Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ava
As soon asmy foot touched the porch, the winds screaming around the house expanded around me. The bushes and trees were bent nearly in two by the force of the gale, but to me it was a gentle breeze.
Rhiannon and her creature appeared nearby. The tempest tore at her clothes and hair for a moment but she closed her eyes and suddenly the wind no longer touched her. Her creature stared at me with malevolent black eyes, his humanity completely lost in the frenzy to feed. He was glutted with energy, electricity snapping and sparking around him.
“Sister,” she greeted me, her voice a sinister whisper in the roaring wind.
“Don’t you mean niece?” I retorted. My reply was dry and devoid of emotion.
Genuine surprise crossed her face. “Mother has told you more than I expected.”
“She told me everything,” I stated. “And she gave me the means to defeat you.”
Rhiannon laughed. I’d expected it. “Maybe it would have worked before my pet fed and shared his power with me. But now…” She stopped speaking and lifted her hands.
Immediately, the power twisting and turning around the house stopped. Without the deafening wind, even the silence seemed too loud. I sensed her triumph as she sucked the power into herself, feeding her own until she was brimming with it. She was full of magic, stronger than she had ever been. Even stronger than me.
It was exactly what I wanted.
When I laughed, her smile faltered. I could still feel the glittering well of power within me. I had more than enough for what came next.
I could feel Arien behind me, her body nearly touching mine. Without looking, I lifted a hand, erected a wall of magic between our bodies and everyone behind us.
Kerry gasped and I heard Macgrath growl. I knew they wouldn’t understand what I was doing, but it was necessary. I needed space and time for what came next.
“Ava.” Macgrath’s voice was a low rumble, a warning and a threat.
I glanced over my shoulder at him. “I need you to trust me, Ewan. And I’m sorry it has to be this way.”
His face changed then, his eyes growing wide and his fangs elongating. “What are you doing?” He stepped forward but he couldn’t move more than a foot before he hit the shield. “If you think you’re going to sacrifice yourself, you can forget it. I will break down any wall between us before you have a chance.”
I smiled at him and I wondered if it looked like my grandmother’s smile when we spoke of Rhiannon earlier. I imagined that it did. “There is no need for me to sacrifice myself. But I am giving up something that we both wanted.”
Confusion stole over his features. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. I only want you to be safe.”
Dampness welled in my eyes because I knew that wasn’t true. I could see into his heart.
“Our vengeance,” I murmured. “I gave up our revenge for what Rhiannon did to us and what she did to our daughter.”
I could see and feel the anger then. “You had no right,” he growled, moving forward again until he bumped into the ward that I’d raised between us.
“Maybe not,” I agreed, “But it’s done. I promised the Goddess to spare her child, to show mercy where our enemy did not. I will fulfill my vow.”
I turned away from him then, knowing that he would be too angry to be reasoned with. I only hoped that we could resolve it once this was all over.
Regardless, I would not regret this. After speaking with the Goddess, I knew that this was the right path. The path to light and freedom.
Rhiannon watched and waited. Now that I understood her and knew what she truly was to me, I could touch her mind. I could feel her glee and her anticipation at having me at her mercy.
But beneath that was an ocean of pain. So deep and wide that it was unending. Her time as a mortal hadn’t twisted Rhiannon, it had broken her.
With each new agony, she’d distanced herself from her emotions. She refused to acknowledge that she needed love and that she hurt for humanity. That she felt empathy for the people she harmed.
Her denial remained until the chasm between her pain and her heart was so great that she believed she would never bridge it.
Seeing it and feeling it, I was glad I had listened to my grandmother. After the ritual was complete, she would feel it all, everything that she denied, and it would be a far worse punishment than death. And she would have to live with that pain for century after century, just as I had lived with her curse for two thousand years.
