Blue Moon (40 page)

—
There's something wrong with my sister.

—
I know. Rita-Sierra does not seem ... stable.

—
Rita-Sierra? I've slowly started to call her that in my head, although habit names her Rita.

Alex sighed.

—
We will watch her, and see.

"You are not welcome here,” a voice hissed, and she felt something scratch her cheek. Her knife was out in an instant, slicing the air, but how do you fight a shadow?

"Easy,” Zorovin said, raising his hands. Fire flared along the sides of the path, scattering those who preferred the dark. “They know we are here now. We may as well have light."

Shadows flickered and disappeared, more of a warning system than a guard, she thought.

A man appeared on the path below. He started towards them, and Libby recognized him as the man she'd met on the plane, the one who gave her the box.

"Dr. Langley?” she called. “What are you doing here?"

"We failed, Libby,” he said sadly. “And to the victor go the spoils."

He raised his hand, and she felt narrow little hands shove her forward. She stumbled, let go of Alex's hand. Something clanged against the floor behind her. She turned. Bars had come across the passage, cutting her off from her friends, except for Rita-Sierra. At the memory of the hands on her back, she thought that she was probably cut off from her allies, period.

"Libby?” Alex put his hand through the bars then yanked them back as if burned. “Do not go down there. Wait. We'll get through."

"As if she has a choice,” Langley said. “Do you think it was coincidences that brought you to this moment? You did not have any choice in the paths you took. They all lead here. Unfortunately, the one before you is now permanently blocked.” There was a noise up tunnel, and he smiled as if everything were on cue. “And you can't go back."

"What happened to you? You were one of the good guys.” Libby demanded.

He laughed. “Oh, no, I was never that."

She grabbed the sheath from her belt and stuck the knife back into it. Magic would only do so much for those she was about to leave behind. She refused to look at Rita-Sierra. She could not fight her sister. She thrust the knife through the bars and dropped it.

"What the hell are you doing?” Alex asked.

"You'll come for me. You'll defeat whatever's coming down the tunnel, and you'll come for me."

Langley's hand was cold on her shoulder. “Come, now. Your husband is waiting."

Rita-Sierra's and Libby's eyes met.

"And so is our destiny,” Rita said.

"At last,” Melnue whispered, looking down into the glass. “Do you see her? The one who stole my face and my mind?"

"Aye,” Nimue said, looking deep.

The Black Queen stood over the Merlin Stone, her arms crossed as she studied it. She raised her eyes and smiled—it was as if she were looking out at the three who watched her.

An auburn-haired woman with brilliant blue eyes entered the room.

"My magic,” Nimue whispered. “She is the guardian of the Stone."

"She did a poor job,” Morganna commented.

"No.” Nimue sighed. “I did. I very much doubt she even knew what she was getting into."

"Who's that?” Melnue asked as a redhead with glowing green eyes entered the room.

"Strange,” Morganna said. “She has my magic.” She shook her head. “But it does not feel right.” She looked up, and explained. “Merlin took a sliver of my will—the will to fight, the will to keep the magic here. It was a strange, destructive thing, humans would call it a multiple personality disorder. It was as if I had a second soul.

"He took it and my magic and used them to bind the Stone and make it strong."

"You were quite mad at times,” Nimue said.

"Whatever it was, when he took it away, I felt ... better. It wasn't really that he'd stopped me from fighting, but that my mind cleared and I saw that the cause I was fighting for would only destroy the world. In fact, it already had, in some ways already.” Morganna shrugged. “If he gelded me or not, it's a small matter. But now it's mutated into its own thing. It is not mine anymore, and what it may have become frightens me."

The knife was marvelous. It weighed just right in his hands as he swung it at the gibbering little creatures that jumped at him. Luckily, Alex had realized that lightning, the only form of magic he had at his command, would probably kill his allies and not the little, sharp-hindlegged, sucker-cupped-handed beasts that nipped at his knees and tried to claw his face.

"This is a waste of time,” Zorovin snarled. “They are only here to keep us from our task at hand.” He picked one off his coat and threw it against the wall. It hit with a snapping of bones.

"They're limitless,” Dashiel said. He seemed to be doing more good than the two dragons.

Alex got one on the backswing and straightened. “No, I think that's it."

They stood, trying to hear over their heavy breathing.

From the cave mouth they heard the whistling that was the monsters’ rally cry. The creatures flooded the tunnel once more.

"Enough.” Zorovin grabbed Alex and Dashiel, pushing them out of the way to stand in front of them. The room seemed to darken, his form to grow. “I said
enough!"
His voice reverberated. The walls seemed to shake.

The creatures clattered to a stop. Ruby eyes glistened, gazing out from pale, sunken flesh. Zorobin raised a hand.

"Behind me...” He raised his hand. “I command you. I draw you from my bones...” A fire-shaped dragon burst from his palm. Its broad wings swept the corridor, filling it with the stench of death and burning.

There was a moment of silence while Zorovin surveyed his work.

"Whoa,” Dashiel said. “I hope I'm never the one who pisses you off."

Zorovin smiled a little. “I wouldn't advise it."

"I feel the prescience of The World. It's getting stronger,” Alex said.

His father nodded. He could feel magic surging even more strongly—the well from which they drew their strength was getting closer.

Alex turned. The bars melted like chocolate under his hand.

"It's good to see you, Libby,” Sabin said.

She shrugged, ears still straining to hear what was happening up the tunnel. They were in a Victorian-style drawing room, all overblown roses and scarlet velvet. Sabin sat on a couch, an ornate mahogany table next to him. A gold decanter and goblets sat on it.

Rita had crossed to the window and was staring outside. Every once in a while her shoulder would jerk, or she would shiver. Right now, Libby's own arm was pinned uncomfortably behind her back by dear old Langley, so she pretty much didn't care what was wrong with her sister.

"Now,” Sabin said, pouring a glass of wine, “you are supposed to say something like, ‘Pity I can't say the same’ or throw your hair over your shoulder and say, ‘You'll never go through with your evil plans while I'm alive.'” He chuckled. “Come on. Entertain me."

"I have zero interest in entertaining you, although I do have to say that you're carrying this dark prince thing, like, way too far.” She laughed. “I am kinda surprised you didn't dress up like a bad imitation of Bela Lugosi and saunter down the stairs."

He studied her then waggled his fingers in the air. “Not bad. Not really topical, but an okay try. But that's not what I brought you down here to discuss. See, I feel that our marriage isn't really working out for us."

Libby rolled her eyes.

"What?” he asked.

"Give me a break. You're gonna kill me and then, a second later, go, ‘There. We're divorced.’ Puh-lease."

"You know, you weren't quite what I expected,” he said, sipping the wine then holding the cup to her lips. It was like old times. He loved all wines, even the cheap ones. They would buy a bottle, and he'd pour a glass and let her taste it to see if she liked it first. If she did, he'd pour her own glass. It had been one of the things that made her think she loved him.

"And what
did
you expect?” she asked pulling her face away from the goblet. “Another mommy?"

Something behind those dark gold eyes shifted. “My mother was—is—the greatest of all in fairy legend. She is the most powerful, the most beautiful of all our kind. But she wanted too much, so they buried her, sealed her in crystal and abandoned her when Merlin ripped apart The World."

"Your mother,” Libby's mouth said, “was nothing more than a whore who would sell herself to whomever promised her the most power. Who is your father, Sabin? Oberon? Uliech? Or some stableboy who caught her eye?"

He ignored her. “She was everything! But they expunged her name, gave Titania and Mab and Aevil credit for all her deeds! They stripped her from even the memory of mortals."

"She is nameless, for she is not worthy of being named,” she said. “Usurpers come, and they are dealt with. Would that we had drowned her little bastard when we had the chance."

Rita turned away from the window, surprise in her eyes.

Sabin sighed. “Very well. I'll go ahead and cut out your eyes. Then perhaps, we will be able to have a reasonable conversation."

"I doubt you could do anything that requires reason."

"Oh, we'll see.” He picked a knife up off the table while Langley grabbed her other arm and held both behind her. “Well, I will, anyway."

"Wait! I want to know one thing."

He put the tip of the blade on her nose. “What?"

"Why get Langley to give me the box? Why involve me at all?"

He looked at the man behind her. “That's not Langley. The man behind you is one of the fae, using Langley's body as shelter. Langley gave the box to you because he'd read Seward's reports on your reaction to stones. He wrote you up in some journal. It's where I found out about you, too. So, he thought, apparently, that you'd be the right person to hide it.” He moved the point slowly as he talked, dragging it to her tear duct. “Unfortunately, I found him not too long afterward, and was able to ... extract the information.” He reached up, pulled her lower eyelid down.

She bit her tongue hard, but a whimper escaped.

"Don't,” Rita commanded. “We need her whole."

Libby opened her mouth to scream, but a flood of words came, instead. She could not understand them, they just came tumbling out. She let them, because Sabin backed up a step, and the man behind her trembled and fell. It's the separation song, she thought.

Langley's body convulsed as if something was being ripped out of him. Sabin didn't want to touch her, lest the spell work on him. She knew he wouldn't let her get near him, so she turned away, leapt over the now-still body. Whatever had been keeping it alive had been stripped from it by her words.

Libby ran up a set of steps, and she threw herself through the door. She was on a ledge high above the earth and in front of her, spinning like a small world, was the Stone.

"Isn't it beautiful?” Rita said. She came up behind Libby and put an arm around her waist. Her cheek, soft and pliable, rested against Libby's shoulder. They looked at it for a long moment.

There was a clattering sound on the stairs, and Rita lifted her head and gestured with her free hand. The door slammed shut.

Libby didn't move.

They were, she realized, at the highest point of the castle, on a small open balcony.

The Stone filled her world. She could do nothing but look at it.

"Magic,” Rita said. “Magic is everything."

"Yes,” Libby whispered.

"I will die, you know. Magic is the only thing keeping me alive."

Libby couldn't think. She felt dizzy. Her world was a blue, spinning haze.

"Just think,” Rita whispered, “what good magic could do for this world. It could heal everything and everyone in it."

"I doubt that,” she mumbled.

Rita heard her. She walked away, looking down at the world. “They say that magic will destroy the world, that magic and technology are too advanced along their separate paths to click together. They say that when the worlds unite their differences might kill people, but it's already a dying cause. Reuniting the worlds will bring life to us all ... out of the chaos and sacrifice there will be something better. I swear there will."

For a second, the glow in her eyes faded, and she turned and looked over her shoulder at Libby. “Do you think?"

Libby didn't answer, merely reached out her hand. It hovered over the Merlin Stone as the glow returned to her sister's eyes, stronger and fiercer than ever. She moved closer to the Stone.

She tapped it softly, reversing its spin. A crystaline pinging filled the air, like a tuning fork. She began to sing. Rita grinned, and her voice joined her sister's.

The melody drifted to them as they hurried to find Libby.

"Oh, no,” Alex whispered, hearing the song. They were halfway up the stairs, and could hear her clearly.

"No,” Zorovin said. “The words aren't right."

"But they are beautiful,” Dashiel said, and they walked the rest of the way.

"What does it mean?” Melnue asked Nimue. They could see the cliff, and the glowing orb that glowed like a tiny blue moon.

Morganna answered, weeping.

"What did she say?” Melnue asked.

"It has no translation,” Nimue said then shook herself. “I don't know about you, but right now I'm so homesick I could die."

Catherine looked up at the singer. The music shuddered through her, and she felt emptier than ever before.

"Sierra?” a voice asked behind her.

She looked at the young man blankly.

"It's me,” he said. “Raul."

"I know,” she said. “We've met."

"What are you doing out here?” he asked.

"I have to kill someone.” She shivered, and he gathered her in his arms as she began to cry.

Rita thought it was the most beautiful song she'd ever heard. She sang counterpoint, embroidering her voice in and out of Libby's. Libby knew the words because she was Nimue's counterpart in magic, and Rita simply followed. She could see, in the distance, a small round shadow crossing the sky, coming closer. The other world.