Ch. 11: Darkness has no limits

Back to Arheled

             Four   days   passed   as   they   travelled   down   the   steep   and   endless   honeycomb   of   tunnels   underneath   Tartarus. Sometimes   it   was   too   steep   to   walk,   and   then   Forest   would   paint   another   hovercar   and   unpaint   it   when   it   was   no   longer   needed. Little   was   spoken. The   pervasive   gloom   of   the   dark   world   weighed   their   hearts   like   lead. The   air   was   foul   and   filled   with   evil   fumes;   but   they   barely   noticed   this,   protected   by   the   virtue   of   the   cloaks. There   was   no   light   save   what   Lara   gave   out,   dying   away   before   and   behind;   and   outside   it,   waiting   emptiness,   a   living   void. Then   they   would   stop   and   eat,   and   walk   on   further,   until   at   last   Ronnie’s   watch   told   him   evening   had   come   in   the   world   they   had   known,   and   Lara   would   go   dark   and   the   void   closed   over   them,   and   they   could   rest. How   Ronnie   knew   when   to   get   up   was   anybody’s   guess,   but   he   always   seemed   able   to   tell   when   seven   hours   had   passed,   and   when   he   woke   Lara   up   and   they   could   see   his   watch,   he   was   usually   right.

             Their   peculiar   fellowship   seemed   less   and   less   a   unit,   despite   their   now-habitual   deference   to   Ronnie’s   leadership,   as   the   mounting   weariness   pressed   on   them   all   and   the   dreaded   Hallow’s   Eve   weighed   on   their   minds   with   its’   ever-swifter   approach. Brooke,   Lara   and   Travel   seemed   to   condense   into   a   clique,   tighter   every   day. Bell   was   more   or   less   outside   it,   admitted   as   a   girl   and   yet   unwelcome   because   of   her   youth. Ronnie   and   Forest   on   the   outskirts   were    disregarded,   save   for   Ronnie’s   leadership   and   orders   which   they   listlessly   obeyed;   they   were   males,   aliens   and   potential   foes,   to   be   silently   resisted   and rebelled   against. The   two   boys   in   response   formed   another   unit,   unspeaking,   seldom   glancing   at   each   other   yet   with   a   grim   sense   of   brothers.

             Every   night   Forest   was   troubled   with   dreams. He   spoke   of   them   to   Ronnie   by   tapping   his   arm   and   meeting   his   eyes;   he   felt   no   desire   to   make   sound. Nor   to   give   the   women   any   new   weapons   in   their   artillery. Ronnie   told   them   sometimes,   if   he   judged   it   needful;   but   the   rest   he   kept   to   himself. And   they   were   queer   dreams   indeed. He   would   see   his   mother   and   many   others   asleep,   the   Wild   Man   standing   in   brooding   silence   over   them   and   sometimes   talking   bitterly   to   no   one;   or   he   would   see   Wayham   Lane   on   a   barnacle-eaten   ship,   crouched   and   fearful,   with   a   horrible   presence   of   black   shadow   singing   dreadful   words   of   darkness   triumphant. He   saw   dragons   prowling   around   the   house   of   the   Lanes,   and   his   father   blazing   brighter   than   the   sun. In   the   world   outside   it   was   growing   steadily   colder. Every   time   they   came   to   a   passage   that   went   more   sharply   down,   they   took   it. It   was   never   dark,   now:   the   stone   around   them   glowed   with   heat,   and   sometimes   drops   of   molten   rock   would   fall   from   the   ceiling.

             On   what   Ronnie   calculated   was   the   23rd   of   October,   they   began   to   enter   the   true   infernos. As   they   drew   farther   below   the   coldness   of   Tartarus,   it   had   grown   steadily   warmer,   until   sweat   beaded   constantly   and   Lara   had   to   radiate   coolness   as   well   as   light,   and   shield   them   with   a   coolness-spell   when   they   stopped   for   sleep. But   now   the   rock   was   so   hot   it   glowed   a   faint   but   perceptible   hue,   and   only   their   enchanted   shoes   protected   them   from   the   scorching   air   and   floor. At   last   they   came   into   a   long   and   snakelike   shaft,   which   had   no   side   passages,   and   this   led   in   worming   zigzags   too   steep   for   feet. They   boarded   Forest’s   hovercar—now   with   a   bubble   over   it   and   heatproof   abilities—and   cruised   down   the   ever   brighter   tunnel. Red   light   wavered   on   the   walls. At   last   they   came   out   into   the   sort   of   places   they   had   dreaded.

             Rivers   of   lava   streamed   ponderously   past,   glowing   red   and   hot   orange   and   angry   yellow. Falls   of   glopping   flame   poured   steadily   from   many   fissures   to   feed   them. Winding   lanes   of   crust   and   even   bridges   of   it   snaked   about   between   the   streams   and   pools. There   seemed   no   end   to   the   lava   seas. Sometimes   the   roof   met   them;   sometimes   it   rose.

             “But   there   has   to   be   a   way.”   Ronnie   said.

             “I   suppose   you   don’t   know   that   the   Earth’s   outer   core   is   liquid?”   said   Lara   with   heavy   irony. “I   bet   we’re   standing   on   the   surface   of   it.”

             Travel   cried   out. “Watch   out! Someone   just   teleported   in   here.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “How   do   you   know?”   said   Brooke.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   teleport,   okay? I   can   feel   it   when   somebody   else   does   it   nearby.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   have   come   to   the   last   end,   Children   of   the   Road.” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   scorching   voice   seemed   to   come   from   every   direction,   mingled   with   the   thick   bubbling   and   gurgled   thunder   of   the   lava   dens.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “The   Road   resides   within   us.”   said   Ronnie. “If   we   find   no   way,   a   way   will   we   make.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “And   how   will   you   do   that,   O   Hill   of   the   Road? The   lava   will   melt   all   the   cold   she   can   put   into   it. Will   you   affine   with   stone,   as   Brooke   does   with   water? Will   you   call   to   the   lava,   and   have   it   politely   step   aside? Even   the   dragons   must   teleport   through   here.” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Lara   turned   blue   in   an   instant. Pure   cold   radiated   from   her   hands. And   across   that   entire   chamber   all   the   lava   turned   instantly   into   stone. Frost   began   to   condense   on   the   cooled   rock. Breath   came   like   smoke.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “There   he   is.”   she   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I’ve   got   him.”   said   Brooke. Cords   of   solid   water   lifted   into   view   a   white   dragon,   with   wings   of   sea-green,   green   fire   belching   from   him   and   already   boiling   the   water.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “A   fire-dragon.”   sniffed   Lara. “How   pathetically   easy.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Watch   him!”   shouted   Ronnie   “He’s   the   oldest   of   the   dragon-born! He’s—“

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   white   dragon   vanished. And   reappeared   beside   Brooke.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “—Kevin.”   finished   Ronnie.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   dragon   teleported   out   of   their   circle,   Bell   in   his   grasp. “How   well   you   guess.”   he   smiled. “It   so   happens   you   are   right.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Kevin??”   Brooke   said   in   a   voice   as   if   she   could   not   breathe.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Hello,   my   dear.”   Kevin   smiled,   a   hideous   dragon’s   smile. “And   no,   Lara,   don’t   even   think   about   quenching   me. You   see,   I   know   you   people. You   would   never   risk   one   of   your   own. You   are   weak. She   is   easily   spared,   for   she   has   no   power   unless   she   is   in   the   Churches. But   yet   you   will   not   make   a   sacrifice,   letting   her   die   that   I   may   be   killed. For   if   any   of   you   so   much   as   thinks   about   using   your   powers—especially   against   me—little   Ding-dong   gets   to   go   swimming.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Her   shoes   can   tread   lava!”   shouted   Travel. Brooke   was   clutching   her   stomach,   her   eyes   tormented.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Oh,   I   know   they   are   enchanted,”   said   the   dragon,   “but   are   they   like   the   Dragon-helm   of   Dor-lomin? Do   they   defend   the   wearer   from   fire,   though   he   be   naked   elsewhither? I   don’t   really   think   you   want   to   find   out. I   have   a   dragon’s   power. I   can   teleport   her   wherever   I   please.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   snickered. “Why,   River-babe,   darling,   you   seem   a   little   upset. Thought   I   was   gone,   did   you? No   dragon   ever   really   dies. Our   Father   always   finds   us. Such   a   tender,   caring   father   he   is. No   peace   of   the   end   for   us. Always,   always,   the   wheel   of   time,   the   mournful   cycle   of   reincarnation. No   sense   wasting   a   dragon-born,   you   know.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Bell’s   stained   wrists   glowed   green.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Shock   showed   in   Kevin’s   eyes,   even   as   each   eye   flew   up   in   different   directions,   accompanied   by   fragments   of   head. Springing   out   of   his   embrace   beams   of   green   energy   jutted   from   her   wrists,   dicing   apart   the   convulsing   corpse.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Oh   no! Not   when   she’s   so   close   to   him!”   shouted   Ronnie.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Travel’s   power   grabbed   Bell   in   mid-scream   and   transported   her. Bell   appeared,   still   screaming. She   was   drenched   with   dragon-blood;   it   had   soaked   her   clothes   as   if   she   had   swum   in   it. Already   it   was   corroding   them. But   her   skin   seemed   to   drink   the   dark   substance   like   paint,   and   despite   Brooke’s   hasty   scouring   of   Bell   with   water-jets,   her   flesh   remained   an   angry   red   as   if   sunburned. She   was   in   great   pain. She   howled   and   moaned   continuously,   and   it   took   the   full   strength   of   the   others   to   hold   her   still.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   do   we   do? What   do   we   do?”   Brooke   babbled.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Ronnie,”   said   Travel,   looking   up   with   tears   in   her   eyes,   “you   know   all   the   old   tales. What   happens   when   you   bathe   in   dragon’s   blood?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Forest   was   already   spreading   the   essence   of   raspberry   over   his   sister.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “That   will   do   no   good,   Forest.”   said   Ronnie   in   a   hurried   voice. “First   take   away   her   pain. White   willow. Now.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             A   white   mist   came   from   Forest’s   hands. Bell’s   spasms   stopped   and   she   uttered   a   long   sigh. Forest   followed   up   with   opium   and   poppyseed,   until   his   sister   slumbered   peacefully,   her   brows   still   knotted   with   the   pain.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Will.”   ''she   be   all   right? ''   he   said   brokenly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “There   is   no   cure   for   dragon’s   blood.”   said   Ronnie   softly. “Strange   things   happen   in   the   tales. Fafnir’s   blood,   in   the   German   version   of   the   Sigurd   legend,   gave   him   invulnerability   when   he   bathed   in   it;   save   for   where   a   leaf   stuck   to   his   skin. Turin   was   merely   burned;   he   never   lived   long   enough   to   find   out   if   Glaurung’s   blood   gave   power. I’ve   heard   it   mentioned   as   an   elixir   of   immortality. But   I   think   the   price   of   pain   too   great   to   pay.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   bent   over   her,   smoothing   her   curls. “Power   or   pain,   we   will   know   when   she   wakes. I   will   carry   her.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Ronnie,”   said   Travel   in   a   strained   voice,   “another   one’s   coming.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “To   the   cave-end!”   Ronnie   barked. They   vanished,   even   as   a   green   dragon   appeared   almost   on   top   of   where   they’d   been. He   gave   a   disgusted   snort   and   vanished   again.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   company   appeared   on   an   island   of   stone. A   great   lake   of   bubbling   lava   spread   around   them. The   molten   rock   had   eaten   away   at   the   base   until   the   edges   overhung   like   a   toadstod;   how   much   stem   was   underneath,   none   cared   to   guess.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “This   is   the   cave’s   end?”   said   Ronnie   dryly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   thought   it   was!”   defended   Travel.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   feel   anyone   teleporting   in?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “He   vanished   again,   but   I   don’t   feel   him   now.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “He’s   flying.”   muttered   Ronnie. “In   fact,   there   he   is.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   instant   they   sighted   him,   the   dragon   vanished. Looking   all   around,   no   one   saw   the   young   man   who   suddenly   appeared   in   their   midst.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Hey,   kid   sis.”   breathed   a   voice   in   Brooke’s   ear. She   whirled   around,   to   find   herself   face   to   face   with   her   dead   brother.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Ben??”   she   gasped.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             His   fist   connected   with   her   head and   they   both   vanished.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   have   just   about   had   it   with   dragons   popping   off   with   us.”   fumed   Travel. Ronnie   seized   her   arm   and   both   of   them   vanished.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Brooke   and   her   brother   appeared   on   a   high   ledge   over   a   river   of   slow   fire. The   heat   smote   them. Bean   smiled   dreadfully. “Wake   up,   sis.”   he   sneered. “I   want   you   to   know   that   it   is   me   that   is   enjoying   you. I   want   to   feel   your   disgust. And   then,”   he   glanced   down   below,   “we’ll   see   if   you   can   quench   lava.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I’ll   kill   you   if   you   touch   me,   big   bro.”   Brooke   gasped.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You’re   too   woozy   to   do   more   than   soak   me.”   her   brother   laughed.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Water   vomited   from   him,   holding   her   like   steel. He   stretched   forth   his   hands   to   caress   her,   the   water   flexing   at   his   touch.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             All   his   hands   met   was   water. He   frowned,   bewildered. A   shape   of   water   stood   before   him,   a   smile   upon   her   transparent   features,   even   as   she   merged   with   his   bonds   and   shot   down   into   his   throat.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Aaaggglugggg!!”   he   choked. Before   he   could   shift   shape   to   dragon   or   eject   her   substance   from   him,   his   body   began   to   split   apart.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             A   horrible   expression   came   over   him. Slowly   his   flesh   sealed   back   together. Reaching   into   his   mouth   he   seized   her   substance   and   pulled,   hand   over   hand,   reeling   her   out   of   him. Black   magic   held   her   bound. He   pulled   her   out   of   him   and   held   her   up,   a   ball   of   water   writhing   in   his   grasp.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Enjoy   your   hot   tub.”   he   whispered,   and   his   power   plunged   her   mercilessly   toward   the   lava.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Travel   and   Brooke   appeared   behind   him. Travel   and   the   ball   of   water   glowed   blue. The   power    of   the   Road   fought   with   the   power   of   black   magic. The   ball   hovered   in   midair,   unable   to   descend:   the   two   forces   were   equal. Then   the   fist   of   Ronnie   met   the   head   of   Ben. His   grip   broke. Travel   and   the   Brooke-water   vanished. And   Ben   and   Ronnie   were   left,   facing   each   other   alone.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Well,   well,   bro.”   said   Ben. “You’re   getting   good. But   I’m   getting   better.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “And   you   think   that   dragon-spell   can   overcome   the   Hill   of   the   Road?”   snarled   Ronnie. ''   “Look   upon   my   eyes,   and   gaze   into   their   depths!” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Travel,   reappearing,   was   in   time   to   see   Ben’s   stiff   corpse,   the   face   frozen   into   an   expression   of   unutterable   horror,   topple   slowly   from   the   ledge   and   burst   into   flame   even   as   the   lava   pulled   it   down.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   reappeared   to   find   the   island   was   no   longer   there. It   was   ten   feet   downstream,   floating   away. With   a   sickening   jolt   of   panic   they   felt   themselves   fall   feetfirst   into   the   liquid   fire.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Their   feet   and   lower   legs   were   intolerably   hot,   but   they   were   not   dead. They   opened   their   eyes   to   find   themselves   embedded   to   the   calves   in   a   small   island   of   cooled   rock:   their   shoes   had   indeed   defended   them   from   lava.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   did   this?”   said   Travel.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   mean   who.”   said   Lara,   and   pointed. There,   hovering   on   brooms,   were   two   young   witches,   a   voluptuous   brunette   with short   hair,   and   a   girl   with   longer   blond   hair. Julian   and   Delilah. Giggling   like   kids   they   pointed   their   wands. Their   magic,   visible   now   like   green   witchfire,   sprang   against   the   Children   of   the   Road.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “So   far   the   power   of   the   Church   is   holding   them   off.”   said   Lara. “But   that’s   why   I   haven’t   been   able   to   freeze   the   cave.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Then   maybe   it’s   time   to   go   down.”   said   Ronnie.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Lara’s   hands   began   to   seethe   with   cold,   but   Ronnie   shook   his   head. “Not   you. Him.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             As   Lara   watched   in   disbelief,   Forest   moved   to   the   front.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Oh,   it’s   that   little   kid   Forest   from   down   the   street! How   cu-ute!”   Delilah   whooped,   soaring   to   the   ceiling.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “And   he’s   got   a   paintbrush! Oh,   I’m so   scared,   Mommie   take   me   home.”   taunted   Julian.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Green   fire   sprang   from   Forest’s   paintbrush.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   should   be.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   brush   whirled   like   pinwheels   of   lightning. A   cage   of   woven   crucifixes   sprang   into   being   around   the   witches,   and   inside   them   were   dense   nets   of   holly,   constricting   slowly   inward,   thorns   long   as   spines. The   witches   screamed   in   pain,   both   physical   and   spiritual,   as   holy   thorns   ground   into   their   flesh.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Let   them   fry   there   awhile.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   stabbed   the   paintbrush   down. The   sea   of   fire   turned   instantly   to   stone. In   blindingly   swift   strokes   he   painted   a   bottomless   hole,   and   the   island   broke   loose   and   transformed   into   another   of   his   famous   hovercars. Impressed   despite   themselves,   the   girls   strapped   in. Bell   still   slumbered.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   descended   for   mile   after   mile,   falling   at   a   speed   that   made   their   hair   stream   upward,   the   shaft   closing   and   melting   behind   them,   Forest’s   paintbrush   moving   endlessly. Lara   was   aiding   him   with   her   Cold,   freezing   the   lava   ahead   into   stone. Five   times   they   stopped   to   sleep,   Forest’s   brush   painting   an   unbreakable   heatproof   shell   around   them. Whether   they   had   drifted   in   the   heavy   currents   of   convection   far   within   the   Outer   Core,   they   did   not   know,   they   could   not   help   it   if   they   had. On   the   third   night   Forest   dreamed   of   cold   bitter   rain   in   the   bare   forests,   only   beech   and   oak   still   keeping   leaf,   and   then   the   rain   became   wet   snow,   half   an   inch   deep   upon   the   fallen   leaves.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             On   the   twenty-first   day   of   their   journey,   Oct. 28th,   they   came   out   into   winding   tunnels. The   tunnel   sides   were   not   rock   at   all,   but   a   squirming   mass of   half-melted   stone   kept   back   by   some   terrible   power;   whether   command   or   spell   they   did   not   know. Bell   was   awake   now   and   claimed   to   feel   fine,   but   her   skin   was   still   an   ugly   sunburn   and   Ronnie   wasn’t   so   sure.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   hours   that   followed   became   a   long   running   nightmare. Dragons   came   at   them   without   any   warning   save   Travel’s   instincts,   and   fighting   and   parrying   and   eluding   began   to   run   together   in   their   minds. Forest   took   out   the   Gravity   Dragon   by   painting   him   apart;   he   had   absorbed   everyone’s   powers   and   Ronnie   could   not   find   his   eyes   due   to   them   absorbing   light. Ice-dragons   found   themselves   outmatched. Others   were   Fire   and   easily   quenched. Some   Travel   teleported   in   half. Once   they   even   met   a   Lightning   Dragon,   whom   Brooke   beat   easily   by   diverting   his   bolts   with   water-streams   and   short-circuiting   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Neither   Ronnie   nor   anyone   else   knew   how   many   hours   they   had   battled—days,   rather—snatching   naps   in   lulls   in   combat,   until   Travel   would   feel   them   teleporting   in   her   sleep   and   wake   up   shouting   and   the   whole   thing   begin   again. Sometimes   they   met   witches,   but   when   the   witches   found   none   of   their   magic   would   bite   and   they   were   usually   faced   by   oceans   of   water   and   abysmal   colds,   they   stopped   even   trying.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “It’s   snowing   in   Winsted.”   said   Forest   to   Bell.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You’ve   got   to   be   kidding   me. It’s   still   October!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Everything   was   white.”   said   Forest   with   shining   eyes. “Snow   poured   down   like   rain. There   was   a   raw   feel   in   the   air,   like   December. It   stuck   to   the   leaves. The   trees   bent. I   heard   limbs   breaking   every   other   minute. Gold-green   beech   leaves   and   brown-green   oaks   were   pale   and   limp   under   the   snow. There   was   15   inches   when   it   was   done,   and   power   was   out   as   bad   as   Irene. It’s   winter-cold   up   there.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “That   is   so   freakin’   weird!”   crowed   Bell. “Oh   boy,   I   hope   we   get   back   before   it   melts!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “The   earth   grows   cold   at   the   presence   of   Morgoth.”   said   Ronnie.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   day   is   it?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Ronnie   threw   up   his   hands. “God   knows.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Indeed   He   does,   but   He   is   not   going   to   answer   your   cries.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   six   stopped   dead. The   Witch   of   Winchester   stood   before   them. She   was   short   and   dumpy,   greyish-red   hair   flowing   witchlike around   her,   her   eyes   glinting   strangely   behind   her   glasses. She   wore   a   Colonial   dress,   homespun   and   rough,   and   over   it   a   huge   black   hooded   mantle. In   her   hand   she   held   aloft   a   twisted   cane   of   black   laurel.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Who   are   you?”   said   Lara.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   am   Filley.”   the   Witch   answered. “I   have   no   Christian   name. I   come   from   ancient   legends   in   the   oldest   town   anecdotes. I   am   the   Witch   of   Winchester.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Darkness   fell   upon   the   glowing   cave. The   Children   of   the   Road   wilted   with   the   sheer   weight   of   the   malice   that   radiated   from   that   staff. “You   have   faced   children   up   to   now,   half-trained   teenagers   and   book   clubs   of   little   old   ladies,   unfit   for   true   warfare. But   I,   I   am   old,   and   I   am   stronger   than   any   of   them. The   Church   protects   you,   little   Children;   but   how   strong   is   the   Church?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             She   thrust   forth   the   laurel   staff.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             As   if   smitten   by   a   bomb   the   Children   of   the   Road   toppled   to   the   ground,   bent   by   the   blast   of   the   evil   that   was   in   her. Horror   crashed   over   them. Darkness   was   in   mind   as   well   as   eye.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Ronnie   Wendy   and   Lara   Midwinter   struggled   to   their   hands   and   knees. White   and   red   fire   flickered   in   their   eyes;   their   hands,   reaching   to   their   necks,   clutched   like   shields   of   power   the   scapulars   they   wore   underneath:   and   in   those   sacramentals   was   vested   the   power   of   the   Catholic   Church,   and   the   prayers   of   the   Church   poured   into   them. Slowly   they   staggered   upright,   stooping   against   the   wind   of   horror,   right   hands   outthrust,   blue   light   burning   where   their   palms   met   the   black   wind. The   Witch   of   Winchester   snarled   with   sheer   fury. Slowly   the   two   Catholic   Children   of   the   Road   forced   their   way   forward,   step   after   bitter   step,   divine   anger   in   their   hearts. As   they   grew   closer   the   Witch   began   to   back   up. Black   power   crackled   and   flared   from   the   staff. There   was   panic   in   her   black   eyes. She   gave   back,   step   after   step,   as   they   pushed   forward,   bent   no   longer,   white   and   red   fire   blazing   in   their   eyes. Then   with   a   black   implosion   the   Witch   of   Winchester   vanished.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   made   their   way   on,   down   the   steep   and   winding   way   of   ancient   might. Doughy   rock   squished   and   swirled   against   the   command   that   kept   at   bay   the   full   weight   of   the   Earth. “Who   made   this?”   Brooke   said   once.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Guardians.”   Ronnie   answered. “I   see   golden   power   flickering   around   us,   like   beams   stretched   across   the   tunnel. This   was   recently   redone. Not   more   than   five   years   ago,   if   I’m   not   wrong.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Who   are…?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   don’t   know.”   said   Ronnie. “They   Guard. They   are   gone   now,   for   there   is   nothing   of   their   charge. But   the   walls   remain.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             As   they   tramped   wearily   down   the   burning   halls,   all   of   them   scarred   with   burns   and   wounds   that   had   been   painted   whole   by   Forest   and   healed   with   raspberry,   they   saw   ahead   of   them   a   figure   dressed   like   a   nurse   in   dirty   white. Her   hair   had   once   been   tied   back,   but   much   of   it   was   escaped,   hanging   wild   and   tangled   about   her   face. She   had   arched   brows,   with   a   sort   of   painful   lift   in   them. Her   eyes   were   sickening   green. Ghost-green.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “The   Witch   in   White!”   roared   Ronnie.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Shouting   out   sacred   names   perverted   to   magic   uses,   the   Witch   in   White   hurled   spells   at   them. Ronnie   ignored   them. His   eyes   met   hers,   and   her   curses   died;   power   strove   against   magic,   and   the   Witch   in   White   toppled,   only   kept   alive   by   the   ghost   that   was   in   her,   who   was   already   dead   and   knew   her   own   damnation.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             As   they   went   on   further,   they   saw   ahead   of   them   a   majestic   figure   barring   the   tunnel. In   that   hall   of   violent   reds   and   ochers   he   shone   a   pale   wan   green,   eerie   and   awful. And   he   had   no   head.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “The   way   is   shut.”   the   ghost   said   in   his   hollow   voice.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Who   holds   the   way?”   Ronnie   demanded   harshly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “The   dead   hold   it. The   damned   keep   it. We   bar   the   Road.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Behind   him   there   emerged   into   visibility   a   pale   host,   a   great   army   of   pale   warriors   that filled   the   caves. A   flame   was   in   their   eyes,   and   the   weapons   in   their   hands   burned   with   a   ghastly   light. Streaming   past   the   King   of   the   Dead   they   fell   upon   the   Children   of   the   Road.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Fight   them,   and   fear   not!”   Ronnie’s   voice   rang. “They   are   no   ghosts. They   are   not   dead!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   warriors   charged,   howling   like   a   thousand   banshee   sirens. Walls   of   stone   appeared   as   Forest   whirled   his   brush. Ice   exploded   attacker   after   attacker. Like   a   water-whirlwind   Brooke   rotated   through   the   throng,   herself   water,   her   arms   hard   blades,   shattering   swords   and   slicing   bodies. Beams   of   white   and   green   and   violet   zapped   about   from   the   weapons   of   the   Stars. Though   their   swords   were   made   in   Hell   and   could   be   broken   by   no   mortal   power,   the   strength   of   the   Church   and   the   power   of   the   Road   was   in   the   Six.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “These   are   the   damned   reincarnate;   they   are   nothing!”   Ronnie   roared   as   his   wrist-tattoos   sent   swirling   loops   of   deadly   purple   among   the   army. The   last   dead   warrior   fell. “It   is   their   King   whom   we   battle!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   King   of   the   Dead,   bereft   of   his   army,   gave   a   hollow   laugh. Swiftly   he   charged,   shooting   forward   like   a   green   wind,   his   ghostly   blade   swinging. The   powers   of   the   Six   passed   through   him   without   effect. Bell   leaped   forward   as   the   sword   descended,   catching   it   upon   her   upraised   hand. The   phantom   blade   splintered. The   ghost   collided   with   her   and   staggered   backward.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   power   is   in   your   skin   that   allows   no    substance   material   or   spiritual   to   pass   it?”   cried   the   King   of   the   Dead.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Bell   caught   him   in   her   arms. The   ghost   could   not   pass   through   her,   nor   escape   her   grip.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Dragon’s   blood.”   she   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Ronnie   advanced   with   his   scapular   lifted. At   the   approach   of   the   sancitified   cloth   the   ghost   shivered   in   pain.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Now   will   I   send   you   to   your   place.” Ronnie   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Please,”   whispered   the   ghost,   “spare   me. Do   not   lay   the   holy   cloth   around   my   neck. If   you   do   my   head   will   never   return   to   me.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “If   you   are   dead,   you   have   chosen. If   you   are   saved,   why   do   you   fight   us? If   you   are   damned,   why   show   you   mercy?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   will   leave   the   field if   I   am   spared. I   will   forsake   Winsted. I   will   not   walk   against   the   North   in   the   last   hour.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   eyes   of   Ronnie   began   to   glow   red. “You   are   of   the   Foes.”   he   said   inexorably. “I   see   in   you   damnation,   and   in   your   heart   lying. In   the   Name   of   the   Lord,   Jesus   the   Christ,   do   I   lay   the   holy   cloth   upon   you,   and   implore   Him   to   send   you   to   your   place   where   you   will   trouble   us   no   more.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   scapular   flamed   red   as   it   settled   upon   the   ghostly   shoulders. With   a   wail   as   deep   as   the   bottom   of   the   earth,   the   King   of   the   Dead   faded   away.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Down   and   still   down   they   hurried. They   were   weary,   incredibly   weary. The   journey   seemed   unending. When   would   they   reach   the   bottom,   and   in   these   burning   caves,   how   would   they   find   that   one   chamber? What   if   this   network   of   tunnels   was   a   decoy,   designed   to   lead   them   far   astray   to   come   too   late,   drawing   them   on   by   minimal   opposition? Travel’s   head,   already   aching   from   her   continuous   teleporting,   throbbed   heavily. She   wanted   to   simply   lie   down,   pillowed   on   the   scorching   stone,   and   never   have   to   rise.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             That’s   it,   little   girl,   that’s   the   way   to   go. ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Lara’s   heart   was   as   leaden   and   numb   as   the   cold   she   commanded. The   suffocating   heat,   kept   to   bearable   temperature   by   their   enchanted   cloaks,   still   oppressed   her   mind. Her   sister’s   face   was   only   a   pale   shadow   in   her   thoughts,   and   even   when   she   tried   it   was   hard   to   put   features   on   it. The   endless   labor   of   the   descent   was   exhausting   her   mind,   no   less   than   her   body. Behind   her   Bell   and   Brooke   plodded,   until   Travel   had   a   line   of   sight   ahead   of   her   and   teleported   them   all   in   mid-step,   and   their   feet   descended   unnoticing   and   they   plodded   on,   ignoring   the   change   of   scene,   their   heads   drooping. Forest   had   a   curious   glazed   look   in   his   eyes,   as   though   his   strange   mind   was   in   some   far   remote   country   and   divorced   from   the   angry   splendour   of   their   surroundings. Ronnie   in   front   walked   bent,   arms   swinging   limply,   a   dull   stupor   in   his   gaze.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Yes,   you   are   right,   this   passage   has   no   end   and   it   continues   for   ever… ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “We   must   sleep.”   Lara   said,   her   hoarse   voice   breaking   the   long   silence. They   paused   to   drink   from   their   ever-full   bottles;   somehow   these   always   remained   pure   and   cold,   and   drinking   them   cleared   their   heads   for   a   little.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “We   slept   only   six   hours   ago.”   Ronnie   croaked.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             On   they   went,   on   and   on. The   angry   light,   the   endless   heat,   dry   and   shrivelling   like   a   desert   day   even   with   the   protection   of   their   cloaks,   the   foul   queer   smell   of   fumes   given   by   no   organic   thing   but   by   the   rot   and   breakdown   of   the   rock   itself,   rendered   only   breathable   by   the   garments   of   Arheled;   weighed   upon   mind   and   heart. To   keep   on   was   a   task   that   was   growing   unbearable.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Lie   down,   little   ones;   sleep   and   rest,   let   yourselves   succumb,   for   there   is   no   end   and   there   is   no   other   existence. ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   shaft   constricted. So   steep   was   it   now   they   often   used   the   hovercar   to   travel,   and   below   lay   only   a   blinding   yellow-whiteness. The   passage   twisted   like   a   worm,   and   the   spells   holding   it   open,   Ronnie   told   them,   were   no   longer   those   of   Guardians,   but of   Dragons. All   around   them   was   blinding   light. Then   suddenly   the   shaft   grew   gentler,   and   emerged   into   a   chamber   of   flame. White   lava   boiled   and   churned   beneath   them. In   the   midst   rose   an   island   of   black   stone,   unmelted,   even   untouched. And   from   the   hole   in   its’   crown   were   pouring   swarms   of   foes.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             There   were   dragons   of   every   shape   and   size. There   were   witches   on   their   brooms,   armed   with   wands. Elemental   powers   and   dragon-magic   and   witchfire   thundered   against   them   like   a   horrid   multihued   gale. Swirling   and   lancing   through   it   like   lightning   were   the   beams   and   blades   of   the   weapons   in   their   wrists,   and   the   blast   of   their   own   powers,   of   cold   and   water,   of   plant-mist   and   paintbrush. They   hewed   their   way   down. Suddenly   Travel   took   them   all   in   a   single   flash   to   the   lip   of   the   hole   in   the   black   island. The   dragons,   caught   off   guard,   milled   in   confusion.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “This   is   the   way.”   said   Ronnie. “This   is   the   antechamber. We   are   almost   there!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             A   current   of   energy   coursed   through   them   at   the   realization. Their   goal   was   in   sight. Travel   teleported   them   here,   there,   everywhere   as   they   shot   down   the   shaft,   throwing   the   dragons   into   disarray. Beneath   was   a   ragged   room   of   black   and   jutting   rock   like   a   fire-gutted   house;   and   at   the   far   end,   a   brilliant   white   glow,   and   against   it,   several   tall   thrones   like   dark   pillars. A   madness   of   fury   upon   them,   they   blasted   down   witch   after   witch   and   dragon   after   dragon,   cut   their   way   down   the   chamber   and   hurried   into   the   hall   of   the   Seven   Thrones.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             And   instantly   they   were   held   suspended.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Well,   sons   of   the   Road,”   said   a   voice   that   they   hated   more   than   anything   on   earth. Cornello   stepped   down   from   the   side   of   the   chamber. “The   ones   I   originally   needed. And   in   the   end   you   come   here   none   the   less,   of   your   own   free   will.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             ''We   come   here   to   destroy   you   and   to   set   free   the   ones   you   have   taken! said   the    ''thought   of   Ronnie.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   are   making   an   excellent   start.”   laughed   Cornello.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Ronnie’s heart   drooped,   though   his   suspended   head   could   not   move. A   bargain,   his   thought   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Indeed?”   the   bald   man   said,   arching   one   eyebrow. “So   you   would   offer   yourselves,   on   the   assumption   I   would   then   let   the   others   go. So   noble   of   you. But   do   you   speak   for   the   others? Or   even   for   yourself? In   any   case,   I   need   you   not. Look   for   yourselves:   I   have   what   I   need!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             With   a   groan   the   seven   pillared   thrones   around   the   column   of   light   at   the   bottom   of   the   world   upon   the   heart   of   the   Earth,   swivelled   round   to   face   them. They   were   close   enough   to   see   and   recognize   the   seven   people   sitting   bound   into   the   thrones,   long   robes   flowing   down   the   rock   like   impossible   bodies;   and   at   the   sight   despair   and   helpless   rage   fell   upon   them.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             A   somewhat   heavy   but   good-looking   young   woman   robed   in   fresh   green,   Travel   knew   as   Cypress. A   slim   fair   girl   with   dark-gold   hair   and   round   cheeks,   robed   in   lovely   lavender:   both   Lara   and   Ronnie   recognized   as   Lilac. There   was   Mary   Rogers,   large-set   and   rather   pretty,   robed   in   pale   yellow;   Ralph,   his   shaved   head   now   showing   a   short   orange   crop,   was   in   deep   red:   Ronnie alone   knew   them. All   of   them   recognized   Nerissa,   the   round-featured   pretty   librarian   in   Wicca:   she   wore   blue. The   woman   on   the   farthest   throne   with   the   misty   fair   features   and   the   deep   green   robes,   Forest   and   Ronnie   knew   as   the   first   Green   Lady,   the   Star   Maricrondo. But   it   was   the   last   throne   that   filled   Ronnie   with   such   anguish   he   could   feel   splintering   pains   in   his   chest,   only   kept   from   breaking   by   the   suspended   condition   he   was   held   in:   for   it   was   Carlee,   his   vanished   love,   and   she   was   all   in   gold   and   blue,   and   she   was   most   beautiful   of   them   all.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “In   the   black   wind   the   stars   shall   die,   and   still   on   gold   here   let   them   lie,   until   the   Dark   Lord   lifts   his   hand   above   dead   sea   and   withered   land. Did   you   think   that   Bombadil   rendered   those   words   meaningless,   or   that   banishment   made   that   prophecy   void? It   is   one   that   even   Christ   supports:   the   moon   shall   be   darkened,   and   the   stars   fall   from   heaven;   and   their   powers   will   be   moved. For   we   are   stronger   than   they. We   are   greater   than   we   were. Damned   uncounted   cross   the   shores   from   swarming   abyss. Two-thirds   of   the   spirits   fell   not;   but   how   many   thirds   of   the   souls   of   men   have   come   into   our   maw? The   Saints   are   beleaguered. The   Saved   are   few. The   Elect   crumble   daily. And   we,   we   grow   mighty,   for   the   Earth   is   ours.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">He   vanished,   appearing   high   up   in   the   roof,   and   his   voice   rang   down   like   the   voice   of   Hell. “When   the   horn   is   sounded   it   will   not   be   Gabriel’s. It   will   be   that   of   Gjaller,   and   he   will   blow   it   for   the   Lord. And   the   dead   shall   rise   up,   and   the   sea   will   give   up   its’   dead,   and   even   from   heaven   the   dead   will   come   down,   summoned   to   their   bodies. And   when   they   do,   they   will   come   before   the   Lord,   and   they   will   look   into   His   face   and   they   will   scream,   for   while   they   lazed   around   on   their   golden   clouds   and   strummed   their   little   harps,   they   thought   they   had   won   and   they   were   safe;   but   they   were   wrong. For   the   Lord   upon   the   Throne   will   have   a   face   of   black.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   suddenly   was   next   to   them,   thrusting   his   huge   smiling   face   almost   into   theirs. “He   will   summon   all   the   dead,   and   all   the   living   will   think   that   they   have   died,   for   there   where   standing   God   should   be   will   be   instead   the   Mighty   One,   the   Lord   of   All   presiding   over   a   Black   Resurrection   under   ruined   skies   upon   the   last   evening. And   then   over   dead   and   live   alike will   close   the   night   of   naught,   and   only   dead   will   reign. ''Man   kenuva   métim’   andúne?” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Light   flamed   in   the   motionless   eyes   of   the   Children.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   are   suspended   in   Time.”   Cornello   informed   them,   laughter   behind   his   voice. “Your   powers   would   take   so   long   to   get   to   me,   it   would   be   weeks. Prayers,   of   course…we   have   learned,   in   the   long   ages   of   our   defeat,   how   to   endure   pain. Your   Church   does   not   bother   us. We   are   stronger   than   Her. We   do   not   fear   the   Great   Hallows   who   have   placed   our   night   under   their   power. We   are   greater   than   they.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Do   you   know   what   day   it   is,   or   have   you   lost   your   reckoning   in   your   wanderings? It   is   Samhain   Night. Before   the   Hallows   interfered,   we   could   come   out   of   the   earth   on   that   night,   all   the   venda   who   we   have   enlightened,   who   grew   tired   of   their   enchanted   caverns. We   can   do   so   again. For   this   is   indeed   our   hour.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   turned   to   the   thrones,   spreading   wide   his   hands. “So   let   us   watch   the   show!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   footsteps   of   Cornello   sounded   slowly   and   solemnly   in   the   ears   of   Ronnie. Doom. Doom. His   eyes   saw   little,   and   what   he   noticed   was   dim   and   barely   registered. Black   sorrow   shook   his   heart   with   shedless   tears. Beside   him   tears   of   fire   rolled   from   the   glittering   eyes   of   Lara. They   had   come   all   this   way,   and   endured   so   long,   and   fought   so   hard,   and   all   for   naught. Doom. Vain,   in   vain   was   all   their   toil,   all   their   battle;   what   did   it   matter   if   you   sided   with   the   Gods,   when   they   were   doomed   to   lose? Why   bother   to   fight   on   at   all? Let   the   Lord   of   Chaos   reign;   for   he   will   in   any   event.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Thus   as   Ronnie   and   Lara   wept   for   lover   and   sister,   the   others   watched,   dismay   and   helplessness   holding   them   thrall. They   watched   Cornello   cross   the   chamber   floor,   the   thrones   swivelling around   until   they   all   faced   the   fountain   of   light   that   beat   up   from   the   Heart   of   the   Earth. Facing   it   the   magician   that   had   once   been   a   man   raised   his   hands. Purple   robes   writ   in   gold   with   signs   of   magic   appeared   on   his   shoulders,   and   a   long   steeple   hat   on   his   head. From   every   side   the   Enemies   gathered   slowly   around,   witches   and   dragons,   including   dragons   they   recognized   as   ones   they’d   killed,   Julian   and   Delilah   covered   with   half-healed   wounds,   a   woman   in   dirty   white,   another   in   dark   with   a   black   hooded   mantle. Slowly   they   began   to   stamp,   and   as   they   stamped   in   unison   a   wild   awful   chant   began   to   rise.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Dearly   beloved,”   the   gigantic   voice   of   the   Father   of   Dragons   rose   above   the   chanting,   “upon   this   our   sacred   night   to   we   prepare   to   celebrate   these   mysteries,   and   welcome   back   to   life   Him   who   died   and   will   rise   again,   the   One   and   the   All,   the   true   Christ   betrayed   for   ages,   the   One   who   Arises   in   Might.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Aii-yai,   yai,   yai-ro   yai.” <span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">   wailed   the   stamping   crowd.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “We   have   harnessed   to   our   power   the   Fountain   of   the   Guardians   upon   the   Fortress   of   Fire   that   once   was;   we   have   harnessed   into   it   every   force   that   guides   the   earth;   we   have   harvested   the   tectonic   energy,   the   geothermal   power,   the   might   of   gravity,   the   strength   of   light. We   have   bound   into   this   column   the   essence   of   the   Elements;   we   have   bent   all   natural   forces   to   our indomitable   will. Take,   O   Lord,   of   this,   we   pray!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Aii-yai,   yai,   yai-ro   yai.”   wailed   the   Enemies. The   light   of   the   column   dimmed   and   it   wavered,   and   the   chamber   fell   into   shadow.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “We   have   opened   the   graves   and   garnered   the   dead;   on   the   Day   of   the   Dead   they   have   come   to   our   call. Receive,   O   Lord,   of   them,   we   pray!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Aii-yai,   yai,   yai-ro   yai.”   chanted   the   crowd. The   eyes   of   Forest   saw   that   their   ranks   were   increased:   fell   spectres   and   ghosts   stalked   past   the   living   to   converge   upon   the   dimming   fountain;   and   like   a   whirlpool   it   sucked   them   in.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Blood   of   Christ   and   Blood   of   God,   Flesh   of   Christ   I   hold   to   you!”   shouted   the   demonic   priest. In   furious   horror   that   jolted   them   from   their   despair   Ronnie   and   Lara,   the   only   Catholics,   saw   him   hold   two   full   Chalices. From   one   leaped   up   a   red   light,   from   the   other   a   white:   he   had   stolen   from   unworthy   priests   the   consecrated   Wine   and   Hosts,   in   which   was   present   Christ   Himself. He   would   not   act,   they   realized. Not   even   to   save   Himself   from   desecration   would   He   defy   His   own   rules. Lara   would   have   sagged   if   she   had   been   able   to   move. Red   tears   fell   from   Ronnie’s   eyes,   floating   timelessly   before   him. The   Sacred   Species   were   thrown   at   the   rotating   column   of   cloud,   and   it   grew   thicker   and   more   solid   as   it   drew   them   in.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             And   the   horrible   crowd   in   their   stamping   and   their   dancing   began   to   chant,   a   wailing   haunting   melody   that   froze   the   hearts   of   all   who   heard   it:

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">“Did   you   hear   their   screaming ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Seven   nights   past ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">did   you   hear   their   mournful   keening ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Unending   till   the   last? ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Know,   then,   the   darkness   has   come ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">See,   then,   what   you   have   become…” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Blood   of   infants,   innocent,   helpless,   aborted   in   millions   from   around   the   world,   from   forty   years   of   ceaseless   killing   this   essence   I   offer   thee!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Up   from   the   ground   a   scarlet   mist,   the   mulched-up   bodies   of   aborted   children   hoarded   by   magic   for   four   decades,   shot   in   a   stream   into   the   clouds.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Living   Heart   of   living   World,   made   by   the   Foe   for   bended   Arda,   that   keeps   its’   forces   balanced   and   burning,   this   I   now   breach   for   your   taking!”   Cornello   howled. A   blade   of   pure   angelic   power   shot   from   his   hands   to   the   glassy   black   floor,   and   down   that   channel   reached   the   cloud,   sucking,   gorging,   power   draining,   all   life   taking   from   the   killed   planet.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">“For   darkness   has   no   limits ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">And   darkness   knows   no   limits ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Abiding,   piercing,   slaying ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">It   drives   the   light   away ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Did   you   hear   their   weeping ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Seven   nights   past? ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">did   you   see   the   darkness   reaping ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">The   deeds   that   it   has   cast?” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Seven   victims   on   seven   thrones,   these   I   offer   for   your   rising!”   the   voice   of   the   Dragon   cascaded. “Take   the   Cypress,   O   Melkor;   take   the   Red   Ralph,   O   Melkor;   take   the   Rogers   for   the   Catholics,   take   Merissa   for   the   witches,   take   Carlee   for   the   Pagans;   take   the   Lilac,   greatest   of   all! Six   of   those   who   still   see   truly,   are   here   for   your   resurrecting! Last   of   all   take   the   Green   Lady,   Maricrondo   the   Living   Star:   her   tremendous   nature-power   be   the   key   that   incarnates   you!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   chanting   rose   to   a   frenzy. The   stamping   rose   into   an   orgy. Faint   shapes   tossed   in   seas   of   madness   in   the   chamber   now   in   darkness. The   black   cloud,   visible   only   by   being   so   dark   it   made   everything   else   grey,   shot   out   seven   arms   into   the   hearts   of   the   seven   victims,   motionless   upon   their   thrones. Lightning   crackled   up   the   arms. Light   glowed   inside   the   smoke,   white   and   red   and   faintest   green. The   victims   sagged   as   their   life   was   sucked   from   them. Their   bodies   slumped   as   their   souls   were   dragged   from   them. Their   bodies   dissolved   as   they   too   were   absorbed. For   a   moment   Ronnie   saw   their   faces,   terribly   brilliant;   and   then   Chaos   sucked   them   in,   and   they   were   consumed   body   and   soul.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">“Darkness   has   a   name ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">And   darkness   has   a   face ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Darkness   shall   remain ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">And   bring   the   land   to   waste ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">For   shadows   are   falling ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">And   darkness   has   come, ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">The   nations   it   is   mauling, ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">And   kings   it   has   erased! ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Did   you   hear   their   mournful   keening, ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Unending   till   the   last?” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Jets   of   red   fire   lanced   out   of   the   darkness. Slowly   the   rotating   cloud   condensed. Solid   it   grew. Bones   and   thews   of   iron   blackness   built   them   up   inside   the   shadow. Armour   rippled   into   being. A   helm   of   hideous   and   majestic   shape   rose   upon   the   head. The   cloud   was   nearly   gone. The   last   of   it   seeped   into   his   mouth,   and   all   was   still.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   eyes   opened. Bright   as   searing   flame   they   swept   the   crowd;   but   illuminated   nothing. All   fell   on   their   faces,   dragon   and   witch   alike. Cornello   raised   his   hands,   a   composer   who   has   just   executed   a   perfect   work   of   art.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Lord   we   hail   ye,   God   we   name   thee,   Eru   Almighty   soon   to   be! We   adore   thee,   O   Christ,   and   we   slave   thee;   for   thou   wert   dead,   and   art   alive! Aeva,   aeva,   Lord   of   Darkness,   King   of   Chaos,   Morgoth   Returned,   Melkor   mighty!”   chanted   the   Father   of   Dragons,   and   then   he   too   fell   down   and   adored.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Slowly,   stiffly,   as   if   his   joints   were   still   unwieldly,   the   Lord   of   Chaos   raised   his   hand. A   hammer   gleamed   there,   ancient,   evil,   burning   with   fire;   a   blasting   power   lay   in   its’   head:   Grond   the   Hammer   of   Angband.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             At   the   voice   of   the   Lord   of   the   Darkness,   the   Sons   of   the   Road   wanted   to   die. Travel   and   Ronnie   heard   the   voice   that   had   mocked   them   in   the   Lost   Caves. Lara   heard   the   sneering   stranger   of   her   dream,   and   the   one   that   had   spoken   through   the   mouth   of   Angar. Forest   heard   the   voice   of   the   Rider   of   the   Darkness,   who   had   haunted   his   dreams   an   endless   year   ago;   a   hundred   years   ago. To   them   the   voice   was   of   horrible   recognition,   the   kind   a   man   feels   when   he   realizes   he   is   in   the   power   of   his   most   implacable   enemy. But   to   Bell   and   Brooke,   who   had   never   heard   it   before,   it   sounded   with   the   weight   of   bottomless   despair.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Who   there   stands,   unbowed,   unbending? Who   caused   them   to   stand   before   my   resurrecting?” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “My   Lord,”   Cornello   said   into   the   floor,   “they   are   the   Children   of   the   Road,   fell   warriors   who   won   here   in   our   despite,   whom   I   in   my   cruelty   allowed   to   see   their   beloved   ones   consumed   and   their   foe   made   incarnate   in   despite   of   all   their   power. In   Time   I   hung   them   so   they   could   not   fight.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   see   defeat   in   their   eyes. I   see   the   salt   seas   of   bitterest   despair   dripping   down   their   hearts. Free   them,   that   they   may   bow   before   me,   and   become   my   slaves.” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “As   you   desire,   my   Master.”   said   Cornello. He   rose   to   his   knees   and   made   an   eerie   gesture. The   Children   of   the   Road   stumbled   forward.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;">''<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Do   ye   bow?” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Ronnie   Wendy   lifted   his   head. A   dreadful   levity,   grim   as   death,   danced   in   his   eyes.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “No.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Just   like   that   the   Children   of   the   Road   were   gone. Travel   had   acted   the   second   she   was   free. Cold   air   smote   them. Soft   snow,   still   several   inches   deep,   rose   around   their   sneakers. It   was   late   at   night. Before   them   stood   the   house   of   the   Lanes.

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