She was a skeleton now. The calcified remains of a human being.
The water continued its assault, her bones beginning to break apart and melt, leaving only a sludgy puddle behind . . . and even that, after a while, was eventually washed away.
The darkness had claimed another witch.
Devandra
They flew into her open arms. She held them as tightly as she dared and never wanted to let them go.
"Mama, Mama, Mama," Ginny said, repeating the word over and over again as her voice was muffled against Dev's chest.
Marji was silent, but Dev could feel her older daughter's speedy heartbeat. She was like a little bird, all fragile and delicate winged.
"Are you okay?" Dev murmured, relief pouring out of her like sweat.
"We're okay, Mama," Ginny said, looking up and smiling at her mother. "Tem played Bananagrams with us and Marji won twice."
Dev looked over at Tem, who stood by the kitchen island, watching them. Lizbeth stood beside him. She looked older, her long hair pinned at the back of her neck, the skin under her eyes dark and swollen.
"The door!" Daniela called from the entranceway. "What the hell happened to the goddamned door?"
Lyse, who'd looked so awkward standing in the middle of the Red Chapel (which still resembled the loft where Lizbeth had grown up), took the opportunity to join Daniela, so she didn't have to engage with Dev and the girls or Lizbeth.
"How do we get back out there?" Dev could hear Daniela saying to Lyse-but then Marji grabbed her attention and Dev tuned everyone else out.
"Mama, we knew you were coming. We waited for you."
She smiled down at her older daughter.
"Thank you for waiting, sweet pea."
She didn't know what she would've done if they'd left without her. The thought of showing up and not finding Marji and Ginny here made Dev's blood run cold.
"But we have to go back home now," Marji said. "Auntie E says."
Dev looked over at Eleanora. The older woman was watching them carefully, Niamh beside her.
"The Flood isn't coming, Devandra," Eleanora said. "It's here. We have to go back, but we have to find a safe place for the girls first."
"And where the hell would that be?" Dev asked, not sure a safe place could exist in these dark times. It felt like wherever they went, the darkness, The Flood . . . whatever you wanted to call the evil that had infected all the worlds . . . was already there.
"I know where," Niamh chimed in. For hours now-all through the arduous journey to the Red Chapel-she'd barely spoken, but now she looked happy to be able to contribute something to the conversation. "The other women. We need to go where there is the highest concentration of blood sisters. We forget that we have magic on our side now. Real magic."
Daniela burst into the room, Lyse on her heels.
"Hessika wouldn't come inside and now there's no goddamned door-"
"Daniela's worried. She thinks Hessika did something rash," Lyse said, interrupting her friend. She directed her words at Eleanora.
"She's not wrong," Eleanora said. "We needed a little time to plan, and Hessika was ready to give us that."
"What?" Lizbeth cried. "What does that mean?"
Eleanora gave Lizbeth a sad smile.
"She sacrificed herself so that the rest of you could do what was necessary."
Tem put an arm around Lizbeth and pulled her close. She didn't notice, her eyes stricken.
"Then she's not coming back?" Lizbeth asked-her voice monotone.
"No, pet," Tem said, murmuring in Lizbeth's ear. "She's not coming back."
"What about Arrabelle and Evan?" Daniela asked, her hands balled into fists at her sides.
"Arrabelle is gone," Eleanora said.
"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Lyse said, glaring at Eleanora. "We would never have let Evan go after her . . ."
She trailed off, the magnitude of Arrabelle's loss apparent from the expression on her face. Dev felt it, too, and she clutched the girls tighter.
"You can't make someone do what you want them to, Lyse," Eleanora said. "You, of all people, know this."
"Weir's dead, too," Lizbeth said abruptly, looking pointedly at Lyse. "It's my fault . . . and Daniela almost dying . . . I got mad at her and touched her even when I knew I could kill her . . ."
She couldn't finish the thought, her body shaking as she broke down, wrapping her arms around herself.
"No!" Lyse cried, rushing to Lizbeth's side. "It was my fault. Never yours . . . always mine. All of it. I was in charge and I let you down."