The COMPLETE Witching Pen Series, Boxed Set (93 page)

“It’s gone. My magic – I used it all up. I can’t get us out.”

He looked up again, and then tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek.

“There’s nothing left – this is it. It’s just you and me.”

He kissed the trail it left, ending on the side of her mouth, and then placed a final kiss on her lips.

She met his gaze – loving, calm, steady…

“That isn’t nothing, Elena. It’s everything.”

~*~

He’d been here before – at death’s door – so this was nothing new, although it still hurt, and more than before, because he now knew what he was leaving behind; what he
could
live for…

But the pain was bearable, because Amy’s love for him was whole, and made him whole – what a gift to have. Just yesterday, he would have denied that he deserved it. Now, he knew he did, because it had brought him here – had allowed him to come here to make everything right.

The sands of time had released their last grain for him, but for others, he could make sure the hourglass turned.

Paul bit his tongue as a large stone fell on his shoulder. He shrugged off the injury.

He didn’t want to warn them.

He didn’t say hello, or goodbye.

He didn’t say I’m sorry, or I love you, even though he felt it with every fibre of his being.

He said nothing, because he wouldn’t have a second chance to get this right.

He gathered all his energy, all the magic he possessed, knowing he would use it all up to ensure their safety, and wrapped it around his granddaughter and her soul-bonded.

Their startled faces disappeared as he closed his eyes and concentrated on the words that would teleport them out of the centre of the Earth – not overly easy with the Earth caving in. It was as if it was trying to keep them here; as if gravity was magnified at the crux of manifestation.

Increasing the pace of his chant, he put all of himself into it and gave everything he had.

He felt the moment that gravity yielded. It was like the ping of an elastic band, and a bloody glorious feeling.

When he opened his eyes, he saw their faces tainted with sorrow and filled with gratitude … and Elena’s, flowing with love…

“Thank you,” she whispered, and then they faded from sight.

His last thought was of his son, as the world collapsed on top of him.

~*~

One last scream, a final push … an exclamation of victory!

The ring glowed on her finger, a magical warmth filling her from head to toe and inside out … and then, the ring disappeared.

And she knew … she knew.

But even as grief nudged her, it was joy that swallowed her whole as her baby cried with his first breath.

~*~

Across seven continents, eight dragons took to the skies, the largest of them all, breaking through rock and river to herald the birth of a new Messiah … and a new age.

Epilogue

“Buildings fell, rivers flooded, new lands were created with the never ending quakes… Of course, they did end, because everything ends… And the Dragons guarded the new beginning, bringing balance to the world once more, ensuring that light and dark would never be split again—”

“Because the Dragons are made of dark and light,” finished the boy, eagerly.

The man raised a brow. “Yeah. Heard the story before, have you?”

The boy smiled. “Yes.” He’d come every year to this travelling fair to hear the story, even though he’d heard it three times already. But it hadn’t been the story that had first caught his attention. It had been the fact that no one else seemed able to see the storyteller the way he did.

“Mum, that man talking about dragons has scales,” he had said to his mother three years ago, when he himself had only been five.

His mum had looked at the storyteller and squinted, then pulled that confused look. She always looked a bit confused. “I see an old, bald man with a big white beard. I don’t see scales. Brennan, why would anyone have scales? People don’t have scales.”

Of course, he’d been intrigued, because he didn’t see an old, bald man with a white beard. Well, he was
kinda
old…

Every year since then, he’d asked his mum and dad to take him to the fair so he could hear the story again, and see the man with the scales.

“What’s that there mean?” he asked, pointing to his neck. He talked in a strange way, always so blunt, and with a weird accent.

Brennan looked down at his necklace. “My Great Aunt Katherine gave it to me – it means ‘primeval chaos’” he blushed, “like in your story.”

“Family heirloom, eh?”

“I suppose so.”

“So, where have you heard the story before?” He leaned back in his chair and locked his hands behind his head.

“From you. I come here every year to hear it.”

“Why’s that then?”

He shrugged. “It sort of makes me feel like … like I could be a Dragon and fly in the sky, or maybe … I don’t know. Stupid I guess. It’s just a fairy tale.”

Now, he raised both brows. “Don’t go belittling fairies – they were a great race once.”

“Yeah, well, my mum doesn’t believe in fairies, or dragons, or angels, or demons.”

“Know that for sure, do you?”

“Well, she doesn’t say anything when I talk about your stories.”

He smiled and his grey eyes twinkled. “Here’s a lesson for you, kid: you’ll never know everything about your parents. No matter how old you are; no matter how much you
think
you know, there’ll always be something they don't tell you.”

He frowned, not sure how he felt about that. “Do I know all of the story? Have you told it all?”

He snorted. “Come back in ten years and you might hear the X-rated version.”

A loud, tutting noise came from behind him and he turned to find
that
woman glaring at the storyteller.

Oh, wow.

She was here every year too, and she also had scales. Why could no one else see the scales? But even with the scales she was… The heat found his face and he squirmed, not entirely comfortable. His dad’s term for her would be
hot
.

She strode right up to the man and lightly slapped him across the head.

“Oi!”

She turned to Brennan and smiled
that
smile that reached all the way up to her out-of-this-world blue eyes – a stark contrast to her black hair. “Is he bothering you? Because if he is, it’s okay to tell him to shove off.”

“I wasn’t bothering him,” the man retorted. “I was—”

“Being overbearing?” She rolled her eyes and plonked herself down on his lap, which seemed to instantly calm him.

He’d noticed that his dad liked it when his mum sat on his lap, too.
Must be a grown-up thing.
 

She stared pointedly at him. “Your mum and dad will make sure you always know everything you need to, don’t you worry about that. How old are you?”

His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool with the way she looked at him. “Er … eight.”

“Oh, that’s a good age. Great things happen at eight. Remember the witch in the story who brought that butterfly to life? She was eight when she did that.”

Oh, yeah…
He grinned. “Think I’ll ever be able to do that? Or, maybe…”

“Maybe…?”

“I’d like to…” he hesitated. It sounded so stupid.

“Go on,” the beautiful woman encouraged.

“I’d like to change into a dragon and fly in the sky, like the shape shifters in your story. And help to protect everyone.” He ducked his head, slightly embarrassed.

The woman leaned forward, all seriousness now, and tilted his chin up. “Great things happen when you’re eight,” she repeated. “You can do anything you set your mind to – there’s no one stopping you. Nothing is greater than your will.”

The man winked from behind her. “’Cept maybe love.”

“Brennan!”

“Oh…” he winced. “That’s my mum.”

“Brennan.” His mum scurried up to him, and he couldn't help but notice the way the blue of her sapphire necklace glinted in the light. She had told him it had belonged to his grandmother. “I’m so sorry if he’s bothering you,” she addressed the couple, and then she shot him a look that said, ‘you shouldn’t annoy old people’ and ‘respect your elders’ all at once. Seriously … could she
not
see the scales? They weren’t all over or anything – just around the eyes and ears, and at the sides of their throats … definitely noticeable.

“He’s not bothering us at all,” said the woman.

“Good.” His mum turned to him. “Dad’s waiting by the tree. Uncle Karl and Aunt Elena have just turned up – we’re going to have lunch with them.”

He caught a flash of sadness in the man’s eyes, and the woman took his hand in hers and laced their fingers together. It took the sadness away and he gave her a smile.

Brennan liked these two people; he liked them a lot. He looked back and forth between her mum and them. “Why can’t others see your scales?”

“Brennan!” His mum looked aghast.

The man hooted with laughter, and the woman turned to his mum. “Kids just come out with the strangest things, don’t they?”

His mum had her head in her hand. He hoped she wasn’t going to tell him off later for that comment, but his curiosity was peaked, and he couldn’t figure it out. He hated not being able to figure things out.

“It’s really okay,” the woman assured his mum, and then she leaned into him again and whispered in his ear. “Because we hide them from others – it makes it easier to do our job if people can’t see them, and it also makes it safer for us. But
you
can see through the glamour. Remember, there’s a time for all things to be revealed.”

She pulled back and turned to the man, who was looking in the direction of the tree again – was he looking at Uncle Karl? “There’s a time for all things to be revealed,” she said again, to him this time.

He looked at her and nodded.

She turned back to Brennan. “See you next year. And maybe by then, you’ll have a story to tell
us
.”

He didn’t know why she would say that. “Bye,” he waved, as his mum half-dragged him away towards the tree where everyone was waiting.

This tree was special. He had been born here, and his grandmother and great grandmother had both died here. He thought that was kind of a weird reason to like the tree, but even so, everyone
did
like it. And it did sort of look all unusual and super-green.

His dad had told him this entire area used to be a desert, but after he was born, it bloomed to life and became the grassy haven it now was. With the Great Quakes, a river sprang up just north of this area and it now nourished everything in it, and what was once called the Wastelands, was now called the Birthlands.

He smiled at Aunt Elena, who he thought was kinda kooky. He couldn’t figure out how she was his aunt, because she wasn’t his mum or dad’s sister, but his mum had said that it was complicated and she was blood related to him, and it was just easier to call her ‘aunt’. That was cool – he liked both Uncle Karl and Aunt Elena a lot.

Oh, the twins were there, too – Beatrice and Paula. They were their three-year old girls, and Aunty Elena was pregnant again. He hoped it was a boy – girls screamed too much, and these two always got in trouble and got away with everything because they knew how to smile their way out of anything. Aunt Elena really needed to tell them off more, but he had caught her smiling at their ‘innocent’ smiles when they weren’t looking.
I’ll never figure parents out.
 

“Hey, kiddo,” boomed his dad with a big grin.

He hoped he’d be as tall as his dad one day – his dad was pretty cool, although he owned odd underwear … not that he should have been snooping in his parents drawers…

“Hi, Dad.”

He was scooped up into a bear hug, even though he was getting too old for them. He rolled his eyes into his dad’s chest, and remembered his dream last night – about the
other
guy who he called Dad. He hadn’t told anyone about those dreams, but there was this man with brown hair and kind eyes who he called his ‘dream dad’. He’d always been there, ever since he’d first dreamed, and whenever he had a bad day, and felt like he couldn’t tell his mum or dad something, he would tell his dream dad instead. He wondered if it was okay to have this little secret, but he didn’t want to lose the dreams – in some ways, which he didn't fully understand, they nourished him – so he’d never mentioned them at all.

“Elena’s going to magic us all some lunch, so let her know what you fancy.”

Brennan caught himself frowning again. If magic could happen, why did no one say anything when he talked about the fairies, dragons, angels and demons from the story?

‘…you’ll never know everything about your parents.’
 

He turned back to look at the storyteller and the woman, but the seat was empty – they had gone.

Instead, he looked up at the sky and imagined them swarming with winged beasts. It would be so awesome to be able to fly. He imagined he was one of them, keeping everyone safe.

And you will
, whispered a voice in his head.
One day, you will.
 

~*~

Mary wrapped her arms around Gwain from behind him, and rested her head against his shoulder. They both stared across the fields and the bustle of people, towards the tree.

“Soon … you’ll be able to reveal yourself to Karl soon. Brennan’s nearly there. You know it's too risky before he displays his abilities – we’re still such a new world.”

“I know,” he replied, gruffly.

“He’ll be okay about seeing you again. He’s got a good heart, like you have, and the patience of angels,” she smiled, and kissed him on the shoulder. “So like his father in many ways.”

Gwain turned to his … ahhh – he didn’t even have a word for what Mary was to him. His every bloody second of every single aeon.

She smiled back at him, so steady and sure, so full of faith and so completely whole. She mirrored his own soul and filled him with peace.

“What the fuck would I do without you?”