Seeing Light (The Seraphina Parrish Trilogy) (25 page)

Her eyes meet mine. “I made him who he was, helped him to a leadership position, and rationed him aqua vitae, extending his life. But now that you’ve matured into a Chosen, I can finally stop this charade.” She wipes her lips of him. “Now I can take control of the Society, and merge it with the Underground. Everyone will do my bidding, and I will control all of time.”

She kicks the Grand Master and he teeters forward, hitting the ground. Slowly suffocating, his body convulses as he claws at his neck, trying to set himself free.

“You forgot one thing.” I step forward, pivoting on one foot before landing a kick to her gut.

“What’s that?” She lets out a small
oomph.
Recovering quickly she rotates, connecting a foot to my side.

I leap backward, minimizing the power of her blow, and grit out, “I’m going to fulfill the prophecy.”

A ceremonial guard has fallen dead on the ground near me, and I take up his weapon, a poleax, and swing it in her direction. She leans away from the curved blade each time I slice the air, so I adjust and jab the end at her, hoping the piercing spike mounted at the end will stab her through.

Now that I have the upper hand, I have just a moment to see that Turner—thank God, the real Turner—sits on top of the casket, trying to open it from above. Muffled screams can barely be heard from inside the box as flames catch the wood bottom on fire, sending fiery fingers racing across its surface to lick their way up the side.

“Swing!” I yell to Turner.

He must hear me because he plants his feet on either side of the box, grabs the chain, and shifts his weight until the box swings back and forth. Cerberus and Exeter join Cece’s side, so now it’s three against one. I can’t hold them off much longer so I do the last thing I can to distract them—I take out the vial of aqua vitae and hold it up.

As the three stiffen in surprise and stare, I toss it to the ground at their feet. In an utter frenzy, they dive for it.

“Release it now!” I yell.

Turner releases the chain from the hook and the enormous wooden box flies through the air, landing directly on Cece and her team. To avoid its path, I dive into the pool of anointment oil and pop up to see that the box has crushed Cece and her team. A mess of bloody arms and legs bend in awkward positions beneath the pile of flaming splintered wood.

Desperate to check on my teammates, I rush through the oil and back onto the platform. Sam and Bishop lie on top, partially unwrapped from their bindings. Grasping Sam’s shoulders, I haul her to safely, and then return to pull out Bishop. As I’m struggling with Bishop’s weight, Macey appears beside me and nudges my shoulder, grinning at me as she grabs one of his arms to help.

With Sam and Bishop pulled away to safety, I scramble back to the platform and frantically dig through the debris, searching. Beneath several flaming wooden boards, I find Turner. The real Turner. He’s moving; he’s still alive. With all my strength, I lift and drag him from the wreckage, and then collapse with him in my arms. I sit up and pull his back against my chest, hugging him to me as I look over his shoulder at the mess, hardly capable of believing that this is over.

“You’re okay, I know you’re okay,” I whisper urgently in his ear. Part prayer, part mantra, whatever it is, I have to believe it.

He groans.

“You can’t go anywhere now, you know. I wished for this.” Pulling away, I look at his face, bruised and bloody.

Turner grimaces a little and then shifts around to face me as he smiles at me. “I wished for this too.”

“But where have you been all this time? I thought you were dead.”

“Long story. Let’s just say that Cece took a liking to me, and I played along until I could make it back to you.”

“Ick,” I say with a sincere shudder.

He laughs, deep and heavy. “The red hair was very sexy.”

“I hate you.”

“Your kisses say otherwise.” A smile plays across his dirty but handsome face as he reaches out a finger to trace the curve of my cheek.

“I love you.” Looking into his steel-gray eyes, I’m certain that this is real love, urged only by my beating heart, not my DNA. I lean forward to kiss him playfully, happily, and hug him close, wrapping my arms tightly around him, glancing over his shoulder at the scene playing out around us.

A movement catches my attention. An undead, yet severely injured Cece races forward with the poleax, ready to spear Turner through the back. Instinctively I shove him out of the way just in time, but the knife at the tip penetrates my chest, puncturing my body. I gasp and look down as liquid warmth drains from me. Despite the blood seeping through the fabric of my clothes, I feel dizzy but strangely feel no pain.

Above me there’s instant chaos, but I ignore it, focusing on the light that rushes my soul and finally, the real love that consumes my heart.

::43::
Spirit Eyes

My soul floats from my body and hovers above it. At least, I think it’s my soul, I’m not sure, but through it I can see everything as it’s happening below. My viewpoint is from the ceiling, an aerial view like that of a soaring bird, just like I could see when I became Chosen.

The fighting has stopped, and everyone has laid down his or her weapons. Ray, Macey, Bishop, Sam, and Turner—all those that I love—are safe. Cece’s body lies in an unmoving heap on the ground right next to mine. She probably used her dying breath to kill me. I suppose it’s only fitting that we die together since we’re the same, made from the same skin and blood. The world is better off without us.

I float a little higher, gliding right out of the top of the Grand Lodge until I have a full view of Gibeon. The city is quiet; streamers and balloons have fallen, decorating the city like confetti.

Effortlessly, I move in a new direction to hover directly above the pit of Nocturna. I hover here until the suns sinks into evening, settling on the horizon in watercolor splashes of pinks until the sky turns to velvet indigo. It’s not the twinkling stars that make me happy and hold me here, but other tiny dots. With my new eagle eyes, or maybe spirit eyes, I see these little dots move toward the surface, ascending the stairs of the pit of Nocturna. With my death, by making the ultimate sacrifice for love, I’ve set the inhabitants of Nocturna free, just as the prophecy called for. Maybe my heart is pure after all.

I watch my people climb toward the surface for what seems like hours, waiting until I see them all emerge over the pit’s edge. One by one they appear; with each step their wrinkles and age spots begin to fade, and they stand a little straighter, making their way purposefully to Gibeon.

Charlotte steps into view, a child once again, and Mona and her husband, Joe, crawl over the rim just behind her—alive, and their true age. Terease and her crew appear, and then Stu climbs out and turns to help Perpetua. Thousands follow, one by one, and gather just outside the city limits, consoling each other and crying with happiness.

Despite the fact I no longer have a body, the sight makes me want to cry tears of joy. God, I’ve cried so much and hurt so much. I never realized I could change so much, that I truly had it in me to stand up, to make a difference, and to fight back. I did this amazing thing, I actually fulfilled the prophecy, and by doing so set not only the inhabitants of Nocturna free, I set
all
Wanderers free. My heart swells with happiness.

A child born unto a Wanderer and Normal died, but not just any death. I died protecting the one I truly loved with a pure heart. For the first time in a long time, I could feel the emotions of a Normal, and know what was real and what was not. That’s all I ever wanted, to be free to make my own decisions and to control my own destiny.

Though I long to bask in my contentment, I feel a tugging and know it’s time to move on. I’m ready now; I accept it. I’ve done everything I came to do and this fills me with love and contentment, so when the light comes for me, I welcome the love that floods my eyes.

The pull becomes more defined and I follow it, like I’m tethered to a string, and I glide with it. It guides me along and I’m so content that I close my eyes, allowing the gentle tug to deliver me wherever I’m meant to go.

Maybe I’ll fade into nothing, or perhaps I’ll fade into the sparkling stars. I think I might like it there.

Or maybe…maybe I’ll become one of the fireflies.

::44::
Heaven

I’m swirling, being forced into a funnel, and I rock back and forth with the centrifugal force. Though I don’t mind the feel of it, it’s as though I’m returning to a fullness that I haven’t felt in a while.

There’s a cranking noise. Suddenly I’m aware of a body being rocked back and forth under a dull rumble.

My body. A real one. A live one. I tentatively lift a fingertip, surprised that it actually works, and then wiggle my bare toes. Fabric shifts over my body.

A cacophony fills my ears, overwhelming me, and eventually I discern it’s the sound of cheering and clapping. And there are smells, oddly enough; I inhale and detect the scents of violets and sweet oranges.

Suddenly I cough, inhaling smoke, and at this strangeness, I open my eyes to find I’m lying in a clear glass box, looking at puffy clouds floating in the sky above me. Flying Animate beasts circle above, flapping their widespread wings. I allow my head to fall to the side. There, on the other side of the glass, many people stand crowded around, watching me. Some are smiling, clapping, or even crying. Separating himself from the crowd, one person steps forward. The one that matters most. Turner.

When he looks at me the way he is now, I think that maybe this is heaven.

As he reaches me, he opens the door to the glass box, and all the smoke roiling within rushes out, allowing the fresh air in. Turner steps to my side and smiles. “And I thought the last time I saw you was the happiest day of my life. Little did I know.” He reaches in, offering me his hand.

Even though I’m dazed, I gently slide my hand into his warm grasp. I’m still not sure if he’s real, if I’m real, or even if this is a dream, but whatever this is, as long as I’m with him I’m happy. As I sit up, the flowers and orange slices that had adorned my body fall away. I look over my shoulder, glancing back into the box. A red cloak sits piled in the corner, along with a monk’s robe and a dog collar. I know what those items signify, but I’m still unclear what’s going on.

“I’m—” My voice is hoarse, so I clear my throat. “I’m confused.” I look around, a little shy with so many people staring. I lean toward Turner and whisper, “What’s happened?” I hesitate on my next words. “I remember dying.” With alarm, I look down at my chest. There’s no blood, no hole from a poleax, and every part of me feels refreshed. I reach for my back but there are no stitches, and I’ve been cleaned and dressed in a white eyelet dress, just like the one I dreamed I was wearing the night Mona told me I was a Wanderer so long ago.

I look up to Turner with wide eyes, seeking an explanation.

“Well, technically, I guess you were. Or you really couldn’t have been since we believe you drank the aqua vitae. But then there’s that bit about you fulfilling the prophecy and setting all the Wanderers and the people of Nocturna free. You’ve been very busy since I was gone.”

He smiles with an impish grin that I want to kiss, then leans in and whispers, “I barely breathed until you were whole again.” He squeezes my hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses a kiss to the palm of my hand. His touch awakens me from the inside, electrifying my heart.

I swing my legs out over the ledge, letting them dangle. Turner lifts me from the box and gently places me on the ground. Still unsure about what’s happening, I keep my arms around him. He seems to sense my unease and hugs me back.

Peeking over my shoulder, back inside, I quickly realize that this is not just any glass box, but a contraption. The un
fragmentation machine. The one invented by Elijah Vanderpool, designed to put relics back together, but also, as I recall in my most recent conversation with him—for unfragmenting Wanderers.

“The items in there—the red cloak, the dog collar, the monk’s robes…” I point. They’re all pieces of Cece, Exeter, and Cerberus.

“All very strangely a part of you, returned to your lovely vessel.” Turner taps a finger to my nose.

“Well, that’s going to take some time to absorb.” I smile, thrilled to be rid of them, finally free for good.

“For me as well. Although,” he teases, “there was something insanely sexy about that red hair.”

“You mentioned that already.” I smack his arm.

We’re not left to ourselves for long as everyone who had been watching steps forward, surrounding us. There are smiles on every face I see. Some faces I recognize and many I don’t. Turner squeezes my hand and with that reassurance, I step forward.

Little Charlotte, Bishop and Turner’s younger sister, rushes forward. “Sera, these are for you. I picked them myself in the hanging gardens.” She lifts a bouquet and I take it.

“They’re lovely. Thank you so much.” Charlotte smiles with her eyes much like her brothers. Mona and her husband, Joe, step forward and hug me too. “I’m so happy you’re all safe,” I say as I choke out a sob, looking from one to the other. “I was heartbroken to leave you in Nocturna.”

“I never worried, not once, darling,” Mona says, gently resting a palm on my cheek.

Leaning into her hand, I sniff back my tears and manage a smile. “Now I understand why you kept so many secrets. I could have never understood until I experienced everything for myself.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she says. “Your mother made me promise to keep you on a certain path. She said you wanted it to be so. She believed you would be our best defense against Cece and that you would be the one to set us free. She always believed in you and was proud of you. She told me you would correct her wrongs and she was right. Everything worked out the way it was supposed to.” Her hand falls away and she wraps it around Charlotte’s back and squeezes the child to her side. “Thank you for saving my family.”

I nod and look to the ground, a little embarrassed at the attention. My time with each person is not long as I’m pushed forward through the crowd. Many hands pat my shoulder, or drift over my arm as congratulations are offered.

That’s when Gabe appears at our side. “Moon pie!” he screeches with excitement. He places his hands on my shoulders and offers me a kiss on each cheek, European style, with the kind of excitement that only Gabe can supply. “Are you ready? Everyone’s waiting.”

“Ready for what?” I glance between him and Turner.

“For your special day.” Gabe’s face splits into a huge smile as he bounces on his toes and claps his hands together excitedly.

Before I have time to respond to this or even consider what he means, they urge me forward. That’s when I realize we’re standing on a plateau, at the very top of a mountainous set of stairs. As I step to the edge, I can see the city of Gibeon and all its inhabitants who are waiting below as they erupt in a deafening roar of cheers. I clutch the flowers tighter to my chest, overwhelmed by the moment.

I squeeze Turner’s hand. “What’s going on?”

“They’re all here for you, to thank you for setting them free and returning them to paradise.” He has to speak loudly in my ear for me to hear him.

Overcome by emotion, I gasp out a joyous sob. Turner slides his hand around my back and tugs me close, and I drop my head on his shoulder, looking out over the city of people who are here to thank me for what I’ve done.

Gabe leans in from the other side and steals my empty hand and raises it above our heads, shaking it about as though we’ve won a gold metal at the Olympics. At this, the thunderous sound of the crowd explodes. As if on cue, sparkling confetti falls from the sky, fluttering over us, tickling my face and sticking in my hair.

“It’s time to go.” Gabe urges us to walk down the stairs.

Turner and I descend them together. He encourages me to wave to the crowd, even though it feels weird to do so. I surely never expected this because I don’t think I even thought I would survive. At the foot of the steps, a horse-drawn carriage awaits. Animate horses adorned with long curling feathers, draped velvet, and jewels stand at attention as Gabe hops up onto the coachman’s seat and grabs the reins. Turner opens the door, helping me inside, but I’m surprised when he shuts it behind me.

“Aren’t you coming?” I turn and lean out the window.

“I’ll meet you on the other side.” I raise an eyebrow at this. I don’t want to be away from him for another second. “I promise.” He laughs with a deep rumble that leaves my heart aching. “There’s a surprise waiting for you.” He slaps the side of the carriage twice and it lurches forward with creaking wheels.

“Okay,” I say with reluctance and wave.

When I settle back and place my bouquet on the seat, I’m surprised to see Bishop sitting across from me in the far corner. His face is unreadable as his gaze glides over my features, but finally he smiles and leans forward for a hug. “I can’t believe the machine worked. Thank the Masters you’re okay.”

“You’re not mad at me?” I stiffen at the thought.

He leans away with his hands holding my upper arms. “Of course not. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

I relax in relief.

Bishop’s gaze connects with mine. “Thank you, Sera. I always knew you’d give me my family back. And since you’ve set us free, I understand everything now. You and Turner make sense,” he says with passion. “We were never meant to be more than friends.” He squeezes my hands. “I think, in my heart, I knew it from the beginning.”

“You did?” Though I’ve felt our connection slipping with each minute we closed in on the Oaths ceremony, I was unsure if he experienced the same thing. Since I was siphoning away his Protecting abilities to become a Chosen, our binding ties were apparently being slowly severed.

He nods and looks away to focus on a distant point. “Remember when I told you that I thought you would never choose me over Turner? That’s why I went to watch you from afar at the train station the day you arrived in Chicago. I never meant to steal you away from him.” He looks out the window and bites the inside of his cheek. “And as strange as I feel saying the words, I have to admit that I’m relieved that we’re both free to choose love for ourselves.” His gaze finds mine again with a simple smile. “I’m already starting to forget exactly what it felt like, but I remember it was agonizing not to have you for myself.”

Nodding, I squeeze his hands. “And you have no idea what it was like for me, to know that I was hurting you and couldn’t control my actions. I’m so sorry for everything. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he reassures me. “When I see the two of you together, it just feels right.”

I look deeply into his eyes, finding only friendship and affection there, not romantic love and hurt. To know that Bishop is truly free of me eases my mind. He kisses my forehead and relaxes back into his seat with a grin.

“Thank you. That means so much to me.”

At our confessions and the comfortable silence that follows, the activities around us creep back into the moment.

“You should wave to your fans.” He laughs and gestures out the window. The carriage moves slowly but no matter how far we travel, the amount of people standing and cheering has not thinned. Together we lean to the window and I wave until my hand hurts, feeling strangely like a royal princess. When we finally reach a bridge with no sign of people, I lean back inside and we laugh at the craziness of where we were the other morning, freezing in Xavier’s garage, and where we are now.

Finally the carriage halts and when I peek out the window again, I’m shocked to see where we are.