A ripping sensation etched through my chest—a sound of screeching agony escaped my lungs, as if my heart were being torn from my body with forceps. I came back to my senses to see the black inky tendrils of Katia’s soul suspended in midair, hovering between my mother and me. The tremendous force of pure energy my mother summoned as she chanted nearly took my breath away. Despite the chaos around us, my mother looked more radiant than ever, her chestnut hair flowing like that of a goddess, the golden light behind her illuminating her frame. I recognized the words; this was something she practiced at home all the time, but I never understood it until now. She always said she was practicing hanging on to her soul as the world collapsed around her and now she was using that same power to control Katia’s soul, to hold her at bay. But it was more than that . . . it was a resurrection chant.
My mother’s attention seemed to be focused on a spot beyond me. I turned, thinking she was looking at Dane or Coronado, but they were still trapped in Katia’s spell, looking on, completely helpless. But as I turned back, something caught my eye. Pale, narrow fingers clutching the edge of the chasm. My heart seized as I watched Marie climb out of the crevice. She walked straight toward me, blood dripping from the palm of her hand, She grasped my hand. The feel of her cold, slick skin pressing up against mine was like a dark memory—something buried deep within my soul—something inevitable.
My mother acknowledged Marie with her eyes. The resurrection chant was meant for Marie. No longer a ghost or a vision, she was completely corporal now, made of flesh and bone. And then in one forceful inhalation, my mother sucked in the black tendrils of Katia’s soul. My mother’s body shook, her eyes bulged, dark veins protruded from underneath her stretched skin.
Marie pried the golden blade from the hand of Katia’s discarded body and pressed it into my palm.
The knife molded to my hand as if it were meant to be there.
“It’s the only way.” My mother struggled to speak. “I won’t be able to hold her for long.”
Marie tightened my grip around the knife.
My knees buckled.
“No,” I whispered, horrified by the realization of what she wanted me to do.
“If you don’t do it,” my mother said, “Katia will take over your body and soul. Think of Rhys. He needs you.”
“I can’t,” I whispered. I closed my eyes to the horror before me and thought of my mother teaching me to swim in the Sargasso Sea, holding me up above her as the waves came crashing down. Showing me how gentle the world could be through nature and scent. Drying my tears with gold-tinged fingertips. Brushing my hair back from my damp cheeks, telling me how special I was. She taught me how to be brave, how to love—protected me at every turn. How could I end her life when she’d given me so much?
“Do it,” my mother grunted in pain. I opened my eyes to see her convulsing, struggling to keep Katia’s evil inside of her.
“I can’t!” I screamed. “I can’t let you go.”
“We’ll do it together.” My mother managed to smile through her pain.
She took my trembling hands within hers, placing the tip of the knife against her chest. Her beautiful moss-green eyes enveloped me with tremendous love and warmth.
Marie wrapped her arms around us both in a violent embrace.
I heard the golden knife slipping between my mother’s ribs, and felt the warm burst of blood as it entered her heart. Her jaw went slack, her eyes darkened, and her body went limp in my arms.
As I held on to her, a great radiance blossomed beneath my mother’s skin, until hundreds of tiny drops of light bubbled up, clinging to her like golden beads. I felt every one of them—each bead, a soul. The souls of my ancestors, the souls Katia had collected over the years.
I felt love, peace, and forgiveness beaming from her skin.
The golden beads intensified into tiny molten suns until a huge explosion ripped through her body, throwing me to the ground.
As my mother’s ashes rained down on me, I watched Marie grasp the ankle of Katia’s discarded body and drag her back toward the chasm. “A daughter’s love is the greatest love of all,” she cooed as she pulled Katia with her over the edge.
48
ASH
A SONIC BOOM ripped through the fields, collecting all the energy from the atmosphere. In a great show of power, the menacing wind encircling Dane and Coronado was pulled inside the chasm. Dane collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, while Coronado disintegrated into a pile of black blood, skin, and bones. The ground shook and heaved until the chasm surged together, leaving behind only a narrow crack in the earth’s crust.
As I lay there, facedown in the barren circle, I stretched out my hand, tracing my fingers over the thin crack in the earth. My mother made the ultimate sacrifice. Coronado and Katia were gone. Marie was finally at peace. I’d never felt such sorrow and relief—it was over.
With great effort, I pushed myself into a sitting position to find Dane digging through Coronado’s remains. He stood, wiping the blade of Coronado’s dagger clean on the side of his pants.
As I studied him, a tiny bit of static rushed through my heart.
He walked toward me. A deep chill raced through my bloodstream. Something was off.
His eyes carried a dark glimmer that didn’t belong there.
His gait.
His scent.
Sandalwood, mandarins, strawberries, and the sea invaded my nostrils—Coronado’s scent mixed with his own.
“It’s you.” I exhaled a tremulous breath.
“You’re a remarkable woman. Highly intuitive and very brave.”
He had Dane’s voice, but the phrasing was all wrong.