Chapter 18
Evil Torments
SEBASTIAN HAD KNOWN that his eyesight’s return was only temporary, but when the lightning struck him and his vision faded, panic swept through him. He couldn’t stand the thought of again existing in that unrelenting black hole where he felt helpless and inept. However, his panic was cut short when, a moment before he plunged back into darkness, he glanced toward Sarah and saw her eyes close and her body slump. He made a blind grab for her and caught her, but her limp body dragged him down. He had to sink to his knees to keep from dropping her.
“Sarah?” he said anxiously, when he pulled her against his chest and her head lolled against his arm. He cursed the fact that he couldn’t see her and tried to connect with her mind to find out what was wrong. But her mind was again closed to him. All he could determine was that she was alive. What had happened to her?
He started when he heard a groan off to his right, and he jerked his head in that direction. Lucien! Between his and Sarah’s lovemaking and the ensuing events, Sebastian had forgotten him. He quickly brushed against Lucien’s mind and let out a relieved sigh. Other than some aches and pains, Lucien was okay and it seemed he would regain consciousness shortly. In the meantime, Sebastian had to summon help.
Zachary, it’s Sebastian, he thought, establishing contact with the warlock’s mind. It looks like Lucien’s okay, but there’s something wrong with Sarah. Go get Ryan and—
Ryan’s already here, Zachary interrupted. We’re waiting for you to give us the okay to come to you.
Sebastian scowled. I told Ryan to stay with Ariel.
Ariel wanted Ryan to be able to get to Lucien as soon as possible if he needed medical attention, so she sent him back. Should we come?
Yes, Sebastian answered.
We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.
Sebastian cursed as he cut off the connection, irritated that Ryan hadn’t obeyed him. As a mortal, he couldn’t protect himself against magic. If Zachary had had to battle the talisman, his attention would have been torn between it and protecting Ryan. That could have cost all of them their lives. But he couldn’t summon up the anger Ryan’s disobedience warranted because he was relieved that Ryan would be able to examine Sarah right away.
It seemed to take forever before he finally heard the car. When it braked to a stop and he heard a door fly open, he called out, “Zachary, you stay with Lucien until he wakes up. Ryan, I need you over here.”
There was a flurry of footsteps, and then Ryan said, “What happened?”
“I’m not sure,” Sebastian answered, tilting his head up toward Ryan’s voice. “She was”—
“My God! Your eyes!” Ryan broke in disbelievingly. “You said you were blind, but you didn’t say that your eyes had turned solid white!”
“Forget my eyes,” Sebastian snapped. “Sarah’s the one you need to worry about.”
“Of course.” Sebastian heard Ryan kneel across from him as he continued, “It’s just that you wore sunglasses when I saw you before, so I was shocked when I saw your eyes. What happened to the woman?”
“We were struck by the talisman’s lightning, and—”
“You were struck by lightning?”
“It was magical lightning,” Sebastian explained impatiently. “It shouldn’t have made her pass out.”
“Yeah, well, let’s lay her on the ground so I can examine her.”
When Ryan started to shift Sarah out of Sebastian’s arms, he found himself reluctant to let her go. Something inside him insisted that as long as he held her she’d be safe, but if he let her go, something would happen to her. He knew the feeling was absurd, so he forced himself to release her.
“How’s Sarah?” he finally asked when several seconds passed without any comment from Ryan.
“She’s asleep.”
Sebastian frowned, sure he’d misunderstood. “Asleep? She’s completely out of it. If she were just asleep, couldn’t we wake her up?”
“If we really tried, we might be able to, but I suggest we leave her alone,” Ryan replied. “I’ve seen a few cases like this, and generally, the person is escaping from some emotional trauma she isn’t ready to face. I suspect the lightning frightened her so badly that she’s retreated for a while. When she’s ready to deal with what happened, she’ll wake up on her own. By the way, here are your sunglasses. You might want to put them on in case someone else shows up. Your eyes are . . . startling, to say the least.”
Sebastian took the glasses and slipped them on while considering what Ryan had said about Sarah. He knew the lightning wouldn’t have frightened her, but she had been overly upset before it struck them. Indeed, she’d been so distraught that she’d told him he had to kill her before . . .
Before what? he wondered, realizing she hadn’t completed the sentence. What had she been trying to tell him? What had the talisman done to her to make her feel she had to die immediately?
He shuddered involuntarily, knowing that for her to beg for death and then fall into such a deep sleep, the talisman had either told her or shown her something horrible. If he’d learned nothing else about Sarah, it was that she was psychologically strong. Otherwise, she’d have surrendered to the talisman long before now.
“What?” he said, realizing Ryan had spoken.
“I said, why don’t you let Zachary take you and the woman back to the clinic? I’ll wait for Lucien to regain full consciousness and bring him in. Then I’ll give all of you a good checkup.”
“I don’t need a checkup. I’m fine,” Sebastian said, climbing to his feet.
“I want to look at your eyes, Sebastian.”
“Forget my eyes. There’s nothing you can do for them.”
“You won’t know that for sure until I look at them.”
Sebastian started to argue, but decided to maintain his peace. If Ryan wanted to waste his time looking at something he couldn’t fix, he’d let him look. For now, he’d get Sarah off the ground and into a bed. Maybe that simple comfort would encourage her to wake up so she could tell him what in hell the talisman was up to now.
But an hour later, Sebastian sat on the edge of an examining table, furious that he couldn’t see so he could pace the room. Sarah slept soundly in the small bed in the corner, and he hadn’t heard her move since Zachary had placed her there. Lucien, who was in another examining room, had awakened and was physically okay, but he was so disoriented he didn’t even know his name. Zachary had just returned from the boundary to report that there was indeed a crack in the barrier, although it was so small you couldn’t see it unless you were looking for it.
Sebastian wasn’t reassured by the report. He knew the barrier’s erosion would soon escalate, and the words twelve hours kept repeating themselves over and over in his head. He was sure the talisman was inserting that time frame into his mind to torment him. But was it telling him the truth about the barrier? If so, was it saying that they had twelve hours before the erosion accelerated, or twelve hours before it was complete? The only person who might know was Sarah.
“Dammit, Sarah,” he muttered, turning his head in her direction. “Would you please wake up? I need your help.”
When he didn’t hear so much as a soft snore in response, he cursed. He’d never felt so frustrated or so ineffectual. Time was running out, and he didn’t know what to do. Lucien couldn’t start repair work on the barrier until his mind cleared, and Sarah, who might be able to give him some answers, was doing a damn good imitation of Sleeping Beauty.
“I can’t believe this day,” Sebastian heard Ryan announce harriedly as Ryan opened the door and walked into the room. “For weeks I’ve sat here without a single patient coming in the door, and today, when I need to be concentrating on you and Lucien, I get two minor emergencies. But they’re both taken care of and on their way home. I just checked on Lucien. He’s still disoriented. So why don’t you take off those glasses and let me look at your eyes?”
Sebastian scowled and reached up to push the sunglasses more firmly onto his nose. Earlier, he’d decided to let Ryan look at his eyes, but now that the time had come, he didn’t want to go through with it. He was permanently blind, and he knew that Ryan couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But there was a part of him that whispered that as long as his condition wasn’t confirmed, there was a chance he’d see again.
Stop being a fool, he mentally chastised himself.
That didn’t stop him from saying, “There’s no need for you to look at my eyes. If you insist on doing something, check the burns on my hand and chest.”
As he spoke, he held out the hand that had been burned on the mountaintop and lifted the triangle with the other one to reveal the burn beneath the object.
“Dammit, Sebastian!” Ryan declared irritably as he grabbed Sebastian’s hand. “Why didn’t you show me these wounds before? They’re infected. How did you get them? No, don’t tell me. Magical lightning, right?”
“You’re starting to catch on, Ryan,” Sebastian drawled facetiously, sliding the triangle along the chain so that it fell behind his shoulder. He didn’t know if it would harm anyone if they touched it, but he wasn’t about to take a chance.
Ryan released Sebastian’s hand and probed at his chest. “These are third-degree burns, and I’m going to have to debride them. But with burns this bad, the nerve endings are deadened, so you probably won’t feel much discomfort.”
“I can handle anything you dish out,” Sebastian said, deciding that at this point he’d welcome physical discomfort to take his mind off everything else. “But before you get started on me, you should check Sarah. She had a burn on the back of one of her hands.”
“When I examined her I didn’t see any burn on her hand.”
“Then check her again. You overlooked it.”
“I wouldn’t overlook something as obvious as a burn,” Ryan responded indignantly.
“You overlooked mine,” Sebastian shot back.
“I hadn’t examined you yet, but if it will satisfy you, I’ll check her hands again.”
Before Sebastian could respond, he heard Ryan stalk away, and he cursed himself for being so combative. He knew he was taking his frustration out on Ryan, which wasn’t fair.
“I was right,” Ryan stated, walking back toward him. “Her hands are fine. There isn’t even a mark to indicate she ever had a burn.”
Sebastian frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. I saw the burn.” But even as he made the statement, he recalled that when he’d compared Sarah’s and his burns in the cave, hers had appeared to be healing while his were getting worse.
“Well, it isn’t there now,” Ryan stated disgruntledly. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll ask Zachary to come in here and confirm it.”
“Of course I believe you,” Sebastian said, apologetic. “But she was burned. Maybe the talisman somehow accelerated her healing process. Or maybe it’s an idiosyncrasy inherent to whatever she is. Remember, she isn’t a mortal.”
“Well, for whatever reason, she’s okay, so I’d better get to work on you.”
“I’m sorry for sounding as if I doubted you, Ryan.”
“Forget it,” Ryan mumbled, and Sebastian listened to what sounded like the rattle of instruments. Then he heard what he guessed was a table roll toward him. A second later, Ryan lifted his hand and placed it on a cold metal surface.
They were silent while Ryan bandaged his hand. When he turned his attention to Sebastian’s chest wound, he said, “With you blind and Lucien disoriented, we’re in serious trouble, aren’t we?”
“Let’s just say that we’d be a hell of a lot better off if you could snap Lucien out of his fog,” Sebastian answered.
“Sorry, but I’m a doctor, not a miracle worker. Isn’t there someone who can take over in Lucien’s stead? Surely the coven has some contingency to handle emergencies if the high priest is incapacitated.”
“They do. The troubleshooter takes over,” Sebastian stated grimly. “Unfortunately, I’m also incapacitated. The only other way is to contact the council for permission to remove Lucien as high priest and temporarily grant his powers to someone else.”
“So why haven’t you contacted the high council?”
“I don’t think the talisman will let me get through. If it did, I might give it a link to them, and that would put them in danger. The only other people who can contact them directly are the narrators.
“I sent Zachary to bring Oran Morovang here so I can ask him to contact them,” he went on. “But what’s happening would be considered a historical event. That means Oran can’t tell the council about the talisman, because he’d be interfering with history in the making. All he can do is request that the council send a new troubleshooter as soon as possible.”
“Well, at least we’ll get some help,” Ryan said.
“Yes, but it will be at least twenty-four hours before a new troubleshooter can arrive, and I don’t think we have that much time,” Sebastian responded grimly.
“Would waking the woman help you?”
“Her name is Sarah, and I’d appreciate you calling her that,” Sebastian replied, not sure why Ryan’s calling her “the woman” irritated him. “And you said she’s probably fallen asleep because she’s facing some trauma she’s not ready to handle emotionally. You’re the doctor, and you have more expertise than I in this area. Do you think waking her would traumatize her further?”
“It’s a risk,” Ryan admitted as he taped a bandage onto Sebastian’s chest. “However, if you think this situation is worth taking the chance, I can inject a stimulant that will wake her.”
“Why would you need to give her a shot? Why can’t we just . . . shake her awake?”
“She’s almost comatose, Sebastian. Unless she’s ready to wake up on her own, rousing her through traditional means will be almost impossible.”
“Would this stimulant be dangerous to her?”
“No drug is completely without risk,” Ryan allowed. “There’s always that one-in-a-million person who will have an adverse reaction. But she appears to be healthy, and I wouldn’t use a large dose. It shouldn’t cause her any ill effects.”
“But Sarah isn’t mortal, and our magic is deadly to her,” Sebastian pointed out. “Knowing that, do you still feel comfortable giving her the shot?”
“I’m talking about pharmacology, not magic, Sebastian, and I’d feel comfortable giving the stimulant to anyone in the coven, including Shana, and she’s pregnant. If it’s safe enough for a pregnant woman, it shouldn’t bother Sarah. Her physiology can’t be that much different from your race or mine, for that matter.”
“But you don’t know that for sure,” Sebastian countered. Despite Ryan’s assurance that he’d give the stimulant to his own pregnant mate, Sebastian was still uncomfortable with the idea.
“No, I don’t know that for sure. I’ll tell you what. You think about it, and while you’re doing that, I’ll look at your eyes,” Ryan said, reaching up and removing Sebastian’s sunglasses.
Sebastian started to object, but Ryan caught his jaw and said, “Hold still and keep your eyes open.” Several seconds passed before Ryan let out a low whistle. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Like what?” Sebastian asked with begrudging curiosity.
“As I said earlier, your eyes are completely white. When I first saw them, I thought they were covered with some kind of growth—something like a cataract. But whatever this is, it isn’t organic.”
Sebastian felt a spark of hope flare inside him. “You’re sure it’s not organic?”
“Positive. It almost resembles a contact lens, but it’s definitely attached to the eye. Do you see anything at all? Even shadings of light and dark?”
“No. Everything is pitch black.”
“Well, you were right,” Ryan said, releasing Sebastian’s chin. “There’s nothing I can do for you.”
“But you have helped me,” Sebastian stated, letting that spark of hope grow a little brighter. “If it isn’t organic, then it’s magical. That means it can be reversed. It’s just a matter of figuring out how to trick the talisman into doing it.”
“Well, that’s your bailiwick. Have you made a decision on the woman?”
“Her name is Sarah,” Sebastian reminded him with a frown.
“Sorry. Sarah,” Ryan said.
Sebastian nodded and then raked a hand through his hair, trying to decide what to do. With Lucien out of commission, he needed Sarah awake. She was the direct link to the talisman, and, hopefully, she could tell him how much time they had before the barrier disintegrated.
But what if she had as bad a reaction to the shot as she’d had to his spell? An injection couldn’t be revoked. Then again, if the talisman thought the shot would hurt her, wouldn’t it cocoon her to protect her, just as it had at the boundary? Or was he giving it too much credit for knowing what was going on? It was, after all, only an object—an ancient object. Did it have any understanding of modern medicine?
Damn! If he just knew exactly who and what Sarah was, he’d know if this was a good idea. But he didn’t know anything about her, and there wasn’t anyone who could tell him.
Except that wasn’t true. There was someone with whom he could confer. The Indian spirit.
“Ryan, take me over to Sarah, and then leave until I call for you,” he stated, standing. He knew that the spirit wouldn’t respond to him if there were an audience.
“Sure,” Ryan said.
When they reached Sarah, Sebastian released his hold on Ryan and sat on the edge of the bed. After Ryan left, Sebastian said, “Spirit, I know you’re here, because you said you’re always with Sarah. Would you speak with me?”
“I would,” the spirit answered.
“Thank you,” Sebastian said, noting the formal response. Realizing the spirit was setting the tone for the interview, Sebastian knew he needed to keep his questions and responses formal if he wanted cooperation.
Keeping that in mind, he said, “I just realized that even though we’ve communicated several times, we haven’t exchanged names. I am Sebastian Moran. Do you have a name you wish to be called?”
“Wanága.”
“Well, Wanága, I have a problem. I need to speak with Sarah, but, as I’m sure you know, she’s asleep and won’t wake up. Can you tell me why she’s sleeping?”
“Sarah sleeps because it is not yet time for you to know the future.”
Sebastian frowned. “Don’t you mean it’s not time for her to know the future?”
“Sarah knows, but she must forget.”
“I see,” Sebastian murmured as a courtesy, while he mulled over Wanága’s words. “So Sarah is asleep because she knows something about my future that I’m not supposed to know yet?”
“Yes.”
“What will happen to Sarah if I wake her?”
“She will not remember.”
“She will not remember my future, or she won’t remember anything, like what happened to her on the mountain?”
“That is up to you.”
The ambiguous response frustrated Sebastian, but he kept his voice even as he replied, “I’m sorry, Wanága, but I don’t understand what that means. Can you explain it in more detail?”
“Why do you wish her to awaken?”
“I told you that already. I need to speak with her.”
“But why do you wish her to awaken?”
Sebastian shook his head, confused. “Again, I’m sorry, Wanága, but I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Look at Sarah and you will understand.”
“But I can’t look at Sarah. I’m blind.”
“It takes more than eyes to see, wicáhmunga.”
“Yes, I suppose it does,” Sebastian stated, although he still didn’t know what the spirit was trying to tell him. He also knew that he wouldn’t get any better explanation, so belaboring the subject wouldn’t get him anywhere.
Instead, he said, “If I ask my friend to give Sarah a shot of medicine to wake her, will the medicine hurt her like my magic does?”
“It will not hurt her like your magic.”
Sebastian frowned, disturbed by the answer. It took him a moment to realize it wasn’t the spirit’s words but his tone that bothered him. “Are you saying that the medicine won’t hurt her like my magic does, but it will hurt her in some way?”
“Again, why do you wish her to awaken? Look at Sarah, wicáhmunga. When you see her, you will understand. Now I must go.”
Sebastian opened his mouth to object, but he closed it when he could no longer sense the spirit’s presence.
“Well, hell,” he grumbled. “I don’t know any more than I did when I started.”
But that wasn’t true. As ambiguous as the spirit had been, he had provided Sebastian with answers. It was just a matter of interpreting them. However, that could take days, and if the talisman wasn’t lying to him, he was dealing with hours.
“So what am I going to do?” he said in frustration.
He didn’t know why he bothered asking the question, because he knew he only had one option. The safety of the coven was at stake, and he had to know just how long they had before disaster befell them. Only Sarah might know that answer, so he had to ask Ryan to give her the shot and hope for the best.
“Ryan?” he called.
“Yes?” Ryan said, coming back into the room.
“Give Sarah the shot.”
While he listened to Ryan moving in the background, he reviewed his conversation with Wanága.
Look at Sarah. It takes more than eyes to see.
Impulsively, Sebastian let his mind travel back over the time he’d spent with Sarah. He saw her standing in moonlight, a snake curled around her arm as she threatened to kill him. But even when he’d escaped her bevy of rattlesnakes and ended up with Willow wrapped around his neck, Sarah hadn’t given the snake the order to kill. From there, his mind flashed to the cave. He could see the proud tilt to her chin as she told him she was the guardian of her people. Her dedication to them was so strong that she’d lifted Willow to her neck to commit suicide so Sebastian couldn’t get her triangle.
Now that he’d opened the dam, a flood of memories washed through him. He saw Sarah lying on the ground, her hand burned from the talisman’s lightning. He remembered her horrified look when he’d informed her she was the talisman’s instrument of destruction. He shivered as he remembered her attempt to escape him, and then he recalled her dying gasps when he’d cast a spell over her. He smiled at the memory of her smile when she’d had amnesia and had the momentary release from her duty. He frowned at the recollection of her look of terror when he trapped her in the meadow, and the lightning wreath cocooning her to draw him into the talisman’s trap.
And then there was their lovemaking. Those images were so provocative that even the memories made him hard.
But it was the tearful tremor in her voice that cut at his heart as he remembered her saying, “When this is over and we’ve defeated the talisman—and I know we’ll defeat it—I want you to promise you’ll help me kill myself.”
When he objected, she’d said, “Before you say no, I want you to understand that I’ll do this with or without your help.” Then she’d added, “All my life I’ve been alone. Please, Sebastian. Don’t abandon me at the end. Don’t make me die alone.”
Finally, he recalled that when he told her the coven would confine her but she’d never want for anything, she’d said that she’d spent the past twenty years training to be the guardian. She’d further stated that she wouldn’t trade that prison for another, that if she couldn’t dream of having a husband and a family, then she didn’t want a life at all.
Witches and warlocks were incapable of tears, but Sebastian would have sworn he felt their hot sting at that moment. Sarah—beautiful, brave, golden-eyed Sarah—had spent her life as a pawn. Her people had used her to be their guardian. Now the talisman used her to reach its evil goal. Even Sebastian used her in his fight to stop the talisman. Everyone took from her, and the only thing she asked for in return was that Sebastian wouldn’t let her die alone.
At that moment, Sebastian knew that he’d just broken the vow he’d made the day he’d become the troubleshooter. He’d sworn that he would never fall in love because his job was too risky. He wasn’t about to leave a witch mourning for him for the rest of her life if he were killed.
Well, he’d kept part of the vow, he admitted ruefully. He hadn’t fallen in love with a witch, but he was falling in love with a woman who was neither witch nor mortal. She was also doomed for all eternity, and no amount of love would ever change that.
“I’m ready to give Sarah the shot,” Ryan suddenly said.
“No! Get out of here until I call for you,” Sebastian rasped, blindly swinging his arm out and starting in surprise when he felt it connect with Ryan.
But the contact wasn’t enough to alleviate his agitation. If anything, it aggravated it, because he suddenly understood Wanága’s ambiguities. He’d been trying to make Sebastian see that he was falling in love with Sarah. He’d also been trying to make Sebastian understand that though he said he wanted her awake to ask her questions, he really wanted her to awaken and reassure him that she was okay.
As soon as he made that admission, he understood what Wanága had meant about the shot. It wouldn’t physically harm Sarah, but it would emotionally, because a shot was impersonal. By having Ryan give it to her, she would think that Sebastian didn’t care about her, only about what she could do for him. She’d feel more alone—more used—and that would give her less reason to want to live. And he had to make her want to live, because no matter how hopeless their future was, he knew he couldn’t face it without her.
But the only way she’d have a reason to live was if he let her know that she was wanted and needed for herself, not for what she could do for him. To give her that reassurance, he had to wake her up with his love.
“Sebastian, I don’t understand what’s wrong,” Ryan said.
“You don’t need to understand. Just get out,” Sebastian snapped. “Now!”
Ryan didn’t answer, but Sebastian listened to the door open and close. Then he leaned forward and let his hands slide across the sheet until he found Sarah’s shoulders.
Gently, he pulled her up into his arms and cradled her against his chest as he hoarsely whispered in her ear, “Wake up for me, Sarah. Please, wake up. Somehow I’ll find a way to fix everything so you can have the happiness you deserve. I promise. Just wake up for me. Please. Wake up. I need you.”
SARAH KNEW SHE dreamed, but it didn’t lessen the fear that coiled inside her. She stood in the center of a long, dark hallway, and she could feel the walls closing in on her. She had to escape before they crushed her, but she couldn’t decide which direction she should go.
She glanced frantically toward one end of the corridor, where she saw an open door through which sunlight streamed. Then she looked toward the other end. That door opened into murky blackness, but she could see a man’s shadowy form standing there waiting for her. Although she couldn’t see the man’s face, his breadth and height assured her it was Sebastian.
Her instincts screamed at her to head for the safety of the light. Her heart, however, begged her to go to Sebastian. Unable to make a decision, she stood there frozen while the walls continued to close in on her.
Fool, John Butler suddenly said. The wicáhmunga stands in darkness. What more proof do you need that he is your enemy? If you go to him, he will destroy you, and you cannot let him destroy you. You are the guardian. You must protect your people.
Wanága says they are not my people. He says I am the last of the Thunderbeings, she said, searching the lighted door for Butler. She knew that’s where his voice came from, but he wasn’t standing there waiting for her. He hid from her, but why?
But you are pregnant, so you are not the last of the Thunderbeings, Butler countered. That alone should prove that everything Wanága has told you is a lie. However, he did not lie about one thing. He is here to help the wicáhmunga destroy you, and when you die, so will your child. Will you do that to your son, Sarah? Will you abandon him to death, just as your mother tried to do to you? Or will you choose to live so that he may live?
Sarah pressed her hand to her abdomen and shivered. She’d looked into her child’s eyes, and she knew he was evil. She also knew he was the talisman’s chosen, that it would use him to carry out its unholy goal of death and destruction until all of mankind was lost.
And among his victims would be the very people she’d spent her life training to protect—the people Leonard had entrusted into her care. If she let her child be born, their blood would be on her hands as surely as if she’d killed them herself. She’d have failed Leonard, the only person who’d ever loved her.
But the only way to stop the talisman was to sacrifice her child, and she knew she couldn’t do that. Good or evil, he was a part of her. He was also a part of Sebastian, and suddenly, she knew that the image of her son—the image the talisman had provided—wasn’t exactly true. Yes, it had chosen her son as its instrument of destruction, and yes, the child had the propensity for evil. But she knew in her heart—in her soul—that Sebastian could save their son from his heinous destiny. Sebastian could make the child good and kind and decent. He could turn him into a protector instead of a destroyer.
That’s why you don’t want Sebastian to know I’m pregnant! she gasped, staring at the lighted doorway. She suddenly understood why Butler hid from her rather than standing there waiting for her. He knew that if she saw him, she’d see through his lies to the truth! Sebastian can change the future, can’t he? He can save our son, and that will destroy the talisman, which in effect, will destroy you, because you have become its personification. It lives because you live, but if you die, it will die.
Fool! John Butler declared again. If you turn to the wicáhmunga, you will die. You will never hold your child in your arms. You will never hear him call you mother. You will end your life as you began it—abandoned and alone!
You’re lying to me! Sarah yelled, suddenly furious that she hadn’t seen the truth all along. I may die, but I won’t be alone. Sebastian will stand by my side to the very end, and he will take our child and raise it as it should be raised. He will teach it right from wrong, just as Leonard taught me. But my son will be stronger than I am, because he won’t be vying for the love of a stranger. He will be secure in the love of his father.
You are not thinking clearly, Butler said, his voice now crooning. Look at the wicáhmunga, Sarah. He exists in darkness, not light, and darkness is the habitat of evil.
Sebastian exists in darkness because you made me blind him, Sarah shot back. He saw the truth from the beginning, and you made me take away his sight so he would doubt himself. You made him blind so he would seem weak to me and I would doubt him. But you underestimated him, because even in darkness, he sees the truth, and I am going to help him defeat you.
She turned her back on the doorway of light and started walking toward the darkness and Sebastian. She knew she made the right decision. Sebastian existed in darkness, but he was the true light.
However, her confrontation with Butler had opened her eyes to a more momentous truth that filled her heart with a mixture of soaring joy and abject terror. Joy, because she knew she was irrevocably in love with Sebastian. Terror, because she understood exactly what the talisman planned. Sebastian was the real threat to its existence, because, as she’d told Butler, he could save their son from his evil destiny. That meant the talisman had to kill Sebastian to stop that from happening. She had to get to Sebastian and warn him!
Go to the wicáhmunga and you condemn yourself! Butler screamed. Your place is here with me. We are the power!
There never was a we, and there never will be! Sarah screamed back as the walls started moving in on her at an accelerated speed. Recognizing her time was running out, she started running toward Sebastian as she added, You are nothing more than a voice for the talisman, John Butler. It has never granted you its powers and it never will, because the power does not belong to you. It belongs to me and my son. You were born a nothing, and you will die a nothing.
You’re wrong! I am the power, and I’ll soon prove that to you. I will kill you, your lover, and your son!
If you believe that, you’re a bigger fool than I could ever be, Sarah rejoined as she neared Sebastian. You can’t kill me, because the talisman won’t let you. It needs me alive so my son can be born. But I will make sure that you and the talisman are destroyed long before that happens.
With that, she launched herself into Sebastian’s arms, and she heard the corridor’s walls slam closed behind her. But the reverberating sound didn’t drown out John Butler’s parting shot.
When you open your eyes, you will remember nothing you have learned here, Sarah. But before this day is over, the wicáhmunga will be dead, and you will be the one to have killed him.