Steadfast

“What?”

If Elizabeth had even noticed Mateo’s approach, she didn’t seem to care. “You can keep me from killing them.”

Nadia hesitated. Whipping winds thrashed her hair; a few damp strands stuck to her cheek. The cold made her shake, and by now the sky seemed far too low. This was where Elizabeth had wished to lead her. This was the trap. Yet she had to ask, “How?”

“You give me enough power to finish the bridge without killing them,” Elizabeth said. “It’s simple, really.”

Her meaning sank in, biting at her bones as sharply as the chill. There was only one way Nadia could make Elizabeth more powerful now—by giving her an apprentice.

Mateo’s skiff hit the shore of the small lighthouse island, and he ran as fast as he could up the steep bank. As he approached, Elizabeth never turned toward him—but then she held out her hand, and suddenly he couldn’t move. It was as though he’d been shackled in place; it was as if he could feel the iron cutting through his flesh around his wrists, his waist, his feet, everywhere.

Once again he tried to call on whatever power it was that he’d discovered deep within, the power that had broken the spell on Gage . . . but Mateo couldn’t find it. Whatever Elizabeth was doing was far too strong.

Yet his own fate bothered him less than the way Nadia was looking at Elizabeth. She looked worse than afraid.

She looked defeated.

Nadia tried to think of another way to stop Elizabeth, but she couldn’t.

The bridge for the One Beneath would be completed no matter what. From now on, only one thin seal would keep Him from reclaiming the mortal realm—and Elizabeth would be doing her best to break that seal and bring Him here.

Nadia could keep her freedom, but only by sacrificing the lives of innocent people.

Only then did she think, If I join Elizabeth, I know what she’s doing. I learn her magic. I learn exactly how the One Beneath plans to enter our world.

That might be the only way I learn enough to stop Him.

But taking this vow—breaking this most vital of the First Laws—becoming a Sorceress like Elizabeth—that would have its own power. Twist her magic. Change her world in ways she couldn’t guess.

Nadia had only one chance. She took it.

“I’ll join you,” she said.

Mateo cried out, “No!” But Nadia didn’t look at him; she couldn’t afford to now. She would face his betrayal and anger later. For now, this had to be done.

Elizabeth straightened, a gleeful smile dawning on her face. “You have to swear it, you know. And there are penalties for oath-breakers.”

“I know.” She’d pay when the time came. “I know.”

“Then swear him your obedience now.”

She dropped to her knees on the seashells, bowing to the last thing she had ever wanted to bow to. Voice trembling, she said, “I am sworn.” The winds pitched even higher, so much it was hard for Nadia to remain upright. But she got out the words again: “I am sworn.”

Thunder rumbled, and Elizabeth cried, “Once more! Once more and be His. Be mine.”

Mateo’s voice was almost lost in the wind. “Nadia, don’t—”

I’m sorry, Mateo.

I’m sorry, Mom.

Nadia whispered, “I am sworn,” and it was done.

27

ELIZABETH STRETCHED WIDE HER ARMS AND SURRENDERED to the storm. Instead of controlling it, she let the winds and wildness own her. Her power became part of the storm as the storm became a part of her. The waters circled as though caught in a whirlpool, until suddenly they went still—more motionless than the ocean would ever be.

To her it was as though everything uncertain had just been made solid. As if a bone out of joint had popped into place, or a fire had been lit in a cold room. Whatever it was, this sudden sense of order imposed on the chaotic mortal world, Elizabeth knew what it meant: The bridge was built. The One Beneath would come. Nadia’s capitulation had completed the great work, at least for now.

As an afterthought, she let Mateo go; he sagged to his knees. His Steadfast powers had made Nadia stronger, just at the moment when that strength could be used to tie her to the One Beneath irrevocably. Perhaps there was something to be said for young love. Without Mateo, Nadia could never have been so unbreakably damned.

“It is done,” she said, and Nadia hung her head, unwilling to look Elizabeth in the face. “We now have but to break the final seal. That is the hardest of all—but not hard, not truly. Not when His power mingles with our own.”

Still Nadia would not lift her eyes. It was only natural that she would find this a defeat instead of a victory, new to service as she was. Given time, Nadia Caldani would embrace her new role and even glory in it.

Perhaps the girl also suffered from wounded pride. She had, of course, been beaten; no doubt the fact of it shamed her. But servants of the One Beneath learned to do without such luxuries as pride. To humble oneself, to give oneself over to his unhallowed love completely—that was the only joy remaining, after a while.

“The people in the hospital,” Nadia said, voice ragged. “They’re okay?”

What did they matter any longer? Elizabeth shrugged. “I would assume. I do very little for spite. Cruelty should serve a purpose, and it serves many purposes very well. You’ll see.”

Nadia shivered, and for a few moments neither of them spoke.

By now the storm was smoothing into soft rain, which would soon turn into snow. Elizabeth held out her hand. “Return with me to the shore, and our lessons can begin.”