The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 125: Attack of Light

Chapter 125: Attacks of Light

Shadwell held his station.

The old witchfinder's gnarled fingers ran across the timing mechanism. On Newt's phone he watched the array work the lights in a flickering pattern so complex it had to be a mathematical equation. It was. Newt got it from St John. A thing that had saved his own life once, long ago. A flash bang against mirror magic. Good, for distraction. Not for protection.

Shadwell watched as the phone went dark: the link to the timers went out. And the chaos downstairs stopped. The older man paused, froze. Breathlessly he sat, his eyes darting back and forth across the room. And then, something bumped against the stairs.

He rose his finger, and shakily took aim.

But when he heard familiar voices, he lowered his "weapon", and he waited. Footsteps marched up the stairs, and the door creaked open.

Anathema was the first to emerge. Her hair was in complete disarray. She was being held up by Newt.

When she got to the living room, she regarded her cupped hand. In a daze she opened it, and poured out a pile of sand.

"Well," Newt whispered. "There went the doll."

The circle broke, and Crowley fell.

And now he was wasting away.

Newt had made tea. He tried to put the cup into Anathema's shaking hands, but it rattled so much he had to put it to her lips. Her whole body quaked, exertion and shock overtaking her. Shadwell in a surprisingly gentle move draped a coverlet over her and moved her to the fire. Her trembling terrified him.

"Cor, lassie! What happened?"

"So fast. She struck....so fast!" the little witch whispered, staring into the fire. Shadwell looked worriedly at the open door.

"They're fine, Shadwell," Newt told him in a soft monotone. "Mostly...Aziraphale...but your lights worked."

"Good to know all those years fiddling with electrical wires and security systems paid off," he answered in a hushed voice. "What is happening?"

"Samantha broke thru. Luckily, your light display confused her magic enough for Anathema to counterattack through the circle. But," he touched his wife's shaky knee," It took a lot out of her."

"And...Crowley?"

Newt's mouth fell open, and he turned to the fire. "Alive. But back to square one."

Shadwell leaned back, aghast. "No! Not after all that."

Newt nodded silently.

"What now?"

The little witch drew a ragged sigh, and forced her body to remain still. But her muscles, and face, were locked with obvious effort. "Clean up."

"The ladies are assessing the damage. Resetting the circle as best they can."

"Will it work? With one less trinket?"

The witch shook her head. "You don't understand. She made threats. She knows where we are. She knows we can identify her. Right now the circle protects Crowley, but later." She turned to him, and her eyes shone. "It'll be for us."