Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-seven
Ena
Disbelief hit Ena like a ton of bricks. Was this really happening? This felt like a dream.
Heran’s body lay before her—unmoving on the ground. She looked so…still. Not the stern yet kind and full of life woman Ena had known her whole life. Here now was just a body—getting colder by the second in the frigid winter air.
Ena was shocked by how small she seemed. How frail she looked like this. This vessel looked like her, and yet it wasn’t her, and it was so confusing.
Ena looked up at Greya. Tears were in her sister’s eyes as she collapsed on top of Heran, sobbing. Her cries echoed around the Sacred Grove, and all Ena could think was: what just happened? What is happening? I don’t understand.
One second, Ena had been starting the spell, and then Ty was gone and apparently Heran had come and used her Gift, and then her heart had stopped and there hadn’t been time to get the hawthorn and then she did the compressions like Heran taught her and…
Please, my child.
Heran’s final words to her echoed through her head, and now Greya was crying and Ena felt frozen in place. She forgot how to move and couldn’t remember how to go on. Should she go on? What should she do? Shouldn’t she be crying like Greya? Shouldn’t she be doing something?
She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Turning to look, her eyes met Ty’s. They were light green with a dark ring around them—beautiful as always—and they anchored her to reality.
“Ena, we need to finish the spell. We need to finish it now before anyone else comes. I’m so sorry, Ena,” he was saying, his voice filled with anguish, but she had trouble understanding his words.
“Ena—do you hear me?” he asked gently.
She could hear him, so she tried to speak.
“Yes,” she said, finally mustering a word, but her voice sounded monotone and unfeeling. Was that her voice? Why was it coming out so strangely?
“Now is our chance. Do you think you can finish the spell?” he asked softly, but there was an urgency in his voice. “I don’t know who else might be coming. I don’t know if anyone else heard us. It’s now or we need to leave, for your safety,” Ty said.
Ena looked around the Sacred Grove. Cris, Mel, and Turner had come closer, their faces screwed up in pity. They stood, holding the ceremonial objects in their hands.
Ena’s brain felt sluggish, like she was swimming through thick syrup. But slowly, she began to comprehend.
Finish the spell, yes. They had to finish the spell.
“Yes, yeah, I can. I need to finish the spell,” she said, standing up and wiping wetness from her eyes.
Had she been crying? She didn’t remember crying.
“But someone—” She looked down at her sister, who was distraught before her.
“Someone needs to help Greya,” she said, her voice cracking as she spoke.
“I’ll sit with her,” Turner said, coming immediately to Greya’s side.
Greya looked up at her then, her eyes red-rimmed.
“Greya,” Ena began. “I’m going to finish the spell, okay? I’m going to finish this, and then we can…and then we can figure out what’s next, okay?”
At first, it seemed as if her sister didn’t hear her, lost in her grief as she was, probably feeling just as overwhelmed as Ena, but then she gave a single jerky nod, like even that much movement was too much for her.
She closed her eyes and leaned against Turner, who put his arm around her, holding her up and stroking her arm soothingly.
They needed to get Perse, Ena thought vaguely. Perse would help. But he was passed out from the sleeping potion, she remembered, so that would have to wait. Turner was all they had.
Ena turned away from her sister to find Ty next to her.
“Ena, look at me,” he said, reaching out with his strong, warm hands and wiping away a tear with his thumb. “You are strong, and you can do this. Focus on me, on the spell, and nothing else right now. Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” Ena said, feeling grounded by his words. He was right. If they were going to be successful, if they were going to end this, she needed to focus on the spell and let all other concerns dissipate. “Yes, I hear you, Ty.”
She moved to the center of the Sacred Grove once more, her body and mind feeling numb.
Cris looked at her with a shocked and concerned expression, but Mel just looked sympathetic. Had they seen this coming? The thought struck Ena like a knife to the heart, and she didn’t know if she should feel anger or pity if that were the case.
“Ena,” Cris began. “I—”
“I’m fine,” Ena said, centering herself, and letting it all go. Every single thing. “Let’s just do this.”
She reached down into her Knowing once more, losing herself to the familiar feeling of the woods around her, and she let it sweep her away.
The branches swaying the breeze, the constant, steady rush of the River Wry, the densely packed earth beneath her feet, the fire that crackled and smoked nearby.
There was balance to it all—purpose—but there was chaos, too, and it felt good to lose herself to it right now.
The water beat into the rocks, crushing endlessly, violently.
The wind swirled and twirled in patterns unforeseen, each gust causing chaotic movements in the branches, making the weak ones snap.
In the clouds above, Ena Knew there was energy building, nearly bursting as the water condensed, getting heavier and heavier as they approached the inevitable deluge.
She felt the disequilibrium of the beetles in the nearby ash tree, eating and gnawing and devouring as they multiplied uncontrollably, disrupting the population of trees that only wanted to live.
There was chaos all around her, and it was this force, this part of her Knowing, that she reached for.
Nodding at Ty to once more enter their sacred circle, she watched as his beautiful, strong features came into focus as he knelt before her.
He was chaos incarnate. The harsh lines of his face were devastating to her, causing her heart to beat erratically. The dips and whorls of his onata along the sides of his head and neck were dark and untamed in the glow of the firelight.
She could feel his barely contained rage vibrating inside him, ready to spill out, and she drew on that too.
She took the athame from Cris, who held both it and the chalice, and examined it with intention. She wanted to Know it.
The knife’s silver blade was waved and deathly sharp, and the handle felt cold and unforgiving in her hand. The metal was like stone—it had no intention but to maintain its state, but it was ancient and malleable, having changed forms many times over.
Next, she took the golden chalice from Cris too.
It was one she recognized—the same one she’d used during her Summoning.
The symbol of Gaia shone on the front, the gold metal it was etched into gleaming in the firelight, and Ena was filled with a fresh clarity—she Knew in her bones that this was Gaia’s will.
She offered the blade to Ty handle first, and he took it. He held it above his wrist, hesitating for just a second before slicing deeply into his skin.
Ena held out the golden chalice, positioning it below his wound, and watched with fascination as his blood welled up and dripped willingly into it.
She couldn’t help but contrast the vision of it with what she’d seen in her vision from Gaia—when the daemon woman’s blood was forcibly taken as she cried out in pain.
Because here was Ty, sacrificing all that he had to give for his people, for their future, and she felt her heart swell with pride and awe of him.
After several minutes, she removed the chalice, now half-full with his crimson offering. Turning to her right, she nodded to Mel, and the witch opened the wooden box containing the amulet, revealing it to the night air.
The dark purple of the uncut amethyst looked almost black in the moonless night, but the lighter white-purple at the edges seemed to glow, reflecting more light than was available.
She gently traced her finger over each of the four symbols etched into the silver setting in turn—the ones representing Gaia, Iblis, the three Covens, and the binding rune.
Ena felt the way she always did looking at it—filled with awe and inexplicably drawn to its power.
Usually, she held back, but this time, she let that power pull her in.
Reaching out, she picked up the amulet, holding it delicately by its braided silver chain.
She lowered it intentionally into the chalice filled with Ty’s blood, submerging it as deeply as she could.
Something about the way Ty’s blood looked, deep red in the chalice, contrasting with the silver and purple of the amulet, the way the thick substance dripped and moved as she lifted the amulet back up, enthralled Ena, and she found she couldn’t look away.
Handing the chalice back off to Cris, she slipped the amulet over her neck.
It hung heavy atop her chest as Ty’s blood dripped down her skin, and instantly, she felt its power vibrate through her, filling her with…
more. All at once, she Knew its intentions, as if it were its own entity, rather than just a sum of its parts.
It was blessed and powerful, and wanted to flow through her, making her the vessel through which it would enhance her spell.
Gaia’s magic, Iblis’s magic, the three Covens’ magic—it wanted to give her all of it. And she would let it.
Reaching out, she joined hands with Cris and Mel. She couldn’t help it—her Knowing felt them, too—felt their unique combinations of wariness and righteousness, excitement and dread.
She nodded to them, indicating that it was time. They’d rehearsed the words, and together, they did the unimaginable—they summoned Iblis.
{Diabolus vocare} they chanted as one.