Chapter 19 #2
Her eyes clear. The blue fire fades. For just a moment, she looks human again. Mortal again. No longer the monster she chose to become.
She sees what she is. What she's done. The murders. The manipulation. The darkness she embraced willingly.
For just a heartbeat, something else flickers across her face.
Not the scheming woman who manipulated Diego.
Not the sea-walker who raised the dead. Someone younger.
A child running along Spanish beaches. Laughing.
Playing in tide pools. Before ambition and pride and revenge consumed everything innocent in her.
The ocean magic shows me who she was before she chose to become a monster. Not to excuse what she did. Just to show what was lost when she made that choice.
Her lips move. Maybe an apology. Maybe just a final breath. I'll never know.
She scatters into the current. Flesh becoming water. Bones becoming sand. The necromancy that kept her alive after drowning finally releasing its hold. Particles drifting. Spreading. Returning to the ocean that claimed her years ago.
The binding circles shatter. Magic backlash sends shockwaves through the water. Every soul she bound is freed in an instant. I feel them rising. Dozens of luminous shapes ascending toward the surface. Toward light. Toward rest.
Including Elspeth.
My sister's spirit floats past me. No longer trapped. No longer corrupted. Her eight-year-old face is peaceful. Smiling.
She mouths two words: Thank you.
Her spirit rises with the others, released at last from torment that lasted far too long.
My lungs scream. The fight took too long. I've been underwater past human limits. Past what even a sea witch can endure. Black spots dance across my vision. My limbs feel heavy. Weighted.
Swimming up. Kicking toward the surface. But my body won't respond. The magic channeled has left me hollow. Empty. Drained beyond exhaustion.
I sink.
Down toward the ocean floor where Catalina's binding circles used to be. Where the darkness waits to claim another victim.
Arms grab me.
Pull me up. Strong but gentle. Urgent but careful.
Not Rafe. Not any of the brotherhood. Something else. Someone else.
A figure made of water and light. Eight years old. Glowing with freedom and joy.
Elspeth.
"Not yet, big sister." Her voice sounds like waves on shore. Like laughter. Like childhood memories I thought were lost. "You have too much life left to live."
She carries me up. Pushes me toward the surface. Toward life. Her spirit form is stronger than it should be. Powered by freedom and love and gratitude. By the chance to save me the way I saved her.
We rise through the darkness. Through the cold. Through the pressure that crushes and the corruption that's already starting to fade now that Catalina is gone.
The surface appears above us. Silver moonlight filtering through black water. So close. So far.
Elspeth pushes harder. Swims with determination that makes my chest ache.
We break through together.
Air hits my face. Sweet. Cold. Precious. Gasping. Choking. Coughing up water that tastes of death and salt. My lungs expand. Contract. Pull in oxygen that feels like fire after so long without.
Alive. Against all odds. Against all logic. Alive.
Elspeth holds me at the surface. Keeps my head above water while I remember how to breathe. How to exist. How to be.
"You did it." Her voice is fading. Growing distant. The temporary strength that let her manifest is draining away. "You freed us all. You saved everyone."
"Elspeth." The name comes out broken. Desperate. "Don't go. Please. I just got you back."
"I was never really gone." She smiles. The expression is so familiar it makes tears stream down my face. "I've been here the whole time. Watching. Waiting. Hoping. You were never alone, Moira. Never."
Her form begins to fade. Water and light separating. Spirit returning to whatever comes after death.
"I love you." The words tear from my throat. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you then."
"You saved me now." She's almost transparent. Almost gone. "That's what matters. Live, big sister. Live for both of us. Be happy. Be free. Love that panther of yours. He's good for you."
She dissipates into mist. Into memory. Into the ocean that will always carry a piece of her.
The ache in my chest threatens to pull me under. Want to sink back down. Want to follow her into whatever peace she's found. Want to stop fighting and rest.
But she told me to live, and Rafe needs me.
Turning toward shore, the distance seems impossible. My body is spent. My magic is gone. Nothing left. But I swim anyway. One stroke. Another. Slow. Agonizing. Each movement costs more than I have to give.
The shore grows closer. Figures on the rocks come into focus. Declan's kneeling next to Rafe. Grayson hauling himself from the water. The others are gathering. The fighting is over. Victory has been claimed.
And Rafe. Lying on the stones. Still. Too still.
No. Not still. Breathing. Barely. Declan’s hands pressed to the wound, trying to slow the corruption. But it's not enough. The death magic is too deep. Too strong.
I swim harder. Ignoring the pain. Ignoring the exhaustion. Ignoring everything except getting to him.
My feet touch sand. Rock follows. I drag myself from the water on hands and knees. Crawling. Barely human. But moving.
Declan sees me. Howls. The sound carries across the shore. Alert. Relief. Victory. Others turn. Rush toward me. Hands reaching to help. Voices calling my name.
But I only see Rafe. His golden eyes find mine across the distance. Exhausted. Pained. But alive. Still alive.
"Moira." My name on his lips is prayer and relief together.
Crawling the last few feet. Collapsing beside him. My hand finds his. Our fingers interlock.
"It's over." The words barely make it past my lips. "She's gone. They're all free. It's over."
"You crazy, impossible, extraordinary woman." He pulls my hand to his chest. Over his heart. "You dove into the deep alone. You could have died."
"So could you." Leaning my forehead against his. "We're even."
His laugh turns into a cough. Blood flecks his lips. The corruption hasn't stopped. Declan's efforts are slowing it. But not stopping it.
"Moira." Declan's voice is urgent. Strained. "I can't fix this. The death magic is too deep. I don't have the power to purge it."
But I do.
Just enough left. One final spell. One last push.
I place my hand over Rafe's wounded shoulder. Where Catalina's spear punched through. Where the corruption entered his body. The wound is black. Festering. Death magic spreading through his veins like poison.
I call on the ocean one final time.
Clean water flows from my palm into his wound. Not much. Not the waves and fury from before. Just a trickle. Just enough.
Life magic. Healing magic. The opposite of what Catalina used. The cure for corruption.
The black veins start to recede. Slowly. Fighting every inch. But retreating.
Rafe gasps. His back arches. Pain and relief and healing all at once.
I pour everything left into him. Every drop of magic. Every ounce of strength. Everything.
The corruption fades. The wound begins to close. His breathing eases.
Darkness closes over my vision.
My mouth opens. To tell him I'm okay. That we won. That everyone's safe.
But the darkness takes me first.