Authors: L. J. Kendall
Good. It looked like he was still a
little
bit jumpy about her. She didn't like being taken for granted. Faith nudged her side, and she bent down to give her a quick scratch behind the ears.
They crossed the short stretch of grassy lawn – still torn up a bit by all the cars and trucks of the last few days – and then they were on the sealed bitumen drive, heading toward the woodlands. On their way to the front gates.
One thing she wasn't sure of was how bright his light would look to
other
people. To her, even from this distance, it made the nearby trees, their trunks and branches, glow in a big circle all around them. Like a sign saying “here we are, come and get us.” And they hadn’t even reached the trees yet.
'I really think you should put out your light, Godsson. You can hold my hand, if you can't see.'
He stopped, and turned, and looked at her strangely. 'Why do you wish me to walk in darkness with you, Sara? If that is even your name. It isn't, is it?'
How did he know that? '
Uh, well, no, I was going to-'
'Very well. Let us end this, now. Come, Melisande, do your worst.'
'What?' Leeth made frantic
stop
gestures, shaking her head.
But Godsson wasn't looking at her anymore. His gaze had gone distant again, here on the last slightly-raised piece of ground before the road dipped and swooped through the woods. He turned, gesturing in a sweeping circle.
And the whole night sky over their heads blossomed in a kind of wispy rainbow-streaked dome, a wash of utterly beautiful translucent colors: vivid emerald, amethyst, ruby, yellow, blue.
'Ohhh.' She'd seen pictures like this. The aurora. But this one was much closer, much lower, arcing right over them, filling the sky and following the contours of the wall that snaked all around the Institute.
'Oh, Father, they fear me so much they have set barriers of blood and bone for all the wall. How many died, to lock the Deeps inside?'
He lowered his arms, and the glorious light above dimmed and faded.
'Godsson, that was lovely. Do it again?'
She unbent her neck, seeing Godsson staring fiercely at her once more.
'Come, Melisande. Quit your pretense. We are still locked away from the world, I see. Here is as good a place as any I am likely to find. Show yourself. I Call you.'
'Stop, Godsson, no!' She leapt on him, tried to stop his hands from moving. He was preparing some kind of spell against her. Faith growled as Godsson tried to throw her off, but she was both strong and desperate. She felt his hands move, his fingers, and remembered Mr Shanahan's footage of Keepie's friends, burned to a crisp in a few seconds.
Frantically lacing her fingers through his, she pinned them. She knew the finger-wriggles were important, and had to hope that stopping them would stop his spell-casting. His face, inches above hers, suddenly looked scared. From off to their right, Faith growled, low and threatening.
'Stop it, stop it, I'm not Melisande, I'm Leeth! My real name is
Leeth
!'
'L’ith.' He went still, and after a moment, she loosened the grip of her legs around his thighs. Neither of them moved, for long seconds.
Then he bent, slightly, letting her put her feet back on the road. His eyes went spooky again, then even stranger, more intense, like before. Again she felt that unpleasant prickling and then burning, down to her bones.
'Would you
please
stop that?'
Gradually, she felt his tension ease, and she risked letting go of his fingers.
'Alexander called you that, didn't he? “L’ith.” Oh dear. You don't even know.'
'Oh dear?
Oh dear
? What does that mean? Know
what?
'
Behind Godsson, the night sky lit up briefly with a flare of angry red, a briefly-curving arc of light like Godsson had done, but on a smaller scale, and only from a single point, near the front gates.
She felt an awful feeling, swelling all around her. The woods had gotten creepy all of a sudden. Like the three of them were alone in some Eerie Woods. Like they'd just been transported into some horror story. She felt that same strange feeling of her heart sinking, like they were all dropping down in a lift.
'No,
Godsson
, you didn't…'
All around them, above them, dark, sharp edges danced in the tree branches grasping for them.
'But we
killed
Her, Godsson! How can She be back? You big stupid
dummy
!'
She wanted to thump him, but instead she backed up to him, ready to defend him, feeling the familiar tingle charge through her fingers. 'Faith! Here, girl, quick!'
Faith joined them just as his golden dome burst into life all around him, only this time she was inside it, with Godsson and Faith. Bigger than in his cell, much bigger, it touched the tree branches, bending them away as it sprang out. The branches made a pattern of curving evil edges all over the outside.
'She's bigger. How can She be even
bigger
, Godsson?'
And then the edges were inside, all around her, as if there had been no barrier at all, no protective magic circle. Godsson cried out, grabbed Faith's collar, and jumped back. His golden dome shrank inwards and something
pushed,
throwing Leeth clear. Ejected from the circle, invisible threads wrapped around her.
She tore, and thrashed, and felt them part, felt them writhe in pain and whip and slap at her, but
she
was the target this time, no one else. As fast as she tore and cut, more wrapped around her.
'Godsson!' she shrieked. '
Help
me!'
'That's it, L’ith, hold Her!' Godsson began working some kind of magic, grunting with effort, and she felt its impact through the mass still building around her. The weight against her eased slightly, pressed by his attack. It shifted and warped, losing ground. She fought harder, but no longer clawing and slicing, just
holding
, like he'd shown her, though every instinct screamed at her stab, and cut, and tear.
But the longer she fought, the more She seemed different. No whispered words. No sense of subtlety. Just an answering anger, building to rage. They
had
done something to Her, inside. Killed a part of Her. But not all. It continued building to a cresting wave, towering over her, as deep as the night. Beautiful lights blossomed above her, arcing again to cover the sky. But the more Leeth grabbed, and wrapped around her, and resisted, the greater the force grew, like she was feeding it. Like it was wrapping tight around her, becoming inescapable. Like she was binding it
to
her.
Godsson redoubled his own efforts, and as seconds stretched into minutes, her own heartbeat began to dominate her senses. Sweat ran down her face, stinging her eyes, and gradually she grew aware that they were no longer alone. Keepie was there. Professor Sanders. Mr Shanahan.
The aurora was back, too, the light even brighter than before, lighting the whole sky.
Her eyes met Godsson's, and she saw dreadful sorrow, and regret, and he did
something,
and gold and green light as bright as the sun slammed into her, through her.
And she felt it, then. A tug in her belly, like her umbilical cord had grown back, but
inside
, and connected somewhere
else:
and as Godsson's light burned into her she felt it flare into savage joy, but it wasn't hers, not
her
joy, as the brutal beam splintered and shattered into a rainbow, arching and arcing around her like a peacock's tail made of light.
She knew, then, she'd been naïve. They hadn't killed it. It was some magical death pattern thing, and you couldn't kill a death pattern. Not by
killing
it. That might even make it stronger. It'd just keep coming back, again and again, forever.
And it
wanted revenge.
Suddenly Leeth knew what was needed; what the magic demanded. A new life, here, right now, to give to Her; or a new death.
She was pretty good at
one
of those things.
It would've been all kinds of cool: Hunting bad guys with Godsson, or Commander Stone, and Faith
. Her eyes started to swim. Angry, she shook the tears away.
One last time, she met Godsson's eyes, and nodded. Then stopped fighting, stopped resisting.
And let Her in.
Godsson saw what she had done, and his blast focused in on the center of her chest. Something like rainbow wings unfurled from her back, rooted in her beating center.
And when it was all inside, blossoming and about to unfold from her heart like a terrible angel, she made a spade of her right hand, and plunged it into her chest.
Staggered,
screamed
; then forced it in harder.
Chapter 56
Godsson felt it collapse; felt his spell blast through Sara at the instant she died.
They
died. The two, bonded together as one. His magic burned back through the blood link to where She had been birthed, and detonated.
The connection shriveled before Sara's body had begun to crumple to the ground.
'
No!'
Harmon shouted as Faith lifted her muzzle and howled.
Harmon threw himself forwards to heal her – only to be slammed sideways by an invisible force at a gesture from Godsson, thrown from the road to roll stunned and helpless down the small embankment.
Shanahan fired, again and again, and Godsson turned, trying to speak above the sound while bullets ricocheted in random directions from his golden globe. A single complex gesture knocked the security officer unconscious.
Godsson and Professor Sanders faced one another on the quiet stretch of black bitumen, the only light coming from Godsson's protective barrier. Harmon scrambled back up the bank and charged back to them.
Godsson turned to him. 'My apologies, Alexander, but you were about to do something unfortunate.'
Faith howled, again, then crept forward, belly scraping the ground to sniff at Leeth's body, nudging her with her nose. Godsson looked down, then ignored them.
'Unfortunate!
Unfortunate?
' Harmon stared at the madman. 'I can still heal her. I think. Just-'
'Heal her? Are you mad?'
The accusation stunned Harmon into silence.
'The threat is over. My sacrifice was not in vain.'
'
Your
sacrifice-!'
Godsson shrugged. 'Your ward's too. She failed, and gave herself up to the Enemy. Then found that loss of Self more than she could bear, and sinfully took her own life. In that moment, with the Enemy tied to one like herself, locked into our world and subject to our laws:
then
could I finally slay her.'
'That's not what it looked like to… never mind. All right. Thank you. But the threat is ended, so now let me, let
us
both, together, try to heal her.'
'I am sorry, Alexander, but only the Son of God may rise from the dead. Besides, should we raise her, the link may re-form. She is too like d'Artelle, in spirit.'
'Sara is nothing like-'
'
Sara?
Have you yourself not named her “L’ith?” Either way, your small Lilith was too like Melisande. And becoming more so. How long have you been shaping her, Alexander? How long has Sara been connected to the Deeps? How much of Sara was even left, at the end? You had been turning her into an animal. A predator, living on instinct. Unreasoning. What kind of Archetype have you been creating, Alexander? Did you even know what you were doing, playing with things you cannot possibly understand?'
With a visible effort, Harmon controlled himself. 'She may seem a wild thing, but she is in fact remarkably disciplined. As shown by her actions these last few days, especially in helping end the threat which
you
endured for thirteen years. She is
nothing
like d'Artelle. Nothing.
'And I will heal her. Or die trying.'
'My dear Alexander. I am the Son of God. I could literally squash you like an insect.'
At a casual wave of Godsson's hand, Harmon found his weight increasing, multiplying. Slammed down sideways against the ground, he felt his shoulder crack. The weight continued to increase, grinding the bones together. Screaming, he pushed himself backwards, his back and head slamming into the road. Blackness swarmed into his vision; gasping, he fought it down. Each breath a desperate struggle.
Professor Sanders stepped forward, one hand falling from his ear, sweat beaded across his brow. 'Godsson. Please. Return with me to your cell. You can't be certain, even now, that the threat of Melisande's death is truly ended. Wait a year. Just a year, to see that you have indeed defeated your Enemy. The Barriers are still secure. It's the safest place for you. If you are truly God's Son, is that small additional sacrifice too much to ask?'
Godsson seemed to consider the remarks seriously. But then he shook his head. 'No. Were I not certain the threat was ended, then I would do as you suggest. But, no.'
'I'm sorry, Godsson, but you can't leave.'
Godsson smiled at Sanders. 'I think you'll find I can, Professor.' He spared a glance for Harmon, still panting and struggling on the ground. 'But I see you're determined to heal your daughter, Alexander, and we can't risk that. Yet am I a gentle God; I will not hurt you. I'll simply take her body with me. You can collect it for burial in, say, one hour? That would be fitting – after all her efforts, she deserves
some
recognition for them, misguided as they were.'
Another gesture, and his muscles bulged slightly as he increased his physical strength, only a faint crease across his forehead giving any hint that balancing three spells required any concentration. He stepped toward her body, his protective shield staying fixed around him. In its golden glow Leeth's skin looked flushed and healthy.