Resurgam

They followed the sound of Lamia's voice, using it almost like a rope to guide them through the network of tunnels, Clara barely able to walk now. Flynn glanced worriedly over his shoulder at her, before holding out his hand, Clara taking it, almost against her will. Eve averted her face, looking oddly hurt, making Clara feel guilty. She knew Eve had developed some sort of reluctant crush on Flynn, but despite the guilt, it was the least of Clara's worries right now, Eve's amour appearing almost ridiculous in her eyes.

..."We have achieved the goal of returning magic to the world," Lamia intoned, her voice echoing oddly around the tunnel, "so stand before me, my brethren, and join me in honouring our master's victory..."

"Somebody please pass me a sick bucket," Ezekiel whispered, pretending to vomit violently.

"Over here, idiot!" Flynn hissed, grabbing Ezekiel by the shirt collar and hauling him back, dragging Clara in his wake. The others followed him, their faces pale in the flickering gloom. Flynn snatched the wine bottle from Ezekiel's fingers, before setting it down on the uneven ground with a snap of his teeth, glancing over his shoulder at where Lamia still held court unseen, her voice now leading a chorus of voices.

"Okay, we're going to have to go in there and grab that Crown," Flynn said, making the obvious, obvious.

"But they're going to kill us if we do," Jacob pointed out, making the obvious even more obvious.

"We have Eve," Ezekiel suggested helpfully.

"We do, but she's not enough," Flynn said, struggling to keep his temper.

"But she's an arsenal in human form!" Ezekiel protested.

"But not inhuman," Flynn said testily, making Eve roll her eyes.

"So-what-do-we-do-then?" Clara asked, wincing with pain.

"I don't know," Flynn snapped, letting go of her hand. "Do you have any amazing ideas we can use?"

"I have some ideas," Cassandra said nervously from somewhere close by, her voice oddly muffled.

They all looked at each other, startled, before turning and going round a corner they hadn't explored yet, only to find Cassandra sitting in a cage, the sight startling them even further. She awkwardly fluttered her fingers at them, looking childishly shamefaced. Ezekiel grinned, the only one to show any sign of being pleased to see her again. "Hello kid," he said, folding his arms over his chest, "how's it hanging?"

"Not very well," she admitted. "But as I was saying, I have some ideas" -

- "No way," Jacob snapped, "not after you sold us out like that."

Cassandra paled under the onslaught of his anger, her blue gaze falling upon Clara instead, her lower lip trembling. "I never meant for you to get hurt, Clara," she said quietly and with difficulty, "please forgive me."

Clara looked at her for a long moment, her own mouth trembling. "Lamia-didn't-just-hurt-me-,-Cassie," she said just as quietly and with even more difficulty, "she- killed-me."

Cassandra straightened up, her brow furrowing. "But you're here," she almost argued, gesturing to Clara, "you're walking and talking..." Her voice faded into nothing as Clara pulled back Flynn's blazer, revealing her blood-stained dress, Cassandra looking like she was going to faint. "Oh my," she squeaked stupidly, tears pooling in her eyes, "I... I don't know what to say," she stuttered, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Well, don't say anything, then," Jacob said cruelly, before turning away, angrily wiping his eyes with his suit sleeve.

"We don't have time for this melodrama!" Flynn hissed in an oddly high pitched voice, glancing nervously over his shoulder, half expecting to see Lamia and her horde descending upon them at any moment.

"Come on, kid," Ezekiel said hastily, stepping forwards and springing Cassandra out of the cage, the others giving him a wide berth as he did.

"So what's the big idea, then?" Flynn demanded, stepping in front of Clara, almost shielding her from Cassandra's guilty gaze.

Cassandra stood there for a moment, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights, before shaking herself back into semblance. "Follow me," she said, before taking off, prancing down the dark tunnel, the others following her with some trepidation, Flynn taking Clara's hand again. "Okay, so that's the drill and that's the ice water cooler," she said, slowing to a stop, pointing in all directions at super speed, forgetting nobody but Flynn could keep up with her, "and that's the warm air recycler and that's the electrical wires and that's the generator and then there's the metal pipes" –

- "Okay, okay, I get it," Flynn interrupted, the others obviously not getting it, "distraction, then action, and this is so going to work!" He did a little jig of joy on the spot, Clara tearing her hand out of his, unable to bear being jolted so.

"You sure about that, Carsen?" Jacob said sceptically.

"Yes, but it's going to take all of us," Flynn said, suddenly serious, "starting with you, Stone."

"Me?" Jacob said, even more sceptical now.

"Yes you, my bronco riding buffoon," Flynn said, rolling his eyes, "you're going to re-route that ice water cooler into the warm air recycler, because that's going to be our cover."

Jacob nodded, finally getting it, the others still not getting it.

"You said it would take all of us," Ezekiel said, stepping forwards.

"You're going to hack that generator, rewire it and make the alternating current super spinach strong," Flynn instructed, grabbing Clara's hand again, much to Eve's annoyance, "and when I yell, you'll add the frequency Cassandra gives you, savvy?"

"Savvy," Ezekiel and Cassandra said in odd unison.

"Eve, I need you be the final distraction," Flynn said to her, his gaze locking with hers. "You as well, Jacob."

"Got it," Eve agreed, finally getting it, Jacob rolling up his suit sleeves.

"What-about-me?" Clara whispered, swaying slightly.

"You're going to get the Crown, Hartley," Flynn said, smoothing her hair back, "just like you always wanted."

Eve threw herself headfirst into the melee, Jacob hard on her high heels, Flynn and Clara slipping into the room unseen, the smoke cloaking them from sight. After several steps, they suddenly separated, Flynn dropping one final kiss on the back of Clara's hand, and then he was gone, leaving her alone amongst the chaos. Where Flynn went, Clara didn't know, and she didn't care, some unknown force drawing her onwards, steering her into the centre of the room, the din dimming into silence, surrounding her on all sides.

Time seemed to slow down, then speed up, Clara's vision becoming filled with a clarity that it never had before, death receding into the darkness. It was like she was the only one in existence, the ruler of all, acknowledging nothing but her own will. As she moved, the smoke swirled around her ankles, almost giving fealty. She slowed to a stop at the sight of Flynn lying on the floor, Lamia standing over him, her sword raised, the Crown atop her proud head, the Sword back in the Stone, once more in alignment...

Clara tilted her head to one side, remembering almost from another life reaching for the Crown back at the Library, Flynn slapping her hand aside, the memory angering her. She raised that same hand, her fingers flexing, her eyes turning violet - they would not stop her now, not ever. There was a scream, then a flash of silver, and after all these years, all those centuries spent suffocating, suffering, the Crown was finally hers again, the burnished metal cold against her dying flesh. Clara carefully placed the Crown atop her brow, closing her eyes, savouring her victory.

"Resurgam," she whispered, her eyes flying open. With a swift flourish, everything froze around her, everything but Flynn and Lamia, the latter dropping her sword, the handle scorching her skin, Guinevere smiling, enjoying, as always, another's pain.

"Clara," Flynn began, only to fall silent, Guinevere tilting her head to the side again.

"You did not know," she said quietly, stepping forwards, "but you started to suspect, did you not? You saw the storm within, the storm that should not be."

Flynn just stared at her, still unable to speak.

"But whilst you suspected, the Library knew," Guinevere continued, circling him, "it knew all along. It thought it could save Clara from me, but it couldn't, because that is precisely the problem - Clara and I are in alignment, we are one, like the stars, like the Sword in the Stone. There cannot be one without the other, we cannot be torn asunder."

"Excalibur," Flynn whispered.

"Excalibur knew," Guinevere said, "he still fears me, even after all these centuries." She stared into the distance, her dark eyes darkening even further. "You said the Library wouldn't let me live," she said, turning to face Flynn again, "that it was in my soul. But that was the mistake it made. Death merely acted as a drawbridge, allowing me to cross through Clara into this realm again."

"Who are you?" Lamia hissed.

"I am the daughter of Ogrfan Gawr," Guinevere smiled.

"It's all in the name," Flynn said with great difficulty, "hidden in plain sight."

"He will never love you," Guinevere told Lamia, ignoring Flynn, "not while I haunt his heart."

Lamia just stared at her, her face distorted by disbelief.

"And his son," Guinevere said, turning away from them all, "still living in his father's shadow..." She looked at the tableau before her, the figures frozen in mid-fight, her gaze dwelling on Jacob and Eve the most, the expression in her eyes flickering between thoughtfulness and fear. "One doomed by her gift, one who fled from his gift, one who abuses it, one who is denied it," she whispered, her fists clenching by her side, "and then there is she who started sin..."

"Excalibur!" Flynn suddenly shouted, reaching out for his friend.

"No!" Guinevere cried, raising her hand, the sword stilling in mid-air. Almost against its will, the sword then came to her, whimpering, quivering, its blade bending, arcing away from her outstretched fingers. "Do not fear me, old friend," she soothed, "it is I, your queen, your death."

"No," Flynn echoed, staggering to his feet, "you're nothing."

"Am I?" Guinevere smiled seductively. "In your eyes, I'm not. In fact, I am quite... something to you. I've seen you looking, Flynn Carsen, you importunate jester."

Flynn flushed hotly, his shoulders hunching.

"So are you going to give me your epic speech now, Flynn?" Guinevere said, her smile growing wider. "How Clara would win this war by knowledge, and not by shedding blood. But she started this war by shedding her own blood, restoring me to my birth-right" -

- "And it's you who denied Clara hers," Flynn said from between gritted teeth.

"No, it is you who denied Clara her gift," Guinevere said, shaking her head, "you tried to stop her at every turn from accepting her fate. It is you who the prophecy speaks of, not I."

Flynn just stared at her, his face contorted by hatred.

"My soul is composed of many shades," Guinevere said quietly, "and not all of them dark." She drew Excalibur to her, her fingers tightening around his handle. "Yet hate rules me," she said, her grip tightening, "as I would rule this world." Excalibur let out a scream, Flynn flinching, trying and failing to reach his friend. "This sword was wielded by one who sought to subjugate me," Guinevere hissed, "and it shall not. I will not let it!"

But as she drained the life out of Excalibur, her face paled, her eyes widening in shock. She fell to her knees, letting go of the sword, but too late, the damage was done. She had torn the Sword asunder and herself with it, a mistake she should not have made, a folly she should have foreseen. But hate had ruled her, blinding her, dooming her, damning her. As the magic returned to the earth, the life faded from her eyes, her hand reaching hopelessly for the horizon she had sought to conquer. A shadow fell across her, a shadow that should not be...

"Death didn't set you free," Flynn said, standing over her, "it just dragged you out of the darkness and into the light."

When Clara came to, it was only to find Flynn's anxious face inches from her own, her heart beating like a hummingbird. She knew without knowing that she was about to cross the divide, her feet touching the shores of the River Styx. She struggled to sit up, her hand unconsciously reaching for Excalibur, the gesture striking Flynn in the heart.

"Cal?" she whispered, confused at seeing the sword so still.

"He... he's gone," Flynn said, his voice cracking.

Clara slumped back, the ghost of guilt flickering through her heart, even as she didn't understand it. "The - the Crown?" she asked, her breath fading from her.

"You did it," Flynn said, tears filling his eyes, "you stopped them."

Clara sighed heavily, feeling as though a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. The others approached, Cassandra hanging back. Lamia had fled, not wanting to comprehend what Clara had become, what it would mean for her. Flynn had taken the Crown from Clara, concealing it from her sight, just as he would conceal who she really was from the others. That would be his burden to bear, nobody else's.

Cassandra kneeled down in front of Clara, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Clara frowned, her lips struggling to frame an answer, the last of her life fading from her. The world was drowning in darkness, pulling her under, dragging her down. Her eyes fluttered shut, her hand failing to find Flynn's, her arm slumping to her side. Flynn stood up, swaying on the spot, his face bloodless. Eve reached out to him, but he suddenly lashed out at her, his face oddly feral.

"Don't," he hissed, "don't touch me."

The others looked down at the ground, averting their gaze away from where Clara lay, Ezekiel wrapping his arms around his head, Jacob suddenly booting the wall, making them all jump violently. Cassandra stared at Clara, struggling with herself, wrestling with her guilt and her desire. She wanted to live but she hadn't wanted Clara to die for it.

"Oh God," Cassandra breathed, before closing her eyes and pressing the palms of her hands against Clara's still heart, an aureole of azure light engulfing them both. As the light faded, Clara jerked back into being, Cassandra slumping sideways, Ezekiel rushing to catch her, Flynn throwing himself down beside Clara, his face filled with disbelief.

"What the hell did you just do!?" he demanded, struggling to steady Clara.

"The Brotherhood gave me life," Cassandra said weakly, "so I gave Clara the same gift."

"Oh, Cassie," Jacob said quietly, kneeling down beside her.

"Clara saved me," Cassandra whispered, "you all saved me." She glanced round at their puzzled faces, offering them each a wobbly smile. "For once I felt I belonged, you know?" she explained, her lower lip trembling. "I wasn't the odd one out anymore."

A silence fell in the wake of her words, Clara burying her face in Flynn's shoulder, her hand finally finding his.

Darkness cover me
Deny everything
Slowly walk away
To breathe again
On my own...