Kim Harrison - The Witch with No Name

The dewar elves were spelling, and as their power rose, given direction by Landon’s will, a growing sensation of division blossomed with it, like ink on a blank page. Vivian? I thought, then quashed it lest Landon know my soul was here, piggybacked on his thoughts. But it was Vivian, and Professor Anders, and a handful of other bright silver thoughts striding through the ponderous beat of the rising curse. Their song was a half step out of sync as they tried to break the curse and prevent the lines from ending, but their voices were small and easily lost.

Morgan! Landon’s thought iced through me as he found me hiding. I gasped as a wave of hatred pinned my soul down. Now you die!

I felt my body clench as Landon spun his intent through the dewar to collect his borrowed power to his purpose. The chant for the curse to break the lines continued without him as Landon turned his attention to destroying me. Vertigo spun me as he lit a flame of destruction in the middle of my brain. My throat went raw as I screamed as Landon’s curse raced through me, burning.

Almost lost under my agony, a twang echoed through me. It was the first ley line, falling under the dewar’s curse.

The dewar drums thundered, and a cheer rose, drowning out the pain Landon had pinned me with. He turned his thoughts from me, and a comforting black presence scooped me up, rolling me in the scent of burnt amber until the pain retreated and I could think again.

Rachel? It was familiar, the cooling burnt amber holding a hint of a British lord’s accent. I could feel my body shake on the floor of the Cincinnati hotel, but the pretend world in my thoughts was more real and I slowly focused on those minds around mine. A smattering of souls clustered near, stinking of frustration and broken trust. It was the demon collective. Al had found me.

Al? I thought, and his relief swept me, tempered by sour acceptance. My body was being cradled by Trent. I could smell the broken scent of spoiled wine. He held me as Al held my mind, but it was my mind that was in greater danger.

Thank God you came, I thought at Al, knowing all the demons could hear me. We have to stop this. Landon is breaking the lines!

Why do you think we’re here? Al thought dryly at me. You shamed them into it. We’re likely going to be trapped in the ever-after again, but if the lines end, everything goes with it. And then he thought so loudly that for a moment it drowned out the heart-hammering drums, To me, all free souls! To me!

Somewhere, pixy dust sifted down upon my bleeding leg. Somewhere I heard Ivy crying for Nina. Somewhere Trent rocked me, begging me not to leave him.

But I couldn’t abandon the dewar, and I felt my mind expand as free souls came—demon, elf, witch—so sure and swift that the dewar’s confidence faltered.

Trent! I called when I felt his thoughts wrap around mine as his arms were in reality. No! He’s here to help! I shouted when the demons bristled. Leave off! And I gasped, both our bodies jerking when Al yanked Trent’s soul next to mine.

Your thoughts smell funny, but they’re strong, Al said, and then we all started, faltering as another line snapped.

I felt myself jerk again as my thoughts expanded as if in a hiccup. Trent’s presence beside mine grew bright as the demon minds dimmed. Alone, Trent and I seemed to stand with the elves and witches who’d cleaved to us. Confused, I listened to the dewar drums beat against us, furiously renewed by the snapping of a second ley line.

Al! Trent, help me find Al! I thought as the howling of surface demons being pulled back to the ever-after became strong, the scraping of their claws like nails on a blackboard, shivering through my awareness like ice. The vampire souls were being forced back to the ever-after—and I think the demons were going with them.

Help me! I thought, terrified. As the lines went, so would they, reducing them sliver by sliver. Al! I shouted, reaching for his presence, but it slipped like silver past me.

I can’t help them, Trent thought, frustrated as he hid me from the dewar drums. They’re bound to the ever-after.

I wouldn’t allow it, but the theoretical world made another hiccup as a fourth line snapped. I could feel the undead souls sliding past my awareness, howling as they spiraled back into the ever-after. Determination alone held the demons in reality, and that wasn’t enough, for when the last line went, so would they. Landon would have it all.

I gasped as a fifth line fell, and the demon collective began to fall apart in panic. Don’t let go of me, I thought to Trent. I’m getting them out.

What? Trent thought, and I focused on his awareness until his thoughts became clear.

I’m going in after them. Don’t let go!

There was only one way I could find and get a grip on the demons. I didn’t have time to think about how smart this might or might not be, and I dove deep into my mind to find that tiny ball of black hate that Landon had cursed me with: the original binding curse. Take me, I whispered, opening myself to it and willing it to bind with my soul.

I gasped, hearing Al’s agonized cry of heartache as the curse gleefully dug its claws into me, molding to me, becoming part of me. And if it was a part of me, then I was a part of it. With a snap that shook me to my core, the demons’ thoughts became clear, huddled together in misery.

Rachel, why? Al asked, his presence clearer than the rest. You were to be the beginning of us anew, with all the best parts and none of the bad.

Another line snapped with the sharpness of a tension wire giving way. Somewhere I could feel Trent’s arms around me, the warmth of his tears on my face. His mind, twining about mine, was fainter. He was losing me. Grab someone, I thought at Al. Tell them to grab someone else. Everyone goes. Hurry! The lines are going faster.

Another line snapped, and the demon collective cried out as if an elevator had dropped six feet. Panic sifted up through me, pushed by their own thoughts of failure.

Let us go, Al thought, and I focused my awareness on him. If I hadn’t taken the binding curse, I never would have found him. But in the doing, I’d lost Trent.

You want me to survive? I asked Al. Then you have to survive with me! I’m not doing this by myself. Hold on!

There was only the thinnest thread of hope weaving through them, laced with madness and strengthened with hate. I fed on that, bolstering it as I focused on the binding curse, still hot-iron bright in me. I could feel them all behind me as I ran the lines of the spell, seeing the shades of color and sound, looking for the telltale sparkle of the Goddess magic that the elves had needed to create it. Of course the demons couldn’t break it—it was Goddess made. But I could.

Rachel, no! Al protested as he saw my intent. It will kill you!

You’re going to live forever, you son of a bastard! I exclaimed as I sensed him try to wiggle free of me. My thoughts clenched on his awareness, I held him as I dove to the bottom of the elven curse and found the Goddess, chortling with delight at the mischief she was making. Mystics swirled around her, visible in my mind’s eye like purple eyes lidded with feathers.

A mystic saw my thoughts, focusing on me with rapt attention, unable to remember but knowing I meant something. Then another. Oblivious, the Goddess strummed a ley line, laughing in delight as it curled up and vanished, and my temper snapped.

Hey! I exclaimed, and the Goddess’s emotion imploded on itself, boiling down to a thought of recognition and hatred.