Witch & Curse (32 page)

Holly's uncle was another story; he started pulling the two of them toward the closest exit and saying, “Keep behind me.”

With an aggressiveness she hadn't known he possessed, he began pushing people out of his way as he continually checked on her and Amanda over his shoulder. He was like a lion protecting his cubs.

Holly said to Amanda, “We have to do something!”

“Don't panic,” Richard assured them. “I'll get you out of here.”

The two looked at each other; then they clasped hands and Holly whispered a Spell of Glamour in ancient Latin. Then she added, “Uncle Richard, go outside. We are safely with you.”

She wriggled her other hand free. Amanda did the same, and Richard barrelled along, apparently unaware that they were no longer with him.

Halfway to the stage they found Nicole, struggling against the crowd. Her beautiful gown was torn in several places and she was out of breath.

“Did I just see you bite someone?” Holly asked her cousin.

Amanda had a more pressing question. “Where's Tommy?”

The three raced backstage.

An unearthly shriek rose as a pillar of fire erupted where they had just been standing. The heat from it washed over Holly, blistering her skin. She threw herself blindly forward, trying to put as much distance between herself and the hungry flames as possible. Even as her heart began slamming around in her chest like a frightened bird, she clenched her fists and felt power rising inside her.

Amanda made it to the stage a heartbeat ahead of them. She pulled herself onto it and had disappeared from sight before Holly could stop her. Nicole
bounded onto the stage and Holly began to follow her. She stopped in her tracks, though, when she heard Nicole chanting.

It sounded like a protection spell of some sort. They were going to need a lot of protection, but not half as much as Jer was or the people still milling about trying to find an exit. A memory flashed back to Holly. She remembered her vision of Isabeau running through the burning barn, doors locking behind her, trapping everyone inside.

She stared again at the people. Five minutes before, they had been watching their friends and children and grandchildren in a play. None of them had asked for this. None of them could have expected this. They were just going about their lives when they were struck down.

Jer had done this. He had told them to stay, play it out. . . .

As she stood staring, Amanda reappeared with Tommy in tow. He was ashen and coughing, but otherwise seemed fine. Holly gestured to one man who was on fire. He was running crazily around in circles while three men tried to pull him to the floor to help put out the flames. Blinded by his pain, he fought them off, never realizing that they were trying to help. He would never know how close he had
come to being saved as the flames engulfed his body forcing the others to scatter.

“It's all happening again!” Holly shouted. “The massacre! These people, they're ours to
protect
. We can't let them die. We have to stop it.”

The three girls joined hands as the blanket of smoke grew thicker. Holly said, “Open the eyes of those who do not see and open the doors and set them all free.”

Holly felt the magic flowing through her, tingling where her hands clasped with her cousins'. Suddenly, all the doors to the auditorium burst open and the haze lightened enough for people to begin to see well enough to stumble outside. In the distance, sirens wailed. The fire engines were on the way.

“Tommy, help them. Make sure they get out, and more importantly, make sure you do,” Amanda instructed him.

He stared from one to another before nodding his head in reluctant agreement. Without another word he jumped off the stage and disappeared in the throng of people.

A shudder rippled up Holly's spine. Acting on instinct she leaped to the side, pulling her cousins with her. Flames emerged once more where they had been standing.

Nicole calmly reached up and extinguished her burning hair. “Well, girls, let's stay on the move.”

“Great, but are we looking inside or out?” Amanda asked.

A whisper brushed through Holly's mind. It was faint and she strained to hear it; ignoring the discussion her cousins were having, she tried to block everything out but the whisper. It came again.

“Inside.”

But was it a trap, or was it good advice?

She was unaware that she had spoken until Amanda said, “Okay.”

“Backstage,” Holly added. She took off and the others fell in behind her. She didn't know where she was going, but she didn't have to. The voice was in her head, clearer now, and it told her where to turn. They quickly reached the scenery workshop and stepped inside the large room. Catwalks soared more than twenty feet in the air up amidst the fly galleries where unused backdrops were stored, held in place by chains that could also be used to lower them when they were once again wanted.

The three girls moved to the door at the far end, but a voice behind them froze them in their tracks.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Three Cahors bitches. Nice to see you again, ladies.”

Holly whipped around to see Michael Deveraux standing just inside the door.

“Thanks, but we prefer to be called witches,” Nicole retorted as she centered herself and then lashed out with a wave of energy pulled from deep within.

Michael lifted a hand casually and sent the wave of energy hurtling back at Nicole with twice the energy she had sent it. It hit her in the chest and knocked her flat.

“You see, Eli. Magic isn't just about spells and potions, it's also about physics. You throw something at a wall, it comes back at you with twice the force.”

Holly turned to see Eli lounging in the far doorway. “Nicely done.”

“That only works if you're a wall,” Holly said, as a bolt of lightning left her fingers and flew toward him. The other two girls stared at her. “Clasp hands,” she ordered them.

Michael caught the electricity easily and it crackled at the tips of his fingers. He proceeded to pass it back and forth between his hands, occasionally letting it arc between them.

He stared with an amused grin at the girls. “Oh, I'm sorry, did you want this back?” he offered, moving his hand as though he were about to throw a ball. “Or maybe I should give it to your cousin?” he suggested
before throwing it at the weakened Nicole.

“No!” Amanda shouted before diving in front of the ball. When it hit her, it lit up her entire frame for a moment, until her head appeared almost as a skeleton's. Holly watched in horror as Amanda fell unconscious to the ground.

“Isabeau, help us,” she murmured.

Michael and Eli were closing now, slow and catlike. Pillars of flame danced behind them, giving them the appearance of demons fresh from Hell.

“I'm afraid you can't stop me,” Michael informed her, unable to contain his delight.

“But I can,” a voice called from on high.

Jer stood dimly silhouetted on the catwalk above. The sword in his hand reflected the light. Holly thrilled and cringed at the site of him. He was magnificent, angry, and dangerous.

“I had hoped you would join us, Jeraud. Needless to say, I'm very disappointed,” Michael called upward.

“Actually, you'll find that it was
you
who should have joined
us
.”

Moving from the shadows, Eddie, Kialish, and Kari also stood on catwalks. Kari swiftly clambored down to join Holly by her fallen cousins as Eddie and Kialish locked hands and began to chant. As easily as though they were candles, the flames behind Michael
and Eli were extinguished. Michael's eyes widened in surprise.

Holly could feel the flames dying all through the building. She tried to throw her will, too, into the magics being used even though she did not know the words spoken by the shaman's son and his lover.

Kari crouched briefly over Amanda and Nicole and when she stood again, she nearly fell. Holly caught her and noticed the paleness of her face. Before she could ask Kari what was wrong, Nicole and Amanda rose as well. They were weak-looking but they managed to stay on their feet.

“I gave them some of my energy,” Kari explained. “We need them.”

Holly nodded briefly and then the four girls clasped hands.

Michael and Eli began to chant; a chant half-remembered from Holly's vision.

They were calling the Black Fire.

“No!” Holly shouted.

No
, Jer echoed.

Murmuring a Spell of Protection, he leaped off the catwalk. He felt the rush of incredible speed and then a bone-jarring impact as he landed on his father, who
was chanting the profane words with Eli. Father and son both went crashing to the ground, while Eli moved out of the way. Jer was the first to gain his feet, amazingly unharmed.

He rammed his fist into Michael's left cheek; the warlock caught Jer's hand and twisted it, sweeping out with his right leg to throw Jer off balance. Then he conjured a fireball in his hand and sent it directly into his son's face.

The pain was horrible, but Jer instantly negated the spell with one that Dan had taught him. Then he prepared to launch a full assault, springing at Michael and slamming him to the ground. He heard his brother chanting to create a fireball of his own, and knew himself to be dead in seconds. . . .

“Get him!” Eddie shouted as he rushed Eli.

Jer stayed focused on his father. He had no idea if his lodge brother—now his Circle acolyte—could take on Eli successfully, but he couldn't risk looking away from his father.

But as he launched himself at Michael, he realized that the older warlock had set up a barrier between them. Soft green glowed in a wall, separating the two. Jer ran at it with both fists, arcing them over his head and then slamming them down on the glowing mist,
but it was like hitting Plexiglas. Next, Jer conjured a spell to break it.

Michael only smiled. Then he closed his eyes and resumed the chant to bring the Black Fire to life.

“No!” he bellowed. “Stop!”

Without breaking rhythm, Michael smiled triumpantly.

“Jer!” Holly screamed.

The Black Fire exploded into existence in the middle of the room. Midnight tendrils of savage heat and destruction lashed out from the molten center. The legs of the nearby catwalks caught fire; wood went up in an insant, like hair.

Everyone scrambled; Kari dove underneath a table set with refreshments for the cast and flipped it on its side. Nicole grabbed Amanda and fell with her to the ground, each huddling against the other. Holly joined them.

The three clasped hands.

“We need a spell. We need to fight this,” Holly said. “We're all going to die.”

Eli was too close to the fire. It reared over his head like a wave at the beach; panicking, Eli fell to his knees and held up his arms.

Jer watched as his brother's skin turned black within a moment. And then . . .

Eli threw open his arms and screamed words into the fiery holocaust. From the center of the blaze, huge wings flapped; the cry of a falcon shot through the roar of the Black Fire. . . .

And a bird materialized, its beak massive, its talons enormous; it was blue-black and magnificent; it was a ghost and yet it had form, and shape, and substance. It grabbed up the burning warlock with its talons, screeched three times, and disappeared.

Stunned by the sight, Jer forgot for a moment about his father. Michael dissolved the barrier and a powerful blow to his jaw snapped his head backward and he fell to the ground, momentarily stunned. Michael straddled him, leering, and lifted Jer's sword above him.

“You preening little peacock!” Michael shouted. “I should have let Sasha take you!”

Jer waited for the blow, trying desperately to recover his strength and wondering if he could block it. But at that moment, the fire doubled in size. Michael's eyes went wide. He dropped the sword and began to back slowly away before turning to run.

Then Holly moved into action, summoning up her strength. She kept hold of her cousins' hands, her palm burning with magical energy.

We have to stand our ground, make this our moment, stand our ground, break the curse. Stand our ground
. . .

. . .
it's so hot; I'm so scared
. . .

We can't stop it
, Jer thought.
It's too much
.

Jer chanted a spell and then scrambled to his feet. Tongues of black flame reared through the roof of the theater; waves of ebony heat rippled and gleamed over every surface the fire could touch.

“Get out of here!” he shouted to anyone who would listen. He shoved at Eddie and Kialish to make them leave. He conjured magic in Kari's direction to send her toward the exit.

But the Black Fire pulled to him, called to him . . .

He, too, would go, after one last look at the fire. . . .

The roaring, burning heat shot toward Holly, who was standing with her cousins. It yanked her, and only her, into its maw. As her cousins watched in horror, her body writhed in the blackness.

“Holly!”

Jer dove toward the conflagration . . .

. . . but it was Jean who stopped mere inches from it, and watched in rage and satisfaction as the flames began to consume her.

“Let it be so again. Let her burn,” Jean whispered.
But she was his to love or hate. His to protect or kill. She was his and nothing would take her from him this time. He stepped into the fire and pressed his palms to hers.

“What are you doing? The fire will kill you!” she shouted.

“ ‘
I have more care to stay than will to go. —Come, death, and welcome! My love wills it so
.' ”

Holly's eyes dropped to their clasped hands and a strangled sob escaped her. When she lifted her head it was Isabeau who looked up at him with her haunting eyes. “I loved you. I am sorry,” she whispered, at last able to tell him.

Jean nodded. “I know.”

And in the keep of Castle Deveraux, in the bonfire of hatred, ruin, and evil, Jean and Isabeau did not burn. They lay, he above her, she below; and they did not burn
.