All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [276]
Fiona had nothing but an armful of ashes. She tried to hold them; they blew away. When she looked up, her vision blurry with tears, she saw Robert standing near.
Louis sauntered up, and his smile faded as he beheld Fiona and her blackened hands.
Eliot ran up to her as well—stopped short, seeing the sword and the ashes—having no clue what had happened, but able to read Fiona’s pain.
And finally Sealiah and a retinue of knights approached. Where she stepped the soil churned with worms and roots and covered with flowering moss. She nodded at each of them, practically glowing with pleasure, and looking more regal and lovely than ever.
“The war is over,” the Queen of Poppies announced. “The House of Umbra has fallen. We are victorious.”
Fiona glared at them all—hating them more than she had anything, most of all Robert. She wanted to get up and cut them to pieces. The rage built within her until all she saw were red pulses.
But she held back.
Fighting without thinking—what had it cost her in blood and pain and the people she’d loved? That’s how she’d gotten here in the first place. She vowed she wouldn’t repeat that mistake.
It’d take time, but she had to consider what this meant to her. She wasn’t sure what exactly she had to do first . . . but Fiona knew with all her heart and soul that her war with the Infernals had just begun.
67. The first printed Faust legend is Historia von D. Johann Fausten (1587) written by an anonymous German author. The publisher Johann Spies (1540–1623), however, claimed the chapbook was culled from the journal of the original Dr. Faustus. He explains that Faustus ritualistically invited the Devil to reside within him, so that the Devil could share mortal experiences (such as love), while he would gain Infernal knowledge. In a note scribbled on his first draft—Christopher Marlowe (1564–1593), author of the English The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus, claimed to have used the same ritual. Marlowe was reputedly an atheist, and while awaiting trial for heresy, Marlowe died. Numerous accounts say that he was killed in a drunken brawl, assassinated, while some claim that he stepped into a shadow and was never seen again. Marlowe was buried in an unmarked grave at St. Nicholas, Deptford, so this later assertion cannot be disproved. The Journal of Dr. Faustus resides in the Beezle Collection, part of the Taylor Institution Library Rare Book collection, Oxford University, and may be viewed only by special permission from the Stephenson Family Trust. Golden’s Guide to Extraordinary Books, Victor Golden, 1958, Oxford.
81
INFERNAL LORD
By the time Eliot pushed and shoved his way past Sealiah’s knights, all he saw was Fiona. Mephistopheles was gone.
Sealiah, Robert, Mr. Welmann, and even Louis were all there, staring at his sister.
Fire burned in Fiona’s lap. The coals disintegrated to ash even has Eliot watched. The heat didn’t seem to hurt Fiona or even scorch the shreds of her school skirt.
Eliot was about to ask her what had happened—but shut his mouth as his eyes met hers. They were red from crying and full of pain . . . and utter contempt for all of them.
Across the battlefield shadows dissolved and vanished; patchwork soldiers either fell apart, or they came to their senses and rejoined Sealiah’s army.
The war was over.
Eliot wanted to shout in triumph, but his elation died as he glanced at Robert, who looked like he’d been hurt, covered in blood . . . but more than that, hurt on the inside. Mr. Welmann held him back from Fiona.
Eliot couldn’t stand it. “Fiona,” he whispered. “What happened?”
The fire in her lap guttered and went out. Fiona examined her ash-covered hands. She finally looked up at Eliot. He’d never seen her in such agony.
“It was Mitch,” she said.
She had to be dazed. Eliot shook his head. “That’s not possible. It was Mephistopheles.”
In hushed tones, she explained exactly how it was possible. How Mephistopheles approached Mitch, the distant progeny of Dr. Faustus—how Mitch had let him in—how Mephistopheles purposely