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She’s standing there and it feels like a rip in time and space, an open door to everything—and yet above all what I see is my girl, funny and sweet and caring.
Her eyes are on us as we approach but her face is impassive, still. She’s under Ophelia’s enchantment, I realize. I was expecting it.
It still hits me like a punch to the chest. This is going to be our end and I had hoped… What the fuck had I hoped for? One last embrace?
Fuck that. And better if she isn’t all present for this. Better that she’s spared. I don’t doubt anymore that she loves us, that she’d do anything for us. Better that she’s not given the chance to hurt herself trying. This isn’t looking good.
Hell. We’re about to die. Not looking good at all.
I’m aware that the spell is pressing down on my thoughts, making everything seem black and final, making any fight seem pointless. But being aware of the heaviness of the approaching end isn’t enough to lift it.
I glance at the others, see their bowed heads, hunched shoulders. The ache in my muscles and bones isn’t letting up. It intensifies as the moon shines down on us, pulling on our magic, making it harder and harder to contain, and I bet they’re having the same trouble I have.
Mia could help—but she’s apart, her feet bare, the icy water of the lake lapping at them. Tied up by the enchantment.
A Dark Star. A Dark Queen. A convergence of the spheres.
And then I notice the crowd and almost stumble to my knees.
A sea of people, faces blank, eyes intent, so quiet it’s eerie, standing among the trees. The whole Academy seems to be there, students and teachers and guards. Are they enchanted or just curious? Were they invited to witness the ritual?
But then I do stumble and the guards haul me back to my feet before my knees hit the dirt.
My parents.
My parents are there, looking on as if they’re at the races and waiting for the horses to set off. And they aren’t alone. I see the parents of all four of us standing there, and elders of all the races.
“What in the holy fuck?” I lurch forward, toward them, but the enchantment tightens its leash just as my guards tighten their hold. Are we going to be a spectacle, our death a show to enjoy?
Been there, done that. How many times was I tormented in public by the vampires for all to see? How many times did I think it would be my end?
“Stop fighting, Jason.” Ophelia comes to stand in front of me.
“What are they doing here?”
“Who? Oh, your families?” She smiles and it reminds me of a snake. “I needed sponsors to get accepted into the Academy, to attend, to come this far.”
“They paid you?”
“They think I’m about to take the magic out of you and save the world. They think I’m doing the right thing. As should you.”
“Do they know you’re going to kill us?”
“If they haven’t figured it out, they’re too stupid to live. Stop fighting my enchantment, Wolf Boy. I can’t spare any more thought on you. Be quiet.”
With those words, my mind grows darker and quieter. It’s almost a relief. The guards drag me forward and I let them, my eyes on the ripples in the lake water, widening circles where fish rise to the surface, unrolling carpets of silver where the wind spreads them.
So pretty.
When they hit the back of my knees, I fold down to the ground, my eyes still on the water, my magic flaring, touching that of those around me—the elements of the other guys, Ophelia’s greedy pull, Mia’s gentle touch, the many smaller powers of the people further back.
And the moon. The moon presiding over us all, tugging on our strings, on our powers, calling the world back to its primal state before human laws and decrees.
I’m full of magic, bursting at the seams, and the moon keeps pulling. We’re ready for the plucking, for the harvesting. As Ophelia steps in front of us and raises her hands, the full moon above her head like a crown, I know that we’re nearly there.
At the end.
