Rachel Caine: Total Eclipse

The sea-blue eyes slowly blinked. “Your people chose this,” she said, and her voice was vast and bell-like, and the windows behind Imara shattered in a hail of glittering shards that fell away into the canyon. Wind whipped in, and I saw storms forming, black and furious. More of the canyon cliffs opposite fell away as the land rocked and shifted. The wooden pews in the chapel burst into white-hot flame and burned to ashes in seconds. “They were warned.”

Lewis was shaking now, and he fell to his knees in front of her, but his fists were clenched. “No,” he gritted out. “Let them live. Let us live. You owe me this.”

She laughed, and it was the harsh, ripping sound of claws, the whisper of feathers, the roar of lions. I was terrified, and so small, so very small before the power in this room.

The power that Lewis still resisted.

“I owe you nothing ,” the Mother said. “You owe me everything. And I will have it in payment for pain.”

“That’s what you want!” Lewis shouted, and somehow his voice rang louder here, in this place, than hers. “But I know what you need!”

I had no idea how he could be doing this, talking to her—Imara was the only one who could have made that connection, amplified his voice to a level where it could be heard and understood by something as enormous as Mother Earth. Only Imara could have enough humanity left in her to bridge that gap. The other Oracles couldn’t; even the Djinn couldn’t, without being destroyed.

My daughter’s birth, her death, her raising as an Oracle—all of it was a plan. A plan so vast, so complex and I could only now see glimmers of it, and the beauty and tragedy of it choked me with tears. This wasn’t the Mother’s plan.

This was something greater, and more astonishing, and just for a moment, I glimpsed the hand of God.

“Then what do I need?” the Mother hissed, and I heard a multitude of snakes, felt the burn of venom in my arm again.

Lewis didn’t hesitate, and I have no idea how much courage it took, how much fear he had to overcome.

He stepped into her, kissing-close, and said, “You need me.”

For the first time, I felt Lewis unleash the full range of his Earth powers, and my God , it was like nothing I’d ever felt before, from any Warden. It was pure, animal seduction, and it came from a place in him that I’d never known existed. He wasn’t surrendering to her. He was seducing her. I felt the overwhelming heat of it wash over me as a reflection, an echo, and I swayed on my knees and almost went down.

This was what made Lewis unique among Wardens. This was why he’d been born in this age, so that he could stand here at this time, and do something no other human on Earth could do.

Remind the Earth that nature was more than tooth and claw, death and pain.

“Hear me,” Lewis said, his lips hovering just a fraction above hers, his body radiating that passion. “We are part of you. Part of everything. Hear me.”

He was swaying a little, side to side, and she swayed with him. It was a slow, hypnotic dance, and the sand whirling around my daughter’s body slowed its angry rotation, slipping and falling in a red rain to pool around her bare feet.

“I hear you,” she said, and it was Imara’s voice, my voice, the Mother’s voice, the echo of millions. And there was a kind of drugged wonder in it. “ I hear you. ”

“Then feel me,” Lewis said, and kissed her.

The light that exploded from them should have burned us alive, it was so purely white. Even with my eyes shut, my arms blocking the glare, I could see the two of them standing there together, swaying, merging, dancing.

David let out a sharp cry and got to his feet—not a cry of alarm, but one of triumph, of joy, of absolute relief. And all around him formed Djinn, the Djinn I had known, the ones I had never known, the ones who’d been my mortal enemies. Venna came, and Rahel, dozens more, and more, and more until the chapel was full. Their eyes were burning not with white, but with a pure gold.

The light slowly died at the front of the chapel, and Imara and Lewis collapsed to the floor. She lay in a pale heap, hair covering her face, and as I watched the sand slip back over her in a whispering blanket, I knew she was still alive. Still an Oracle.

She opened her eyes, and sat up, staring down at herself—and at Lewis.

He wasn’t moving.

I saw the grief move over her face, and she reached down and put her fingers on his cheek, very gently. She looked up at me, and I knew instantly that Lewis . . . Lewis was gone. The flesh that lay there was empty, the soul taken.

“No,” I whispered, and all the barriers inside me broke. I’d witnessed something that had never been seen by any human before—none who’d ever lived—and it had been shocking and moving and terrifying, but in the end, all I could feel was that I’d lost him. I’d lost Lewis.

Imara straightened his body, folded his arms, and stood over him. She looked out at the Djinn and said, “You’re here to bear witness. Say his name.”

“Lewis,” said a thunderous chorus of Djinn voices. “Lewis. Lewis.”

And a shining being misted into existence, more beautiful than anything I’d ever imagined. Angels would weep to see him now, and it wasn’t for several long heartbeats that I recognized his face, his body. It was Lewis, perfected, the way David had been perfected.

But Djinn Lewis shone with so much power that it couldn’t be contained in him. The aetheric caught fire around him, and it was a white blaze of joy.

Every single Djinn—New Djinn, Old—all of them went to their knees.

I went, too, more because I didn’t want to be the only one standing. David’s face was blank, his eyes very bright, as he said, “He’s the Conduit. All of us, together again. One people, not two.”

Lewis had replaced Jonathan, in ways that David and Ashan could not.

I slowly stood up again, and Lewis’s attention fixed on me. His smile hadn’t changed at all, really.

“Hey,” I said. “So—about humanity—”

“Through me, she understands,” Lewis told me. His voice made me shiver, because it was like him and yet somehow . . . not. The seductive power he’d unleashed was still putting raw edges on him. “The human race will survive. Better get your act together, though. It’s a limited time offer.”

I nodded, not sure what to say to him anymore. David stood up next to me, and slowly, one by one, the Djinn rose.

“Right,” Lewis said. “The Djinn will help clear the damages, heal the sick and injured, rebuild alongside you. We’re partners now. The way we should have been.”

I cleared my throat. “And the Wardens?”

“Going to take a lot of work to bring them back,” Lewis said. His smile grew brighter. “I can’t think of anyone I trust more to make that happen, Jo. You, and your son.”

Son. I put a hand over my stomach as my lips parted.

Lewis waved his hand, and the glass windows of the chapel filled in again. The Djinn had to shuffle around as wooden pews replaced piles of ashes. Creation, at the snap of his fingers.

“Is she still awake?” I asked.

“For now,” he said. “She’ll sleep soon. But I think you’ll find things much easier now.”

The Djinn were disappearing now, heading off to their newly appointed tasks. Outside the window, the sky was a pure, perfect blue, with a few light clouds drifting high. A bald eagle swooped low, so close its wings almost brushed the glass, and I wondered if it was the same one we’d left wrapped in Cassiel’s coat in Las Vegas.

I watched it soar away. When I looked back down, Djinn Lewis was gone, and his silent, empty shell was all that was left.