Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [164]
I tried to grapple with him to no avail. As long as the doorway stood open, we were not wholly in the mortal world and he had strength without substance. The cords on Raphael's neck stood out and his chest heaved as he struggled helplessly against the invasion, unable to breathe, his eyes terrified. Focalor's manifestation grew transparent as his essence filled Raphael. I wept in frustration and horror.
Somewhere, a door crashed, mortal and ordinary.
The spirit hesitated, his form growing more opaque.
And then there were panicked voices shouting in D'Angeline, another voice shouting wordlessly, and yet another speaking a foreign tongue in a calm, sonorous tone. A lean figure swept into the chamber like a whirlwind, spinning in circles, twirling a staff so swiftly it was a blur in his hands. Sparks shot from the ends of the staff, bursting with loud cracking sounds like an ember, only louder and brighter.
"Bao!" I cried.
"Stupid girl!" he yelled, driving Focalor toward the center of the star. "Get the stupid man away!"
I yanked Raphael backward. He took a deep, gasping breath and began coughing and retching, bracing his hands on his knees.
Bao's staff had ceased to shoot sparks. Bits of charred string and paper hung from the ends. Focalor eyed him as he spun it, then took a step forward.
And then Master Lo Feng was there, chanting serenely, holding a small, round mirror in his hands. Focalor averted his gaze from the mirror, held at bay.
"Stupid girl!" Bao retreated and cuffed my head. "Close the door!"
I winced. "I can't!"
"Then you die!"
"Bao is correct," Master Lo Feng said calmly. "You opened this doorway, Moirin. Now that the demon-spirit is unbound, only you can close it. If you do not, you will spend your essence and perish, and the spirit will linger, trapped and capable of much mischief."
"She can't." Focalor raised his head and gave me a smile full of malice. "There were great magicians born to your people once, weren't there? No more. What can you do on your own? Play peekaboo in the dusk? Sing to plants?"
I didn't answer.
He laughed. "You're good for nothing by yourself! You're a useful tool for other hands to wield. Save lives? I think not. You couldn't even open this doorway without the aid of a handful of inept scholars." Members of the King's Guard spilled into the chamber, hugging the walls, swords drawn. I wondered what they saw. Focalor sidled closer to me, avoiding Master Lo Feng's mirror. He loomed over me, bending his face close to mine, his spread wings casting me in shadow. A scent like the aftermath of a lightning strike hung in the chamber. "You're the half-breed offspring of a dwindling folk, nothing more."
He was vast.
But I had seen vaster. I had seen the Maghuin Dhonn Herself blotting out the stars. I had felt Her tread shake the earth. She had accepted me as Her own. I was Her child. I clung to that memory, and I felt Her presence embrace me, settling over me like a mantle. I was angry. She, too, was angry at his words. I drew strength from it.
I pointed at the doorway. "And you are nothing more than a god's discarded servant. Go!"
The foundations of the manor house trembled. Thunder rolled and rattled. I breathed the Breath of Earth's Pulse and said it again, pushing with all the strength I had—mine, and poor Claire Fourcay's, and the anger of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself. Go!
It came out as a guttural roar. And he went, Focalor went, retreating and banished. Step by step, he retreated, grimacing with rage. I felt the last of Claire Fourcay's fading life force drain out of me and pushed harder, drawing on my own dwindling reserves. The doorway sucked Focalor into itself, and I closed it with one last tremendous push. Its outline flared and vanished.
Done.
I sighed.
Bao rested one hand on my shoulder. "Not bad, stupid girl."
I leaned wearily against him. "Thank you."
* * *
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
The mood in the chamber was subdued, to say the least. The surviving members of the Circle avoided meeting