Inside, her anger was an icy dagger.
She would never let Jack see it. For him she felt only love and gratitude…but to any who would presume to toy with him…with his love for her, and their child…she felt a kind of rage she had never known.
She wondered at the change in herself. Had there been a time, truly, when she might have feared Darkness? Or succumbed to the temptations he offered? If so, it was only a memory. Where ambiguity and desire laced with fear had existed now there was only cold resolve.
Darkness had not come for him again, Jack swore, but they both knew that he could, at any time. Perhaps the next day, perhaps many years from now. She could not force Jack to endure the agony of unknowing.
Lily had also had dreams of the Great Tree, in the very beginning, though she had never told Jack. She had learned, somehow, to close off her mind to those dreams, immersing herself in her love of Jack and her new life to the point where nothing could invade the space of her sleep. She knew now that she could teach Jack to do the same, should the need arise.
But she needed more than a shield. So now she opened herself again, one last time.
She saw the hall as Jack had seen it, faint light illuminating tall pillars, the black marble floor, the twisted throne. She wore black, her hair dark and hanging in ringlets, her nails sharp and painted. But the hall was empty, with not the slightest sensation in her mind of another presence.
Lily sighed. I know you're here.
More silence. Lily was weary of games, but she would play this last one, if she must. She sat herself upon the throne.
Finally the walls seemed to hiss slightly, and a hundred tiny shadows gathered themselves on the floor before her, rising up to form a red, angular body that smiled confidently at her.
"My lady." He reached out to take her hand, and she withdrew it. His eyes betrayed only the slightest hint of surprise. "A pleasure to be in your presence again."
She stared at him, half expecting to feel some sense of confusion, for his presence to excite and entice her as it once had, to break down the barriers she had so carefully built. There was nothing. Only the ice within her.
He sensed it, she was sure. She wondered if he would simply take her, relying on violence and force if words and temptation failed him. But she suddenly realized that that was never what he had wanted. He lived for conflict, for the drawing out of repressed desires, for the body that was willing even as the words were not. And in her, he must now see, the wellspring had run dry.
He tried, of course. "Did your Jack tell you of his betrayal, my lady?" An image flickered in front of her eyes, one that did, at least for a moment, make her wince. Darkness smiled at this small triumph. "Did he tell you how he doubted you, and of what he gave to me willingly?"
She met his eyes, not flinching from the images that he forced her to see. "Yes."
Only a single word. But it was enough. It spoke of a range of emotion that Darkness could never truly understand. Understand, perhaps, but never experience.
It hit him like a blow. The image in front of her eyes abruptly dissolved. His eyes glowed red.
"Do you think this a victory, little kitten? Would you presume to toy with me? Do you think your resolve means anything to me, anything to one who has lived and died a thousand times and uses up playthings like you and your Jack in every lifetime?"
He reached out suddenly and gripped her shoulders, pulling her off the throne, his talons digging painfully into her flesh. "I could crush you in an instant…flay you to pieces if I so desired, condemn you never to return to the waking world…"
He could, she knew, and the momentary fear made her tremble as she forced herself not to turn away. But he would not, she realized. She was of no use to him dead. And her death would also deprive him of Jack, who would have no interest in games where the only prize was already lost. He could only threaten, and he knew it.
She smiled at him and summoned up enough emotion that he would taste it in the air. It was not rage, or resolve, or even the self-satisfaction that she now felt filling her.
It was pity.
He snarled and pushed her back toward the throne, backing away from her as though she had flung acid in his face. He raged at her in a half-human tongue, sending a cascade of images into her mind, filling the dark hall with fire, but she withstood it all, and when finally all the images faded and the hall was dark again she knew she that the game was over.
One of the pillars seemed to crack, and as she watched it slowly crumbled in front of her, followed by another, and another. The twisted throne splintered and fell in pieces to the floor.
He cried out as the dream began to fade. "I have lived a thousand lives…"
She smiled as he raged, a smile not without the sadness that comes from seeing the fall of gods.
You have lived a thousand lives…and we have vanquished you with one.
The hall crumbled around her with a deafening crash, and she felt her body return to her bed, to the warmth of Jack and her child, to the peace of dreamless sleep and doubtless waking.