Witch Fall(120)

The few people who’d been foolish enough to ignore the warnings to seek shelter cried out in fear and ran for cover. Lilette catalogued each scream, determined to make Merlay pay.

The wind picked up. Safe inside the barrier, Lilette wasn’t touched. But the wind scrubbed across the islands. Huts collapsed and blew out, scattering across the sea. Thunder boomed so loudly the world shook with it.

A wave as high as a mountain rose up in the sea. It rolled forward, crashing against the shore. Only the circle was safe. The wave tore through Lilette’s village, taking everything with it. Her only comfort was that she’d moved the villagers deep into the mountain in the center of the island. Hidden in an open air pit, they were vulnerable to the lightning, but safe from the wind and the earth tremors that were sure to come.

The tempest stilled. Head tipped to the side, Merlay watched Lilette. “Are you not even going to try to stop me? Not that you can, but I expected at least some resistance.”

Lilette used her witch sense—the song was close. So close. “Merlay, sometimes a fall is required to change our path. The witches will fall. I can’t stop that—I was never meant to. But I can delay our utter destruction until someone comes along who can rebuild us into something better.”

Merlay’s brows rose. “We are too strong to fall.”

A sad smile graced Lilette’s lips. “Everything falls.” Han had taught her that.

“After I’m through here, I will remove your songs from the very elements. It will be as if you never existed.”

Lilette was ready for this to be over. The darkness was waiting for her. So close. So tantalizingly close. Merlay’s gaze narrowed. “No more games. This ends now.” She sang again. The ground trembled.

In the circle below Lilette, the keepers were shook to the ground, but they held on and continued singing. She could see them down there and knew if she didn’t finish it, they would all die. She closed her eyes. And waited . . . waited. Now.

She opened her mouth. The storm stopped. The tremors stopped. Even Merlay stopped. There was no sound besides Lilette’s voice. Around the edge of the islands, the powder began to glow with purples and blues.

Lilette sang the veil up, up, up. But instead of growing in a column that shot into the sky as the barrier did, this curved into a dome. It was going to completely cut her off. She saw the realization come over Jolin as she gaped up at her. In order to hide the veil, Jolin had created it to be completely enclosed. And when Lilette moved the island, there would be nothing beneath her.

“No,” Jolin mouthed.

For such a brilliant woman, Jolin was sometimes rather obtuse. Lilette had realized her fate before she’d ever suggested the plan. “The witches needs a martyr,” her mother had said.

Lilette lifted her hand in farewell. Jolin cried out, and the veil warbled. Lilette couldn’t make out the words over the sounds of her own voice, but the lament was obvious.

She thought of her parents, her sister, of Han. All of them had died for her. No more. Never again. That was the pattern she had to break. That was the sacrifice she must make.

Not trusting herself to respond, she sealed the veil, making it self-sustaining. Then she sang storms and foreboding around it like a dark shadow—like Han. It would take a witch as powerful as herself to find it, let alone remove it.

Lilette’s voice holding steady, she sang a song to move the islands. In a flash of blinding light, they disappeared below her. She hadn’t taken them far—even she wasn’t strong enough for that. But they were far enough the keepers would never find them.

Water rushed in to fill the void left by the islands, dragging Merlay’s ship down with it. With an explosion, the water met in the middle and shot upward before rolling out in an enormous tidal wave.

Merlay and her ship were gone. Lilette wished she could say the same for the damage the woman had left behind. But that was not her battle. That battle was for another.

Lilette was alone, with nothing below her but leagues of water, shimmering like the surface of a mirror. She could continue singing, keep herself afloat until her voice grew thin and thready. But she refused to linger.

The darkness between the stars was waiting for her.





Epilogue



Lilette fell, shooting through the sky like a falling star. There was a brief, exquisite moment of pain. A flash blinded all her senses. She floated in a space of nothingness.

She became aware of the music first. Soft and haunting, it washed over her. Then everything rushed toward her, filling her with light and power and song and leaving the emptiness behind.

When the last of it throbbed beneath her skin, she opened her eyes to find Han standing before her. She gasped in the silence and reached out, touching smooth skin where his scar had been. She withdrew her hand, for he was beautiful, and she was afraid.