Chapter 24 Children of the Grey Lady

Nicolea struggled, but the unwet liquid held her like quicksand. Feeling around, a root met her grasp. Her clawed hand held onto it desperately to keep from being drawn further down as all the dark emotions of her life raged against the fragile light that redeemed her. She screamed, screeching like a bird of prey as she dragged herself upward one hand over another. The cursed water wanted her to rage, wanted her to hate, but most of all, it wanted her to renounce the love she had learned to feel and give. It whispered to her in the voices of her fear and resentment, trying to smother her light with a downward current like a raging river. As she got closer to the mirror-smooth surface, she could hear Greyson and Morgana arguing.

"Did you think I wouldn't know what it was, Morgana? Or that I would do nothing while your son spread your madness to the humans?" Greyson's accusation rang like a cathedral bell.

A laugh like the rattle of bones answered then the self-appointed Medieval Queen of the Demonus Fae mocked him, "Gerard barely had to do anything! Humans are so filled with fear and hate it was easy to bend them to our will. In only two decades, we have replaced the forests you destroyed."

Greyson retorted, "Burning was the only way to purge it. This tree and your darkness are the same, deeply rooted, but the choice to overcome it and embrace the light will always be yours alone. You can still be forever redeemed if you burn away the rot from the tips of the leaves to the depths of the roots." His words resonated in Nicolea's soul.

"My evil? My Darkness? Ha! I do not need to be redeemed. My power is only judged by you as amoral because you limit yourself, Merlin! The Fae should be the rulers of this world, we were once worshipped as gods and goddesses."

Morgana thought he was speaking to her, but Nicolea heard his message as she pulled herself out of the water and laid at the base of an ancient giant elm. Morgana's dragon curled and struck Greyson, knocking him away. He rolled as if across an invisible floor. His wings shielded him from a blast of black fire and purple embers. A slash of his staff sent an arc of golden light and white lightning toward his half-sister, knocking her into the wall.

"You believe in the mythology of lies. We were never deities."

Panting and shivering, Nicolea stared up at the autumn leaves above, they looked like they were burning in the glow of the High Angeles. Shaking, she stood with tears streaming down her face because she knew what Greyson was telling her. She didn't want to let go of Bianca and her love without saying goodbye; she didn't want to be alone at the moment of her death but there was no choice.

The tree whispered to her, "Why should you sacrifice your life for one who doesn't return your affection? She abandoned you to die here. Become my new guardian and I will reward you."

In the reflection of the dark water, Nicolea could see two versions of herself. One depraved and dark like Morgana and one enlightened and bright like Bianca. She chose. "We loved each other and will always, but it is time for her to heal and love others."

"You are a Demonus, you cannot become something else. You are not of the light. They lied to you. Embrace your birthright, child of the shadows."

"No!" She refused to heed its whispers to return to what she was born to be. With her clawed hands, she began tearing the shadowy shroud that clung to her. It shredded revealing a white raiment. "They taught me to be a healer and I will die to heal the world from you."

She flung her arm outward, and her spear appeared. The eldrich scrollwork around the blade and shaft burned with the golden and white flames of celestial fire. Holding her weapon over her head, she stabbed it through the elm, straight into its rotted heart. She pushed all her soul energy through her spear into the corrupt wood, heating. The un-water splashed over her, freezing her and trying to pull her away again, but she had been submerged in it too many times as an abused, young Demonus to succumb. It ebbed away unable to cling to her. The dark, mirror surface reflected an archangel and a dragon battling above the autumnal leaves, then it began to bubble. The tree burst into flames and Nicolea screamed as she burned with it. Black and golden flames warred. The pool of evil boiled away as Nicolea sent her fire from the tips of the highest leaves to the deepest and tiniest tendrils of root. She dropped to her knees, burning with everything she left in her soul so that nothing of the profane tree survived.

Morgana looked down and saw the Samhain Elm in flames. "No! My tree!" She screeched as she dove at the burning white figure, but Greyson knocked her away.

"You cannot feign defeat and hide for centuries this time. Repent your evil, sister," Greyson begged. "Do not make me slay you."

"Never. Never will I regret a moment of my existence, Merlin," Morgana hissed, "Our Father was a feared king among Fae and Men. Your mother led him to the fool's path of peaceful coexistence."

Greyson stood calmly between her and the burning tree. "The Grey Lady was your mother too."

"I will never claim her weakness. Grandmother taught me how to be a goddess," Morgana retorted. She could see no way to get past Merlin that would not end in both their deaths as her tree cried out to her for aid. She shrank back down to the form of a young girl. Grass and flowers surrounded her bare feet. With head bowed, she asked, "Would you really slay me? Give up everything you became since we played on the heather covered hills."

Greyson almost stepped back, as his heart ached for the lost girl he had once shared fruit and laughter with. Killing her would cost him everything he had spent centuries becoming. He walked forward, melting into the boy he had been. "These children have been dead for a thousand years, you killed them and with the preservation of the Samhain Elm to make the Dust of Rage, any chance that I would show you mercy."

She lunged at him, with a screech. Together the rolled through the ashes of the tree, coming to rest against Nicolea's barely breathing body.

"I'll kill you both!" Morgana shifted into her true form, a hideous hag with talons for hands and feet that clawed at his wings until they were bloody bones and tattered feathers as he protected his ward. Blocking the blows of her wing claws, Greyson reached beyond her and felt the heat fractured blade of Nicolea's polearm sticking out of the heart of the tree. Jumping at Morgana, he rolled them and pinned Morgana with his weight, impaling her completely, and through her, himself.

Gasping, Morgana looked up at him in surprise as he hugged her to restrain her.

"Only by the blade of a cursed one and the blood of a blessed one," Greyson whispered as he bled into her wound.

"Get... off... me." Struggling, Morgana gasped as black and purple iridescent flames mixed with golden ones.

"You seduced Sebastian, enslaved him so he could not help me kill you once. You cannot save yourself this time."

Her corpse withered and crumbled as it became ash and charred bones. Greyson sobbed in agony as he lifted himself weakly, pushing free of the blade. Clutching his side and dragging the ruin of his wings away, he touched Nicolea.

"Be healed and ascend, child, become an Angeles as you always longed to."

Golden swirls lifted Nicolea onto the air, wrapping her in light. She hung limp as though in a sling. The walls of the pit holding the ashes of the tree and scorched rock began to crumble, falling downward into the tarry sludge that remained in the pool. Greyson's nearly transparent body waved his and the broken traveling mirror held together long enough for them to float through it. The surface rippled like water, then shattered behind them. Nicolea floated out into Greyson's room in Westcliff. He lowered her onto the bed then ethereal fingers picked up the phone and called the Research Hanger.

"Hello? This is Dr. Lance." His voice sounded confused.

"I love you, Jon," Greyson whispered as he dissolved into golden firefly-sparkles.

"Merle? Merle, hold on! I'm coming!" Jon panicked at the sound of his husband's pained murmur and the caller ID. He ran out the door leaving Bethany staring after him. "Call Galen, they're here!" He shouted over his shoulder at the vampire. The raid on Gerard's chalet had gone wrong and no one knew where Greyson or Nicolea were until now. He sped his hummer to the school and sprinted through the halls of the abandoned high school. Bursting into the room, Nicolea was laying on the bed naked. Her skin was covered in shimmering swirls while golden and white feathered wings had replaced the black ones.

"Nic? Nicolea! Open your eyes, sweetie, where's Merle?" Jon begged as Bianca burst out of the traveling mirror. "She's alive," Jon revealed as the healer Fae bent over her former lover.

"She'll recover but... she's an Angeles now," Bianca revealed.

"Where's Greyson?" Galen demanded. They were both glowing brightly.

"I don't know." Jon shook his head. "But he called me from this room."

"What did he say?"

"Just..." Jon choked on a sob for a moment. "Just, I love you, Jon." Tears wouldn't stay in his eyes as part of him tried to deny the truth.

Bianca wept openly as she covered Nicolea then she rose and hugged Jon. Jon trembled and tried to push her away, but she held him firmly as she whispered, "He loved you so much, and you made him so happy. Thank you."

Jon couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. He thought he had prepared himself for this moment since Greyson told him the truth of the Dust of Rage and Morgana, but he wasn't ready. Twisting, away from Bianca, he put the hanging phone back on the wall-mounted base, then he hesitated and touched the mirror for a moment. Waiting for his husband to reach through and clasp his hand as he had so many times before. Nothing happened. Gulping a breath to fill the sudden emptiness, Jon turned and walked out of the room.

The two Fae watched him go then turned back to Nicolea.

"Greyson used his soul energy to get her here," Bianca revealed softly.

"I know, but how, the mirror shattered after Nic shoved us through?" Galen scrubbed at his hair. "My mother is dead. I can feel it. My uncle dissipated her magic with his own."

"What about Greyson?" Bianca asked because she wasn't certain. "Could he have survived?"

Galen shrugged, "I don't know." He walked over and put his hand on the mirror. "I thought could feel him faintly on the other side, but he's not here. He's not anywhere." He turned back to the bed. "Do you know when she'll wake? Maybe she knows what happened."

"We can only wait," Bianca revealed.

VvvvvV

Shalom's POV

The sun slanted down through clouds, as I rushed off the Monarchy Jet as soon as it taxied to a stop at the Silver West Airport hangers. I spent the whole flight in denial. Galen told us yesterday evening that Greyson was dead, and I couldn't make my mind believe it. I found Jon in the research hanger and hugged him.

"How are you?" I wanted to slap myself for asking such a silly question, but I didn't know what else to ask. I knew where he was. I had been there only a year ago.

"I'm fine," he lied then he held up a printout.

Jake came in, carrying Justice. "Dr. Lance. I'm sorry for your loss."

"I won't believe he's dead so stop looking at me like that. We have to find those trees before the Human Purity Movement can make more of that syrup and contaminate another storm." Jon sounded as angry about Hurricane Tonya as I was but it was just something to not think about how Greyson sacrificed himself to kill Morgana and save Nicolea.

"We will," I promised as I held up the terabyte drive. "I have everything from Aliza's research facility." I sat down next to him, then glanced at his clenched jaw. "Is she awake yet?"

"No." Jon answered brusquely, then he shuddered slightly. He murmured, "Sorry."

I squeezed his hand then Jake growled, I turned to scold him for being jealous, but he was on the phone. He hung up and for a moment, I feared he would throw the phone. He answered my unspoken question.

"I ordered all wolves along the coast from Houston to Pensacola to evacuate yesterday morning. The eye dissipated and reformed during the night. There are traces of the Elm in the new eyewall of the storm. It is now on a track to hit New Orleans, Houston is in the clear, but the Texans are not letting any werewolf who left, return home until a week after the storm makes landfall if their governor doesn't change his mind," he revealed. "Most of the other southern states are doing the same."

"But that will be ten more days, minimum." Jon pulled up the constant stream on the news channels.

The words Terrorists Taint Tonya, Toxic Hurricane Update flashed across the bottom of the screen in bold print on a red ticker background. The anchors talked about the problem of having those who could be affected by the chemical weapon return to Hurricane Alley if the terrorists could just contaminate another storm. While one panelist argued for equal right for Nons, another pointed out they were a greater threat to public safety than guns and drugs. I muted the voices as I watched a vein starting to pulse in Jake's neck. I was certain holding our son was the only thing keeping him from going Raver.

"Where will they go if they can't go home?" Jon asked softly. He was eyeing Jake as carefully as I was.

"Mid-America I guess but if I am completely honest, I don't know. Several states are demanding Werewolves and Vampires register like felony criminals. The public has gone from supporting us to hating and fearing us in a week." He ground his teeth.

Tapping his pen, Jon suggested, "You need to ask the President if you could convert pack lands to reservation status like several of the Native tribe shifters live on. Or maybe even ask for the Q.Z., it's already clear of most humans. The remaining Ravers can be dealt with by those who at least have a chance to survive in a fight against them."

"That's not a bad idea," I agreed with him.

I felt he was also thinking about the two pilots that were stripped of their ranks and arrested pending a court-martial from not revealing they were werewolves, even though they stopped one of the tanker planes for dumping its cargo in the storm. It wasn't fair, but people were scared. In two or three days, a category three hurricane filled tainted with the chemical that turned the Revelation Night blizzard into a weapon of mass destruction would make landfall and no one knew if all those who could be turned into murderous monsters had left. My wolf scolded me that we were not monsters, but I was too stressed out to fight with her. Jake and General Padget had a rapid deployment force with the Monarch Mountain Ravers ready to move out from the Naval Base in New Orleans if someone went Raver but all we could do was wait and pray.