Words of Power (Alice Gray Book 3)

58

The floor was slick with angel blood from the battle that raged around the tree overhead. The bogeymen were labouring hard, dull workhorses without a spark of autonomy to let them overcome the obstacles before them.

It was like watching some old-fashioned slapstick routine. Large, cumbersome bodies, lumbering around, trying to stay on their feet while they crossed paths and bumped into each other. Slipping and sliding on the layer of blood that coated everything, as they lugged the mesmerised crowd down to the Crypt below the Quire.

But this was never going to be funny. They were slipping on blood, while they dragged off my friends to be cut up and put back together all wrong.

I glanced up at the dizzying whirl of colours above. The angels' movements merged into a cloud of energy that rained down their blood, a never-ending storm of fury and violence.

The hazy outline of the Tree of Knowledge still pulsed with the residual particles of my silver energy. My magic was taken up with the current crisis, and without my silver life-force feeding it, the alternate reality, where the Tree of Knowledge really existed, had stopped forcing its way through.

At least one thing was working in my favour. I really didn't want to deal with the Garden of Eden pushing its way into York Minster. I mean, who knew what was possible now the Eye had blinked.

Could mortals and angels exist in the same reality?

Judging by the reactions of every person at this trial save me, it looked increasingly unlikely.

Sweeping the room, I took in Thomas balanced precariously on the pulpit ledge, watching the wolves circle below. He was never going to be able to take care of all the rabid animals that were coming for us.

I couldn't fight with him, I'd just get in his way, and even though I'd send everything that I could through our connection, I still felt helpless to save my pack.

A spark of anger fizzled at my core.

I wasn't helpless.

The Tree of Knowledge had taught me that a month ago, and if there was ever a time to embrace its darkness, that time was now.

A tiny niggle of a doubt crawled around in my brain. If I let the power loose, would I be able to draw it back. Would the people here fall under my thrall instead of the angels' glory?

I squashed that worm of worry under my metaphorical boot. It didn't matter. They'd be safer with me than with Brother Jerome.

If he got his hands on them, they'd just be more slack-faced jowly men-poppets, or parts of them would be. That wasn't going to happen.

Not on my watch.

The weight of the energy welling in my organs made me feel ripe on the inside. The particles continued to multiply, filling every cell of my organism. There was always a moment when I thought I might burst.

But I didn't. Not yet. The fullness built and built and built, the song of the silver leaves spurring my silver magic on to impossible volumes. I thought of the words to the White Paternoster. The words of power that my family and all witches had used for generations to lay curses or to break them. Only something so old could help me control my unwieldy magic, could help me focus it in a way that could help my friends.

The moment that my body became too small and insignificant to hold the might of the silver magic, I braced myself. Would it finally rip me apart now that the Eye had opened and the realities had merged? Could the silver energy exist independently?

Too late for those questions now.

It started in a whisper, those same words over and over:

Open, open heaven door keys,

Shut, shut hell door.

My voice rose along with the chaotic symphony of the Tree of Knowledge. The leaves sang as the angels swooped and clashed around it.

LET CHRISTENED CHILD

GO TO ITS MOTHER MILD.

Before I knew it I was shouting the song. My words twisted into screams that were pulled out of me along with the silver power that my skin couldn't hold together any longer.

WHAT IS YONDER THAT CASTS A LIGHT SO FARRANDLY?

MINE OWN DEAR SON THAT'S NAILED TO THE TREE.

A flash of the brightest silver blinded me just a second before the most unbearable searing pain burnt through my arteries, shooting into every cell of my organism. As the blood travelled through my veins back to my heart, I had the tiniest moment of clarity.

The magic was finally going to pull me apart.

The words to the White Paternoster were lost in a scream that itself disintegrated along with my physical body.

Is this the end for Alice...