ABOMINATION
I’m torn up by the root, rising through the wraiths until I surface and crack my voice at the sky. I bellow my grief and the sound is multiplied, layers of voices echoing over the rooftops of York.
No.
No.
NO!
Leonie’s ghost stands beside her body, scared and confused, her future stolen.
This can’t happen. It isn’t supposed to be this way. She knew a last big magical working might kill her and she did it anyway. She did it for me, for our friends and family, for the ghosts she’s come to love. Because of her, they’re safe.
God, Leonie.
I should have stopped her, somehow. I should have saved her.
Sam gasps her name, the echo of a sob in his voice.
The wraiths swarming through my blood boil under my skin. The storm swells, slinking around the curve of my jaw, bleeding into my muscle and sinew. Directionless, they beg for focus and fury.
I give it to them.
Diving our thumbs into Meryem’s arm, I grip her throat, stifling her angry gasp. I don’t remember moving. One moment I was by the bank, the next I’m among the remnants of her people and she’s in my grasp. Even struggling, she looks like a queen who’s just ordered an execution, her chin jutted in defiance.
There’s commotion over at the restaurant, people pointing and talking in hushed, shocked tones. Dully, I register hands on my flesh. I flick them away without moving my body, the action present in my mind. It sends the dregs of The Hand flying into each other. They throw magic, the sting railing the wraiths into a frenzy.
A twist of my wrist and the metal fencing around the gardens bends and warps. Concrete cracks under us, sending pain searing through my stumps but the wraiths act like a shot of morphine, fading my discomfort to a background blur.
The hollowness inside us stretches wider and I’m overwhelmed by hunger, not only for the souls that gleam around us like stars but for revenge. Meryem’s a single spark among many, the green glow of her essence deep and old. Will she taste guilty as we strip her from the world, tearing her soul spark to scattered remnants and drinking our fill?
She’s afraid.
An elated smile crosses my face. This feels as amazing as I thought mirroring would, better even. The wraiths wriggle in glee, eager to sink teeth into her. Her power will become ours, sustaining us, easing the hunger pangs. After everything she’s done – sealing Mitch, taking Sam, killing Viola, trapping countless innocent others – we will have our fill.
Pressure on my arm and a voice behind us. “Charlie, no!”
A glinting stylus manifests in Meryem’s hand, the same one she used an hour or so ago to carve magic into our ribs. She rips it into my chest, pain spidering from its tip.
We round on the soul fire that has grabbed our flesh. It’s a middle-aged man with receding hair and a blocky jaw, his nose red from the cold. His grey-green eyes find mine. Dad.
The essence inside me is intoxicating and unmovable. So much greater than I ever was on my own. I was too pathetic. I couldn’t even ward the city properly, now I will devour anything that threatens us. This is what I wanted.
But I’m not protecting the people I love, I’m scaring them.
I hesitate.
That’s not who I am.
I’m a tattered scout uniform, a Paralympic mug faded from too many goes through the dishwasher, a smiley face on my prostheses. I sit on the porch beside Heather, throwing sticks for Dante that he can’t pick up. I hold up a stuffed three-headed dog toy and wonder if Ollie will like it. I kiss Sam in the rain, hoping that I get the chance to kiss him again and again and again.
Releasing Meryem, I back away.
“No, you don’t stop!” The angry shout comes from the riverbank. Viola. “The Hand deserve none of your pity, her least of all. You’ve become what she has always feared most: a corruption of her theorem. Where Caleb Gates failed, you will succeed. End her.”
Ignoring Viola, I focus on the man in front of me.
“Dad, I-I’m sorry.”
He holds me tight like I’m just a kid. “You’re all right, you’re all right.”
“No, you are meant for this, Charlie.” Viola swoops closer, something wild in her eyes. “I saw it in the bones. This is how it ends, this is how Meryem falls.”
“Y’know, most of The Hand don’t even know what Meryem did.” My voice cracks. “But you slaughtered them anyway. You want me to blame her but Leonie’s dead because of you. You taught her complex theorems and encouraged her to burn through her life without warning us of the costs.”
“I did,” says Viola and the simplicity of it sends goosebumps chasing over my skin. “Because the bones are never wrong. She had to be the one to seal you and her death would push you over the edge to do what needs to be done. That’s why I taught her just as I positioned you to become what Caleb Gates failed to be, strong enough to end Meryem’s reign.”
It all slips into place.
Viola never wanted a hero, she needed a villain. An executioner.
Well, fuck that.
And fuck her.
I could end both Meryem and Viola’s afterlives right now, all I have to do is give in to the hunger and let the wraiths take control. It would feel amazing, power singing through my veins and me sinking down into the dark again. No fear, no feelings, no regrets. But it wouldn’t make anything better. It won’t bring Leonie back.
“You” – I point to Viola – “and you.” I whip around to Meryem who is just behind Dad, watching warily. “Get the fuck out of my city.”
“Charlie, you must let the wraiths eat her,” Viola begs. The knucklebones are clutched in her palm. “You have to consume to survive now—”
“Vi?” There’s a pretty lass in wide legged trousers and a fedora on the steps, freckled cheeks, hair in a cute bob around her earlobes. “What … what did you do?”
“Edie.” Viola breathes her name like she’s been suffocating for a century.
Edie walks down the steps and takes Viola’s face in her hands. They kiss, sweet and light, and for a moment I see the Viola I thought I knew, standing by the river in a pretty tea gown with her sweetheart in her arms.
“I remember Meryem telling me you were meant for her, and then I was in Dean’s Park and everything looks so different and people were screaming—”
“It’s all going to be well, my darling,” Viola soothes. “The Hand trapped you, but they won’t ever again. I’ve made sure of that.”
“You did this?” Edie gasps. “The dead, they were… No, the girl I fell in love with wouldn’t do this to people.”
“I’m not her any more.” Viola takes her girlfriend’s hands from her face. “You’re right, I’m not the Viola you fell for. I had to become someone else. I’d do anything for you, including becoming someone you can’t love if it means you being free and safe in the world.”
“Vi—”
“I’m not sorry. The Hand are in tatters, Meryem is finished and you’re free, your afterlife is your own now.”
Hands snake up from the waters, grasping at her skirts. Edie gasps, staggering back to safety as Viola lets herself be drawn backwards. The river ghosts grip her ankles. She doesn’t fight. If anything, she looks relieved.
“You weren’t supposed to find me until it was over. There’s no place for someone like me in your world now.” Viola smiles at Edie, as if she’s the last and most important thing in the universe. “Charlie, please. All will happen as it should. Finish this.”
She spreads her arms wide and topples back into the water, hands dragging her beneath the surface. The last part of her to disappear is her palm full of knucklebones.
She’s finished.
It’s over.
“Ch-Charlie.” Dad stammers my name. Meryem holds a sharp silver stylus to his throat.