Nic found the pulsing umbilical cord that tethered the demon to a place beyond, not the spirit realm, but an origin point anathema to both humans and the harmonious entities of the world they occupied.She couldn’t sever the cord the way Alise would, because that would set the demon loose in their world with no pathway to use to banish it.Instead, shepulled, dragging the demon backwards with the tether.The monster didn’t change position physically, but its ethereal self began to elongate.
It fought her, clinging to the anchor of Alise, still obscured by its bulk.Nic couldn’t think about whether Alise lived or died.She focused all of her considerable attention, honed when she could practice nothing else of magic, on dragging the demon back, pushing it back through, forcing it to wedge more and more of its bulk through the portal that should never have been opened.With all the strength, fortitude, and determination she’d forged from disappointment, from love, from carrying and birthing her child, Nic used everything she was and had become, to send the demon back.
It vanished with a boom like thunder, the atmosphere rushing back to fill the unnatural gap in space and time the demon had forced its way into.
Mentally checking that her father remained unconscious, Nic went to Alise, clinging to hope that Alise had not been the final sacrifice to the grand experiment of changing their world.Bloodied, broken, and—worst of all—nearly drained of all her vital life force, Alise lay like a scrap of wilted lettuce.But she lived.
“Now, Jonathan,” she called, and the healer—still shaking with terror from what he’d witnessed—dashed to them without hesitation.A courage and dedication to his craft she admired.
Leaving him to save Alise, firmly telling herself her sister would live, Nic picked her way across the gory floor to her father’s prostrate form.She bound him with moonsilver, surprised she still possessed plenty of magic.But the triad of Gabriel’s and hers shone steady as a pyramid within her.Methodically, she stripped her father of every spirit he’d bound to himself over a lifetime of wizardry.It wouldn’t stop him from summoning more, but she could match him for pace there and he was in far worse shape than she was.
In fact, he’d hollowed himself out as a living being.Whatever he’d done to summon the demon, it had fed from him, too.They wouldn’t have to kill him; he was already dying, from the inside out.And he’d done it to himself.
Fitting.
She crouched, aware she echoed the demon’s posture over Alise, and shook her father awake.He opened his one intact black eye, glaring in helpless fury.“You’re dying,” she told him, feeling oddly gentle in this moment.“Now is the time to say anything you have left unsaid.”
He spat at her, weakly, a bloodied bubble that dripped down his distorted cheek.“I have nothing to say to you,” he grated out, barely enough force for the sound to make it to her.
“That’s all right,” she said in an agreeable tone.“I only offered for your sake.”She stood and brushed off the skirts of her Ophiel gown, the magic of it having kept it startlingly fresh.
“Wait.”He coughed, a rattling, watery sound.
Nic turned back.
“H—how?”
She knew what he asked.“The hidden data.Familiars can become wizards.I’m a wizard now, just as you always wanted.Too late now though.”A pang of grief ran through her at that thought, but she also finally let go of that old dream, of being her father’s heir and working with him.It never would have been that way, she realized.Maybe part of her had always known, but now she understood the full truth.“You didn’t want me to be a wizard, did you?”she asked, not really expecting an answer.
He glared at her balefully.“No.You were too much.Too…” His voice trailed off as he faded into death.Nic watched his spirit detach from his body and dissolve.
“Famous last words,” she murmured.“Maman, this was for you.”
~29~
Cillian heard theboom like thunder and felt the jagged displacement of magic, of worlds colliding that should never touch.It jerked him from his concentration, startling him.Followed by a rush of fear.
Alise.
He was out of his chair and running for the door before he knew he’d moved.
“What was that?”Iliana demanded.
“The experiments,” Han said.
“No.Worse.”Cillian was out the door and running down the hall, vaguely aware of the two familiars behind him.He’d known he shouldn’t have let himself be parted from Alise.They’d vowed to stay together always.But when he’d said so, she’d teased him that their promise didn’t mean being constantly joined at the hip.
He should have insisted.
Coming around the corner, he barely processed the blood, the devastation of the once-graceful hallway.Nic stood over Lord Elal, face stark with grief and triumph.He was dead then.Beyond her, Healer Jonathan glowed within a nimbus of green healing magic, Alise under his hands.He bolted forward, but Nic stepped to intercept him, taking him by the shoulders.
“She’ll be all right,” she told him firmly, holding him when he sagged.“Jonathan says she’ll recover, but you have to let him work.
“What happened?”he asked, knowing she was right and making himself stand back.“How did Elal get in here?”
Nic shook her head.“I don’t know.We’ll find out.But we have to convene the council anyway.It worked, Cillian.I’m a wizard now.So is Seliah.”
Behind him, Iliana exclaimed something.Belatedly, Cillian realized Nic’s eyes had already gone almost completely black.She’d always bloomed with powerful magic, but it had subtly changed.“Can you still take alternate form?”he asked.
