The End of Magic (The Witches of Echo Park #3)(68)
"And we've come to be your guides."
The Book of The Flood
. . . and so comes the end of days. We fear this change and the upending of human society as we know it. It seems as though we have sacrificed greatly to reach this paradigm of existence, but trust in The Flood, sisters and brothers, for only The Flood will bring about the creator's true plan. Only with suffering and sacrifice will we attain true perfection. Only with the blossoming and harnessing of magic and the destruction of those who stand in our way will we reach our goal.
Though we toil humbly at the feet of the one, the true, the perfection . . . it is only through our own debasement that we will find the path. Only then, when our feet tread the way, will The Flood follow behind in our wake and a new world order will be born.
-Horatio 7:4
The Book of The Flood
Arrabelle
Arrabelle had never been happier to see a dead person in her life. When she turned her head and caught sight of Eleanora Eames, the former head of the Echo Park coven and Lyse's grandmother, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of joy so great that she wanted to cry. Arrabelle, who did not like to show emotion, welcomed the tightness in her throat. It was all a jumble inside her: tears, joy, relief. The sense of being alone in a dark wood with no source of light had lifted and she felt better. For the first time in a long time, Arrabelle knew they would make a plan. That Eleanora would take charge and make sure things ended well.
It was a naïve thought. That Eleanora could fix everything. But Arrabelle decided not to question it. Maybe the little voice in her head was right: Eleanora couldn't solve all their problems. But just having her there to help guide them made Arrabelle relax.
She recognized the giantess standing beside Eleanora from the picture on Eleanora's bookshelf. This was Hessika, the Echo Park coven's Dream Keeper before Lizbeth. Her appearance was jarring at first-you just wanted to stand there and stare at her. She was tall and imposing but with a true sweetness and joy to her face. Obviously, she'd chosen to stay behind after her death and become a Dream Walker, so she was on their side. And if Eleanora trusted her . . . then Arrabelle trusted her, too.
"Thank the Goddess," Arrabelle said, unable to stop herself from grinning with pleasure. "You're a sight for sore eyes."
Here in the dreamlands, Eleanora and Hessika looked as if they were made of flesh and blood-they couldn't manifest so strongly back in the real world-but Arrabelle still didn't want to try to touch either of them in case it wrecked the illusion.
"Hessika and I have been preparing for your arrival," Eleanora said, smiling back at Arrabelle. "But we should get moving. The girls are at the Red Chapel and as much as they are safe there with Lizbeth for now . . . soon she will not be there to protect them."
Eleanora turned to Dev.
"They've been waiting for you."
"And I've been waiting for them," Dev said, eyes shining with tears.
"So you're our maker, ma belle?" Hessika asked, her gaze fixed on Niamh. "You can build here, make us something to travel with?"
Niamh nodded, and until the giantess turned her attention to the young woman, Arrabelle hadn't realized how unsettled Niamh was. She was deathly pale, her thin body shaking with nerves. Arrabelle had read Niamh's journal, knew that back in their reality she and Evan had lost their whole coven at the Red Chapel. She could only imagine how terrifying it would be to go back there-even if it was only the dreamlands' version of the actual place.
"Why did you call her a maker?" Lyse asked.
Hessika gave Lyse a lazy smile.
"'Cause it's their particular energy that vibrates here in the dreamlands, dear heart," Hessika replied. "Their very existence powers this place. Shall we say-just as an analogy-that they are the dreamers who dream the dreamlands into existence? Does that make sense? It's how come they can manipulate matter here. Dream Keepers have a bit of a talent for weaving in the dreamlands, but it's impermanent. Only builders can make things that stand the test of time."
"What do you want me to make?" Niamh asked, her face still pale.
Hessika waved a long, thin arm in the air.
"I've always been partial to pontoon boats . . . but that's just because my papaw had himself a little catamaran I used to love as a child."
Arrabelle had a feeling that even on a "little catamaran" Hessika would still look regal.
"The sooner we get there the better," Dev said, looking expectantly at Niamh.