Spellcaster

Now Nadia was rolling over onto her back. She looked up at him groggily. “Mateo?”

He fell to his knees and gathered her into his arms. Nothing he’d ever known felt as good as holding her close and knowing she was still alive, still here. The curse might still hold him, but he’d know for the rest of his life that the futures they showed him, no matter how true they were, could be defeated if he only held strong. “You’re okay. Nadia, you’re okay.”

“Everybody—”

“Everybody’s fine, I think. You did it.”

Nadia gave him a crooked little smile. “We did it.”

“Uh-uh. That was all you.”

Then he kissed her, with all the desperation and fear he’d felt when he thought she was gone, and all the love, too. Nadia made this soft little sound in her throat, and then kissed him back so hungrily that he forgot everything else in the world.

“You’re sure you’re all right now?” the old lady said. “Hate to leave you by yourself.”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Elizabeth waved the woman off and continued on her way home.

Her body was blackened with grime, and her hair smelled of cinders. But she couldn’t stop smiling.

As she reached the porch of her house, the door opened and Asa came out to meet her. “Well, well,” he said, in Jeremy Prasad’s voice. “I can’t help but notice that you’re very much still alive. Failure?”

“Not at all. Not if it worked.”

Asa nodded once. “It worked.”

This went beyond Elizabeth’s wildest dreams. She had left the service of the One Beneath, been willing to die for him, because the devastation would be enough to crack the Chamber. And she had ripped out all the magic from Captive’s Sound, just long enough to accomplish this one most important task. Nadia had replaced it, though, which meant—

Elizabeth lived. No longer immortal, no longer aging backward, but young, healthy, with her strength and her magic still at the ready. She had not had to die to liberate her lord and master; instead she could swear herself to his service again and help the entire rest of the way.

The disaster she’d created, the one that would have consumed Captive’s Sound, had only taken place for one split second. It had destroyed only the first and most important thing she had wanted it to destroy: the bars of the prisoner’s cell.

“What does it look like?” she asked Asa. “Our glorious work.”

“Like an enormous crevasse ripped through the chemistry lab. Like a huge mess, basically.” He crossed his arms and looked at her sourly. “Were you expecting something grander?”

“Its grandeur comes from its purpose.”

First the bars are removed. Then the bridge is built. Then the One Beneath can finally enter the mortal world and reign supreme.

Elizabeth had been willing to die to accomplish only the first of these tasks. Instead, it was done, and thanks to Nadia Caldani’s interference, Elizabeth remained alive, well—and ready to take on the next two tasks herself, as soon as possible.

Nadia deserved all her thanks, really. She would have to think of something special.

“The One Beneath is coming,” Elizabeth whispered, before she spread her arms wide to the night sky and laughed from pure joy.

Epilogue

“SO WHAT’S THIS?” VERLAINE LAY IN HER BED, HER BIG, shaggy cat curled at her feet, as Nadia snuggled next to her and Mateo set the flower-bedecked tray in front of the newly returned patient.

“This,” Mateo said, “is the very best Day of the Dead brunch the kitchen of La Catrina could create. Not that the Day of the Dead and brunch really go together so much. But hey, it’s a celebration.”

“That it is.” Nadia still felt utterly exhausted; she hadn’t known it was possible to be so tired. Tiny nicks, cuts, and spider bites still stung her legs. Her throat remained raw and tender from the smoke last night. But what did any of that matter? Captive’s Sound, and everyone in it, remained in one piece. Elizabeth’s evil plan, whatever it had been, seemed to be defeated. Verlaine was back home, still kitten-weak but obviously on the mend. And she and Mateo—

Well, there were plenty of reasons to celebrate.

Verlaine was enjoying being the center of attention for once. “Let’s see. We have a Tex-Mex omelet, some pancakes that look like—Mickey Mouse?”

“Those were me,” Nadia hastened to add.

“—and this.” Verlaine held up a small brilliantly painted skull, not unlike the cheery skeletons that played guitar and danced on the walls of La Catrina. “What is this, a souvenir?”

Mateo said, “Lick it.”

After a moment, Verlaine gave Mateo a look. “You’re lucky I trust you.” Then she held it to her mouth, gave it an experimental taste, and brightened. “Oh, it’s sugar!”

“You guys don’t know much about the Day of the Dead, do you?” Mateo said. He took his place on the bed with them, on the other side of Verlaine. That meant that he and Nadia weren’t next to each other—and right now even a few minutes away from Mateo felt like too long—but Nadia knew as well as he did that what mattered most was making Verlaine feel safe and loved. Though that strange emotional distance remained, suggesting that whatever Elizabeth had done to Verlaine remained as powerful as ever, Nadia remembered how she should feel about Verlaine, and she was going to hold true to it. Mateo continued, “The Day of the Dead is when you’re supposed to go to the cemetery and visit your dead relatives.”