Chapter Twenty-Four: Gateway

“Sophia…” a voice called to me. 

I knew that voice from somewhere… but where?

Was this the Netherworld?

It was not how I remembered.

The first thing I felt was warmth.  A sweet, soothing warmth that wrapped around me and made all the pain fade away.  Silk caressed my skin and cradled me in its embrace.  I took a steady breath in, and I tasted honey on my lips.  Music drifted through my ears, and I stirred, sighing with the sheer beauty of it.  It was like a chorus of a thousand breathtaking voices, and I could not only hear it, but feel it and smell it, a kaleidoscope of sensation and sound.

Sophia…” the voice called to me again.

That voice…

It was strong and smooth, and it beckoned me back to a time before prophecy, before war, and before dragons.  It called me back to the days where I would lie curled in front of the hearth with The Illiad.  Safe, happy, and held in the unshakable arms of the first person that I had ever loved.

Mother…”  I murmured, turning over.

The aching in my muscles was gone.  My skin had never felt so clean.  I felt as new as a babe, as fresh as morning dew, and as beautiful as the sunrise.

I was not a ghost.  This was not the Netherworld.

My eyes shot open and I bolted upright.  The tresses of my hair fluttered around my shoulders, so light and airy that I had to resist reaching up to touch them.  Color and light flooded every inch of my vision, and as I opened my eyes wider, blinking in disbelief, the image only came more into focus.

There she stood.  Her wrinkles and scars were gone.  Her eyes were a brighter gold than I remembered, and her skin glowed with an inner light.

She smiled, and her golden eyes sparkled with love.  “Sophia.”

My lips trembled.  I had a fleeting thought that I must be dreaming, that it was impossible for her to be standing before me now.  But every sense I had was singing with the music, sighing with the warmth, and dancing with the colors, all the while screaming, Real!  Real!  REAL! 

Nothing in my life had ever felt as real as this.

“Mother?” I asked, and the sound of my own voice startled me.  It was my voice, but feathery and elegant.  Not the voice of a woman who had ever screamed in pain or wept in anguish, but clean and unbroken.  New, like everything else.

“Welcome home, Sophia.”  My mother said, and she held out her arms.

I launched from the silken covers of the bed where I lay and wrapped my arms around her.  I wanted to weep, but the joy bubbling up inside me could not allow for tears.  I buried my face in her long, golden hair and breathed in her scent.  She smelled like spice.  Like sunlight in the center of a storm.  Like home.

“I have missed you…”  I sighed, “So… so much.”

“It is all right now.”  she replied, rubbing my back.  “I am here.”

I lifted my head and looked into her eyes.  “I have so much to tell you!  I have a husband… and children!  You would love them…”

Mother’s smile only widened.  “I have seen them.  And I already love them.”

My brow furrowed.  “But… how?”

Mother nodded over her shoulder.  A massive bronze gate stood in the center of the rolling hills.  I stepped towards it, and a cold wind swept my hair back over my shoulders. 

Looking into the gate was like staring into a well and trying to see the bottom.  The Netherworld hung over the earth like an ink-black shadow, twisting and changing with every ripple that ran over its surface.  If I blinked, I thought maybe I could see the people who still lived.  But their images were wrapped in a bleak fog, and the vivid colors of the reality around me called my eyes back to them.

I shivered, stepping back from the gate and into the meadow’s warm embrace. 

“It seems so small.”  I whispered.

Mother laughed.  “That is because it is small.  Everything is small in the face of eternity.”  She held out her arms again.  “Come, beloved!  There is so much you must see!”

I laughed along with her, and wrapped my arms around her again.  In life, when I held her in my arms for the last time, she seemed as though she might crumble into dust.  Now, her shoulders felt stronger than steel. 

I felt a chill against my back.  Mother unwound her arms from me, and stepped away.  Her smile was gone.  I turned my head.

Light shined out from the gate.  It was an empty light.  The rays that brushed against my skin felt cold.  Still, it seemed to reach straight for me.

“Reece has cast the sunlight charm.”  Mother said.

I held my hand out into the light.  “He did it.”

Mother nodded her head once.  “Yes.  He has illuminated a path for you, straight through the Netherworld.  If you pass through the gate, you will be able to return to Earth and live again.”

           

I pulled my hand back and frowned.  “I could go back?”

Mother’s expression did not change.  “If you so choose.”

I stared into the gate.  The longer I looked, the more it seemed the light shining from within it was darker than the world that surrounded me.  A small part of me thought of Reece and the children, but my heart did not ache for them.  It could not ache, it was too full of happiness to allow room for sadness.  How could the pain of tearing myself from this place ever compare to the tiny hollow thought of missing them?

And Mother…

“Come with me.”  I whispered.

She shook her head.  “No, Sophia.  I am at rest here.   This is the place I belong.  You belong here too, Sophia.”

I breathed in, drinking in the honeyed air and letting it warm my heart.  Butterflies with breathtaking iridescent wings danced on the breeze with music that I could see, music that shimmered like starlight on the ocean waves.  Mother was here, a thousand times more vibrant and alive than she had ever been in her youth.  I breathed in again, and closed my eyes.  This place was perfect, and in it, I was whole and new again.  Yes, I belonged here.

But, standing in the shadow of the gate, one dark memory echoed in the back of my mind.

Black mist.  An endless corridor.  The smell of ash and rain.

And a thousand other glowing figures in the night.

“Yes.” I said, opening my eyes.  “All souls belong here.  That is why I must return.”

Mother nodded her head once.  I walked into the light of the gate, still looking back over my shoulder at her.  With every step I took, she seemed to move miles and miles away.  The warmth in the center of my chest faded, as though a candle next to my heart had slowly gone out.

“Goodbye, Mother.” I said, my voice shaking.

Mother shook her head.  “No, Sophia.  This is not goodbye.  This is not the end.  We will see each other again.”

Her words gave me the courage to take the final step across the threshold.

A sob shuddered through my voice. “I will miss you every day until I do.”

It felt like falling.  As soon as my feet left the soft ground of home, they were swept away.  The cold seemed to penetrate straight through my flesh and burn away all sense of feeling.  The color drained from my outstretched fingers until all that was left was a hollow, golden shell.  Flames lapped at the surface of my skin, but I felt nothing.

Beneath me, ash and fog swirled around my feet like a rushing river.  Each step felt like dragging my legs through tar.  The path twisted and turned in circles.  Shadowy archways and corridors flew by my head, and other ghosts flickered in the darkness that lay on either side of me. 

But I kept my eyes on the light just ahead, and I kept my hand stretched out towards it.

The mist at my feet crept up higher.  The stone walls on either side of me grew blacker.  The numbness in my skin sunk down into the core of my soul until I felt nothing and heard nothing.  Even the light ahead of me dimmed.

Then, I awoke.

The dark and dreamless void was gone.  A pair of turquoise eyes stared down at me. 

Hot tears ran down his cheeks.  He let out a shaking breath and pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms so tight around me that I felt I could not breathe.  And I did not want to.

“I told you I would just bring you back.”  He whispered.

“Mommy!”  Evangeline cried.

She launched herself at me, burrowing through Reece’s arms to curl in my lap.  I laughed, clutching her shoulders and pressing my tear-streaked cheek into her hair.

We stayed locked in each other’s arms for an eternity, crying and whispering ‘I love yous’ until the sun rose.

Down in the catacombs, Orland had gained the upper hand over what was left of the Lucian coven.  

While a number of the Lucians were captured and successfully imprisoned, one figurehead was notably missing.

Gaia had escaped.

Even more disturbing, the tome with the Apocalypse Curse scrawled across its pages had vanished, and Constantine's broken body had not been left behind.

For the moment, the Lucians that were left were quiet.  The cold war that had raged for decades fell into an eerie silence.

The bodies were buried and the rubble was cleared.  Orland and Eldora began preparations for the trials of the captured Lucians.  Hale and Nirina set about planning their wedding.  I returned to work.  Things seemed to be back to normal.

 But inside my mind, a plan was taking shape.  I had a new mission to complete.

One morning, weeks later, I walked into Tome Traders.  Mr. Peters beamed the instant he saw me, and rushed out from behind the counter.

“‘Eyes that fire and sword have seen, And horror in the halls of stone, Look at last on meadows green, And trees and hills they long have known.’  It is wonderful to see you, my lady!  My humble bookshop is honored by your presence.”

“Oh please, Mr. Peters!”  I laughed and hugged him.  When I let go, I looked down at the ground and spoke in a low voice.  “I require your help again.”

Mr. Peters nodded his head and touched his hand to his heart.  “Anything you ask, my dear.”

“I need to find Philosopher Stones.”

Mr. Peter’s mouth twisted.  “Philosopher Stones?  Those… those are difficult to come by.  How many do you need?”

“As many as I can find.”

Chapter Twenty-Two: Fate

I pounded my fist against the door of Tome Traders.

“Mr. Peters!”  I shouted.

Please still be here.  Please still be here. I prayed.

I raised my hand and pounded on the door again.  Just as I struck it for the third time, the door swung open and Mr. Peters peeked out at me with bewilderment in his soft brown eyes.

“Sophia?  What are you doing standing out in the rain?”  His eyes drifted down to the golden sword I held at my side.  “No commoner carries such weapons…”

“I have no time to explain!”  I stepped inside and Mr. Peters shut the door again.  “You know Dragon Valley better than anyone.  Are there catacombs beneath the city?”

“They retreated to the lowest level of the city.”  Regan had said.  It was my only clue as to where she had gone.

“Catacombs?”  Mr. Peters scratched his head.  “Well yes, there are Catacombs.  Beneath city hall, commissioned for by the Mithrilen family in 1839 to serve as the burial place for-!”

“Do you have a map?”  I asked, already hurrying towards the back of the bookstore.

“Yes… yes of course.”  Mr. Peter stammered, rushing ahead of me and rummaging through the shelves.

I paced back and forth as I waited for him to locate the correct book.  The longer he took, the harder my heart pounded.

BOOM!

An explosive crack of thunder shook the building.  I whirled around, clasping my sword in both hands.

When the lightning faded, it was replaced by a new light.  The raindrops that battered against the window changed, taking on a soft green glow. 

My grip on my sword loosened, and I stepped forward, my eyes widening in disbelief.  “What sorcery is this?”

 I heard pages rustle and a book snap shut.  Then, Mr. Peters appeared at my side, his mouth drawn into a taunt line.

“Bewitching rain.”  he whispered, shaking his head.  “I’ve only read about it.  The atmosphere has been charged with an overpowering volume of residual magic.  There must be a large group of spellcasters practicing their arts nearby…”

He held out a book to me, his finger still tucked between the pages.  I opened the book to the page he marked and saw an extensive series of maps, precisely what I had been looking for.

 “… or one very powerful spellcaster.”  Mr. Peters murmured, tapping his fingers to his lips.  “Very… very powerful.”

I fought to swallow down the bile rising up in my throat.  Was I too late?  Did this rain mean the Lucians had already cast the curse?

I shut the book and yanked the front door open.  Immediantly, I was assaulted by a storm of the cracking green rain.  I gasped, and fell backward.  Every single drop felt as though it were charged with electricity.

I took a moment to catch my breath.  Then, biting my lip, I held my sword arm out and let the rain pour over it.  It was as if a hundred pins and needles danced across my skin.  The sensation was strange, and startling, but not unbearable.  I gripped my sword in both hands and stepped into the doorway.

I turned back to look at Mr. Peters.  “Thank you.  I-!”  My voice broke with emotion and I was forced to stop and swallow down the sob that threatened to burst from my throat.  “I do not believe I ever properly thanked you for everything that you have done for me.  For the job… and the books…  I love you dearly, Mr. Peters.  I wanted you to know that… before… before…”

Mr. Peters stared at me with the same lost, far-off look in his eyes that I had seen a hundred dozen times.  I sighed, my sword arm dropped back down to my side.

A hundred horrible images flashed through my mind.  Daria’s lush green leaves turned shriveled and brown.  Nirina’s scales blistered and bleeding from thirst.  The round baby faces of Bowen and Gawain turned gaunt and pale.

“Promise me… promise me you will be strong no matter what happens.”  I said, lifting my eyes up to Mr. Peters.  “That you will take care of and watch over my children as you did for me?  I… I am not sure that I…”

I could not force the words from my mouth.  Mr. Peters remained silent.

“Mr. Peters?  Can you promise me?”

I wanted him to say something.  Anything.  But he just stood there staring at me.  A crease appeared in the space between his brows.

I shuddered, and squeezed my eyes shut, stepping out into the rain.

“For that time it was his destiny to die…”  His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

I stopped, turning back to him.  He leaned up against a bookcase, his eyes closed.

“…or, as some say, to be carried off to Avilion, where he could wait for better days.”

“T. H. White.”  I said softly.

He smiled, his eyes still closed.

“Here lies Arthur, king once and king to be.  The Once and Future King.  I've always loved that part of Arthurian lore… the part that says though he is dead, he will one day return to complete his mission.  It leaves the ending open.  An odd thought, isn’t it?  That a mythological figure might return from the grave, and have a second chance.”

I blinked, and my lips parted.  I almost spoke, but despite the racing thoughts that flooded my mind, I had no words.  His eyes cracked open, and his small, delicate smile widened just a sliver.

He knew.

"Yes... impossible.”  I said at last.

 His head moved, just a tad, from side to side.  That knowing smile returned to his face.

“Sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” he whispered.

I clasped my hand to my mouth, tears brimming at the corners of my eyes.  Until that moment, I had not realized how much I longed to share this part of myself with him.  There were a hundred questions I wanted to ask him.  How long had he known?  How had he figured it out?  And what did he mean? 

KA-BOOM!

The heat and light seemed to strike an instant before the overpowering noise.  I whirled around and saw a tower of light and smoke surging up from somewhere near city hall.  I spared one glance backwards at Mr. Peters.  His serene expression was gone, he clasped both hands to his ears and stared back at me with wide eyes.

“Goodbye…”  I whispered, stepping backwards and plunging into the storm.

The electric rain striking my skin sent shivers up my spine.  I clutched the book of maps close to my hammering heart, and ducked my head down.  The water rushing down the street now lapped at my ankles, and took on a sick, almost radioactive, green radiance. 

Through the downpour, I could still make out the familiar shadows of town square.  That ridiculous golden statue shimmered with the light of the rain.  I spotted Regan’s car crookedly parked next to the curb, the headlights still on.

My heartbeat quickened.  I surged forward and slammed into the back of the vehicle.  My hands fumbled for the handle.

“Evangeline!”  I screamed.

I threw open the trunk.  Empty.

A rumble shuddered beneath my feet.  I looked up just in time to see a flickering column of light appear behind the statue.  I walked towards it, my breath caught in my throat.

In the back corner of one of the garden plots, a large space had been cleared.  When I grew closer, I could see that the bushes and trees had been reduced to smoking heaps of ash. 

The smell wormed its way into my lungs.

The forest in flames.  My village an inferno.  Mother.

I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood.  My feet gingerly trod through the charred remains of the garden.

At the center of the smoking brush, there was a pair of open trapdoors, and a stairway that lead down into darkness.  The smell of smoke was even stronger within.

I took one step down at a time.  Light flashed on the steps from beneath the staircase.  As I descended, the sound of the storm faded away and was replaced by the sound of magic crackling from some distant place.

Safe from the onslaught of the rain, I opened the book Mr. Peters had given me.  I held it up to the light of the torches that lined the walls.  The air in the tunnel turned colder the deeper I descended.  The sounds that echoed against the walls grew closer.

My foot hit something soft and I stumbled.  I dropped the book with an oath.  I had tripped over a body.

It was a woman.  I had never seen her before.  I brushed her dark hair from her neck and felt for a pulse.  There was nothing, and her neck was cold.  Her eyes were open and vacant, staring at me with the same icy blue irises as Constantine.  I shuddered, stepping around her and searching along the floor for the book.

I saw another body just a few feet away.  A man.  I caught sight of a third as I lifted myself to my feet.  I held my breath, my sword gripped in one hand and the book of maps in the other.

A new sound was echoing against the walls.  Raised voices.  One high-pitched, another rough, and still a third that blended in between them.  A shot rang out like cannon fire and the hallway was flooded in green light.  I froze, my fingers tensing around my sword.

One of the bodies on the floor moaned.  I gave a start.  The body shifted, and I saw that it had frosted sapphire hair.

“Regan!”  I hoisted her up into my arms. 

Her eyelids fluttered.  “He’s… too powerful…”  She coughed.  Blood dripped from her mouth.

“Who is?  Constantine?”  I glanced behind me, in the direction of the flashing light.  “Where is Evangeline?”

Regan closed her eyes, her head shook from side to side. “I’m so sorry, Sophia. I tried… I tried to catch her...”

That fiendish little imp!  I thought scornfully, even as my stomach twisted with fear.  I turned back to Regan, my grip on the sword loosening as I bent to inspect her abdomen.  “Where are you injured?”

“Stop…”  Regan murmured.  She pushed my hands away.  When I tried again, she seized my arm with an iron grip.  Her eyes were wide with fright.  “Leave me!  You have to stop him!”

At that moment, there was another rumble in the floor. The hall was illuminated with light. A shrill scream echoed among the raised voices.

A little scream I knew too well.

“Evangeline.”  I whispered.

I bolted upright, clutching my sword in both hands.  Regan’s body slumped to the floor and the book of maps thudded down next to her.  I took off running down the corridor, closer and closer to the light.

“Evangeline!”  I screamed, bursting into a room at the end of the corridor.

Someone attacked me from behind, her arms going for my throat.  I whirled around and ran her through, casting her body off to the side.  I turned, and there was a wand pointed in my direction.  I swept my blade through it, sending its sparking pieces to the floor, and slammed my fist into the face of the wizard who held it.

“Mommy!”  I heard a cry across the room.

My little girl stood shaking in Constantine’s shadow.  He squeezed both of her forearms in his massive, calloused hands.

A sly smile curled at the corners of his lips.  “Well… isn’t this interesting.”

From the center of the room, a low, rough voice spoke.  Every word quivered with rage.  “What is she doing here?”

I stared back at my daughter’s wide eyes, and then focused on Constantine’s hands clenched around her arms.  Both hands.  He was not practicing magic.  Then who…?

I turned, my eyes darting around the room.  Gaia stood in front of an open tome, her jade eyes narrowed at me.  Quintessa was just a few feet away, her wand at the ready.  At the back of the room, in front of a boiling cauldron, was a woman I did not recognize.

Hundreds of candles formed a circle on the floor, and in the center of them…

“Quintessa.”  the rough voice spoke again.  The towering figure in the center of the room squeezed his hand into a fist and the veins that lined his muscled arms bulged out.  “What. Is. She. Doing.  Here.”

I ceased to breathe.  My eyes were locked on the tattoos that encircled his arms.  His skin was a tapestry of claws and teeth.  The heads and tails of dragons were intertwined on his shoulders and wrapped around his wrists.

Quintessa shook her head, her mouth open.  “I… I can dispose of her, my Lord.  Please, continue the ritual…”

But her wand made no move towards me.

 “You told me you would take care of her.”  The man in the center of the room said, turning as he did.  “That was the only reason I agreed to this!”

He looked different without his elegant suit and his finely combed hair.  Like some deeper, more feral side of him had been unleashed.  But staring at him now, it was hard to believe I had ever known him any other way.  The rich young bachelor had been nothing but a façade.

“Thane!”  Gaia snapped, drawing her wand out.  Her eyes were on me.  “The ritual!  We only have until-!”

Thane shoved out his hands and light exploded from his fingertips.  Quintessa was blown off her feet and sent hurtling into the wall.  Every inch of the room crackled with magic.  I felt the energy send tremors through my bones.

He had no wand.

“Stop!”  Gaia screamed.  “Stop it!”

Her voice sounded like it came from the end of a long dark tunnel.  I took an instinctive step backward, my eyes trailing up the walls as tendrils of green mist floated up to the cavern roof.  The flashing in the catacombs, the residual magic turning the rain outside into a bewitching storm of horror, it had all been him.

My lungs were constricting into my chest, my blood turning to ice in my veins.

“I told you, it doesn’t matter!”  Quintessa shouted, coughing and sputtering as she lifted herself from the floor.  “Kitsune was nothing but a greedy lunatic!  We all knew it!  Tell him, father!”

I was screaming for my feet to move, but they would not budge.  I was paralyzed.  I could not breathe, but I still smelled smoke.

“Shut up!”  Thane shouted.  His hands went up again, and once again Quintessa was blasted into the wall.

His eyes.  Those fiery eyes that had always brewed unease in the pit of my stomach.

“Enough!”  Gaia pointed at me with her wand.  “Kyra… get rid of her!”

The young red-haired witch in the back started forward, her wand drawn.

“No!”  Thane held his arm out in front of the red-haired witch. 

His mouth curled into a blood-chilling wry smile.  He glared down at me, and I was entrapped in the heat of his eyes. 

“I’m going to kill you again.”

How could I have ever forgotten those eyes?

“Emrys.” I breathed.