The Queen of sinister

'Cannnnooottttttt… leawwwwe. Boyyyyyy… stayyyyyy. Beyondddd… liessssssssss… deathhhhhhhhhh.'

And there it was, finally, what she had been expecting for so long: the twist in the devil's contract. Liam hadn't been returned to life — he was simply caught in limbo. If she took him out of the House of Pain, his death would once again be a reality.

'Youuuuuuuuuuu… staaaaayyyyyyyyy. Beeeeeeeee… Queeeeeennnnnnnnn…'

Caitlin was numb. Inside her, Amy, Briony and Brigid howled into the storm. There was no way out. 'Yes,' she said. 'I'll stay.'

She held Liam close and walked back towards the warp field. While her back had been turned, the House of Pain had created a seat of shiny black stone, the perfect throne for the Queen of Sinister. Caitlin swallowed hard so her voice would be steady and then called to Mahalia, 'Go on. I'll be OK.' Mahalia stared in disbelief, then grabbed Jack's arm and hauled him through the doorway. Caitlin felt pleased the girl had got away, and with Jack, the one who still meant there was a chance for her. That small success provided the thinnest glimmer of light in the dark existence that stretched before Caitlin.

Desolately, she walked up to the seat and sat down. It was icily cold, but soon that wouldn't matter. She looked out across the army — her army — and knew now why they waited: for their queen.

Her fate was clear. An iciness was creeping into her limbs, the legacy of the House of Pain, transforming her into something that could live in that place, revelling in the dark emotions it generated. She would sit on that cold, black throne for evermore, commanding her army of the dead, with her son standing silently at her side until the stars winked out one by one and all that was left was the Void. Mahalia and Jack raced past the last of the Lament-Brood, through the next room and into the network of tunnels that cut through the House of Pain.

'We could go back for Caitlin,' Jack said. 'We can't leave her here.'

'She chose to stay — she's a grown woman.' Mahalia tried to sound hard so that Jack wouldn't find a chink that would prise her back, but inside she was devastated. Not so long ago she had tried to kill her, yet now she mourned Caitlin. What was wrong with her?

Jack appeared to sense what was going through her head, for he grabbed her hand as they ran and gave it a squeeze. 'I'm glad you're here,' he said quietly. His honest expression of emotion brought a lump to her throat.

'You want a dirty job doing, I'm your girl.'

They broke out into the main corridor that led to the entrance. Through the massive doorway, late afternoon sun glowed like a beacon.

'What are we going to do now?' Jack said. 'One more thing before we leave, then…' Mahalia looked across the plain to the panorama of the Land of Always Summer stretching out across the horizon. '… we've got a whole world to play with.'

She came to an abrupt halt not far from the entrance and began to search the wall. Finally she found what she was looking for, and forced her hands into one of the nearly hidden slits that gave access to the capillary tunnel system. 'Come on, give me a hand,' she called.

Without understanding what he was doing, Jack thrust his hands into the slit alongside her and felt something alive inside. Before he could recoil or question, Mahalia was hauling whatever it was out into the corridor and he was helping her.

There was a sucking sound and Crowther emerged, as pale as death and covered in blood, the spear still embedded in him but now broken off on both sides. Yet he was still alive — but only just. His eyes flickered and the faintest wheeze of breath escaped his lips.

'He was planning to do something heroic, but it was so out of character I couldn't let him,' Mahalia said. 'So I dragged him away and stashed him in there.'

'Why?' Jack could see that the professor was only a whisker away from death.

'Because I had an idea.' Mahalia faced Jack, her arms on his shoulders to focus his attention on her face. 'Call me stupid, but I found this thing called hope. It was something I'd not bothered with before, but when you're down to your last, you take anything you've got, right?'

He saw that same hope in her frightened eyes and felt more in love with her than he had thought possible. 'What's your idea?' 'That power inside you… the Wish-Hex. Everybody talks about it like it's some doomsday weapon, but I've seen you use it and I thought, maybe it's not just useful for destroying things. It's a kind of energy, like that Blue Fire everyone was always wittering on about. Maybe it's one and the same thing. And… and…' She leaned forward to kiss him quickly. 'I want you to try to use it to save the professor.'

Jack looked down at Crowther in dismay. 'I don't think I can.'

'Just try, Jack. For me.'

Hesitantly, he knelt down beside the prone form and cradled the professor's head in his hands. His brow knitted in concentration, and the light leaked out of his stomach and flowed into his arms and then his hands.

Mahalia watched Jack for fifteen minutes as he battled with the stream of energy, directing it, forcing it to his will. Sweat dripped from his forehead and soaked his underarms and back. For all that time, it appeared to be doing little good, for the professor continued to hover on the brink of dying; but then, gradually, colour drifted back into his cheeks and his eyes began to flicker.

Mahalia leaned forward and yanked the remaining stub of the spear from his chest. It came out with a sucking sound, but instead of a gout of blood there was only white light. As the light cleared, Mahalia could see the hole in the professor begin to close.

Five minutes later it was all over. Jack flopped back, exhausted but beaming with the wonder of what he had done. The professor moaned and then slowly opened his eyes. He looked up into Mahalia's face.

'Oh,' he said. 'This must be hell.'

'Looks like you've got some use after all, boy,' Mahalia said to Jack. Her heart swelled at the depth of feeling etched on his face; he knew now that he wasn't just a weapon, that his lifetime of suffering might have had some positive outcome after all.

But as she and Jack struggled to help Crowther to his feet, a shadow fell across them. Mahalia looked up suddenly. 'Who the hell are you?' she said in astonishment.

*

In the hot steam of the sacred spring, Mary clasped her hands and pleaded. 'I'll do whatever it takes. Please, if there's anything you can do to save her…'

'You will do anything?' The Goddess was serious and contemplative. 'What does this sister mean to you?'

'What does she mean?' The question was curious and unsettling; there was so much to sum up. How to decide what one person meant when their impact on your life was complex and inscrutable. 'She means… the future.' Once Mary had latched on to that word, her thoughts quickly fell into place. 'I've had my time — I know I've got a lot of years left, but I made such a mess of things so long ago, it's impossible to go back now. I never thought about having children. Perhaps if I had, there might have been a chance for me. If I'd made them into good people, then I'd have done something worthwhile. But I've not done anything that really matters. If I was wiped off the face of the earth right now, I'd leave nothing behind that anyone would remember. But Caitlin… she's my daughter in all but flesh. She's my hope for the future. If I save her, and she does good, then at least I've added something to life.' The words were painful to express, but Mary recognised their abiding truth as they left her lips.

'I can help her, but what is required is beyond even my capabilities. There are rules of Existence that we all must follow.' The Goddess raised one hand and it appeared that it was night in the spring and the moonlight was streaming all around, the world painted silver and black. 'A sacrifice will be the key to unlock the door. Are you prepared to make that sacrifice?'