Sorceress (23 page)

Waves gushed through the doors. Water broke the panes of the windows. Trickles of water ran across the floor, finding each other and becoming puddles. Simon grabbed Kim and towed her to her feet. Still dazed, she fought him at first, then sagged against his shoulder.

He held her tightly.
God, she feels like skin and bones.
All this time he’d spent angry with Kim—trying to make himself hate her—and really she’d given up everything to protect their daughter.
We’ll fix this
, he swore to her silently.

First they had to live through the night.

“Simon!” Faye shouted. She had run to the front door, which was shuddering in the lock, water spurting through the smallest cracks at the hinges. “Help me!”

He picked Kim up in his arms, took her halfway up the staircase, and set her down. She hardly seemed to notice. Then he ran to Faye’s side. Together they put their backs against the door, trying to keep the water from gushing in so fast they would drown. But no. That couldn’t be possible.

Could it?

“We’re in a two-story house,” he gasped. “Elizabeth could flood the whole thing?”

“She could drown us in this house and set it on fire at the same time,” Faye said. “Welcome to witchcraft.”

“We can’t let this happen. If Nadia’s hurt—”

“She won’t be. I believe in her. We’re not letting it happen.”

Faye couldn’t know that, not really, but it helped him just to hear it.

The door bucked against them so hard it seemed to hit Simon in the back of his head. Although the world went fuzzy for a moment, he braced his legs and pushed back harder. Next to him, Faye spread her arms wider, attempting to balance.

He could just see into the great room, the floor of which was already covered in water a few inches deep. Mateo sat on the floor, letting the water flow around him as he stared up at Elizabeth. “What’s the matter?” Mateo said, a smile on
his face. “Your magic isn’t working as well as you thought? Nadia said even your powers had a limit, and breaking the worlds to bring the One Beneath here—that’s as much as you can do.”

“Not for long,” Elizabeth said, so flatly, with such certainty, that Simon shuddered.

Nadia could sense the One Beneath all around them. Literally—this realm both enclosed Him and was Him. She imagined she could hear blood rushing through great veins, or the heavy low pumping of an enormous heart. But those were illusions, her mind trying to make sense of something completely outside human experience.

Her only comfort was Verlaine, who held on to her with all her might. That was an act of will, not of strength; physical effort meant nothing here. It was Verlaine’s determination and courage that bound her to Nadia—that and the incredible depth of love around and within her.

Not all that love was the result of Asa’s spell, either. Here, in the absolute darkest place anyone could be, Verlaine’s goodness shone more brightly than ever before.

I hope I can be as strong for her
, Nadia thought.

She looked upward—again, an illusion, but her spirit sought Mateo and would find him if he were here. They’d talked about the bonds of his oath; the same power that condemned him should be enough to hold Elizabeth in place. If Nadia was wrong, or if Elizabeth had simply struck him down, Mateo would soon be here in hell alongside her,
without any hope of escape.

Yet Mateo wasn’t with her, not yet. Nadia would have felt relieved if the strangeness whipping around her, reverberating within her, were not becoming more chaotic and violent by the second.

To Verlaine she shouted, “When I tell you to, let go of me. And scream for Asa as loudly as you possibly can.”

“I don’t want to let go of you!” Verlaine’s face was just in front of hers, her silver-gray hair twisting and floating in the unearthly winds.

“You have to.” For the last terrible moment, Nadia would have to stand alone.

At that moment, the darkness around them shifted. Took form. It seemed to Nadia that she was staring into a face—expressionless, blank, more like a mask than anything human, and yet more hideous than anything she’d ever imagined.

The One Beneath.

Nadia wanted to close her eyes. She didn’t. Staring directly into that terrible face, she reached inward, drawing upon her mother’s hate—pure hatred untouched by even the slightest suggestion of love. It blazed like a furnace.

That hate spiraled within her, taking a form that could only have existed here in the demonic realm.

The ultimate weapon is forged from hate. The ultimate weapon.

“Now,” Nadia said, pushing Verlaine away. “Now!”

NOT YET, NOT YET, I WANT TO FIND ASA, BUT I DON’T
want to be alone in hell, and this is definitely hell, not yet—

“Now!” Nadia shouted, and Verlaine let go.

It felt less like being pushed away by Nadia, more like being yanked back from her in a dozen directions at once. Verlaine tumbled head over heels, sideways, and for a moment she thought the forces might pull her apart until she was only so much sinew and bone.

She stayed in one piece, or she was too dizzy to even tell she’d been ripped apart. Verlaine flung her arms out in an attempt to steady herself. There was nothing for her to brace herself against, no way for her to know up from down; Nadia was invisible to her, lost in the twisting chaos of this realm. And yet, when she opened her arms, Verlaine knew somehow she was more balanced than she’d been before.

It’s really not because of anything I did physically
, she realized.
It’s because I’m doing something, instead of letting this place toss me around.

I have power here if I act.

The surge of hope she felt was visible—a kind of white electricity burning along her skin, and it was the only light Verlaine needed. She drew in a breath (
Oh, hey, hell has air
), let herself want and hope with all her strength, and screamed out her love’s true name.

“ASAEL!”

The waters surged higher around Elizabeth, forming a whirlpool with her at its vortex. From all around the room, the few items remaining were drawn into the currents—a china vase, the golden rope tassel of a curtain, even an oil painting in a gilded frame.

Mateo Perez hung on to the crown molding around the archway between this room and the foyer. His body was now suspended in the water, on the verge of being torn away from his handhold. Then the currents would bring him to her, and she would . . .

How best to kill him?
Angry as she was, Elizabeth saw no need for spite. Only for speed.

Even now, Nadia Caldani had descended to the depths of hell, armed with hatred so pure that she could destroy the bridge between the worlds. Elizabeth had to protect the One Beneath’s path while the worlds were merging. Once the earthly and demonic realms were one, all Nadia’s weapons would be useless. This moment was the last moment
of danger the One Beneath would ever know. She would defend Him. But first she had to follow Nadia—and she couldn’t, so long as she was tethered to Mateo Perez.

Once Mateo died, he would become a demon. Her slave.

Maybe she would bring him into hell with her, make him watch Nadia die.

Elizabeth raised her hands, quickening the current. Mateo’s hands were torn free, and she smiled in satisfaction as he floated toward her.

But he grabbed her hair and shoved her underwater.

She clutched him down with her, and for a long moment they struggled together, each trying to hold the other under. The powerful currents tossed them both back and forth; when they popped to the surface, Elizabeth couldn’t stop Mateo from sucking in a breath, because she was as desperate for air as he was.

There were spells to help her breathe underwater, but she had no time to cast them. No strength or focus leftover from defending herself against Mateo—this would not be settled by magic, but through brute force.

Mateo coughed water from his lungs. The smile on his face was terrible. “Together just like we were when we were kids, huh?”

Elizabeth clutched the collar of his shirt; he grabbed her shoulders so hard that his fingers felt like they could press through her flesh. She realized he would drown with her before he would let her go.

That meant he was willing to die. Good. The advantage was hers.

“Friends to the end,” he said, and dragged them both back down.

“ASAEL!”

The word reverberated through the entire dimension around Verlaine; she could feel it as surely as she could feel heat on her skin. A demon’s true name had power, Nadia had said—but only to the servants of hell. Within hell, where everyone was a servant, the word alone could start something like an earthquake.

Verlaine strained for an answer, hoping to see Asa appear in front of her. Or to hear his voice calling her name. Nothing. She was more alone in this creepy, warped void than before, and she thought,
That’s it. I’m lost.

Then she felt the faintest, softest brush against her palm.

Another, against her belly.

Another, in the curve of her neck.

Was someone touching her? The sensation was more like a silk scarf drifting next to her skin—ethereal and lovely. Here, amid all this ugliness, the softness was as welcome as it was strange.

Verlaine’s eyes widened as she felt the next brush along her arm, and for the first time saw the shadow. Even in this twisting darkness, she could tell the shadow was different—black on black, but a kind of smoke that turned and swirled and sought—sought her.

“Asael,” she whispered. Although she wanted to call him Asa, the name she thought of as his, she remembered what
Nadia had said. Here, nothing but Asa’s real name could be spoken.

The smoke continued to darken as it finally took shape. These two wisps became legs; the cloud near her chest became a torso. And resting against her cheek was an oval cloud that had no features, but Verlaine knew it was a face.

This was what was left of him: spirit, not flesh. Only the outline of a human being. But whatever Asa was now, whatever he had endured for her sake, he had heard her call. He had answered. He’d found her, and she’d found him, and now maybe they could get out of here.

But he was in so much pain. So confused and afraid. More than anything, Verlaine wanted to comfort him.
Hold on, I’m here, I’m with you, not much longer.

Saying any of that would damn him forever.

Her skin still glowed slightly with the blue light that Nadia had said was all that stolen love. However, Verlaine could tell the light had dimmed considerably since this journey had begun. It was like—like hell was burning it off. Consuming it.

Which meant soon it would consume her.

“Asael,” Verlaine whispered. His name would have to say everything she felt. She put her arms around the shadow—a gesture she thought was futile—and was startled to feel Asa there. He had some kind of substance, then. Maybe he really could get out of hell in one piece.

That should have reassured Verlaine. Instead it panicked her. Before this, she’d been willing to dare anything. The
fate of the world was in the balance, which meant it was time to suck it up. And Verlaine had found it easy to risk it all for her friends and for love. But now that she had Asa back, she had something to lose.

She held him tighter and prayed for Nadia to come.

Nadia heard Verlaine calling to her—not with her voice, with everything else that she was—but couldn’t answer. She was too busy forging her weapon.

The hate built and built within her, like a volcano bubbling with lava and on the verge of eruption. It was so tempting to give in to her anger, to add her loathing of Elizabeth and the One Beneath to the fire.

She didn’t. Nadia knew that if she did that, she could only add normal human hate. Her hate would be tempered by all the other emotions she could feel, especially love. That meant the weapon she was creating would be weakened. For this, purity was the key.

It was her mother’s hate she felt. All the venom that came from knowing herself tricked, realizing her empty, meaningless life was for nothing.

By now the One Beneath’s face had become clear, and more malevolent—like He was becoming infinitely vaster in front of her eyes. Now that she could see Him more clearly, Nadia thought His face looked less like a mask, more like a skull.

A skull seen from the inside.

Imagine it as a sword
, Nadia thought. She came from a
world of tangible things, so she needed to believe she had a tangible weapon. That was her only chance. If she could destroy that bridge, hurt Him, make Him turn back—that would be enough. Maybe that would undo Elizabeth’s plans, or delay them long enough for her to come up with a real way to defeat them.

The darkness mocked her. No sound, no change in the still, dead face that spread across the entire void—and yet Nadia knew the One Beneath was laughing, to show her His contempt.

She also knew He wouldn’t do that if she had no chance.

I’m sworn to Him. If I strike Him down, I may die along with Him.

That wasn’t a reason to hesitate. Just a moment to think of her dad, and Cole, and even her mom. And Mateo.

I love you.

Nadia envisioned the blade, put all her force behind it, and struck.

The roar deafened her. Surrounded her. A cry of the greatest rage and pain she had ever known—beyond anything she had imagined—and for a moment she thought the force of it could tear the flesh from her bones. Maybe that was how the One Beneath would take her down: killing her with the power of His own fury.

But Nadia stayed alive, while everything around her began to collapse.

Darkness turned into nothingness—it wasn’t a difference she could describe, but she could sense it. The spiraling chaos
all around her became even more disordered as it slowed. It was like a great machine was breaking down, shedding gears, and stopping. She’d done more than destroy the bridge to the mortal world; she’d hurt the One Beneath . . .

No. The One Beneath wasn’t merely wounded.

He was dying.

That’s impossible
, Nadia thought wildly. Wasn’t it? She’d never even tried to figure out how to do it, because she’d believed it couldn’t be done. Surely the unearthly din around her had confused her, was making her imagine things that weren’t true.

And yet she could see it happening all around her. The One Beneath was collapsing, dragging the whole dimension of hell down with Him.

He took my mother’s ability to love
, Nadia thought in a daze.
He made her able to hate perfectly. He forged the weapon I used to kill Him.

He’s dead.

He’s
dead
.

She felt one split second of triumph before she realized:
If we’re still in hell when the One Beneath dies, the chaos will be more than we can survive.

Mateo’s lungs burned with the need for air, but he refused to come up. If he came up, Elizabeth would come up, too, and killing her was more important than staying alive.

They were tangled up with each other now, clothes torn, eyes open underwater as they stared at each other in mutual
fury. Her fingernails had gouged deep cuts in his arms, and by this time his blood had mingled with the water.

Last time we surfaced, the water was chest-deep. Soon there won’t be any air left in the house. Soon I can stop fighting and just let her die.

Somehow it seemed almost right to die with Elizabeth. His mind knew all those childhood memories of them playing together were fake; his heart couldn’t put them aside as easily. Mateo felt as though he’d lived his entire life by her side, and now he’d end by her side, too.

After that—he’d be made a demon. He’d be a slave to the One Beneath, or some other Sorceress. He’d be controlled as severely as Asa had been controlled, and punished as cruelly. Mateo didn’t care anymore. All he cared about was making sure that Elizabeth died, and Nadia lived.

Elizabeth writhed in his grip, and he felt a moment’s elation at the thought that she was finally weakening—

—when two strong arms seized him by the shoulders and pulled him to the surface.

“No!” Mateo shouted. But it was too late. Faye Walsh, behind him, was already trying to tow him to safety, and Elizabeth’s head was above the water.

Shoulder-deep.

“Let me go,” Mateo protested.

Faye shook her head. “You can’t die to defeat Elizabeth. She’s not worth it.”

“Someone has to!” Then it hit him. “Not you.”

“No. Not Faye.” Mr. Caldani managed to get through
the water to them, so that he stood between them and Elizabeth, who was already struggling through the current back to them. “This is my job.”

“Simon, don’t.” Faye’s voice shook with effort and fear. “You have children who need you. Me—I’ve got no one anymore, not anyone who’ll miss me—there’s no reason you should—”

“Nadia’s my daughter,” Mr. Caldani said. He took Faye’s hand, like he was trying to thank her even as he pulled her back. “That makes this my work.”

Mateo intended to fight this out if he had to, but that was the moment when Elizabeth began to scream.

Nadia cried out, “ASAEL!”

Instantly Verlaine appeared in front of her, cradling a frail shadow that must have been what was left of Asa’s soul. As Nadia had hoped, Verlaine’s love had bound Asa to her so tightly that summoning him had brought them both.

“Nadia! What happened?” Verlaine’s hair wreathed out around her, as if it were floating. “It’s all falling apart!”

“Hang on!” With that, Nadia reached upward, outward, envisioning the world she knew in every detail.

The big oak tree outside her bedroom window.

The sound of Cole’s giggling.

The smell of hot cocoa.

Winter wind in Chicago, sharp enough to cut through a down jacket and make her shiver.

Dad’s arms around her when he’d welcomed her back home.

The scent of sunblock lotion on her warm skin as she walked along the beach.

Mom at the doorway, suitcase in hand, saying, “It’s better this way.”

Bolognese sauce warm and rich on her tongue, but still needing just a touch more oregano.

Trying to laugh about the pictures her friends drew on her cast when really her broken arm still hurt terribly.

Verlaine asking if Nadia was an alien, and welcoming her to planet Earth.

That time some guy on the “L” inexplicably decided she was Selena Gomez and tried to get her autograph.

Her very first memory, laughing and kicking out her little toddler feet while Mommy pushed her gently, and asked if she wanted to swing even higher.

Mateo framing her face in his hands, looking at her with all the love she could ever have imagined someone could feel for her, and bringing his lips to hers.