The Season of Passage

  In a lifetime of nightmares, Terry could not have conceived of anything more horrible than the way in which she was smothering him. His heart shrieked in his chest, threatening to rupture. Still he managed to shake his head.

  Her smile crumbled as if it had been made of aged plaster. She grabbed the other wineglass and shattered the crystal on the table, and held the jagged edge to his throat.

  'You will love me,' she said. 'For here is your jugular, and here is your carotid.' She scratched him. Warm drops of blood trickled down his neck. Still she did not give him the chance to breathe. She dug into his skin with the glass. 'A fraction more pressure and your blood will soak this couch.'

  'No,' he gasped.

  Her smile returned, gloating. 'Do you love me?' She throttled him, yet gave him a little air. 'Answer me!'

  Tears burned his eyes. 'I love Lauren.'

  She was suddenly angry. 'Say that you love me!'

  'Lauren...'

  'Is dead! Is rotting! You are beaten! All of you are!'

  But Terry knew it was only another lie. He was getting kind of sick of them. Didn't she know that he had already read the chronicle of the Sastra?

  I won't forget you. Although I am far away, I will always watch over you... And when the threat of the enemy awakens, I will be there. It is Chaneen who promises you this:

  Using the last drop of his strength, Terry slipped a finger under the biting rosary and whispered in defiance, 'Chaneen will destroy you.'

  The monster hissed. 'She!'

  And from seemingly light-years away there came an answer to his call, an answer to the vampire's raving. It came in a soft voice, clear and kind. Yet it was a powerful voice, a voice of one capable of bringing the fire.

  'Yes,' said the one.

  The monster's attention whipped to the doorway. An expression of pure terror cracked her face. Her suffocating hold dropped from his throat. She scampered to her feet like a giant insect, standing poised, ready to use her stinger. Terry, momentarily stunned, tried to stand too. He wondered who was at the door. But his foe obviously did not want another player in this contest. She lashed out with a hammer-like claw. The blow smashed the side of his head, and brought a rain of stars. He hit the wall with incredible force and collapsed to the floor. Except for the

  yellow space surrounding a solitary candle, everything went black.

  A thick mist covered his eyes. But it was not so horrible.

  He knew Chaneen was by his side.

  EPILOGUE

  THE PRINCESS

  The spell was cunning. It was a hurricane of invisible confusion, violent at the perimeter, silent in the center. But within the eye of the storm stood the enemy itself; therein lay the true threat. The body of the enemy needed no spell. It needed only fear.

  Jennifer Wagner hurried along the shore of the lake, following in the moonlight the footprints of the man who had recently walked before her. Jennifer was sixteen years old, taller and more fair than when she had left the known world behind, perhaps the most beautiful girl ever to walk the Earth. Her dress was long and blue. The hem brushed the cool sand beside her bare feet as she hurried. Her hair was a bright shade of sunlight. It twisted and curled in the warm night breeze. Secured over her left shoulder was Jim's canteen of water, taken from the ancient place. In her right hand was Daniel's crossbow, his wooden stake in place of an arrow. She was nearing the stream where the enemy should have been blocked.

  Earlier, when the approaching enemy had veered towards the city, she had sent out Daniel. She had seen the enemy's destination clearly, for it had swept its path with

  terror, reckless and proud, giving no thought to concealment. But only Lauren's lingering memories had brought it into the mountains of Wyoming, even though it believed it was fulfilling an ancient desire to possess fertile lands. In , many ways the enemy was a puppet of the body it possessed. Yet it was capable of mastering any ordinary human being.

  Because this one wore the ring, it was very easily marked in her own mind. Unfortunately the spell of peace the enemy had set over the forest had confused even her. Worse, the person whose steps she was retracing had arrived unexpectedly, and was therefore in grave danger. It must be Terry, she thought. He had read her story and had met the enemy. He must have recognized it.

  Jennifer reached the stream. She was too late. The enemy had been stopped by the running water, but had somehow tricked Terry into carrying it across. A cunning spell, indeed. Terry would have been wary, but alas, greatly overmatched. Jennifer studied the footprints. They led into the forest toward the cabin, rather than back along the shore. Turning, she hurried down the beach; it was faster that way. Within minutes she reached the clearing where the cabin stood, the place she had lived for the last year and a half. In all that time, Terry had never come once.

  Fortunately.

  Her apparent death had been vital to the world. She knew it would give the enemy a false sense of security. They would attack savagely, openly, without employing the more subtle powers at their command. They would be easy to find and destroy. They would be ignorant of their danger.

  The illusion of her death had been difficult to cast. Terry knew of the young girl who had drowned in the lake two

  years ago. Although she had attempted to persuade him otherwise, he had remained confident in his information. Fortunately, however, he did not closely examine the body that she and Daniel had dug up out of the local cemetery, the body they had burned. The ring on the dead girl's finger, the coloring and curling of her hair, and Daniel's acting - all these elements had worked to create the deception. Throughout the ordeal, Daniel was the only one she had entrusted with the complete truth. Daniel, who now lay in a hospital, broken beneath the blow of the enemy.

  Jennifer moved to the stump where she used to read. There she found a single white rose. She had a good view of the inside of the cabin. Terry sat on the couch with the enemy. The age-old temptation was being reenacted. The enemy had finally realized that a spark of life was necessary to create life, to complete the ultimate goal of the curse, to bring Kratine fully back to life, in a new physical form that would take nine months to develop, deep under the ground. Jennifer knew the gestation would consume Lauren's body entirely. The process would transform the flesh into something immortal that stank constantly of decay. Yet the final product would be able to look and smell as it wished. It would have the full power of illusion. It would have complete power over mankind. It would be the Master of its offspring, and their offspring, and so on, until the Garden was forever ruined.

  So the enemy needed Terry, his seed, alive but crossing over into death. But false affection had failed to win the seed. So had lust. Now it was employing the threat of death, the fear that filled its own heart, the threat that had caused Janier to weaken.

  Jennifer crept soundlessly to the porch. The wind had put out her candle. She relit it without a match. The candle

  in her left hand, the crossbow in her right, she crouched at the door and peered through the screen. The situation was desperate. The enemy now had a jagged blade at Terry's throat. He was bleeding. She could not destroy it without, risking him. If only all her old powers had returned!

  Time was short. Soon there would be two. Brave though Terry was, he was weakening. The fear went back to the beginning of time for her children. To die and fade into oblivion.

  Yet Jennifer hesitated. She listened.

  'Do you love me? Answer me!'

  'I love Lauren.'

  'Say you love me!'

  'Lauren...' *

  'Is dead! Is rotting! You are beaten! All of you are!'

  I won't forget you. I will be there.'

  'Chaneen will destroy you.'

  'She!'

  Hearing her ancient name spoken aloud, and moved by Terry's trust and devotion, Jennifer rose to the challenge. She stepped inside the cabin.

  'Yes,' she said.

  The enemy's reaction was instantaneous. Its reflexes were tremendous, at least the
match of her own. It sprang to its feet and in a cutting motion hit Terry in the head and knocked him against the wall. It skirted the couch and coiled to descend upon her. But Jennifer had not been idle. She was now pointing the suspended stake directly at its cold heart. She held her candle aloft. The enemy halted and eyed the crossbow, the tiny flame, and most of all her.

  I see you brought the fire.

  Jennifer went completely still. It seemed so like Lauren, the way she used to stand, the way her eyes blinked beneath her long bangs. Jennifer realized she should have released

  the arrow already, that there was no other choice. Yet she hesitated again. She could sense a remnant of her sister existing deep inside, cold and smothering, praying for release. Yet this part of Lauren was also afraid. It trembled before the wooden stake that would destroy the body that had once been hers alone. What was left of Lauren was afraid to forsake the thin thread of her life that remained. But it was with this thread that the curse was ironically woven. It was this that blocked her release.

  The enemy interpreted her hesitation as her ancient weakness, newly exposed, ready to be taken advantage of.

  'Jenny,' it said. The smile, the voice, the warmth - it was all Lauren. 'Jenny, you're alive! They said you were dead. Oh, let me hold you!'

  It took a step closer. Jennifer shook the crossbow. It halted. Jennifer realized it was using Lauren, letting her surface briefly. The joy on Lauren's face was genuine, and if Jennifer loosed the stake that joy would die and Lauren would die again. Of course, that was the eternal paradox -how to preserve the joy of one without killing the joy of another. The natural order was seemingly without purpose at times. The price now asked was beyond measure. If only to see Lauren again ... As indeed she saw her now.

  'No, Jenny!' Lauren cried when she saw Jennifer's finger reach the crossbow's trigger. Her eyes flooded with tears. 'I'm your sister. I'm not one of them. I need you. I need to touch you.'

  Lauren took another step forward.

  Jennifer put pressure on the trigger. Lauren stopped once more. In Jennifer's eyes, Lauren was clearly visible as a thin border of bluish-green light, shining forth from a colorless pit of agony. Memories stirred within Jennifer: Rankar's severed finger; the dying warriors; Janier sent on a mission beyond her strength; Lauren traveling to Mars

  ignorant of the curse. She was being called upon to make the same decision all over again!

  But also in Jennifer's vision was a black heart that opened like a hole into an abyss. She knew the entire world , could slip through that hole, and vanish.

  Lauren wept. 'Please don't kill me. Help me! Help me get away from them.'

  Jennifer heard the echo of the pain of mankind's childhood. She began to shake. Lauren moved slowly closer.

  'No,' Jennifer whispered. 'You're not my sister. You're not my sister!'

  That was not true. She was Lauren, in a way. The most cunning spell of all was the one that used the truth.

  'You're the only one who can understand, Jenny,' it said. 'I didn't want this. I didn't ask for it.' Lauren's tears sparkled in the candlelight. 'I know if you could just hold me, I would be healed.'

  She moved closer.

  'No,' Jennifer said, speaking to herself. The enemy's hands were reaching. The razor nails would scissor open her throat. Its steel-like fingers would crack her neck. Its hungry lips would suck her blood.

  Or would they? There was still room for doubt. There always was.

  'Lauren, they're lying,' Jennifer said. 'I can't heal you.' She began to weep, too. 'You're already dead.'

  Lauren was almost within arm's reach. Her eyes and soul pleaded for another chance, a thing seldom if ever granted when life and death were the issue. But Jennifer realized in that moment that she had to give Lauren that chance. She realized that, knowing she was risking billions of lives. If there was a possibility that she could save Lauren by the power of her touch...

  'Don't you know me?' Lauren asked pitifully.

  Jennifer lowered her crossbow.

  Instantly the tearful eyes vanished. The claws tore out. They ripped the air as they intended to open rip her throat, and let flow her blood, and the blood of her children. Jennifer did nothing. She had made her choice. Lauren was to be given another chance to decide, the chance Janier had been denied when Kratine had lied to her. And then it was too late for Jennifer to change her mind. The cold hands fastened on her neck. She was shaken off the ground. The candle was knocked from her hand. It fell to the floor and went out. The fire went out.

  Still Jennifer beheld the enemy's empty eyes and felt not a trace of fear. She felt only sadness. Tears gathered in her eyes. One slipped down her cheek and fell on the enemy's deformed right wrist.

  Then suddenly the pit was closed over. The grip loosened.

  Lauren's eyes had softened.

  Lauren was staring at her own hand. Jennifer's tear had trickled into her palm. The instant seemed frozen in eternity - the dark night glimpsed in a flash of lightning. Lauren was millions of miles away in space, pleading with her friend Gary to remember. Remember me. I loved you. And Lauren was in the forest beside her sister. Time had halted. Lauren turned and looked at Jennifer.

  ' My name is...'

  'Don't worry, I know your name.'

  A warm smile touched Lauren's lips. 'Jenny,' she whispered.

  Jennifer went to hug her sister.

  'No!' Lauren screamed. She sprang to her feet in panic. 'Shoot Shoot! It can't be stopped! Jenny!'

  A second chance, Jennifer thought, for herself as well. A

  second chance to have brought the fire earlier. To have gone instead of Janier to meet the attack. To have killed because it was necessary to kill. All these things Lauren already understood. Only Lauren's strength was exhausted.

  Before Jennifer could whip up the crossbow, the enemy returned in its own terror. The claws reached out. Jennifer had no time to aim properly. She had only begun to bring up the tip of the stake when she was forced to pull the trigger. Springing forward, the enemy caught the arrow in its lower abdomen. Its face contorted in agony. A hand that had been reaching for warm blood now grasped its own lifeless blood. It pulled uselessly at the stake as red gushed from the puncture onto the carpet. The enemy sagged to the floor. It kneeled before her, the wooden shaft stuck half a foot out its back. Jennifer stood silent, waiting.

  'You!' it cursed, spitting foul breath.

  Jennifer pointed at the floor. 'Leave us. You are not welcome here.'

  'Another will come,' it swore.

  And then the shadow passed.

  Lauren toppled forward. She curled into a ball of pain, trying to remove the stake that would kill her for the second time. Jennifer knelt by her side, in the blood.

  'Jenny?' Lauren moaned, trembling.

  Jennifer touched her sister's hands, and then touched where the stake had entered Lauren. Carefully, she began to draw away the pain. 'It's me,' she said. 'I've been waiting for you. You promised to come home and you did. You're home now.'

  'It was so cold,' Lauren whispered. 'I couldn't breathe.' Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Yet she was beginning to relax.

  'It's gone,' Jennifer said gently. 'Its season has passed.'

  Lauren's eyes cleared. She smiled faintly. 'It is you,

  Jenny. The papers said you were dead. They said...' A fit of coughing racked her body. 'They said the fire took you.'

  Jennifer smiled, too. 'I'm alive. I'm fine.'

  Lauren struggled to remove the ring from her hand. 'I brought this back for you.' She slipped the ring on Jennifer's finger. She, had fulfilled her promise, and completed the cycle. The ring's shine had not faded. It had grown brighter. Lauren coughed again. 'It's our secret.'

  Jennifer nodded. 'That's true.'

  With failing strength, Lauren reached up and touched Jennifer's curly hair, as she had done so often in the past. 'My Jenny,' she said, full of joy. 'My Princess.'

  Jennifer chuckled. 'My Warrior.' She loosened the canteen on
her shoulder, momentarily removing her hands from Lauren. She would wash the injury with the holy waters. 'You're going to be healed,' she promised. 'I have water from the ancient Garden. I can heal you.'

  But then Jennifer froze.

  Lauren had closed her eyes.

  Lauren was sleeping. Yes.

  Jennifer grabbed her sister's hands. 'Lauren? Lauren!'

  No.

  Lauren was dead.

  Forgetting that she was Queen of the Earth, Jennifer dropped her canteen and hugged the still body. Warm blood soaked her blue dress. But no matter how hard she hugged her sister, it made no difference. No miracle occurred. Her sister was gone.

  Jennifer remembered Lauren awakening from a bad dream on a warm sunny day, calling her name.

  Jennifer rose slowly and moved to Terry's side, where she knelt once more. She cradled his head in her hands. His skull was cracked. He had a brain hemorrhage. She bathed his forehead with the waters Jim had collected. She

  hummed soft words of healing and put her hand over his heart. Presently he opened his eyes.

  'Jenny?' he said.

  She nodded. 'I told you I wouldn't forget you.'

  He smiled weakly. 'Where have you been?'

  'I've been here. I've been there.' Her face darkened. 'I have to heal you.'

  'All right.'

  'You have to want to live.'

  He understood. He closed his eyes. 'Lauren's dead.'

  'Yes.'

  He tried to brush her hand off his heart. 'Let me go.'

  'I love you, Terry.'

  'Let me go.'

  She leaned over. She let the tears of her cheek touch his bloody cheek. 'I can't,' she whispered in his ear. 'I can never let go. That's what makes me who I am.'

  He drew in a breath. 'Are you really Chaneen?'

  'Yes.'

  'Are you God?'

  'I am a Goddess. I am your Goddess.'

  He opened his frightened eyes. 'Will you stay with me then?'

  She sat up. 'Yes.' She put her hand over his eyes. 'Now close your eyes. Rest. Forget what has happened here. It was only a dream. It was nothing.' She glanced toward Lauren. And the blood. A smoky wind was blowing out of the east. The night was on fire. Her children were dying. She listened to Terry's heartbeat as it began to fade. She closed her own eyes and let her own heart do the same. She let the air go out of her body. But then she felt a change in the direction of the wind. The season was changing, it was true. She could feel it. The wind was coming out of the west now and she could smell the ancient ocean. She drew in a