Could this really work?
Bracing herself, she nodded. Jessie made contact.
Christine shrieked in pain. Her body wasn’t meant to contain this much power. Nobody was. So she didn’t. She let it flow through her.
The runes on her staff were glowing so brightly now it hurt her eyes, forcing her to screw them shut.
Berith howled as he leaned forward into the onslaught.
More magic entered her body unexpectedly, but Christine was no longer surprised. It entered and shot through her staff fluidly. It barely hurt at all.
Or I simply can no longer feel pain...
The rest of her team came forward, all of them connecting with her, lending her their power.
A torrent of purple energy as wide across as she was tall poured from her staff.
Lord Berith was stopped in his tracks.
Christine’s eyes snapped open, pupils blazing with angry violet light.
“You are not welcome here,” she said, her voice carrying easily through the torrent of power. She no longer had to shout.
Berith shook his head. “What is this? This isn’t possible! You can’t defeat me.”
“I’m not,” Christine said, looking left and right, long hair flying wildly in the ponytail behind her. “We are.”
She thrust her staff forward, and the powerful light struck Lord Berith in the chest. The demon lord howled in pain as armor melted away and the magic penetrated his skin. Burning liquid magma poured forth, and the creature withered and died.
Christine didn’t stop until the remains flashed and disappeared in a ball of smoke, Berith’s corporeal form destroyed, banishing him back to the Abyss.
The flow of power dimmed and then shut off. The wild swirling of wind died down, leaving the witches to stand around, unsure of what had just happened, or how they had managed to do what they did.
“Someone do me a favor?” Christine said as weariness overcame here. “Let Circe know that we’re good here?”
Then she motioned for Altair, leaning heavily on him as he came near. “I need to sit down,” she told him as Madison took charge of the team for the moment.
“You expended a lot of energy today,” Altair said quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Just tired,” she said. “Circe gave me a potion before we left. Helped me recover some of my energy, but I think I may have used it all up. Sleep and food sound wonderful right now.”
Altair smiled, stroking her head. “You were magnificent out there. How did you do that?”
She shook her head, reaching out, touching him. Feeling his skin. “I don’t know. I can...I can feel you, Altair. Not just like this,” she said, pressing her fingers against him. “But in this world, I can sense your presence when I couldn’t before. Like you exist within the magic of this world. Like you’re becoming a part of it.”
“Or you’re becoming a part of me,” he said quietly. “A joining of two halves.”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “Just like that. But if it’s all the same to you, can we wait a few days before fighting the next demon lord?”
Altair chuckled softly, nodding his head. “Of course, my dear. Of course. Now rest. Until Circe and the Coven arrive, there isn’t much left for you to do. Everything is under control. I promise.”
She nodded, and in an instant was asleep in his arms, feeling safer and more secure than she had in a great many years.
Yet even as she slept, her mind dreamed of something else.
Something she still had to do.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Altair
HE WAS STILL CRADLING Christine in his arms when Circe and the Coven appeared.
His keen eyes picked them up in the sky well before the others, but it wasn’t long before everyone else saw them approaching. They swept in on the air steeds that the disciples of Winterspell seemed to favor, though there was a certain grace, elegance, and no doubt power to them that many of the others simply seemed to lack.
Altair watched intently as they spread out, rendering aid where necessary, and protection anywhere else. All of them had wands and staffs out, ready to deal with anything that may be left.
There was nothing. Between the dragons and Christine’s team, everything had been disposed of already. Gremlin corpses burned, and any remains of the demon lord incinerated until not even ash remained, giving Lord Berith zero chance of resurrecting his physical form outside of the Abyss. They were thorough.
“She is unharmed?” Circe asked, approaching.
“Just tired,” he said. “She never really recovered from the first fight, and she used a lot of energy today.” He declined to inform the Circe of how. That would be up to Christine to decide whether or not to share information on what she’d done.
Truthfully, Altair wasn’t really sure how she had done it anyway, so he wouldn’t be of much help. He’d never heard of a thing happening between his people, and she had seemed surprised at the fact as well, making it obvious that such energy-sharing wasn’t a common occurrence.
It had worked, however, and for that he was grateful. Only a few minor bumps and bruises had been suffered this time around. The difference was...vast, between the first encounter with the demon lord, and this one.
“Can you wake her?” Circe asked cautiously, and to his surprise, politely.
She was giving him an opening to say no, to let her sleep. Altair was impressed that the woman, someone with so much authority and expectation of obedience, would allow such a thing. Still, there was never any hesitation in his mind. Regardless of how Circe felt, Christine would give him a piece of her mind if he didn’t wake her and let her know that the Coven had arrived.
“Hey,” he said, stroking her face gently. “Sleepyhead. Big boss is here, wants
