He roared and flew across the gap between them. Billi dodged sideways, caught her foot on uneven concrete and crashed down hard. She raised the sword, but Kay slammed his boot into her wrist; the nerves screamed and went numb. Tears swelled and through the blur she saw the Silver Sword hurtle away.
Too fast, how did -
His foot hit her chest like an iron sledgehammer. She gasped, breathing in jagged ice and fire; her ribs cracked.
‘Kay. Please,’ she murmured. Her head was tumbling, her legs loose like wet rope.
He’s too strong.
I can’t stop him.
‘Kay, don’t.’
‘What, don’t you like it? Why not? All this is thanks to you.’ He hoisted her up, one handed. ‘Because of you.’
He gave a broken, insane laugh. Billi saw red teardrops sprinkle his cheeks. He lowered his head against her and whispered. ‘I can’t bear it. It’s too much.’ He raised his head and grinned maniacally. ‘Help me. I want to kill you so much.’ He punched her in the face.
Billi blacked out.
She could taste the metallic-edged blood, her blood, swilling in her mouth. She opened her eyes, but her vision reeled and the ceiling above spun round and round. She couldn’t get up. She lay among the debris, barely able to move. ‘Kay, I’m so sorry.’ She slid her hands out, hoping to find something to help her up. Her right palm touched steel, cold, hard, familiar.
The Silver Sword.
Slowly, they both looked at it. A stream of power dribbled through her palm into her arm. Her grip firmed.
Then relaxed.
‘I can’t,’ she said.
Not Kay.
‘Take it, Billi.’ He stared at her, eyes blazing with madness. His fingers were hooked like talons and he snarled. Tears, thick and red, smeared his face. ‘I can’t stop myself.’ He grabbed her and Billi witnessed the struggle within him. ‘You have to do it,’ he whispered. ‘Stop me.’
Kay had been true, to her, to them both. He’d given his soul, damned himself, to save her. In that moment she looked at him and she knew what the prophecy meant.
She will sacrifice the one she loves to save them.
It wasn’t about her dad.
It was Kay.
Billi’s hand tightened round the sword hilt.
‘Forgive me, Kay.’
The groan escaping his lips rose like a banshee wail. The sky turned white with lightning and she saw him, saw him as close and as clearly as she’d seen anyone.
The soft, gentle contours of his jaw, the downy white hairs on his chin, his lips. She could still feel their touch on hers.
Billi closed her eyes. There was warmth from the blade, the pain receded and dawn was coming.
‘Finish it!’ screamed Michael.
Kay dropped to his knees. He cradled her and wrapped his hand round hers and the sword hilt.
Billi settled herself in his lap. She looked into his eyes and saw courage there. She had to be as brave as Kay, if the firstborn were to be saved. If Michael was to be stopped a sacrifice was needed.
They looked at each other, and he gently pressed his lips to hers.
‘Do it, Billi,’ he whispered.
Billi’s hand trembled, but Kay tightened his round hers and together they held the sword steady. He pulled her tightly against him, squeezing his lips hard against hers. A thin rasp of air slipped through.
‘Goodbye,’ he said.
Billi pushed the sword into Kay’s heart.
Blood erupted from the wound and Kay’s body went limp. Billi pulled the sword out and it slipped from her fingers as she cradled his collapsing body. She pressed her hands over the wound.
‘It’s OK, Billi.’
Thick, sticky blood clogged her hands and soaked his shirt. Kay choked; frothy red bubbles burst from his mouth and nostrils.
It’s OK, Billi.
‘Kay,’ she whispered. His scarlet hands cupped her face, and held her steady. The bloody handprints were warm against her face. Handprints like her mother had left on her bedroom door. She looked into his eyes, willing him to hang on. It didn’t matter how long, but every second was one second more.
‘I’m sorry, Kay,’ she said. He was dying, but she wanted to know every last moment.
He stared back, eyes clear, focused. His bloody mouth split into a smile, that secret smile.
Beautiful.
His last breath was just a sigh. She stared, waiting, waiting for him to breathe, just a little.
Just a little.
Please, Kay.
Just a little.
But nothing came.
Billi squeezed his body against hers. She covered his lips with hers, tasting the salty blood, vainly hoping for the slightest breath.
But nothing came.
She looked at him, but Kay was gone. Those big blue eyes faded, open but empty. He wasn’t looking at her any more. She heard the scrape of metal sliding on the stone floor, and the creak of a foot on timber. A shadow fell over her. She didn’t look round.
‘What d’you think he sees, with eyes so wide?’ she asked.
The cold, silver blade touched her cheek. ‘You will know soon enough,’ said Michael.
Billi raised her head. Michael held the Silver Sword to her throat. He looked at her, not with triumph, but a strange resignation. Like he’d always known it would end like this.
Billi touched her cheek and felt Kay’s sticky blood marking her, protecting her, just as her mother’s had done. She stared at the dark red stains on her fingers, and stopped.
Her mother had known how to stop Michael. He hadn’t abandoned Billi that night he’d come to their home. He couldn’t reach her. Jamila had marked the door with the blood of sacrifice.
Back then, her mother had died to save her, and now, Kay had too. She pressed her bloody fingers against her lips. Kay had died to prove his prophecy right, and now it was her turn. But if she was wrong she would die. Strangely she didn’t mind.
Kay would be waiting.
‘It’s better this way,’ said Michael.
‘Just do it.’
The sword bolted up and swept down. Billi held Kay against her heart as the blow struck.
The Silver Sword shattered into thousands of sparkling lights, a silent eruption of diamond stars that blew bright, then gently vanished, gone before they touched the ground.
There was a sting on her neck, and she could feel the warm trickle of blood rolling down her cold skin.
She touched the wound: a small, shallow cut. Shallow, but she knew she’d bear it forever. She turned towards Michael. He stared blankly at his hand, the sword utterly gone.
‘How?’ muttered Michael.
Sacrificial blood. The most powerful magic there is; that was what Elaine had said. Michael stumbled away, shaking his head. Lightning flashed and the building shook with thunder. The huge steel columns groaned and cracks erupted along the concrete. The Jews of ancient Egypt had protected their homes with the blood of sacrifice and the Angel of Death could not cross.
The Watchers’ one immutable law.
‘You should have Passed Over, Michael,’ Billi said as she cradled Kay. Michael had tried to cross a barrier protected by Kay’s sacrificial blood. ‘You broke covenant.’
The look of horror said it all. Michael raised his offending hand and wailed. He tore at his rain-sodden hair and ran his nails deep into his cheeks. Throwing his arms up towards the heavens he pleaded, ‘Forgive me! Forgive me!’
Lightning shattered the sky, ripping apart the dense curtain of clouds. The sky filled with unbearable brightness and the roar was deafening. The wind almost threw Billi over as it swept across the city. Deep within this cyclone Billi heard a million voices crying and caught in the centre she saw Michael, his essence evaporating in the knife-edged strips being carved off him. He stumbled and cringed beneath the onslaught; down on his knees he begged.
‘God Almighty!’ he screamed, and then it consumed him, his scream dying away into the chorus of the damned tempest.
Billi hugged Kay as the storm raged, but its brightness, too fierce and too powerful to linger, sucked into itself, and when she finally opened her eyes it was dawn, true dawn. The storm had passed and through the clouds she saw daylight at last. She looked into the sun, tingling with the warmth of a new day. ‘God Almighty indeed.’