelter for us. Our little tent in the woods wouldn’t stand a chance against the mob when they caught up to us.
“Tunnels,” he said. “I saw demons carve out a tunnel in the side of a mountain. The map shows a tunnel, I’m pretty sure, so I think we need to go through there and it will lead us out of the town.”
He’d lost me at going into a demon tunnel.
“Not a chance,” I said. “I’ve been in one of those and it collapsed around me. And besides–demons?”
“I don’t want to get any closer to them than necessary, either, but what options do we have?”
What options, indeed.
A thought occurred to me. “Come on. I have a better idea.”
He didn’t slow, didn’t miss a step, as he asked, “A better idea than escaping the town?”
“I don’t think that demon tunnel is going to open outside the forest, sorry,” I said.
Doubt crossed his face, but when I veered away, he came with me.
“There’s an abandoned barn not far from here.” I picked up my pace. “Let’s lose the fuckwit militia back there and hide there until it’s time for Jeopardy.”
“I’ll take How We Die for five hundred.”
I stumbled over rocks and roots barely visible through the darkness and melting snow. Faint lines peeked through bare spots in the ground.
“There are more cracks now,” I said, more to myself than him.
“And a whole damn ravine back there.” He thrusted a thumb over his shoulder. “The town has come undone.”
The back of the abandoned barn loomed up ahead, a dark shadow against the darker sky.
“I haven’t been in here for years, but I’m sure not much has changed.” I pulled ahead, wincing at the pain gnawing through me, and waved for Mac to follow me.
He hesitated, glancing around. I knew what he was thinking. He still wanted to try his demon tunnel theory. I had zero desire to go wandering around inside the mountain after what had happened last time I’d tried that route.
The pounding of footsteps and the murmur of voices grew closer.
“They’re on us,” I hissed.
Mac grabbed my arm. “You look faint.”
The world swayed around me. “I am faint, so that tracks.”
“Come on.” He led me to the back of the barn, and I dropped to the shadows on the ground, my back pressed against the exterior wall.
I knocked away several empty beer bottles that littered the area. The local kids came back here to drink and smoke in secret huddles. I’d been a part of those once.
My stomach rolled as pain flared through me in succession. I put my arm to my forehead and tipped back my head.
It took a moment to identify the tingling on my skin. The fine hairs along my arms stood up as electricity buzzed through me. I lifted one hand in front of me, fingers splayed. Even though no one could see it, magic coursed through my body and arced between my fingers.
I could feel it. I cupped my hands together, holding the magic, reveling in its warmth and power.
I hadn’t been a strong witch, but now that had changed. The battle with the Reverend and demons had somehow allowed my magic to evolve. It raced through me without an outlet, building and growing until it pushed at my skin, begging to be released.
“Gracie?”
I startled, looking up at Mac. He stood in the shadows just in front of me, hands in pockets, staring down at me.
The expression on his face was unreadable.
I gave him a questioning look.
He kicked an empty beer bottle. “I found my brother.”
My heart jolted.
“I missed a lot of things, it seems,” I said slowly.
Hopefully Bobby had been unconscious, or dead, even if that meant I couldn’t proceed with the ritual. Faced with the consequences, I would choose never to let Mac know the truth—at any cost.
I’d hoped I would be stronger than that, but as it turned out, I wasn’t.
He gave me a sad, knowing look, and I wilted back into the shadow, wishing I could merge with them and disappear.
“He confessed to everything.”
I halted. That wasn’t the wording I had expected. I was certain Bobby would tell Mac everything I had done to him since his return, but he’d…confessed?
I dared a look at Mac, and his hard gaze softened. Tears slid down my cheeks. Now was not the time for the truth, but it seemed it was coming anyway.
“I wish you’d have told me yourself,” he said.
I scoffed. “Like you would have believed me.”
He started to protest, but I held up one hand, stopping his words in their tracks.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have believed you,” he said, relenting. “I guess I needed…”
“A journey,” I said quietly. “That’s how it works, isn’t it? There’s a path we have to take to reach the conclusion. We can know the truth, but we don’t accept it until the trial by fire is over. We cannot wish for peace. We have to fight for it.”
He gave me a sad smile. “I love you, Gracie.”
He bent down to kiss me but halted partway, his gaze turned upwards to the barn wall behind me. I twisted around to look at what had caught his attention.
At the top of the wall, a pentagram had been painted.
I rolled my eyes. “Amelia’s coven put it there for some stupid reason or another.”
All her supposed magic hadn’t saved her from a knife blade.
Mac pecked the top of my head and then stood, digging in his jacket. He produced the map he’d brought back to camp after his jaunt to town and unfolded it. His gaze bounced between the paper and the pentagram on the wall.
I eased to my feet, every part of me throbbing, and peered at the map. It was as much nonsense as last time I’d seen it.
Mac held it up and turned in a slow half-circle away from the barn and then back.
“There.” He flicked a spot on the map. “Robert said Dad told him to align the star.”
I shook my head. “He couldn’t have meant this star. Amelia would have been too young for vandalism when your dad left Thorn Tree.”
Mac lowered the map. “Did you see Amelia paint it?”
Now that he’d mentioned it, I’d always just assumed she had put the star there. No one else in town had any apparent motivation to, and she was into that sort of thing.
“Right,” he said, when I didn’t reply. “And look, if you align the star with the barn, this square matches with the headmaster’s house.”
I gave the map a closer look. “All five of the boxes match, one for each mansion.”
“What about this?” Mac asked, pointing to the pair of curved lines on the left side of the map. He sounded like he’d just discovered the Ark. “Isn’t that a tunnel?”
I squinted, one eye closed. “No, that’s…the river.”
His face fell. “Not a tunnel?”
“No…Well, I don’t know, because that insignia is the church, like I told you before. And that’s not where the church is, if we align with the star.”
“But if we align with the church, the map makes even less sense.” He turned the paper a little back and forth. “Something isn’t adding up.”
Noises erupted in the distance.
“They’re closing in on us,” I hissed.
I grabbed Mac’s arm and led him around the opposite side of the barn towards the front. He tucked the map back into the safety of his jacket pocket and followed me to the barn doors. They slid open without effort.
