Bless the Child (57 page)

She could feel heart, soul, mind, straining against the limits. Have to save her.
Have to save her.
Have to take control.
Have to take control.
The words beat in the rhythm of the flying feet. The streetlights seemed to dance before Maggie at the corner, tiny white lights buzzed past her vision like comets. The street seemed not solid anymore beneath her feet. I am lost . . . so far to go to find me. And in a strange neighborhood. Her thoughts were disjointed, muddled, yet crystal clear. As if she could see straight through herself. A crystal pane. A crystal pain. Help me, God!
Help me to save her.

Suddenly she could feel Mim within her. Consciousness rising. A remembrance of power. Something was beginning to awaken.
Please God, let it be enough.

You live and die alone, the thought was inside her suddenly, and irrefutable. But along the line your agonies come from the others. The mad ones, the sad ones, the sick ones, the needy ones. They all take suck from you. Lifeblood drunk randomly. Psychic vampires. Vampires of love.

But that’s how it’s supposed to be. Because love is all there is. All that matters. All that touches God.

Cody is the Messenger and I am the Guardian.

I am the only one who can save her now.

Cody’s
terror drove her inward now, away from the danger that was staring at her in the evil dark. Deep, deep, falling inward into emptiness . . . she pulled her mind in after her, fleeing toward safety. It was the place of fragmentation. The place where ordinary little children go, who have been pushed beyond endurance by their pain. The place of splitting off from the solid center, into the self-protective “others.” The Sybil place. Where personalities multiply to save their desperate host.

But Cody was no ordinary child.

And she was no longer alone in the dark. Giant golden wings whipped the air around her; they brushed the child’s cheek, and settled in about her cowering form. Warmth and calm light all radiated from the wings, a sheltering protection. Stunned and confused, Cody looked up. Great Beings made of Light more brilliant than the sun were moving in the room, and radiating far beyond it. Against such as these, the snake seemed suddenly small and insignificant. She knew they had come from the Place of Light to save her.

Wonderingly, she felt her body change and energize; she thought perhaps she’d died. Had she been old enough to understand molecular biology, she would have sensed the change in frequency, as every shimmering atom of her being was transformed. Light began to radiate from her tiny body, which now channeled energy from a celestial source. And she was growing larger . . .

Cody felt herself a child no more. Radiant beams of light spilled from the Guardian’s hands and eyes—Cody recognized it as a vastly more powerful version of the energy that flowed from her own hands to the sick or hurt ones. Gratefully, she bathed herself in the incandescence they poured forth. Every thought had power, now. A wave of her hand would bring protection. She knew that, somehow. Just as she knew other unimaginable things . . . lifetimes collected in spirals of DNA . . . molecules replete with memory . . . humanity’s frail and mighty history scribed in every cell.

And love!
Sweet love, beyond anything and everything she had ever dreamed, poured forth from every pore. Love even for her tormentors . . . not for their wickedness, but for their fragile humanity that had allowed them, long ago, to choose Evil. Love for all humankind. Love for God/Goddess, Love, even for the deadly snake that quivered now before her dazzling form.

Cody turned her gaze upon the huge slithering beast, and saw, not the unremitting evil of its intent, but the intrinsic beauty and strength that were its birthright in nature. That it had been used for torment was not the python’s fault, for Ghania’s magic had bewitched it.

She remembered a test in a temple, long, long ago . . .

Now, the great snake drew back before the immense onslaught of love that poured from Cody’s eyes. In many cultures, snakes were sacred to the Goddess, in others they were crushed beneath her feet . . . all this was communicated through Cody’s eyes, and when the python slithered near her once again, it was to pay homage.

Ghania watched the child and the snake with intense concentration through the one-way mirror. The special optics incorporated into the glass gave her excellent clarity, despite the dark in the room beyond. It was a derivative of the technology used in night-vision glasses for combat—Eric and Nicky always had access to the best government equipment, especially if it could have use in wartime.

“She has Awakened to her powers!” she said triumphantly. Nicholas Sayles stood beside her in the small room, watching the drama being played next door. “Terror is always the fastest goad.”

“Ten years of study, or two weeks of torture, eh, Ghania?” he responded. He enjoyed others’ suffering, but he loathed the snake. He’d had a run-in with Ghania’s familiar once, and the memory lingered. “You could always be trusted to be expeditious. How dangerous will she be to have around, now that she’s fully Awakened?”

“She is only a child in this incarnation, Nicholas. It would take time for her to learn the full use of the skills she now possesses . . . as yet she has no frame of reference for the use of her power. Each day she would remember something more, but there is only one day left to her. By the hour of the sacrifice, she will be a worthy Messenger. If she were older, the tale might have a different ending, but as it is . . .”

“Will you leave her alone with your precious pet all night, my cruel one?” he asked, fascinated, as always by the unrelenting evil of the witch.

Ghania laughed a low, throaty sound. “I assure you, Nicholas, the only creature in danger, in that room tonight, is my python.” She turned toward the door between the two rooms. “I must go to her now . . .” she said dismissively, and Nicholas Sayles allowed her the slight; she was very good at her work.

Ghania entered the room and saw the child standing quietly in its center. Cody O’Connor’s three-year-old face looked serene as a Buddhist monk’s, or at least as stubbornly composed. She was a different person now, and stared implacably at her jailer.

Ghania watched her every nuance, with calculation. The child had presence and fortitude, imperial stubbornness and grit . . . the Awakening was magnificent, as planned. It was gratifying to see that the old system worked so well—but the Materialization was still a day away.

Ghania saw that Malikali had returned, of her own volition, to her cage. She smiled at Cody and saw that another spirit had come to life within her. An old, wise, intractable spirit, honed by a thousand lifetimes for a single task.

She gazed at the child in fascination, and read the thoughts as clearly as if they’d been spoken.
Do not mistake me, witch,
they said to the Obeah priestess clearly.
Because I inhabit a child’s body does not make me a neophyte.

Even Christ had to be taught by his mother to walk and speak his name. My Mother teaches me, too. Do not think you have caught me because I am in your snare. The game has not yet been played.

Thank Darkness the body was still small and the earth years so few . . . even at that, she would have to be kept drugged until the Ceremony. There was no point in taking chances.

Ghania slid the needle deep into the child’s arm and pushed the plunger.

Maggie
rounded the corner of Cornelia and spotted Devlin’s building, halfway down the block. She took the old limestone steps without pause, two at time, opened the outer vestibule door and rang the bell insistently. The ancient intercom crackled out his sleepy voice. “Who is it?”

“It’s me Dev, she panted, still breathless. “Let me in. I have to see you.”

The buzzer sounded, and then he was there beside her, a pair of gym shorts hastily pulled on, and shirtless, puzzled, worried look on his face. His hair, uncombed, fell onto his forehead, making him look boyish.

“I’m going to get her out of there Dev,” Maggie said, without waiting for hello, as he led her into his apartment. “I’m going to find a way to kidnap her, before they do their ritual. Something happened to her tonight. I don’t know what, but something
terrible
happened. I’ve been running . . . putting the pieces together . . .”

Devlin stared at her, still groggy from sleep. He held up a hand to stop the rush of words.

“For Christ’s sake, Maggie,” he said, “will you give me a minute to get up to speed here? It’s 2:00 A.M.

“I don’t care
what
time it is, Devlin!” she said fiercely. “They
hurt her
tonight. Don’t ask me how I know.
I know.
Those bastards hurt her. And I’m going up there to get her.”

“For Christ’s sake, Maggie,” Dev said again angrily. “Are you out of your mind? You’ll get yourself killed or arrested. If I hadn’t been there the last time, you’d be chopped liver by now. Will you let me handle this my way? You are not equipped for this.”

“No,
I will
not
let you handle this your way!” she exploded. “Don’t you get it? There’s no time left for waiting for somebody
else
to do something. Cody’s my grandchild and I’m the one who has to know I did everything that was humanly possible to save her.”

“So you’ll let your fucking ego get in the way of her safety and your own?”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “You son of a bitch!” she blazed. “We’re not talking egos, here! It’s not my
ego
that’s making me lay my life on the line—it’s
love.

“She’s part of my heart, don’t you understand that? I learned everything Ellie and Peter could throw at me, hoping against hope there’d be a magical formula somewhere that would make this whole fucking nightmare go away. But there isn’t. And then I waited to see if your fabled police work could save her, but now we know it won’t! Don’t you think I’d be thrilled if somebody,
somewhere,
knew how to save her? Nobody knows better than I do how woefully inadequate I am for this job . . . I’m not equipped for this, by anything except love.

“But that one thing I have, Devlin. I do love her. Enough to face those maniacs—enough to die, if I have to. And that isn’t ego talking. I am not a fool! Goddammit! If there were anyone else on this earth I could trust to get her out of that stinking house, I’d hand over the job in a heartbeat. But there isn’t.

“Cody is three years old, Dev! And she’s alone in a house full of monsters who kill children. And I told her I’d be back. So by God,
I will be back.
Even if I do nothing more than make sure she doesn’t die alone, thinking nobody loved her enough to try to save her . . .
I will go back!”

The intransigent frown that greeted her outburst infuriated her. Why did she want so much for him to understand?