Delilah let Alice and Maribelle take the lead, forcing Dullan and the puppet-Jormungand back to give the rest of the group room to enter the chamber.
It was particularly unsettling, seeing Jormungand’s corpse, with Alice’s sword wound still fresh, fighting against them. Even more unsettling was that he didn’t speak. He was nothing but a puppet of the Fallen Bastion now, a Darkness-infused doll fighting back against Alice with all of Jormungand’s powers.
“Nekoma, Reginald, stay on defense,” Delilah said, stepping onto a Mobility disc. “Terevalde, Emmeryn, stay close to them. Felix, Redmond, go on the offensive!”
“Dullan is mine!” Maribelle said, Takina flashing with brilliant fury. “Make sure everything else is settled before you think about helping me!”
“Really missing Chelsea right about now,” Alice said, flipping away from a scything slash from Jormungand. “It’d be a lot easier to just incinerate his body and be done with it. How do we stop him now?”
That question was punctuated by a pulverizing punch from Rabanastre, right to Jormungand’s face. Jormungand was sent flying with bone-crunching force, smashing through a column and then skidding across the floor to a sharp stop against the wall.
And he got back up again immediately. Nose broken, left eye socket bruised and swollen so much the eye couldn’t be seen, and head tilting at an awkward angle that implied more serious damage to the spinal column…
And yet the puppet-Jormungand strolled back into the battle with a casual air, as if nothing untoward had befallen him.
Delilah had a few ideas. But she didn’t want to voice them, because they made her sick. It was one thing to kill a villain like him quickly, cleanly, like Alice had done. But going up against his reanimated corpse, there were only so many options without Chelsea around. All of them involved crude, vicious violence.
Isn’t there a better way? Think, think outside the box. Oh!
Forget the body! That body’s just being controlled. If we can sever the connection somehow, then he’s just a corpse again. Cut the puppet’s strings. That’s what we need to do.
“Marcus,” Delilah said, floating down towards Marcus while Felix and Redmond joined Alice and Rabanastre in the fight against Jormungand. “There has to be some kind of connection or core of control for Jormungand’s body, right? Is there any way to detect it?”
“You don’t need to seek it out,” Marcus said, a grim look in his eyes. “The heart is how the body is controlled. Destroy the heart, and his body is useless to the Darkness.”
“Destroy…?” Delilah started, fighting sickening thoughts and visions that shot through her mind.
“It needn’t be so gruesome,” Marcus said, noticing her expression. “Flood the heart with light. That gives the heart back up to the light. It leaves this world, effectively destroyed, and out of reach of the Darkness.”
Flood it with light…
Delilah looked back at Jormungand. She waited for a lull in the fight, for a proper look at the reanimated corpse. It came, and she saw Alice’s sword thrust, saw how it hadn’t healed or closed.
And she had an idea.
“Thank you!” she said, flying towards Alice’s battle. Jormungand was melding with shadowy darkness, summoning all sorts of ghostly weapons to slash, stab, and pummel his assailants. No attack found its mark, thankfully — Alice, Rabanastre, and the two Felines were too nimble for that — but he was doing an excellent job of keeping them at bay, and keeping them from landing another solid hit like Rabanastre had.
“Alice!” Delilah said, coming alongside Alice. While the Summons kept up the fight, Alice paused, all ears for Delilah. “We need to flood his heart with light. We need to be able to get close enough to him, and for him to keep still long enough for us to get an accurate strike into the opening you made with your sword.”
Alice looked back at Jormungand for a moment, then nodded. “I gotcha,” she said. “Okay. Rabanastre! Get that guy pinned, as fast as you can!”
“Felix, Redmond, lock him down!” Delilah added. “We need to keep him from moving around!”
The Summons shifted tactics. Rabanastre and Felix brought on a pincer strike, each of them attacking Jormungand from opposite sides, looking to restrict his movements and stay on top of him, blocking his attacks rather than evading. While they did that, Redmond opened fire — not at Jormungand, but at the floor and ceiling around him. Each arrow laid a trap, a clever trap, a nearly invisible trap until sprung.
And while the Summons fought, Delilah and Alice grasped hands, reaching out for the special bond they shared. A warmth blossomed in Delilah’s heart, and then hers and Alice’s bracelets shone with white light. Light stretched from one to the other, and when they met, that light turned into a white flame linking the girls together.
“Lock him down, guys!” Alice called. Yet for the urgency of her command, her white eyes were shining, and she wore an excited grin. Delilah matched that grin, excitement flooding through her. She felt like she was back in Revue Palace, back during the finale of their show against the Sons of Night, singing that fantastic final song and fulfilling her promise to Revue. There was no fear here now.
And there was no way Alice’s victory was going to be undercut a moment longer. There was no way this lifeless body was going to be commanded by the Darkness a moment longer.
Rabanastre punched, Felix thrust with his swords, and Jormungand was caught between them. Rabanastre grabbed, Felix twisted, and Jormungand was thrown aside — right into the path of Redmond’s traps. Glowing green whips shot out from the floor and the ceiling, lashing the puppet-corpse’s arms and legs tight, holding them in place.
Jormungand was pinned, for the moment. And a moment was all the girls needed.
Delilah leapt off from her disc, and she and Alice raced forward. When they were nearly to Jormungand, they stretched their braceleted hands towards him, palms wide open, and white fire leapt from their bracelets to their hands, and then from their hands…
To Jormungand.
The fire spun into a narrow, intensely focused line that perfectly darted into the wound from Alice’s sword. The corpse shuddered, and shook, and then bright white light shone from his wound, so bright that Delilah and Alice had to cover their eyes.
When the light faded, and they looked…
Jormungand’s body was limp. Finally, completely, defeated. When Redmond’s traps let it go, the body fell to the floor, and never moved again.
“Through with you,” Alice said, giving the lifeless corpse a kick in the head. She turned towards Maribelle and Dullan, locked in furious, frenetic combat. “Hey, Mari! You ready for some help?”
“If you must!” Maribelle said. She pivoted away from a slash from Dullan’s scythe, and then launched a blindingly fast series of thrusts. Several found their mark, and Dullan gasped in pain as he retreated, getting his scythe up to block the next several attacks. But it wasn’t as one-sided as that. Dullan still had plenty of fight in him, and though he clearly feared Maribelle, he was still a potent match for her. Double her height and more than double her size in sheer bodily mass, he had power and reach on his side. Every time he slashed with his scythe, Maribelle was forced to block or retreat — and when she blocked, she was still pushed back, skidding across the floor several feet from the force of impact.
“Are you guys okay?” Delilah asked Marcus as she and Alice, with their Summons raced past to help Maribelle.
“We’ll be all right,” Marcus said, and Isabelle added a bouncy nod to that. “But keep your eyes open.” Marcus glanced at the ceiling, a wary look in his eyes. “Dullan is not our only enemy.”
“Let’s hope the Bastion takes a nice, long, nap,” Alice said.
But Delilah knew it wasn’t just the Fallen Bastion they had to be wary of. There were four others who had yet to make an appearance. And they could swiftly upset the balance of this conflict.
There were the Furies, who Dullan had claimed were finally complete.
And there was the Lingering Will.
There was no way either party would miss this final clash. Dullan wouldn’t have come here and bragged about his Furies, yet not brought them. And the Lingering Will always knew where Delilah was, always pursued her, and must know by now just how close she was to turning the Key of the World. That was the absence that unnerved Delilah the most. If the Lingering Will hadn’t shown up yet, hadn’t attacked yet…
Then where was it? Or… what was it waiting for?
As they raced to join Maribelle’s fight, a crackling in Delilah’s earpiece comm gave her pause. And then, a voice broke through, lifting her spirits.
It was her mother.
“Caleb? Fae? Shana? Shias? Delilah? Do you read me? Am I coming in clearly, or —”
“Mom?” Fae asked.
“Mom!” Shana said.
“Mom, I hear you loud and clear!” Delilah said, finding her voice.
“I hear you, Mom,” Caleb said. “And everyone else.”
“All right, everyone,” Deirdre said. “Status reports, fast as you can. Let’s finish this.”
“We got hit hard,” Caleb said, and Delilah’s heart sank. “The whole team’s down, except for Chelsea, Grandpa, the Healers, and me. Sal’s distracted, conflicted, but we can’t count on it lasting long.”
“And I’m sure your sisters aren’t ready to turn the Key?” Deirdre asked.
“Not yet,” Fae said.
“We’re close!” Shana said.
“We… still have to find the Pedestal,” Delilah said. “But we must be close. As soon as we get some breathing room, we’ll find it, I’m sure!”
She was reassured by the others, and then Deirdre started brainstorming how to buy the girls enough time in the fight against Sal with Caleb, Chelsea, and Oscar.
And while they did that, Delilah talked to someone else. “Tock, can you see us?” she asked. “Are we close to the Pedestal?”
“We… can’t see any of you anymore,” Tock said. “I’m sorry. We were able to get past the audio interference, but not visual.”
“Okay, then…” Delilah trailed off, not sure what to say, or what to do. How could she find the Pedestal now? They didn’t have time!
“Trust the Key,” Marcus said. “I’m sure, when we are close enough, it will let you know.”
“You think so?” Delilah asked, gazing at him, searching his eyes for some reason to hope.
Marcus smiled. “You don’t?” he asked.
After all they’d been through, how far they’d come through the Fallen Bastion… they must be close. Tock couldn’t see to guide them, and Delilah couldn’t feel any sign that they were close enough, but…
The Key trusts you. Trust it in return, and it won’t let you down.
Maybe… maybe that’s all I need. If it’s all I can do right now, then it’ll have to be enough. And before we turn the Key, we need to deal with…
Delilah turned her attention back to the fight, and raced to join it with her Felines.
Rabanastre joined Maribelle’s fight first, and threw a vicious punch straight at Dullan. Dullan blocked the rabbit’s fist on the haft of his scythe, stood his ground, and then, putting his whole body into it, pushed back. Rabanastre was knocked back several steps, ducked under a scythe slash…
And Alice came leaping over her Summon, voice raised in a battle cry, silver sword poised to strike. Two lightning-quick thrusts were evaded by Dullan, and then the difference in size and reach between the two became readily apparent. Alice was only an inch or two taller than Delilah, nowhere near as tall as Maribelle, and a single step back from Dullan put him far outside her reach. When he warded her off with his scythe, her only option was to leap away in an agile backflip.
But now three were up against Dullan. And as Maribelle went on the attack, Dullan committed to defending against her, and was caught off-guard when Felix Feline Felinosis, First Swordmeowster of the Twelfth Circle, came charging in from behind him. Twin rapiers struck true, and Dullan let out a cry of pain. Spinning, he swung his scythe in a wide arc, warding off all attackers, and then sidestepped a trio of arrows from Redmond. He regained his composure, just as Alice and Rabanastre launched a combined assault, and while he weathered that pair well enough, soon Maribelle and Felix were in the fray, too.
Dullan and Maribelle were very nearly evenly matched. With this many skilled reinforcements, the tide swiftly turned against the Son of Night. He staved them off well enough at first. With such dominating size and reach, and speed and strength to back it up, he wasn’t an easy foe to push into a corner. And while the chamber they were in wasn’t massive, it had plenty of open space for Dullan to keep his options open.
But slowly, steadily, they were forcing him one way. Alice’s eyes danced with excitement, with the thrill of the tide turning, as she and Rabanastre brought a rapid, coordinated offensive. Delilah could feel her Summons, Felix and Redmond, sharing that excitement, although they were more subdued. They also shared Delilah’s concerns about the foes that hadn’t yet shown themselves, and remained alert while pushing back against Dullan. And with Maribelle at the core of their assault, there was only one way this could go.
Maneuvering space dwindling as Dullan continued retreating towards one corner of the chamber, he seemed to realize just how much danger he was in. With a mighty swing, he forced his foes back, and in the brief moment it took them to recover and attack again, he slammed the base of his scythe on the floor. Tendrils of Darkness spread around it, flickering, living shadows.
Three shadows.
“Get back!” Delilah cried out. Felix and Redmond leapt back, and Alice and Rabanastre swiftly followed. Maribelle was the last, leaping up and away in a pirouetting backflip just as the three tendrils of shadow exploded with fury, raging dark fires roaring.
From the fires emerged three women. Once Princesses of Solitude, now they were Princesses of Darkness. Their skin and clothes were black as night, and their heads were adorned with circlets of darkness. And their eyes, just like at the Lost Bell, smoldered with a dark, vicious fury, enough that Delilah shrank back a step just at a glance from them.
The Furies carried no weapons. They didn’t need them. And unlike at the Lost Bell, they weren’t sluggish, still finding their footing.
They were complete, as Dullan had promised. And they charged forward with shocking speed, mouths open to let loose three shrill, alien cries of pure fury.
“Back!” Maribelle cried, stepping between the Furies and Delilah and Alice, Takina held up to ward the Furies off. She couldn’t strike them — the sword recognized them as the Princesses of Solitude, and would not bring them to harm — but her defensive posture at least bought a moment. The Furies paused, measuring their foe.
“Isabelle, play the song!” Delilah said.
Isabelle nodded, stretching out her hand and bringing forth the True Flute in a shimmer of white light. There was a worried look in her eyes, and she paused in lifting the flute to her lips. But a moment later, the hesitation was replaced by determination. She raised the flute, and began to play.
It was a somewhat haunting, somewhat hopeful tune. Like what she’d played so long ago, outside of Grimoire’s public library. Like what she’d played to open the path to the Library of Solitude, and again within her home to open the doors leading to the center, where they could save it.
Delilah didn’t know the song’s name. But it felt just like the Library of Solitude, this strange contradiction. Such a vast, beautiful place, full of knowledge, and now that it was restored, full of people.
And yet, at the same time, lonely, and longing.
Full of light, a Daylight Bastion, the Prime Bastion.
And yet, at the same time, the Bastion that had been Lost for so long. The Bastion that had fallen to Darkness, and only recently been restored.
Isabelle’s home. Maribelle’s home. The home of Annabelle, and Sarabelle, and the three Furies, as well. They may have lost their identities, may have been warped and twisted by Dullan’s wicked magic.
But they were still, somewhere inside, Princesses of Solitude.
So Isabelle played the song that would call them home.
The Furies screamed, in pain and torment. But they didn’t stop their advance. They merely slowed. One thrust a taloned, grasping hand at Maribelle. Maribelle stepped back, and raised her own hand, palm outward, bursting with brilliant white light.
But it was just like at the Lost Bell. There was a brief struggle, but then the Fury clenched her hand into a fist, snuffing out the light. Maribelle gasped, staggered, and dropped to one knee.
“Leave her alone!” Alice cried, leaping into battle, her silver sword flashing. The Fury she targeted turned, grabbed her sword with her bare hand, and yanked hard. Alice struggled for a moment, then gasped in pain, her hand locked within the handguard for a moment before the sword was wrenched, painfully, from her grasp. Alice fell back, clutching her left hand, the wrist and fingers swollen and bruised. Tossing aside the rapier, the Fury descended on Alice, one hand raised to strike…
And Rabanastre was there. He charged in, ramming her with his shoulder, lifting her bodily and tossing her back. She landed on her feet, wincing in pain — but clearly not from his attack. Not a physical pain, no.
It was the pain that Isabelle’s song brought on.
Meanwhile, Rabanastre reeled back. Black smoke was rising from his shoulder, the shoulder that had contacted the Fury.
The Furies, seeing Maribelle, Alice, and Rabanastre no longer as a threat, immediately turned their attention on the child playing the song that harmed them so. The song that could save them…
And the song that they most wished to drown out.
“No!” Delilah cried, assembling all of her Felines between the Furies and Isabelle. Dullan came, too, brandishing his scythe, but he didn’t lead the way. He stood behind, goading the Furies forward.
He wanted them to do the work. He wanted them to complete this awful mission.
They charged into Delilah’s Summons, and the four Felines put up a brave front that only lasted moments. Nekoma was tossed aside like a doll, her huge, armored form crashing against a wall and then slumping down to the floor, dazed, black smoke wafting up from her. Felix, Redmond, and Reginald lasted a bit longer, deftly bobbing and weaving, evading the Furies’ attacks. But they couldn’t last. Felix was brought down first. A Fury grabbed one of his swords, and a shock of pain shot through him — and Delilah, too. For Felix, his swords were part of himself. He couldn’t let them go, they couldn’t be wrenched away, and if harm could be done to them, they were done to him.
It was Redmond and Reginald who rescued Felix, gleaming arrows and cracking whip convincing the Fury to let Felix go, tossing him aside to land in a heap on Nekoma’s lap. But the other two Furies came on fast, slashing and kicking until they struck true, sending the pair of Felines crashing into Felix and Nekoma.
And Delilah fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. She felt their pain rippling through her, knotting her stomach, paralyzing her. Tears stung her eyes, and she opened her mouth to scream, but all that came out was a pained, gasping whimper.
I can’t… I can’t stop here…
She told herself that, willed herself to move, but she could barely even form coherent thoughts over the pain of her Felines, a pain she shared too acutely to ignore or shake off.
And so the Furies continued on, screaming and shaking their heads against Isabelle’s song. Stomping forward, their advance slowed, as if they were forging their way against a raging current.
All that stood in their way was Marcus, now. And Terevalde and Emmeryn. With no powers to fight back, they bravely put themselves in front of Isabelle, ready to protect her with their bodies if Marcus failed.
I can’t… just leave them… to face this… alone…
Delilah moved a shaking hand up to her neck. She grasped the Key of the World on its chain, the pearlescent key inscribed with her name, the Key that had put all its trust in her.
If you can… then please. Please, help me!
As she asked for strength, for help, she also touched her keychain Talisman lightly. She dismissed her Summons. Their pain suddenly left her in a heavy release of breath, but with their absence also came a fatigue, a sudden exhaustion that threatened to leave her just as crippled as the pain had.
Meanwhile, the Furies marched onward. Slower now, the song taking more effect, but still getting closer.
They reached Marcus. Staff planted on the floor, a bubble of white light surrounding him and extending to shelter Isabelle, Terevalde, and Emmeryn, he stood his ground. But when the Furies clawed against the glowing shield, it wavered. Marcus’ expression twisted, revealing his struggle. His arms trembled, and he took a step back. Knuckles white as he gripped his staff, he leaned forward, fighting against the dark power of the Furies.
Seconds later, he’d given all the fight he could. The shield shattered, and he was sent flying, skidding across the floor to stop, unconscious, against the far wall.
All that stood between the Furies and Isabelle now were Terevalde and Emmeryn. They held hands tightly, only the slightest flicker of fear in their determined gazes.
But they wouldn’t last a second. Delilah had to move!
Please!
She staggered to her feet, stumbled, kept her feet under her. Every step her pace quickened, every step she was a little more sure. From stumbling to walking, from walking to running, she raced to help Isabelle, to do whatever she could against the unstoppable power of the Furies.
What could she do? The question only flickered through her mind for a second, vanishing as soon as it came. She’d find something. She’d have to.
She’d come too far to fail now. And she’d brought Isabelle safely through too much danger to let her fall now.
The Furies stretched out their hands, grasping for Terevalde and Emmeryn. The pair shut their eyes tight, but planted their feet, not retreating from their spot.
But the Furies didn’t reach the pair. Delilah skidded in front of them, hands flung out wide. “Stop!” she cried, as loud as she could.
The Furies paused for a moment. And then, they struck.
Or would have, if they’d reached Delilah a second sooner.
The ground rumbled, quaked, and all still standing staggered, stumbled, fought for balance. Isabelle managed to keep playing, but the tune was halting, losing its prominence. All around them, the hungry, haunting laughter of the Fallen Bastion returned, mocking the heroes’ efforts.
But Delilah cried again, in a voice that paled against the rumbling of an entire Bastion, “Stop!”
And then, the ground beneath her feet gave way.
A massive hole opened up, but not by design. The Fallen Bastion’s laughter turned to a sudden cry that choked off almost as soon as it arrived. The floor shattered into a thousand massive pieces, and Delilah was falling through the floor, along with Terevalde, Emmeryn, Isabelle, and the Furies.
Just in time, she called upon a Mobility Disc. It caught her, but failed to catch the others, and when she maneuvered to try and reach them, a huge chunk of obsidian floor crashed into the disc and shattered it. Delilah was falling again. She slammed into a chunk of rock, rolled off of it, and landed in a sprawl on the floor below.
The rumbling faded. Rubble cracked, rattled, then went silent.
All was quiet.
Delilah groaned, pushing herself to her feet. She cast about for Isabelle, and found her — unconscious. A small rock had struck her forehead, and she lay breathing but otherwise unmoving, her flute clutched in her small hands.
The song had stopped. But the Furies were not saved, not yet.
And they were on the move.
Delilah flinched back as she saw the Furies rising from the rubble, unhurt and, worse, starting to get their strength back now that the song had ended. Terevalde and Emmeryn were half-conscious, groaning and murmuring listlessly, fighting to awaken and rise. But for now, it was just Delilah.
So she ran to Isabelle, sliding to a stop at her side. She shook her, but Isabelle wouldn’t wake. Other than the blow to her head, she was unhurt it seemed, but…
Delilah couldn’t play her flute.
And the Furies would be coming for her soon. Right now they were looking around, peering around the rubble for the child that had hurt them so.
They’re still recovering. Still finding their strength. If the song started up again… we might be able to stop them, finally, once and for all. We might be able to save them!
Without the Flute, though… without Isabelle…
The Key in Delilah’s hands pulsed with a warmth. Just once, but that warmth reached into Delilah’s heart, and awakened a song within her. She knew the song Isabelle had been playing. It wasn’t overly complex, and it repeated after a time, so Delilah had heard the entire song multiple times already.
She couldn’t play a flute, no.
But she could sing.
So she stood tall, took a deep breath, and sang. A song without words, a song from Isabelle, reaching out to the Furies’ hearts, desperate to save them. A song of Solitude. A song to remind them who they were.
The Furies turned as one, vicious, vengeful glares fixed on Delilah. They approached… but they couldn’t come quickly. They staggered and stumbled, clawing at rock and each other to maintain their balance. Their strength was failing. If Delilah could just hold on long enough, could just sing long enough…!
But the Furies were too close, coming too fast. Her song was working, but she was Delilah, not Isabelle. She just had her voice, not the True Flute that Lady Kodoka had made for the youngest Princess of Solitude.
The Furies were too close. One lunged for Delilah, but slipped, fell, and missed by mere inches. The second was right behind, grasping for Delilah, and Delilah managed to take a step back without breaking the song, narrowly avoiding that taloned hand.
But the third seemed to have more strength. She leapt over her failing sisters, both hands outstretched, mouth wide in a shrill, furious shriek. Delilah staggered back, fell onto the floor. Her voice wavered, but she didn’t stop singing. The Fury missed, but was moving, would be on her in a second…
Until a new voice joined the song. High above, from the edge of the hole in the floor Delilah had fallen through, a clear, strong voice sang with Delilah. There, on the edge, stood Maribelle. Bleeding, down on one knee, but with strength enough yet to sing.
The Furies turned back, and for a moment were caught, confused, unsure. They looked to Maribelle, then Delilah, then back up to Maribelle. That moment of confusion left them lost, and then they were all falling to their knees, hands clutching their heads, swaying, screaming, and…
Crying.
The shrill, alien shrieks slowly morphed into the voices of young women weeping. Darkness fell from their bodies like paint being washed away, pooling across the floor around them and then vanishing. Sharp, taloned nails shortened, dulled, to normal lengths and non-lethal shapes. Dark, tangled hair morphed to a familiar apple-red color and smoothed itself out.
Where darkness had ruled three pairs of eyes, now light gleamed pale blue. Three Princesses gazed at each other in wonder, tears streaming down their faces.
They then looked to Maribelle, then to the unconscious Isabelle, who was stirring, and finally to Delilah. “Thank you,” said one, in a quiet, strained voice. She was smiling.
And then, the three of them fell against each other, then back against a fallen rock. Sleeping, finally peacefully, all fury having left them for good.
“We… did it,” Isabelle murmured, sitting up. She swayed, and Delilah caught her, holding her up. Isabelle smiled at her. “Thank you. I’m… going to stay with them. Keep them safe.”
“Yeah,” Delilah said. “Don’t worry. This’ll be over soon.”
She helped Isabelle up, and as the little girl walked to her sisters, Delilah gazed across the room she’d fallen into.
There was a doorway, the only place in the entire Fallen Bastion that wasn’t pure black. A faint glimmer of silver shone at the top of the opening, in the shape of a key.
“This is far from over,” Dullan said coolly from high above. But a sudden clash of weapons, and an ensuing shockwave, drowned out whatever he tried to say next.
“I’ll hold him back!” Maribelle cried. “Delilah, finish this!”
Delilah nodded, and started forward as fast as she could. It wasn’t much. She was tired, weak, hurting all over. But this was almost done. As she stumbled her way towards the doorway, she raised a shaking hand to her ear. “Shana?” she asked. “Fae? Are you ready to turn the Key?”
“We’re ready,” Fae said, and Delilah could hear her smiling.
“Ready and hoping the wait isn’t much longer!” Shana said over wild, rushing wind. “Just tell us when!”
Delilah quickened her steps as much as she could, which was only a tiny bit more. She fell, but she was close enough to the doorway that she caught herself on it. A moment to collect herself, and then she stepped inside.
And stopped short, icy dread flooding through her.
“The… Key…!”
There was the Pedestal, pearly white, pulsing with soft light, calling out to Delilah and the Key.
And swirling around it, blocking the path forward, was the Lingering Will. All ghostly silver vapor, faint hints of hands, eyes, mouths forming and then vanishing here and there, it had taken on a different demeanor than any time before. It wasn’t pursuing Delilah, hungrily chasing her down.
It was waiting. Letting her come to it. And there was a certain smug confidence about it, a sense that this was inevitable, that victory had always been at hand, and now, finally, the battle was over.
Delilah had lost.
No. No, it’s not ending here, not now!
But she had no idea what to do, no clue how to progress. What did she do now? How could she finish what she’d started, when every path forward was blocked by this ghostly Intangible, this being that could not be fought?
“Gio!” a firm voice shouted from the door. Delilah turned to see Terevalde and Emmeryn entering behind her. They’d recovered enough to stand, to walk, but they were clearly as shaky on their feet as Delilah was. “The journey ends here,” Terevalde continued. “Did you really think you could find the Key so easily? Did you really think you could take it from the hands of a child?”
Delilah stared at him, the question in her eyes. Emmeryn caught that look, and smiled slightly. As if she was saying that everything was going to be all right. As if to say, “Trust us.”
And then she reached into her pocket, and pulled out the Key of the World.
Delilah stared at it, for a moment not believing what she saw. She almost checked her own Key, but she stopped herself.
A replica. They made that? But… is it convincing?
The replica Key pulsed with white light, and then shone brightly, a single beam of light piercing to the heart of the ghostly swarm. The Lingering Will seemed unbothered, but definitely intrigued. It started to focus its form, no longer surrounding the Pedestal. “The Key!” it cried in its hungry, whispering voice.
“Come and get it, Gio,” Emmeryn said, holding the replica Key high. “If you can.”
And then she and Terevalde ran from the room, finding sudden strength to speed their steps. The Lingering Will let loose a desperate cry, and started after them. Delilah dove aside, and when the Lingering Will had passed her, she hesitated for a moment, despairing after the safety of Terevalde and Emmeryn. How could they possibly outrun it?
But…
She turned back to the Pedestal. Turning the Key would bring an end to all of this. The Endless Night, the Lord of Night, the Sons of Night. The Lingering Will.
She knew what she had to do.
She started towards the Pedestal, but after three quick, desperate steps, she slipped and fell. Up came the hard stone floor, and she knew this was it, she wouldn’t be able to get up again…
But she never hit the floor.
Small, strong arms grabbed her just in time and hauled her back to her feet. Delilah’s bracelet gleamed with white light, and she looked over to see Alice holding her up, white eyes shining, a smile on her lips. “You didn’t think you’d go and save the day without me, did you?” she asked.
Delilah’s heart stuck in her throat. Tears stung in her eyes. She just smiled, and together, she and Alice reached the Pedestal. Taking a deep breath, Delilah found her voice long enough to say through her comm unit: “It’s time. Turn the Key!”
Holding up her own Key, it suddenly blazed with white light, and enlarged to fit the Pedestal. Now it was nearly three feet long, almost like a sword, and Delilah gripped it like one, flipped it over, and thrust it into the Pedestal.
She and Alice held it, and together, they turned the Key of the World.