My feet land on the dusty earth. I open my eyes.
This too has changed.
That fierce wind has died away. The sky no longer hangs so oppressive and dark. And that tornado seems to spin with less force.
One thing hasn’t changed, though. The demons still sweep in and out of that swirling mass.
We don’t give them a chance to notice us.
We combine our magic, something that’s becoming easier and second nature to the five of us, and send it shooting through the gray air toward that towering mass.
It hits it with an almighty thwack and the tower of shadows trembles, swaying first one way and then the other.
It sends the demons into a frenzy. They squawk and crow, flying manically about, so manically they crash into one another, slam against each other’s bodies, slicing through wings and sinewy skin.
The giant tornado seems to push back. It’s like the giant trunk of a tree unwilling to be felled.
I grit my teeth, furrow my brow, and push with all my might, forcing my light forward and with it my mates’ shadow magic too.
The tornado howls, and the demons are even more frantic now, unable to discern which way is up, which way is down. Crashing to the ground. Fighting one another in their confusion.
The air is thick with ash from these dead creatures, and I cough, screwing shut my eyes against the force of it.
“Keep going,” Thorne urges us all.
And we do, even though my arms are now trembling, my back aches, and my legs feel weak. I keep pushing against the force. I can feel it at the very end of my magic, so dark and so evil. It sends shivers of ice racing down my spine.
I’m on the verge of giving up, of admitting defeat, of thinking that maybe we aren’t powerful enough after all.
But we are.
Because there’s a loud screech.
And the tornado rips in half. Like a tree struck by lightning.
The dark magic cascades and spins chaotically away, and we’re forced to duck, falling to the ground as bits of it shoot over our heads, exploding onto the earth.
Some of it shoots up into the sky, far up into the heavens, and the rest of it just seems to disperse away like dirt dissolving into water.
When it’s safe enough, I remove my hands from my head and raise my eyes.
The gigantic tornado is no more. It’s gone. Just dust floating to the ground now, not one demon in sight.
“We did it,” I say.
And as if to prove my words are correct, those thick blankets of dark clouds overhead roll away. And bright sunshine strikes down toward the ground.
It lights up this world, this wasteland, this once uninhabitable realm, painting color into every object it touches.
The old tree stumps. The great fault in the earth. The ground we’re lying on. The sunlight paints them with browns and reds, ochres, even greens.
It remains a barren wasteland. There’s no real sign of life, apart from the five of us lying on our bellies, and yet it’s so much more beautiful than it was just a moment ago.
I climb back to my feet, brushing off the dust and dirt and ash from my head and my body. The others do the same.
Dray looks out toward the horizon that must have lain all this time behind that tornado, where brown earth meets blue sky.
“We could go exploring,” he says. “See what’s out there. What lies beyond.” He looks back at me, joy and excitement in his colorful eyes. “You like an adventure, don’t you, Little Kitten?”
