As they age, all things grow rigid and bright.

The streets fall nameless, and the knots untie.

Now, with this landscape, I fix; I shine.

From The Landscape by Robert Desnos

Translated from the French by Don Paterson

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Some say there is a tunnel at the end of your road, and it’s filled with glorious Light. In the Light, the angels are waiting for you, their outstretched wings etched in gold, the folds of their flowing white gowns glowing with a crystalline beauty, iridescent with the Light of God, and that purity and opulence surrounds them, their shining glory showing the Way. They say that a chorus of heavenly voices; more beautiful than your mother’s on the day of your birth, accompanies them, singing in glorious praise.

I say I am the Light at the end of that tunnel.

The great Creator filled me with it when he made all the earthly planes. Now all I had to do was ask Him to fill me with it again. A daunting task, to be sure, especially as I lay in the throes of evil’s mighty grasp, as I writhed and spewed obscenities, as I thrashed about in the darkness like a soul possessed.

But even Pixies need a little help along the way. So that’s what I did as I lay in the circle where evil walked, writhing with the souls of the suffering and the madness of the dead. I called the Light of the Great Creator.

It shouldn’t have been that easy. Nor should it have been as amazing and intense as it felt as my plea left my parched lips, my body awash with the degradation of all of those who were lost to the Darkness.

My people call it Pixie Dusted. And it’s better than sex or chocolate--better than sex with chocolate.

It’s said that only our Queen should be able to call as much Light as I did in that field that night. But with the hand of Darkness upon me, my soul so close to the tensile grasp of my father’s vile madness, I opened myself up to the Light further than I had ever dared to before.

I’m not sure if it was because the circle remained on my body; Mercy, Kieran, Ien, and Garric, the steady points of the elements, channeling me with their touch. Or if it was the extra boost of Gimlit’s heart magic combined with my own. But as soon as I thought of the Light of the World, warmth and brilliance filled me like a golden chalice of eternal peace.

Slowly, methodically, I could hear the screams of all those souls retreating, wounded and screeching like the fluttering of broken wings scurrying to the darkest recesses of the world. Their moans of agony drowned out by the soothing glory of Light.

As warmth washed through me, chasing away the lonely chill that is the taint of evil, my body began to slowly calm, the thrashing subsiding as warmth began to fill me and the cold Darkness of hatred began to recede.

“It’s working,” Garric said, his fingers loosening where he clutched my right ankle.

“It is. Look, she’s starting to glow,” Ien said with a sigh, the tension visibly lessening in his shoulders.

“Don’t let go of her,” Gimlit anxiously told them. “The Darkness is a liar and a corruptor. It will make us think she has been released when she has not. It will look for our weakness and use it to its advantage. Don’t let go of her just yet.”

Cage and the other cops had finally returned to their senses and began to gather around our small circle, fear and disbelief marring many of their faces.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with her?” one of the uniforms asked.

“She’s fucking glowing like a nightlight,” someone said, and a few of the cops took a step back, afraid to get too close.

“Gimlit, what’s wrong with her?” Cage asked, concern once again lacing his words as he looked on with shock.

“She’s channeling the Darkness, and we are trying to rid her soul of its evil taint.”

“Jesus,” he said, his eyes wide as he watched, clutching the grip of his gun as if it would protect him.

My body felt warm and numb, and I could hear the souls scurrying around inside me, looking for a place to hide from the Light. I gritted my teeth in pain as the Darkness tunneled its way through my body, still seeking a way out. I grasped onto that one thought--Light--knowing it was the only way to be free of the madness, to be free of my father.

He screamed though my mind, You will never be free of me! his rage washing through me like a tidal wave, pressing against my Light. My body began to buck and rock in pain as his voice tore through my mind like claws as I tried to throw Gimlit off me. In my fit of pain I managed to kick free of Ien’s hands, my leg flailing wildly as my father’s Darkness roared against my mind, trying to rip me to pieces from the inside out.

It felt as though we were fighting for my very soul and I shrieked, using all of my strength to try to swing my arms out, my hands clenched in fists. Kieran held firmly onto my right shoulder, using his Vampiric strength to his full advantage.

“Fight him, lass. Call your Light and fight him,” he encouraged as he firmly held on to me.

“Call the Light, Rihker,” Mercy added, bearing down on the other side of me.

“Call the Light.” Garric said, following their lead.

Every time someone said the word Light, I could feel it grow stronger. Somehow I clutched on to that word, repeated it over and over in my mind. I said it like a chant, pleading for help, pleading for the Light to fill me. I focused all of my will and thrust it towards Kieran, praying that somehow he would hear me through our bond of blood.

You will never be free, my father growled like a demon bent on my destruction in the dark recesses of my mind. You were conceived of the Darkness, and you shall return to the Darkness.

Then his voice softened and he tried to seductively persuade me. Walk beside me, daughter. Take your place, he coaxed, trying another angle.

“Never!” I yelled, my voice carrying through the night as I thrashed out, straining against those who held me.

“We must help her call the Light,” Kieran said as he looked at Gimlit, conviction in his eyes. “She needs us to help her.”

“Then we do it as one. All of us!” he said, his voice carrying so that all of the cops who were gathered could hear him.

“Cage. You and your men, too.”

“What do we do? How do we call the Light, and what is it?” he asked, unsure of the magic.

“The Light of the World, Cage. It’s the Light of your Creator. Only good will destroy the evil,” he told him, shaking his head at the cop. “How the hell have you hung around as many Others as you have and still not understand us?” Gimlit asked. “Never mind, just pray, say a psalm, or sing a hymn. Whatever you do to send away the Darkness. We do it now. Together.”

Like a litany of psalms to the heavens, their voices rang out softly at first as they tentatively lifted up their voices: each man calling on God, Allah, their Host, or Spirit. Whoever or whatever they prayed to, their voices called out in unison for the Light of the World to fill their daughter and cast the evil away.

Gradually, as their courage strengthened and their fears evaporated, I could remember that Light was the Way as the voices screaming through my mind rocketed through me like escaping poltergeists; each one thrashing against me, fighting the Light before it finally became too much for them and they were thrust out of my body. Each one made a popping sound in my mind as it was forced from me, as it ran from the purity and strength of the Light.

The thrashing once again began to subside, the Darkness fading as my father’s voice wafted through my mind. This is not finished--daughter, he vowed. And I was certain he spoke the truth.

As the last dark spirit left me and my body finally calmed, I was glowing with enough Light to illuminate the farmer’s entire bean field. When I opened my eyes, the warmth of seven summers filling me, Gimlit smiled at me, relief and concern bright in his turquoise eyes as he sighed, “It is done.”