But fear is still one of our most primal emotions. It can blind us.
And—if we can quiet our thoughts long enough to allow for grace, for hope—that same fear can unite us.
Doc always said conquering fear begins with presence and awareness. But love is part of that too, more powerful than any other emotion, than any other weapon the Dark Arcana can wield.
Doc’s voice isn’t the only one in my head now, giving me hope and grace. I hear Kirin too, keeping me focused, helping me put together the puzzle pieces that might just save our lives.
The curse isn’t that the light and the dark exist within us—that’s just our nature. The curse is that we will always be drawn to both, and anything can happen—at any point—to flip the switch… Here’s the most terrifying part… It’s not that the Dark Magician wants the objects so he can control magick, or that Dark Judgment may be trying to raise the dead. It’s that they represent what each of us has the potential to become. The very things that made them go dark exist in all Arcana witches and mages…
Lala’s in my memory now, her kindness and wisdom a beacon in the darkness.
True love is a formidable force on its own. When it sees itself reflected in the heart of another, it will lay bare and burn down anything that stands in the way of that union. The process can be terrifying and painful, but it’s wholly necessary. Only love has the power to dismantle our fears and set free the pure, limitless heart within.
The Magician… Even he has something to say.
They were willing to die for the cause they believed in. Can you say the same of your Arcana brothers? Of yourself? All the people and things and causes you claim to value… How far are you willing to go to stand up for them, Starla Milan…
The voices eddy and swirl, filling me with hope and knowledge, with courage and strength. But of all the voices in my head, it’s the Magician’s that inspires me now, igniting a fire in my chest that burns hotter than any witchfire.
I pull myself to my feet, my magick already working its healing energy, my rage pulling double duty.
“Kirin,” I call out, my voice strong and clear. “Baz.”
Across the room, my mages help each other to their feet, bruised and bloodied, but alive. Standing. Strong.
“I know where they are,” I say, before they can even ask, recalling the visions the Dark Magician showed me at the Fool’s Grave, the secrets he spilled in his eagerness to shine. I remember one of Mom’s prophecies too, one Kirin and I were working on the day the news broke from California, all the pieces slowly clicking into place.
Cities kneel before the flames
Thus begins the deadly game
When hope is lost the Star shall fall
As Death arrives to conquer all
From the ashes, called to rise
With blackened hearts and golden eyes
Souls imprisoned in a tomb
Soldiers marching for our doom
“We can save them,” I say. “Both of them. I know where we have to go.”
Lala’s voice returns to me, reciting another prophecy.
Thus her ache shall find no ease, so shall the daughter of The World surrender to the emptiness, to the void within and without. By her own hand, of her own volition, The Star shall fall. Henceforth she shall take her eternal breath in utter darkness.
“What are you talking about?” Baz finally makes it across the room, gathering me into his arms. Kirin comes to stand beside us, encircling us both in a powerful embrace.
Love. Strength. Fear. Hope. Courage. Passion. Rage. All of it is ours, to accept and to wield. To learn from. To nurture.
“Where do we have to go?” Kirin asks.
Out in the hallway, Carly and Professor Broome are still attacking the door, hitting it with every spell in their arsenal. The wood is just beginning to splinter, hope shining through the cracks.
I think back again to what the Dark Magician revealed. The witches and mages he corrupted… They’re dead, their bodies reanimated by his dark magick, their souls imprisoned for all eternity, nowhere to call home.
