The Talisman, page 5
Roman switches the knife to his right hand—weaker, but the thumb still works—but he hesitates. The vines cover Christopher everywhere, a solid mass of them. If he cuts him, as he had himself...
"Where?” he pleads. “Christopher, you gotta tell me, pet. I don't know where to begin!"
"Chest,” Christopher whispers, fighting hard. “In the middle, over my heart. Now, Roman. Do it now!"
He grips the knife-hilt hard. “Christopher,” he whispers.
The Talisman laughs, sure that he won't do it.
One tear falls down Roman's cheek. “All right, love. Forgive me."
And he digs the blade deep into the thorns above Christopher's heart.
The vines explode.
The force of it knocks Roman onto his back. What little he can see is bronze-colored, bronze-smelling, a thousand tendrils and coils flailing wildly past his face—
Then stillness.
* * * *
And he opens his eyes.
They're soaked with sweat, the both of him, he and Christopher. Sweat and blood, running down them in thick rivulets into the couch. Before them, Sarah's standing with both hands pressed tight to her mouth, and Marie's sitting frozen with yet another bag of powder in her hands—bronze powder, drifting away into useless piles atop the coffee table.
Behind them, Aurora stands frozen—one foot inside the circle. Breaking it. The faintest of green glows haloes ‘round her head, fading fast as she stares at them. “Christopher?” Her voice is tiny. “Roman?"
Roman hasn't even the strength to shake his head. But he looks down and sees that the Talisman, lying flat on his lap ... the Talisman itself ... is broken down the middle.
"It's over,” Christopher whispers, startling them all. “Roman, it's over."
And he begins to weep, like a broken child. From somewhere, Roman finds the strength to hold him close again and rock with him, sobbing together. ‘Cause it is, isn't it?
He lowers his lips to Christopher's and kisses him, broken and bleeding and all, drinking him deep and clinging tight, never wanting to let go again. Was it magic? Was it what he did, deep in the heart of the Talisman's dark world? Or was it Aurora, who broke the circle—unlocked the riddle?
He doesn't know. Right now, he doesn't care.
Cause it's over, and he's holding Christopher, the real Christopher, once again. And he'll get stronger, healthier now. He's gonna mend until he's his old self again.
If he could pray, he'd thank God for the mercy of it.
For it's done.
Finally done.
And he ... yes, he ... and Christopher ... they've won.
END
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Willa Okati, The Talisman
