Anger triggers the chasm. Only peace can make it go away.
I grunt at the absurdity of the conjecture. Peace. Peace? How the hell am I supposed to make peace with this thing that is devouring me from the inside and destroying everything else outside?
But at this point, I see no other option. I’ve been desperately wrestling the chasm, trying to stop its advance, to absolutely no effect.
If I embrace it, if I accept it as part of me, perhaps that will…
Perhaps that will what? Once more, anger surges through me at the absurdity of that thought. Accepting this thing would be like accepting a flesh-eating disease feasting on your skin.
With that surge of anger, the chasm pulses and grows even larger. I am moments away from losing myself completely to it.
So, in one last act of desperation, I close my eyes, try to relax my body, and still my mind.
For a second, nothing happens. But I have committed to this. No doubt is allowed. All the roiling emotions inside of me are forced into restraint by some manifestation of the Mind Gift. I use the same skill I’ve learned, keeping my vampiric half in check to abolish the tumultuous feelings consuming me. The fear, the anger, the panic, the apprehension… all of it, I smooth away, until nothing is left in my mind but a pure, empty canvas.
And suddenly, the chasm latches on. It shoots from existing somewhere in my body to, instead, occupying a white field in my mind. For a moment, I think I’ve made a grave mistake. The chasm envelopes the field, running over it like melted silver, and with it is afforded immediate control over my body, my limbs, my sympathetic nervous system, my parasympathetic one…
I feel my ego dwindling, feel myself being swept away on the Currents…
But then something amazing happens. Out of nowhere, the vampire essence bursts into being. It fights back against the ever-encroaching chasm of chaos, and it… it starts to push it back.
My arms and legs are restored to me first. With that comes control. My senses are next, all the highly attuned ones that have developed from centuries in the blood. In moments, my entire body is restored to me.
The vampire essence forces the chasm to the back of my mind.
Darkness fights darkness in the empty white field. But while one darkness is foreign and parasitic, the other is fully known. With my consciousness freed of unnecessary emotions, I can add my own will power to the fight. I lend all that I have to the vampire essence, and it swirls around the open chasm, forcing it back, making it shrink, making it ever smaller.
Hope blooms in my chest.
The chasm tries to fight, but the essence is too strong, too overpowering. The essence is at home—the chasm is the intruder. The swirling streaks build and build, upping in intensity.
Suddenly, there’s a flash. I see it in my mind’s eye, brighter than any sun.
And just like that, the chasm is contained, taking up space no larger than a small flame, burning a putrid black.
It doesn’t take much concentration to snuff it out. And what is left is a tiny ball of magic, a dense concentration of the Elemental Forces, held in place by the vampiric darkness that sustains me.
I wait a moment.
Equilibrium has been reached.
I now feel the magic just as much a part of me, a part of my soul, a part of my mind, as the vampire essence is.
Peace does finally wash over me, and I open my eyes to take in the room.
Time slows. I wade forward through the water and raise my arms. The magic is mine to control. I use reversed weaves of Water to take all the liquid in the room and revert them back into the air.
The effect is almost instantaneous. The water disappears, drying the whole area we’re in. I turn to the door that’s been thrown off its supports and use delicate weaves of Air to lift it up and fix it back in place.
When that’s done, I look upon the other vampires. April and Paul are gasping, coughing out water. I have almost forgotten about them, they are of so little consequences. I notice April’s hair is still wet, so I suck that moisture out as well, restoring it to our surroundings, then do the same to all our clothes.
Victoria’s mouth moves. She says something, but her words flow right over me. I am still operating on some higher plane, with everything feeling like it is part of a dream.
And then I see the small splattering of ash on the floor, on the walls, and recognize it for what it is: the charred remains of Paul’s daughter.
A sudden sadness crashes into me. I fall to my knees. An all-encompassing weakness comes, too, and I start to shiver, as if with the chills.
Time starts flowing normally again.
Victoria dashes to me. “James!” she exclaims. “James, what have you done? James, are you there? James, James?”
“I’m here,” I tell her, wearily.
“You destroyed the child,” she says. There is no emotion in her voice.
“She was not a vampire and would never have become one.” I look up at Paul, who is staring at me, horrified. “I am sorry. I could not control what I did. But—” with a pained grunt, I push myself up, “—now I can.”
I allow a small smile to spread across my lips. “Now I can harness the Elemental Forces. The battle has been won. And Cierra…” I start to laugh. “…Cierra had best be prepared when she comes for me.”
I laugh and laugh, on and on, until the sound descends into wails of madness.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Eleira
The Haven.
I walk past the guards and descend the steps to Morgan’s hidden chamber. I find her body right where I’d left it, on the stone torrial slab in the middle of the room.
The Forsaken Sisters span out around me. “There she is,” I say. We approach. I take hold of the white sheet covering her and fling it off.
I keep my disgust hidden as her ruined body is revealed. The Forsaken Sisters show no outward reaction.
Only Rebecca gasps.
She walks to the altar first. I shoot her a look that tells her she’s come far enough.
Her eyes sweep over the body. She seems to be battling a host of different emotions.
“How long has she been like this?” she finally asks.
“Not long enough,” I mutter. Allura, Sute, and Lorne are communicating telepathically about this, I just know.
“Nobody should exist in such a state…” Rebecca whispers. “Many, many times over the years I have wished the worst type of death upon my cousin. But this is worse than anything I could have imagined.” She turns her gaze to me and gives a thin smile. “I thank you for doing this to her. If she remains like this indefinitely, I’ll consider our score settled.”
“She will not remain like this,” Allura steps forward. “The torrials are not only keeping her alive, they are also helping her recover. Year by year, she will regain more and more of herself. And with the demon blood that she took in, she will become something else.”
“What do you mean,” I ask softly, “become something else?”
“Demon blood kills,” Allura explains. “But it is also the strongest blood in existence. The vampire essence by itself is not enough to stave off the deadly effects of the poison. However—” she motions at the markings around the stone slabs, “—however, if one finds a way to survive after the ingestion of the corrosive substance, say, through the use of Blood Magic? Then she will become a wholly new sort of being, unrivaled by any on Earth.”
My eyes narrow. “Are you saying Morgan drank from the Narwhark not only to steal the crown from me, but to make herself more powerful?”
“I suspect that was the most pressing reason of all,” Allura responds. “You are very strong, Eleira, given the circumstances of your birth. But not even your strength, when fully realized, would match what Morgan could have become.”
“You said you need to use her to restore Rebecca’s soul and free Cassandra,” I say. “Well, there she is. Let’s get to it!”
“We need the painting first,” Lorne says. She walks around Morgan, examining the body. She places a hand just over her forehead and closes her eyes.