I have little time to formulate a plan, but know that Mary will likely just snap Ian’s neck the moment I make a move, so that she can subdue me. Before I can move, the door to the cellar swings wide open and there are impossibly heavy steps on the stairs.
We all look over in unison to see Mario trotting down the stairs, his mouth set and eyes purposeful. Mary is still in the murderous thrall and continues howling as she asphyxiates Ian, whose eyes are bulging as he seems to notice Mario.
“Child!” Mario hollers, and I am astonished to see Mary completely halt, her head cricks to the side, as she slowly lets go of Ian, where he drops to the ground gasping and clutching at his neck. His eyes are red and watering and he’s unable to form words despite trying.
When Mary turns to Mario she has transformed from feral creature to a more human incarnation that I can only assume is more like what Juniper saw as a child. Her hair tumbles in black waves to her trim waist, and her face is of incomparable beauty. Gone are the bruised eyes, and in their wake are brilliant black eyes that are large, lushly lashed and expressive.
“My child, what have you done?” Mario asks, his voice filled with melancholic disappointment.
“Malvina,” she says, shame awash in her expression and my mouth drops.
“You have made yourself unavailable to me,” Mario says, his possession completely overtaking his generally masculine expressions over as he places his hands on his hips and Malvina speaks through him. “Long have I stayed in this dismal, mortal plane to see to you, and long have you denied me, using the inheritance I provided you against me.”
“I am sorry, Malvina,” she says, dropping her head down. “I have lost my way very badly.”
“Why do you continue this?” Malvina chides. “You have lost.”
“I have not. I cannot,” Mary argues. “My life was stolen from me.”
“No, my life was stolen from me,” Malvina tells her, reaching a hand out to Mary who avoids looking at it. “I paid my life to give you yours. You have forsaken me and become everything I warned you against.”
“It changes nothing,” Mary tells her regretfully. “I cannot give up now, I can still win.”
“Win what, child? You lost the moment you tried to poison Sarah. You were lost then,” Malvina admonishes and Mary responds to it, clasping her hands and looking down as Malvina continues. “You cannot be corporeal, you have turned into a creature of malevolence. The consequences of the prophecy must die, and you with it.”
“But Erik…” she says, turning to look at him, observing him next to me, holding my hand.
“I told you not to obsess over men,” Malvina sighs. “This one is taken just as thoroughly as George was. This man will never love you as George did, and you shouldn’t want him to.”
“I cannot help it,” Mary whispers.
“You must,” Malvina says, moving forward incrementally. “For Iris. She would not want you to take the life of her very great grandchild, your very great grandchild.”
“Iris…” Mary says, her otherworldly voice hampered by emotion. The word sounds heavy on her tongue, foreign but also slightly evocative. “My Iris.”
“Yes, your Iris,” Malvina says. “I told you we could all be together in a time and realm where time is not relevant. You have only made yourself a hell of hate here. You’ve punished yourself and others out of sheer spite. You’ve perpetrated on these people what men did to you. You’ve lied, killed and taken people without consent. You feel you are owed another life, so see fit to take other lives to ensure it. You are not only like them, you are worse. You are one entity that has wrought death and destruction on innocent souls. You are the villain now.”
“What must I do, Malvina?” Mary questions tenderly, her eyes closing slowly at the words that are clearly like knives to her. “I want to be with Iris.”
“You know what you must do,” Malvina says, before leaving Mario’s body. He topples to the ground, as Malvina appears before us, with Mary still staring at her. “Thank you for not hiding again.”
Mary nods and slowly turns around to look at all of us. She looks from one face to another, resting on Erik with a small sob as he holds my hand tighter. She closes her eyes briefly and then looks at me and then the mirror, her eyes directing me as she stands next to Malvina and grasps her misty hand.
I don’t let the two specters out of my sight as I shuffle over to the mirror with the knife in my hand. I recall what to do from my time with her, sharing that consciousness. It was information she never thought I’d have the opportunity to use, but now she encourages me. Now it is a gift.
“Bloody Mary,” I say looking into her eyes, which behold me unblinkingly. “Bloody Mary,” she straightens and nods me on. “Bloody Mary,” I finish, watching as she vanishes from before me and into the mirror, the very mirror she died in front of.
“I banish you,” I say, cutting my palm swiftly, gasping at the pain as the slice immediately begets blood which I smear over her face in the mirror and then use the handle of the blade to smash the mirror, watching her face dissolve into shards and then disappear. I turn to see Malvina nod and then vanish before me.
In their wake is a crushing silence as I turn to look at my friends, who stare in disbelief. I peer down at Mario who is holding himself on his palms, which are splayed on the floor behind him, looking incredulous.
I lean down to offer my hand, realizing at the last second that if
