“Status reports, everyone, fast as you can. Let’s finish this.”
Fae was grateful to hear her mother’s voice, and even more grateful to hear that everyone else was still holding on. She let the others give their reports first — from the sounds of it, all of them were in more immediate danger than she was. Caleb and Chelsea practically alone against the Lord of Night, Shana emerging into a storm of Nightmares, Delilah and her team facing down Dullan and Jormungand once more, in a Fallen Bastion that had a mind and hunger all its own — they needed Deirdre’s advice and counsel.
And Fae didn’t need outside assistance. Sonya had things well in hand, here, and they’d all confirmed their roles and prepared for the climax of their show.
“We’re all good here, Mom,” Fae said, smiling. Actually smiling, even after Wasuryu had stolen her spotlight, after he’d embarrassed and humiliated her… that all seemed so distant, now. She was confident, filled with confidence from Sonya, Mercury, Jupiter, Neptune, Madeline, and Olivia. “We’ve got a plan and we’re seeing it through. We’ll keep you posted on when we’re ready to turn our Key.”
“Try to be quick,” said Shana, over a wild gust of background noise. “Not sure how much longer we can hold out, here.”
“You got it,” Fae said. She quieted her earpiece, leaving it open only to direct messages to her. She took a deep breath, then reached out. One hand found Madeline’s, the other found Olivia’s.
The curtain rose. Act Two had begun.
Before the curtain was even fully up, a swelling, triumphant melody was rising from the astral orchestra pit. It was the song they’d planned on, the song from the script, the absolute right way to open the second Act and bring this story to its conclusion. Mercury and Neptune took the lead, their voices forging a beautiful two-part harmony.
“Through the Glass” was the song’s title. A promise, the promise of this entire show, of this entire endeavor. They would succeed. They would open the door, turn the Key, and stop the Endless Night.
Better yet, Sonya, Olivia, and Toryu had devised a strategy, predicting when and where Wasuryu would try to interrupt the song, to steal the limelight and ruin their show.
And their prediction came true.
At what seemed like — but was not actually — the highest point, the most important and triumphant moment, of the song, Wasuryu came in, a rumbling in his throat echoing, signaling the first note of his interruption.
And that was as far as he got.
Olivia swooped in, right on cue, matching both lyrics and rhythm as her alabaster scythe, edged in the golden Blade of the Dawn, carved an arc of light through the air. Wasuryu barely evaded it, but the damage was done. Olivia was on the attack, and it was all the wicked Dragon could do to keep from being carved to pieces.
So Mercury and Neptune were able to continue unabated to the true highest point of the song, hand-in-hand, beneath a glittering golden spotlight:
“Through the glass we’ll go
To a place beyond all our dreams
Turn the light
Piercing the deepest night
Reflections shine, showing the way
Through the glass!”
The song ended perfectly, and the rest of them did their parts as well. Fae and Madeline, with a flourish of their Talismans, sent up a dazzling display of magical light, like quiet, uplifting fireworks bursting in time to the song’s crescendo. Jupiter was actually just out of sight, playing away on a drum set along with the astral orchestra. And Olivia gracefully moved from one final warding blow against Wasuryu to a resting, ready stance, letting the attention rest where it belonged — under the spotlight, on the singers, on the song.
And Fae could feel it. The astral audience, gathered to watch — and judge — their performance, was exuberant. It wasn’t just the quality of this performance, it was its placement — right at the open of the Second Act — and the fact that it came after a stunningly disappointing and awkward end to the First Act. It was a total reversal of the best kind, and they’d won over the crowd.
Then the rest of our plan just might pull through. The Second Act won’t be nearly as long as the first. We don’t have time to waste. And more than that…
We’re not waiting around to finish off Wasuryu, once and for all.
Their strategy for the Second Act, their reworkings from the planned and rehearsed script, was a gamble. But it was one they all agreed on, including Toryu, Ciel, and even Core. They were putting it all on the line, but they were confident they could succeed.
It was time to put that confidence to the test.
“A declaration,” came Sonya’s voice as the Narrator. “To see their promise through, the final stage of their quest begins. All rests on the success of this, their battle against the Dark Dragon.”
Wasuryu had vanished, but his voice came in as if on cue, a rumbling, wicked laughter that sent a chill down Fae’s spine. “Battle?” Wasuryu asked. “As if you could call such a lopsided contest a ‘battle.’ What power do you have that can contend against me?”
You might have a point if we were anywhere else. But here on the stage, the odds even out.
Fae felt her sentiment echoed by the others through their bond, with an addition from Mercury: The odds more than event out. They’re in our favor.
Darkness enshrouded the stage, lanterns flickering to life with dark purple flames that established a sinister atmosphere. A wind blew across the stage, rough and chilling — the breath of the wicked Dragon. Sets were being altered, moved, replaced, but Fae could only make out shadows, shapes in the gloom. Olivia came beside her and took her hand, and then Madeline came to her other side and took her other hand. The Star sisters came in close as well, all of them sticking together, bracing themselves for what Wasuryu had in store.
It was Olivia who raised the alarm first. She dashed forward, scythe at the ready… and pulled away from Fae’s hand. But there was something not right, an alarm that shot through Fae, and she held tight to Olivia. Olivia turned back, looked at her, and both of them, despite the bond that twined their hearts, couldn’t quite understand what the other was thinking.
“Don’t,” Fae said in a soft voice. “Don’t go off on your own.”
It was a plea, not a command. One friend to another, asking for trust, even though she couldn’t say why she felt so strongly that Olivia should stay.
Music filled the sudden silence. Not immediately, not boisterously. Just a few notes, a tiny little melody on a piano. In those few notes, there was Fae’s plea. A tiny bit hopeful, a tiny bit frightened.
And then that was torn away. Wasuryu laughed, and the orchestra swelled with a boisterous, vile crescendo, carrying all of the wicked Dragon’s malice and cruelty. A dark wind blasted across the stage. The lamps went out, and the girls stood huddled together beneath a faint silver spotlight, surrounded on all sides by cacophonous, violent darkness.
“Vessel,” Wasuryu purred, and there in the dark, swirling wind Fae could make out his physical form, that grotesque robed reptile. And emerging from him, like a ghostly aura hanging over him, Wasuryu’s astral form, his true form, a massive Draconic face with predatory green eyes, watching all of them hungrily, but most of all…
Fae.
Fae opened her mouth to cry out, but the music and the wind stole her words away. Olivia brandished her scythe, and the Blade of the Dawn gleamed with defiant golden light.
For a moment.
The music reached a horrific crescendo, Wasuryu let loose a vicious roar, and all was plunged into darkness.
Only dimly, did Fae feel the connection to her friends. Only dimly did she feel that she still held onto Olivia’s and Madeline’s hands.
But there was something else. The music had faded, and…
No. Wait. Why was…
Why is my mind all fuzzy? Why can’t I… I can’t seem to…
Fae blinked wearily. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, she knew that. She should be acting, should be moving, should be saying something, but…
It was such a monumental effort.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The only sounds in the darkness. Faint, but when Fae noticed and listened for it, it grew more distinct. Water, dripping steadily, one drop at a time.
No. Not water. It was…
Fae winced. There was a numbness to her body, but along her arm, there was a slight prick, a stinging sharpness piercing through the numb, aching cold. She shivered, and blinked wearily, her eyes fluttering open.
When had they been closed?
She was…
Not on the stage. Was she? This was…
No. No, I can’t… I can’t be… here…
Slowly, with a monumental effort, she turned her head to the right. There, her arm held out straight, clamped in metal restraints, and pierced in multiple points by tubes. Tubes, transparent tubes, so that she could see the glowing green liquid flowing through them.
Flowing into her.
No. No… no, this, this was so long ago, Madeline saved me, I — !
“Who saved you?”
The voice came out of the silence, out through the void, into her mind. The voice of the Dragon. The voice of the one who desired her body as his own.
Fae flinched, struggled for a moment against her bonds. But a sharp, lancing pain shot through her whole body. She gasped, noiselessly, her breath stolen away, and then went still.
She was back here, in the depths of the Silver Star Sanctuary, in that vile trap that Wasuryu had made for her. Back being prepared as his Vessel.
This can’t be… real…
“Only what is here is real. All else is a lie. Did you really think I would ever let you go? Did you really think your friends had the strength to force me to let you go?”
I… I never…
“That’s right.” There was a smile in that wicked voice, a satisfaction that made Fae’s heart tighten with fear.
I never… left…?
But that was… that couldn’t be. It couldn’t! She’d been through so much, and of course Madeline had saved her, of course she’d gone to the Orphan of the Dawn, of course she’d —
“Abandon all hope, Vessel. Embrace your fate, abandon your self, and be mine.”
No… No, I… I can’t. I can’t!
“Fae!”
There, in the distance, a voice. Not into her mind. A real voice, so real she could touch it, if only she could find the strength to reach for it.
A voice that had saved her many times before. A voice that rang out with crystal clarity, that never let her down.
“Fae! Don’t listen to him!”
Fae strained against her bonds. She fought the pain, raised her head, opened her eyes. She swallowed once, her throat so dry, but she found her voice.
“Mercury!” she cried. “I’m right here!”
“And I’m right here,” said Mercury. And she was, right there, her hand holding Fae’s. And then Fae was loosed from her bonds, held in a tight embrace by Mercury, warm and kind and full of light.
And not just Mercury. Jupiter, and Neptune. Madeline, and Olivia, and Sonya.
“We’re not losing to his lies,” Mercury said.
“Never,” Fae said. She found her strength, stood tall, and looked with her friends down the dark corridor. At its end…
The wicked Dragon.
His grotesque face twisted in a sneer. “Think this is over if you wish,” he snarled. And then he opened his mouth wide, and the ghostly face of his true form appeared and did the same. A vicious roar let loose…
And all was plunged once more into shadow and silence.
A moment later, Fae found herself. And she was relieved to see, and to feel, that all of her friends were still with her. They weren’t back in the Silver Star Sanctuary.
Now they were in a chamber only Fae, Olivia, and Sonya had ever seen.
Floor, walls, and ceiling were mosaic, used to form images — echoes — of truth. This was one of the last Echoes of Truth Fae, Olivia, and Sonya had entered.
And it was by far the worst.
On the floor, the mosaic showed thousands, tens of thousands, of people prostrating themselves. Some knelt, hands held high, necks craned back, faces transfixed in expressions of wild ecstasy. Others hid their faces, filled with a terror that held their hearts fast to this place, to this purpose.
To worship.
Worship not of a god, and certainly not of any benevolent being, no.
On the ceiling was a mosaic of Wasuryu himself. The Dragon, in all his serpentine, majestic glory.
“I am worshiped, adored, feared,” came Wasuryu’s voice, full of arrogant command. “My people are now me. I am many, you are few. What power have you before me?”
Fae, Oliva, and Sonya opened their mouths to speak. But their voices wouldn’t come out. Their words were caught in their throats, all sound stolen from them.
Wasuryu chuckled. “You see? I have power over all that I have touched. The Sealed Vessel, ruled by a shard of my soul. The Broken Vessel, unable to hold my power. The True Vessel, transformed and waiting for me to arrive. You have all been shaped by my will. You are mine to command, mine to hold, mine to do with as I wish.”
There was a brief breath, the preparation of someone to speak. But the expected words never came. A knot of dread wormed its way into Fae’s stomach, and she turned, only to find…
She, Olivia, and Sonya were suddenly alone. The Star sisters and Madeline had vanished.
Wasuryu laughed. “Weaklings, lost against the might of a Dragon! And now, at last, you three are here, where you belong. With me.”
Fae tasted something sickening in her mouth, felt a burning in her throat, and willed herself to swallow it back. She wouldn’t be made to be sick before Wasuryu. She wouldn’t be ruled by him.
But…
But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. What could she possibly do against such power? What had he done, how had he taken such command of the stage, of the show, of all that they’d prepared, all that they’d fought so hard for?
How had he swooped in and ruined it just like that? How could she be so utterly helpless, when her sisters were relying on her?
Beside her, Olivia and Sonya were just as trapped as she was. She could still feel them through the bond, but…
Oh. No, no, no!
She could feel something else. Something horribly, horrifically, other. An intruder, an invader, a horrible presence that didn’t belong in this bond, didn’t belong in this deepest, most vulnerable place of their hearts.
Wasuryu was here. In their very souls.
“You see?” he asked, right into their minds. “I am always with you. You were foolish to think you could ever escape me. You have always belonged to me. And you always will.”
Fae could feel his presence, cold and sickening, coiling its serpentine way around her very heart. This was it. This was the end, this was the moment when it all failed. All that they’d tried to do, all that they’d forged and practiced with their bond to keep Fae’s soul safe…
It crumbled so easily.
Fae!
Fae!
Voices, calling her name. So distant, so faint.
But they were there.
Fae shook her head, flinched, shuddered. She found movement, she found the slightest control of herself. Wasuryu fought back, and he was strong. Too strong. Fae couldn’t hold on, she couldn’t keep this charge of her body on her own…
But she wasn’t alone.
Olivia and Sonya fought with her. Through the bond, their hearts gripped the Dragon, the hands of their souls pulled at him, loosened his grip on her heart.
And there were others coming. Others reaching, others straining to join the fight, to ensure that Fae wasn’t taken, wasn’t transformed, wasn’t made a vessel for a wicked Dragon.
And Fae was reminded, once again.
I really have made the most amazing friends.
In the midst of their struggle, Wasuryu started to roar, that commanding roar that had taken over the stage again and again. But his roar cut off, a sudden silence sweeping it away, and into that silence…
A few small notes. A tiny, slightly hopeful, slightly frightened, melody.
Fae’s plea, in musical form.
Fae opened her mouth, but words still wouldn’t come out. She couldn’t speak. The fight still raged, desperate against her heart, a silent struggle between an impossibly powerful Dragon and seven human girls.
But… it wasn’t the fight that kept Fae from using her voice. She couldn’t speak, because this wasn’t the time to speak.
She realized, with a new kind of fear, and a strange sort of wonder…
It was time for her to sing.
But how could she sing? This wasn’t a song they’d rehearsed, this wasn’t one of the songs they’d written, practiced, revised, and worked on some more. This wasn’t a melody she’d ever heard before. How could she sing to it? She wasn’t a singer, it had taken so much work and training and courage just to learn her few lines for the few songs that she was supposed to sing during their show. Wasuryu had already stolen one of those from her, but she’d had hope for the Second Act, and now…
But her fears didn’t last long. She hadn’t ever heard this melody before, no. Not really, not in the world, not like this, but…
She realized that, deep down, she’d known this melody her whole life. She’d just never noticed it before.
It was the kind of song you didn’t even realize was there, the kind of song that lives inside of you and then, one day, when you need it most, rises up to the challenge.
It was a song from her heart.
Here, in the darkest of moments, it came bubbling up. Not with joyful exuberance, or proud, unabashed enthusiasm. It was quiet, and simple, with bits of hope and fear intermingled. It didn’t come bursting in, because it couldn’t. Fae couldn’t. That just wasn’t her.
It was a Fae song. Present, but waiting for the right moment, and even at the right moment somewhat hesitant, somewhat uncertain. The spotlight wasn’t something Fae desired, and was often something she recoiled from.
But there were times when she’d had to step up. Times when she’d shown just what she was made of, and this journey, this long, painful quest, had shown her who she really was.
She never could have heard this song before now. And as the piano continued, and extended, this simple, melodic overture, Fae could hear her whole journey wrapped up in it. She could hear and feel the influences that had shaped her. Not Wasuryu, no.
She heard Mercury. Her laughter, and her smile, that smile that had saved her on the Nightmare Road.
She heard Jupiter, the understated maturity of Jupiter that she’d never thought possible until they’d gone to Renault a second time, and Jupiter had sought out a magitech solution to Fae’s condition.
She heard Neptune, her deep, quiet strength of spirit, the harmonic anchor that held together the chaos of her sisters, and had so often helped anchor Fae throughout the journey.
She heard Madeline, her best friend since childhood. All the adventures they’d been on, all the creations they’d made together, and more than that, the journey that Madeline had undertaken all alone, all to find Fae.
She heard Olivia. The one who’d taken her captive to Wasuryu, and the one Fae had rescued from Wasuryu. The Olivia who had clung to her, holding tight to the one good thing she’d ever known since becoming the Sealed Vessel, and the Olivia who had come back into her own, recovered her warrior’s spirit, and stood up for the sake of their group, the beacon who had helped all of them to find their way through the storm of the seven-part bond.
She heard Sonya, inquisitive and often enigmatic Sonya. The writer, the one who kept so much of her thoughts to herself, a quality Fae could well relate to. And yet there was that depth of emotion, that Wellspring within her, the potential for intense volatility that frightened her for so long, and only now became a strength rather than a danger.
She heard the true influences of her life. The ones who had truly shaped her. Not the Dragon, but her friends — and her family. She heard little bits of Delilah, of Shana, of Deirdre, even of Shias and Caleb and Callum. She heard bits of Selphine, and Gerick, and Maxwell. Of Kairyu, and Toryu. Of the Orphan of the Dawn.
No, it wasn’t Wasuryu who had shaped her, or Wasuryu who owned her. She was her own, known and loved, made whole by those who knew and loved her, who helped her walk this long, arduous road.
So it wasn’t hard, when she heard all of that, to find the words, and start to sing along to the simple melody that was hers:
“Please don’t go, don’t wander on your own again
Don’t let them go, the ones who love you
They’ll hold tight, and carry you when you can’t stand
You’re not alone
You’ll never be alone”
Piece by piece, tiny painted stone by tiny painted stone, the mosaic in the room rearranged itself. The stones shifted around each other, impossible lanes forming in time to the music. No more worshipers of the wicked Dragon. No more upholding the majesty of a horrific villain.
When Fae finished singing, the piano continued to play. The song wasn’t over yet. And Fae watched as the pieces resolved themselves, forming new images in floor, walls, and ceiling.
The mosaic of the Dragon’s city and his worshipers was replaced now by seven girls, hand-in-hand, on a familiar hilltop. Beneath a golden tree, aglow with the golden light of the sky, there they stood at the Orphan of the Dawn.
And it all came rushing back to Fae — to all seven of them, all of them through the bond were filled with the same beautiful memories. The safety, the sanctity of that place, of the Orphan of the Dawn herself, flooded through them. And it wasn’t just safety, but strength. Strength of heart, strength of will — they’d been empowered by the Orphan of the Dawn, sent out from her bounds with her light still aglow within them.
What hope did Wasuryu have against that? All alone, consuming all that he could for his own sake, he had power, but that power was nothing here, not now.
There was precious little that could stand against seven hearts united as one.
A bright light shone and the chamber fell away, placing the girls back on the stage. And all around, they feel the astral audience’s approval, excitement, and awe. They were completely on Fae’s side, completely against Wasuryu.
It was the perfect time to bring it all to a triumphant close.
Sonya had taken the stage, so she stepped forward, towards the flinching, recoiling, diminished Wasuryu. “You were the author of so much pain,” she said. “And I nearly let that pain rule me. No longer.” She raised her hand, and the scarlet Wellspring aura flickered to life at her fingertips. “This is my power. And it’s what’s going to finally put an end to your wicked reign.”
The music shifted, adding in the full orchestra. Fae’s song remained there, but joined now by the songs of her fellow performers, mingling into a confident, soaring swell. This was it, and even Wasuryu knew it. He pushed himself to his feet, his physical form already starting to fall apart. His eyes glinted with rage, and he opened his mouth to roar, but that roar was stolen away by the sweeping melody.
“At the last, you’re revealed as you really are,” Mercury said, stepping forward with a confident smile, accompanied by a soaring electric guitar riff. “Wretched, pathetic, and alone.”
“There’s nothing left for you!” Jupiter said, joining Mercury beside Sonya, accompanied by a frenetic drum roll. “You’re finished.”
“And no one will mourn your passing,” Neptune said, accompanied by a soulful phrase on the piano. “No more souls will be stolen away by your endless hunger.”
“You’ve tormented my best friend for the last time,” Madeline said, stepping forward, accompanied by an introspective clarinet solo.
“Free now and forever from the Dragon’s hold,” Olivia said, brandishing her scythe, accompanied by a deep, hopeful viola piece.
And Fae stepped forward, completing the arrangement, her own melody rising above the rest for a moment. She stood to Sonya’s left, Olivia to Sonya’s right, placing Sonya right in the middle of them all. As she should be.
This was her moment. But the most important thing was that she didn’t have her moment alone.
We’re with you.
All six voices, speaking as one, straight to Sonya’s heart. And Fae felt the confidence in Sonya, felt the last few walls falling away, her fears gone, holding nothing back from the rest of them.
Together, at the climax of the song, seven voices sang as one, bringing forth the triumphant refrain in perfect, seven-part harmony:
“Seven hearts as one, united to rise
Through the darkest of nights
Shines an unending light
Cast away all fears
You’re never alone
I’ll hold onto you ‘til the end!”
Sonya stretched her hand forward, the swell of the music bringing all to completion. Fae and Olivia reached out, placing their hands on her shoulders. Madeline and Mercury placed their hands on Fae’s shoulders, and Jupiter and Neptune placed their hands on Olivia’s. All of them, together, for one final act to end the wicked Dragon once and for all.
And Sonya let loose Wellspring. Scarlet energy ripped forward, not a chaotic explosion like at the Hall of Reflections, but a focused, intense blast, entirely in tune with its one, perfect aim:
To destroy Wasuryu, body, mind, and soul.
Wasuryu was able to stand, able to let out one last, desperate scream…
And then Wellspring ripped through him.
The fragile body that Wasuryu had worked so hard to cultivate disintegrated almost instantly. But Wellspring wasn’t done. All around the epicenter of the blast, a ghostly figure began to swirl, taking shape in a spiraling vortex.
Wasuryu. His true form, his astral form, his very soul. He was caught in the vortex, sucked into the blast. For one fleeting moment, Fae caught a glimpse of Wasuryu’s true face, reptilian eyes wide with terror, jaws open wide in an anguished scream.
And then he was gone. Wasuryu’s soul was ripped apart, melted down, and indisputably annihilated.
The scarlet blast burst in a shower of sparks, a brilliant firework just in time with the final, triumphant note of the show’s final song. And in that moment, as the girls turned to face out at the audience, Fae, Olivia, and Sonya all let out a single, startled gasp.
They could feel it. Deep in their souls, in a place they’d forgotten about, or learned to ignore, Wasuryu had still had a hold on them.
But no more. That hold was gone, and they felt free, freer than they’d ever believed they could be. It was finally, truly over. No more living under the shadow and threat of Wasuryu.
Free, now and forever, from the Dragon’s hold.
As the astral audience made their unanimous approval known, the girls turned away from the crowd, gazing across the brightly lit stage. There, one of the mirrors rippled, shone with light, and then transformed into an open doorway.
The path through the glass was open. The Key of the World awaited.