Bloodline (Whyborne & Griffin Book 5) (26 page)

Utter silence fell over the room. Some of the humans had
fainted, but even those who hadn’t only stared in mute horror. The ketoi remained
silent as well, watching Persephone with a sort of awe. Stone Biter grinned
fiercely, and a few more of the donors fainted at the sight.

“Dives Deep is dead at my hand,” Persephone declared, her
voice ringing in the grand space. “And the other lies defeated at the feet of
my brother Percival.”

Father started badly. He didn’t know. Stanford had never
bothered to tell him about his other daughter.

“Their power is broken,” she went on. “
A new queen shall
rule beneath the flood.
” She glanced at me. “One for the land.”

“And one for the sea,” I whispered. Had Griffin been right,
when he asked if the prophecy referred to us?

Persephone lowered the grisly head. “Come. Return home. This
war is at an end.”

The ketoi obeyed her, a soft shuffle of claws on marble.
Three of them lifted Dives Deep’s headless body and carried it out with them.
Persephone watched them go. As the crowd behind us began to whisper, then cry
out in relief and anger, I ran to Griffin’s side.

He leaned heavily against Christine, his face white and his
hands red with blood. He wore only his shirt above the waist, and Christine had
used the arm of his suit coat to create a makeshift bandage. Spotting me,
Griffin smiled weakly and held out one hand.

“Well done,” he said. His voice was hoarse but strong.

“You need medical attention.” I went to my knees, afraid to
touch him.

One of the donors hurried up. “I’m a doctor,” he said.

“The wound isn’t serious,” Christine said. “The bullet
scraped along the rib, I think, but fortunately Stanford’s aim was terrible.”

Stanford. I glanced back over my shoulder. Several of the
men had rolled Stanford onto his stomach and bound him. Another doctor tended
to Father, whose face was almost as pale as the marble floor. No doubt he’d
received the greatest series of shocks in his life tonight.

The cold air streaming through the open doors brought with
it the sound of a motor car’s engine. A moment later, footsteps pounded up the
steps to the entrance. Fenton appeared, his eyes wild with fright. They went
even wider when he beheld the destruction within.

“Fenton?” What on earth was the man doing here?

He blinked again at seeing me. I must look a state—my
hat long gone, my coat torn, my shirt bloody. The sight of Persephone caused
his mouth to gape…but after a moment, he seemed to collect himself. “M-Master
Percival? Thank God!” He swayed where he stood, one hand to his chest, as if
his heart troubled him. “It’s your mother.”

“Mother?” Cold fear washed through me.

“Y-yes. Your cousins—the Endicotts—they came to
the house. Forced their way in using unnatural powers. They said—they
said to tell you they mean to wipe this entire cursed town off the map, and if
you do anything to stop them, your mother will pay with her life.”

I stared at him for a long moment in disbelief. The
Endicotts had been shocked at my revelation, disgusted even, but for this to be
their solution…

Then again, perhaps I should have expected it. Our ancestors
had dropped half of a medieval town into the sea. What had Theo called
Widdershins, the day we mapped the arcane lines? A bloody nightmare?

They’d meant to stay and help me cleanse it of whatever
magic they deemed unacceptable. Any besides than their own, in other words. The
truth of my lineage must have convinced them there was no saving Widdershins.
The corruption ran too deep.

It was their solemn duty to put an end to us. And what
better night than Hallowe’en, when the arcane energies would be at their
height?

God. Did they mean to use the maelstrom? They had the wand
to help them tap into its power, after all.

I rose shakily to my feet and looked around. Griffin was
hurt, and even though the injury wasn’t critical, he was in no shape to fight.
Christine, however, met my gaze calmly.

“I’m with you, of course,” she said.

I shook my head. “No. You can’t.”

Her black brows snapped together. “Damn it, Whyborne—”

“No!” She fell silent at my shout. “They’re sorcerers,
Christine. If you bring your rifle, they’ll set fire to the powder and blow it
up in your hands.”

“A sword, then or an ax—”

“You don’t know how to fight with one,” I cut her off. “And
the Endicotts have been doing this their entire lives. They know far more magic
than I. They think destroying the town is the right thing to do, and they won’t
hold back, not for anyone. I can’t fight them and keep you safe.”

Rising to my feet, I looked out over the foyer, the broken
exhibits and damaged fossils, the destroyed decorations and fainting donors.
Dr. Hart and Mr. Mathison had both begun to approach, but stopped when they’d
heard Fenton’s words. Now they looked at me in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll turn in my resignation tomorrow
morning. If I survive, I mean.”

Miss Parkhurst ran up to me, giving Persephone a wide berth.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but good luck, Dr. Whyborne,” she said, and
kissed me quickly on the cheek.

I blinked in surprise and touched the spot, even as she
fled, her face burning. Turning back, I saw Griffin struggling to his feet,
most of his weight on Christine’s arm. “Look after Father,” I said to them.
“I…I’ll see you later.”

“Ival,” Griffin reached for me. I stepped closer, and he
gripped my arm. “The Endicotts have been doing this their whole lives, as you
said. And maybe they know more magic.” He met my gaze, and I read there all the
love he had for me. “But you
are
magic.”

I wanted to reply, but my throat was too tight with emotion.
So I only nodded. He squeezed once, then let go.

Ignoring the burning in my eyes, I turned to my sister.
“Persephone? Will you help me fight them?”

Her tentacle hair rose in an angry halo around her head.
“Yes.”

“Sir?” Fenton asked, and a note of fear quivered in his
voice. “Shall I drive you?”

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you.”

Not daring to look back at Griffin and Christine, I hurried
out the doors, Persephone and Fenton behind me.

~ * ~

I clung to the motor car’s seat as Fenton drove us through
the winding streets with reckless speed. The storm clouds I’d noticed at the
cemetery had rolled in while we were inside the museum, and now fat drops of
rain began to pelt from the sky, stinging painfully against our exposed skin.

“Can you summon the other ketoi back?” I shouted over the
rush of wind and rain.

Persephone perched in my lap, her arms loosely around my
neck and her tentacle hair crushed against my face. Fortunately, the stingers
appeared to be under some sort of conscious control. The tentacles themselves
felt odd but not unpleasant, if I ignored their occasional wriggle.

“No—not without a stone.” Her mouth tightened in a
frown. “I should not have dismissed them—but I thought it would make
things easier for the land people, allow me to show the danger is passed.”

“It was a good idea. You didn’t know the Endicotts would do
this. Threaten the town. Kidnap Mother.”

If the twins hurt Mother, I didn’t know what I’d do. Did
they have her out even now in the soaking rain? Was she afraid? Hurt?

“We’re almost there,” Fenton shouted over the rumble of
thunder. At least he hadn’t questioned I knew where to go. If the twins truly
meant to wipe Widdershins from the face of the earth, they’d need immense power
to do it. Despite the dangers, they’d go to the heart of the maelstrom. The
ancient bridge over the Cranch, where it entered the bay.

The streets grew darker as we neared the bay, and the
downpour strengthened, until we were all soaked. I could
feel
the arcane
rivers beneath us, swirling fast and tight toward the center, in a way I’d
never been able to before. Because of the date, the ancient Witches Sabbath? Or
because, having touched its power several times now, I’d become in some way
attuned to the flow?

Or because Widdershins knew me, as the poem-prophecy said?

We turned onto Front Street, and Fenton brought the motor
car to a halt. The electric lights of the bridge shone in the darkness,
although we were still far enough away to make out only indistinct shapes on
the span. Two appeared to be wearing robes, which flapped and snapped in the
breeze.

Persephone and I climbed out of the motor car. A stiff wind
blew from the ocean, ruffling my hair and bringing with it the sound of
chanting. “Go back to the museum,” I told Fenton. “Take Father, Griffin, and
Christine as far from here as you can.”

Fenton nodded. “Yes, sir. Where should we go?”

“Given the family history, as far away from the ocean as
possible.”

I walked down the street, every nerve alive and thrumming,
Persephone at my side. Thunder rumbled again, and lightning cracked out to sea.

We reached the bridge. Fiona’s wand stood upright in its
center, somehow jammed into the solid stone. Chalked sigils marked the road all
around it. As we approached, Theo took up position at Fiona’s side, near the
low stone railing.

Persephone and I froze, side-by-side, mirrors of the Endicott
twins. One pair human, the other monstrous, and at the moment, I wasn’t even
sure which was truly which.

Fiona held Mother in front of her, one arm tight around her
waist. The other pressed the tip of a vicious blade to her chest.

“Stay back,” Fiona warned. “Unless you want to see her die
before your eyes.”

Mother was pale, and a dark bruise showed on one cheek. They
hadn’t taken her easily. She gripped Fiona’s wrist with both hands, as if
holding the dagger back from her flesh. But years of illness had sapped her
strength, and if Fiona chose to stab her, there was nothing she could do to
prevent it.

Mother’s eyes widened at the sight of us. “Persephone?”

Persephone nodded. “Yes.”

“How touching,” Theo said, his lip curling. “The mother of
monsters and her litter, together at last.”

“Let her go.” My voice trembled, and I swallowed hard
against my fear. “There’s no need to threaten her.”

“No need?” Theo let out a bitter laugh. “This town is a
blight on the face of the earth! Your woods are haunted, your most powerful
families poisoned by dark magic. The very streets were designed by a
necromancer. Even the public museum is filled with cursed objects and tomes that
ought to be shut away or burned. There is every need!”

“But it’s all right,” Fiona said. “The sea will wipe
everything away and make it clean again.”

No. She couldn’t truly mean it. “You’re raising a tidal
wave? But—but that’s madness! You’ll die, too!”

Fiona’s eyes gleamed in the light. “Yes. If such is the
price we must pay for protecting humanity from monsters like you, then so be
it. We’ve lived life to the fullest, and now we can die without regret, so long
as we take you with us.”

She truly believed her words. She—and
Theo—looked at me and beheld a horror. No different from the gh
ū
ls, or the yayhos, or the
abominable Guardians. She and Theo were saving the world, and nothing I could
say would convince her otherwise.

And in the meantime, she held my mother tight against her, a
tiny dot of blood forming on her bodice where the knife pressed a little too
hard.

“But we’re not without mercy,” Theo said. “Surrender, don’t
fight us, and we’ll let Heliabel go. She might even escape what’s already in
motion.”

Already in motion. The spell was cast. The wave on its way.

“No!” Mother shouted. Her eyes narrowed, and she gave Theo
such a look of scorn he took a step back. “You will not use me to hurt my
children.”

She met my gaze then, and the anger slid away, replaced by
love and something very like grief. “Send them both to hell, my knight,” she
said.

Then she jerked Fiona’s knife to her instead of pushing it
away.

The blade slid into her chest, all the way to the hilt.
Blood instantly darkened her bodice, and she let out a choked sound of anguish.
Fiona shouted in surprise and instinctively pulled the knife free, springing
back from the sudden gush of blood that followed it.

“No!” The sound tore its way out of my throat. Persephone
and I ran onto the bridge, but we were already too late.

Mother stumbled back, her life flowing out of the terrible wound.
Her legs struck the stone railing—and she flung herself over, back, and
into the river.

She was gone.

~ * ~

The world stopped. Or maybe just my world.

Nothing remained but a pool of blood, already washing away
in the rain. A roaring sound filled my ears, and the bones of my arms and legs
didn’t seem to work correctly anymore.

I’d expected to lose her, ever since I was old enough to
understand the meaning of death, to know there was no other possible end to
Mother’s long illness. But not like this.

Send them both to hell, my knight.

I screamed, and the world screamed with me.

Wind howled across the bridge, funneled by nothing save my
desire to see Theo and Fiona pay, to see them hurt and broken and shrieking.
Rain pelted them, accompanied by a sudden onslaught of stinging hail. The gale
caught their robes, tangling the fabric about their bodies. Fiona stumbled, the
hood temporarily blinding her.

Theo dropped to the ground, hands pressed against the
bridge. I started toward him, my pulse slamming in my ears, my only thought to
rip out his heart.

The stones of the bridge turned soft beneath my feet, my
shoes sinking into them like mud. Taken off guard, I glanced down, only to see
the stone resolidify, trapping my shoes. I jerked against its grip, but it held
fast.

“You’re too late, cousin!” Theo shouted. The wind died along
with my concentration, and he scrambled to his feet. “Look—the river
level is already dropping as the sea retreats. What’s coming over the horizon
will cleanse this hellhole of ketoi and dark sorcery alike.”

I tried to shatter the stone holding me fast, but command of
earth had never come as easily to me as the other elements.

But I wasn’t alone in this fight. Persephone let out a growl
of fury, and the scars on my own arm tingled as she grasped the river beneath
us with her will. A wall of water heaved up from beneath the bridge, curling as
it prepared to smash down on the Endicotts and flatten them against the stones.

Fiona spun and faced the side of the bridge, both hands
flung up before her. The wall of water stopped, churning, as her will held Persephone’s
back.

Before I could call a warning, Theo struck. A blast of wind
hit Persephone, sending her into the wand still rooted in the center of the
bridge. The wand snapped under her weight, and both hit the railing. She tried
to scramble to her feet, but he struck her again, hurling her over the rail at
the same point Mother had fallen. The river collapsed back into its banks,
Persephone’s spell shattered.

I finally succeeded in wrenching free of my trapped shoes.
The stones of the bridge felt cold beneath my socks.

Frost raced over my skin, biting and stinging, and the
rainwater under my feet turned to a sheen of ice. I tried to draw on fire to
melt it, but before I could, Theo hit me with another gust of wind. My feet
went out from under me, and I struck the bridge hard enough to knock the breath
from my lungs.

“Give up,” Theo said. He stalked toward me, his expression
one of fury and hate. “Why waste your last moments fighting us both, when you
can’t possibly win?”

My last moments.

I felt the maelstrom beneath me, arcane energy swirling in
from both land and ocean, fast and wild as a riptide. The tidal wave rolled in,
still out to sea but closing quickly. The sea wall wouldn’t be enough to blunt
its fury, and a good part of Widdershins would be swept away. These wouldn’t
just be my last moments, but Griffin’s as well. Unless Fenton had performed a
miracle of driving, they’d surely be caught up: Griffin and Christine, Father.
Miss Parkhurst, Dr. Hart, Bradley, everyone I’d known. Hundreds of souls packed
into the tenement houses, the sailors along the wharf. Thieves and whores and beggars;
husbands and wives and children. All were going to die, and most of them would
never even know why.

Beneath my hands lay the flood of magic that had drawn
Blackbyrne to Widdershins two centuries ago: too dangerous and raw for anyone
to touch directly. Even knowing he would die tonight, Theo had diverted it
carefully into the spell, funneled through the wand.

If only the wand hadn’t broken, perhaps I might have made
use of it. But as it was, I had nothing except myself.

“Then the town will rise to his hand,” I whispered. “One for
the sea, and one for the land.”