The Arcana Chronicles 5: The Dark Calling

Realization: We're done for.

Gabriel struck, one wing zooming out from the hallway. Before Jack could swing his sword, his body had been launched across the room.

"Ah, God, Jack!"

He unsteadily rose, had somehow managed to keep hold of his weapon.

"Don't touch him again, Gabriel!" Or what?

"ARCHANGEL," Aric yelled from a distance. He must be at the edge of the sphere. "Face me! I have no armor. No swords. Come seize my icon."

Would Gabriel take the bait? "Death has no protection," he told Lark. "We will not get another opportunity like this. My wing's reach is long. I can kill him without crossing the boundary."

Then Aric was more vulnerable than he'd ever been. Need Paul to die before Gabriel reaches the edge!

Lark nodded. "Go. I can handle one mortal playing dress-up and a powerless Empress." Cyclops slinked inside, Scarface and Maneater behind him. They circled me and Jack.

Gabriel charged away, and Lark focused her chilling red gaze on me. "I'm going to make this hurt." The wolves pounced.

I tossed vines their way, muzzling their snouts. Each ounce of power I used for defense weakened my attack on Paul.

Jack swung at Scarface, landing a sword blow against his flank. The muzzled wolf leapt for him, knocking him onto his back.

"Putain!"

"Jack!"

Scarface broke free of his vines and snapped at Jack's raised arm, fangs on metal. Clang clang. The sword flashed out again, striking the wolf's other side. Blood poured, but its eyes were demented.

When I threw another vine to protect Jack, Paul stole a few wheezing breaths. His struggles grew stronger.

Maneater pawed her green muzzle off, then charged me. I scrambled back, blocking her way with more vines. All the while, I could feel Paul inching his way out of the noose.

We were losing ground, about to lose our lives! Anytime, red witch. Here's another monster for you.

Jack had the same thought. Between breaths, he grated, "Let her loose, Evie!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Paul fumbling with something in the desk drawer. What was he--

A pistol.

He used my moment of shock to yank back from me. I tightened the noose, but he still managed to raise the weapon, aiming it right at my stomach.

The gun fired.

Blinding pain made me scream. Aric's anguished roar carried from the distance.

I gaped down at my body. The bullet had gone in and out of my arm. Paul attempted to steady his shaking hand. Too late; a vine leapt from my skin, knocking the weapon to the floor.

Paul had only given me a flesh wound, but he could have shot my vulnerable belly. The red witch shrieked for vengeance, rising up inside me, a terrible fever. Drawing on my wrath felt good. Surrendering to rage was like living in Paul's sphere: simpler.

Power surged. With every one of his exhalations, I tightened the noose's grip. The scent of roses steeped the air. The heat of battle was an inferno.

The light behind his head dimmed as he fell to his knees. He clawed at his throat, his eyes pleading.

Ah, heavenly. "Come, Paul. Touch." When one eyeball popped out, I laughed with delight. Just like old times. "But you'll pay a price." I flicked my wrist.

The noose contracted. SNAP.

Paul's limp body collapsed to the floor, and his tongue lolled from his slack mouth. At last!

I laughed again as a shivery feeling tingled on my hand. Then another. Icons.

Yanking off my glove, I stared down at the new marks: a noose for the Hanged Man and Finn's ouroboros. Want more.

I slowly turned to Lark. I could take her down, just as my grandmother had wanted. Then Gabriel. Four icons in one day!

Why stop there? Death had no armor . . . .

Expression baffled, Lark clambered back against a wall, her wolves staggering toward her. "What the hell?" Her red eyes sparked with realization. Her lips curled back, revealing her fangs. "Paul did it? He killed Finn! He made me burn . . . ah, God, I burned Finn."

The wolves leapt upon the Hanged Man's corpse, snatching at flesh, tearing him apart.

Crunch, crunch. Blood painted the walls, crimson spatter arcing over antiques and book spines. It pooled on the floor around Paul's remains as the beasts fought over pieces.

The violence excited the red witch. As I sized up Lark, her eyes were laser-focused on the gore.

Jack lumbered toward me. "Hey, hey. Come back to me." He pinched my chin and turned my face. "Lark's been through enough. Come on, you can do this."

I thrashed my head away. Nooo. Now awakened, the witch had no desire to yield. Evie a sliver of me! I can protect the baby better than anyone. We're stronger like this.

"Come back to me, peekon. The fight's over."

But it wasn't. The monsters would just keep coming. And I couldn't keep doing this without drowning in the well. "It's better this way, Jack." My voice even sounded different, breathy and evil.

I'd never felt so in line with the red witch, so unified. Maybe my split personality was melding. Maybe it should.

"I'm right here, bebe. You have to come back to me."

With each second that I clashed against the witch for control, Lark seemed to be emerging from her own inner battle. Eyes lost, she gave a heartbreaking sob.

That sound was like an alarm going off inside me, warning me of danger.

I was the danger.

Damn it, Lark was my friend! I never wanted to hurt her. I peered up at Jack, holding his gaze, taking deep breaths.

The witch finally began to recede.

"Ma bonne fille, that's it. You've got this."

In time, I met eyes with Lark. "Are you with us again?" Her tableau appeared--right side up.

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm back now."

I glanced out the window. The sphere had dissipated. The pall was gone, but had I gotten to the Hanged Man in time to stop Gabriel? "Can you see if Death is safe?"

Looking for him through her creatures, she said, "The boss is closing in fast."

Relief overwhelmed me.

"I'm so sorry, Evie," she said, tears welling. "For everything."

"You couldn't help it. It's not your fault."

"Great trick, by the way." Her voice broke as she said, "F-Finn would've loved it." She lurched away.

I hurried after her. "Lark, wait."

Glancing over her shoulder, she held up her claw-tipped fingers to stop me. "Need to go lick my wounds. Alone." Her gaze flitted past me to the blood. Was she staring at it hungrily? Red of tooth and claw. Maybe I wasn't the only one wrestling with the heat of battle. "Just give me a t.o." She turned once more. Her wolves followed her, severed limbs dangling from their jaws.

Jack grabbed my shoulder, enfolding me in his arms as much as the armor would allow. "Let her go. Finn's death is probably hitting h

er for real for the first time."

I couldn't even comprehend how she must be feeling. Oh, wait--yes, I could.

Jack pulled off the helmet, setting it on Aric's desk. "You okay? Can't believe that bastard shot you."

"Yeah." I checked the wound. Regeneration was kicking in slowly. "It's nothing. Already healing."

"If Dominija had been here, he could've prevented that."

"It was close quarters. Are you okay?" Without that armor, he might have died.

"I'm good." Jack drew back and started to remove the onyx pieces, piling them next to the helmet. Breastplate. Left armguard. "But I want this off me." He reached down to unbuckle the last leg guard.

I frowned at the discarded armor. "That suit probably saved your life. Gabriel's strike could've broken your back. At the very least, Scarface would have taken your arm."

"Wearing this made me understand some things." He straightened. "This suit isn't just Death's protection against the world; it's the world's protection against him--a cage. Dominija told me I'd walk a mile in his shoes. I have. And inside this armor is the loneliest place I've ever been, the most separated from everything I've ever felt."

I thought back to all the times I'd asked Aric to wear it. "He must hate it." But he'd still worn it to allay my fears.

"Ouais." For the first time, Jack's attention strayed from me. Details of the study caught his eye, the books and scrolls, the scepters and crowns on display. His curiosity was clearly redlining. "So this is the Reaper's lair. Mind-blowing, non? One thing to hear about it; another to see it inside. I was slack-jawed the whole way in. Almost forgot to act like an asshole to you."

And now, by rights, the castle of lost time was his. Yet as much as I tried to picture living here with Jack, I couldn't see it.

He must've picked up on my shift in mood. "You never intended to send Death packing, did you?"

"I didn't make any decisions about him or you, but it felt wrong to oust him from his home."

"For true." Another glance around the room. A rueful exhalation. "Nice place to visit . . ."

Despite everything, Jack made me want to smile. "When Aric brought up his idea, I just kept my mouth shut and went along with it."

At the same time, we both said, "Kick the can down the road."

I gave a weak laugh. "Yeah."

He took my hand in his. "But now we're at the end of the road. Castle or no, ousting or no, how're you feeling?" He took a step closer. "Just so we're clear about how I'm feeling . . ." He leaned down to press his lips to mine. The tender kiss told me more than words ever could.