Magic and Loss

“Mom—run!” Hexe yelled, as he grappled with Erys. “Get out of here!”

But just as Erys pressed the blade of the dagger to Hexe’s throat, a strange look crossed her borrowed face and she jerked her head first one way, then another, as if listening to someone calling her name.

“Who are you?” she snapped. “What are you doing?”

As if in reply, the knife fell from Erys’ hand, allowing Hexe to quickly scuttle free of her grasp. Her face abruptly went slack and a hollow, distant voice issued from her gaping mouth. “I’ve come to reclaim what’s mine, my love.”

“No! Leave me be!” Erys said, her face returning to its usual, intense expression, like a rubber band snapping back into place.

“Enough is enough, husband.”

“But I’ve done all this for you, Nina!” Erys protested, sounding more like a petulant child than a dark wizard bent on the destruction of mankind and the harrowing of worlds. “This is your revenge!”

“Do not place this abomination on me! My Esau would never do such things in the name of love! You are not the man I married—you are a demon in all but name!”

Erys’ face began to contort, the muscles flexing like snakes locked in mortal combat. Then her features abruptly relaxed and Hexe found himself looking not at Erys, but Nina. Although the features were identical, there was now a kindness and warmth, mixed with a profound sadness, which had not been there before—or, rather, had not been there for a long, long time.

“Do it now, while I have control,” Nina said urgently. “Do what only a strong Right Hand can do: exorcise him!”

Without hesitation, Hexe raised his left hand, chanting the rite of purification as he moved his fingers into the mirror-reverse configurations used to drive forth demons. A burst of white light shot from his palm and into Nina’s body, lighting her from within like a paper lantern, chasing out a cloud of wispy black smoke that buzzed like a nest of hornets.

“You’ve thrown him out,” Nina said with a weary smile. “Now you must lock the door. Kill this body before he returns.”

“No,” Lady Syra said, pushing her son aside as she got up off the floor. “This falls to me. Just as it was up to Lord Bexe to end his brother’s threat, Esau is mine to put down.” And with that she drove the sacrificial dagger into her sister-in-law’s heart.

Nina took a step back, wavering like a dandelion caught in a stiff breeze, crimson rapidly spreading from the knife sticking in her chest. “Thank you, Syra,” she said with a beatific smile.

“I’m sorry, Nina,” Lady Syra whispered tearfully.

“Why?” the ghost replied. “I’ve been dead for decades.”

As Nina’s truly lifeless body dropped to the floor, there was a horrific howling noise from the direction of the portal. Hexe and Syra turned to see Esau—once more unified with his corporeal form—standing atop the bier carried by his monstrous servants, his face contorted in fury. But as they watched, Esau’s shriek of outrage became first a scream of protest, then anguish, as the legions of the damned that had, moments before, been eager to carry him to power, turned on him at once, dragging him down from his lofty perch, clutching and gouging at his flesh as if to tear him apart with their bare claws. And while in the Infernal Realm there is no unconsciousness, or sleep, or any means of alleviating pain, and neither is there death, there are consequences for making promises you cannot keep. Esau was still screaming as the portal closed.

* * *

Thanks to the reckless use of hellfire in an enclosed space, not only did the warehouse catch fire, so did the rest of the pier. While most of the Golgotham Army escaped the inferno, the same could not be said for the Maladanti, most of whom had either perished in the battle or simply refused to admit defeat and vacate the Stronghold.

Among the last to leave the burning building were Hexe and Lady Syra, who exited in style on the back of the clockwork dragon. As the Witch Queen and her Heir Apparent approached what remained of the gates to the pier on their mechanical mount, the crowd of onlookers who had been drawn from their nearby homes by the fire gasped in amazement. It was the first time in over a thousand years that members of the Royal Family had been seen astride anything that resembled a dragon.

I experienced a weird jolt as I saw myself through my creation’s eyes, perched on Canterbury’s back, my child still cradled in my arms. Then suddenly I was back in my own body. I quickly dismounted and hurried to greet Hexe as he and his mother climbed down from the clockwork dragon.

“Praise Arum you’re safe!” Hexe said, throwing his arms about us. “What about my father?”

“Illuminata took him to Golgotham General,” Seamus replied.

“Your father’s been hurt?” Syra gasped.

“Not to hear him tell it!” Seamus said with a laugh. “You’d think takin’ a knife to the chest was nothin’! He’s a stubborn cuss, your da, but a brave one. He’s just the kind of man I’ll need, once I’m mayor.”

“What about casualties?” Hexe asked.

“The ferrymen to the necropolis will be busy,” Kidron replied solemnly. “But we gave better than we got. Luckily, once Marz and Gaza went down, most of the Maladanti broke rank and deserted the battlefield.”

“Where’s Scratch?” I asked, searching the crowd of exhausted warriors. “He’s not still trapped in there, is he?”

“It’ll take more than a burning building to slow me down,” a voice said from above. I looked up and saw Scratch, still in his hell-cat aspect, coming in for a landing. “Sorry I took so long, but I wanted to bring you a present,” the familiar said, spitting out Boss Marz’s beringed left hand.

Chapter 34

“Stop fussing over me, woman. I’m fine,” Horn grumbled as Lady Syra rearranged his pillows for the tenth time.

“You are not fine! You were stabbed in the chest!” she reminded him.

“That was a couple hours ago,” he said with a dismissive shrug. “The psychic surgeons patched me up— they said I should be good to go come tomorrow morning.”

“Go where?” Syra smiled as she leaned in to kiss him. “Your place or mine?”

“I’m glad to see you’re both feeling better,” Hexe said as we entered the room.

“How long were you two standing there?” Syra asked.

“Long enough,” I replied with a laugh.

“I know you don’t like having a lot of people hanging around while you’re recovering, but we thought you might make an exception this time,” Hexe smiled.

“You know I always make an exception for family, son,” Horn replied.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hexe said, stepping aside to reveal Hana and Torn.

Horn’s jaw dropped in amazement. “Mama? Papa?” he whispered.

“My boy! My brave, brave boy!” Hana wept as she hurried to throw her arms about her wounded son.

Torn moved to join his wife at their son’s bedside. Although he was working hard to maintain his reserve, I could see tears shining in the old man’s eyes. “Your son told us how you fought to protect Lady Syra and the Royal Family. You have done our ancestors proud.”

Horn turned to look at Hexe. “How did you know—?”

“It’s a long story,” Hexe replied with a rueful smile. “And one I’m not too proud of. I’m just grateful they were willing to overlook my shortcomings as a host.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, dear,” Hana assured him. “Tate told us how that awful uncle of yours was controlling you the whole time.”

“I never cared for Master Esau,” Torn said sourly. “He was always such an imperious snot, even as a boy.