Many thanks to Fran.


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Chapter Ten

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The sun is high in the sky, the sea uneasy. The wind whips through the volcanic soil, throwing up dirt and rock, and the steep slopes don't welcome humans.

Bella has buried Esme on an outcropping in the rock, where trees and grass cling to the surface. The wind is loud up here, but there is enough shelter that the dozen of them can stand without being blown off.

Bella closes her eyes and pictures Jane—pictures her golden eyes as they stood in the Council Chambers and placed their brooms together, slitting their palms in unison, sharing blood.

She can feel Jane, across the island, prepared to do her own ritual. They are twins, one on the north, one on the south, each doing their part.

Around her are people she trusts - trusts that they too want what she does. Trusts that for this moment, they share the same purpose.

Edward.

Jake, tail high, circling.

Heidi.

Zafrina.

Rose.

Alec.

Bree.

Aro.

Sasha.

Kebi.

And finally, Tia, with Carlisle. Standing next to a dug-up grave and not even realising what it is. The box that serves as Esme's coffin has barely begun degrading, the wooden slates only now beginning to bend from the moisture.

Jane and Maria are leading a ritual with Jasper from the Council Chambers, protecting the island, creating a barrier using the vortex itself to shield the innocent humans, and worst comes to worst, contain any blast to the island itself. It is the only way. There are not enough of them. Even the students will need to help, letting the older witches feed off their magic, sharing it as one.

"Carlisle?"

He finds himself in the middle of their circle, Tia at his side, and he swallows heavily, shoulders hunched. He looks beaten, uncertain. Bella is not sure he has enough mental faculties to understand what is about to happen, but she has to try.

He has little of his own life left, she tells herself.

"I—me. That's me. Isn't it?" Red eyes try to focus on Bella, but he can't hold her gaze. He twitches, then scratches at the ruby embedded into his skin, mumbling something Bella cannot understand.

"We are going to try to free you of the darkness. Do you understand that, Carlisle?" Bella turns to Tia, hoping she can pull him into something equalling reason, but she is staring down at the ground, swaying in time with the wind. "We will try to keep you alive, Carlisle, but if your body is too far gone, it is possible you will not survive. Do you understand what I'm telling you? You might die."

"I—I want Esme." He spins in place, as if expecting to see Esme's face among the people now encircling him. The crystal in his forehead flickers mutely. "Is she here?"

"There is no point," Aro concludes. "The sooner we begin, the sooner he will be free."

He is right.

This is not the time for bleeding hearts.

"Everyone clear on their role?" Bella asks, cloaking her heart in iron-bindings. Conscience, emotion, and fear have to be put to the side. She finally thinks she understands Jane's words from before…how she needs to learn to harness her strength when calm.

She understands now. She didn't before. Now she has someone to protect—a future to protect. In order to keep that future safe, there are no lengths she will not go to.

"Tia, sister?" Tia does not even hear her. Bella takes a step forward, lifting the handle of her broom to Tia's face, lifting her chin. Bella's broom is laced with both her own and Jane's magic, and the power of the Coven's rulers shock Tia into a semblance of understanding.

"Yes?"

"You will not like this; we will need to harm Carlisle. You cannot interfere. I am sorry." With a push of Bella's hand, she drives Tia away from Carlisle, using her magic to force her into the line of witches that has formed.

Tia has time to protest before Aro's binding spell hits her, and she is on her knees, bound, skin aglow with light as her magic is pulled in two, part bound, part holding back Carlisle's darkness. She whimpers, trying to fight the invisible bonds, but Bella does not allow herself to look.

"Form a circle. Wizards, take your places."

Bella stands in the middle, the coffin and Carlisle forming a triangle. Around her, Tia, Bree, Heidi, Sasha, Kebi, Zafrina, and Rose space themselves evenly. Bella's eyes linger on Rose, but Bella cannot acknowledge the fear there. She is holding the broom she would've been Initiated with; she is closer to being a witch than she ever has been - Bree and Rose both. Even uninitiated, their potential is stronger than most of the witches that are left. Edward, Aro, and Alec space themselves to match the inner triangle, and they are ready, staffs standing tall, brooms held together.

Bella closes her eyes, her broom in one hand, a silver chalice in the other, filled with the pearlescent potion. It is some of Bella's best work. The clarity; the strength. She only hopes it will be enough.

On the other side of the island, Bella feels Jane starting her own ritual. Her broom grows hot, still linked to its twin.

When Bella opens her eyes to stare at Carlisle, her eyes are gold.

"It is time."

She lets her broom fall to the side, floating. With a flick of his tail, Jake jumps up, balancing on the broom handle. Yellow eyes watch the closed coffin.

Bella looks up, and a shimmer across the sky means the barrier has been placed around them.

Bella kneels, placing the chalice on the ground. She grabs the athame from her belt, still as cold as it was the day she killed Esme the first time.

"Prepare yourself," she calls. "Edward, open the coffin."

A gust of white magic and the coffin creaks open.

There is nothing weak about her when she looks down at the half-decayed corpse of the woman she once loved. Maggots and half-gone skin have left the flesh rotten, the smell permeating the air and causing most of them to cough. Bella does not have that luxury. She is close enough to see Esme's eyes, the eyelids putrid and sinews torn, showing focused, brilliant red eyes, staring right at her.

Her heart is stone; her calm unflappable. She is magic. And she needs to finish this.

"Mother mine, Hear my plea," Bella begins.
"Grant my mentor what I see,
"My wish made whole,
"Take back what she stole."

At her back, she feels the wizard's magic, working in unison, propping up her words. The magic swirls, filling her head, lifting her up, infusing her words with strength she could never find herself.

She is their focal point. Their conduit.

"A life to end,
"Her will to bend,
"Entwine the parts,
"Grant our wish its hearts."

"Find strength to go forth,
"Be one henceforth,
"Find that which is worst, and pass
"It on, so the next can bypass."

"For a moment to feel pain,
"Only peace to obtain."

With a smooth motion, she splits her palm open again, squeezing her hand, so the blood drips into the chalice, the potion turning a violent, churning red. Bella's hair is lifting, propped up by the magic in the air. In front of her, Carlisle is transfixed, in awe at what he cannot understand.

She reaches for him, takes his hand, slits this wrist. She does not hear his scream - the magic is rushing through her, consuming her; she feels powerful, out of control, and yet she knows there is more to come.

Carlisle's blood falls into the chalice, swirling faster now, turning black. The silver glows hot on the ground.

"Mother mine, Hear my plea,
"Grant my mentor what I see,
"My wish made whole,
"Take back what she stole."

Her hands reach for the chalice; she lifts it to her lips. She finds Carlisle's eyes, and then she drinks.

The boiling liquid forces itself down her throat, past her tongue, down into her stomach. It is violent and angry, darkness laced into its very being, and despite the magic running through her, she can barely hold it down. She is not her own - she is light; she is darkness; she is the magic forced into the very earth.

She is consumed. Overpowered and yet not enough. She has lost track of where she ends and where magic begins, and despite it all - she can still feel the calling, the calling to submit to the wizards, hears Edward's call telling her she is his.

The chalice is steady in her hands. She floats, off the ground, no longer attached to her human emotions. She stares down at Esme's red eyes, sees the fury there, the power, the need to destroy everything in her path.

"Begone, demon," Bella hisses, tipping the remaining potion over the corpse.

The blast sends the circle of witches back, flat on the ground. The force of the magic bounces off the protective dome, threatening to break it.

Bella finds her broom, Jake jumping on her shoulder, and she flies around in a tight circle, staring down at Esme's face. Red eyes swirl and broken vocal chords cackle their wishes of death on them all.

"Not this time. Go back whence you came - return to the darkness. You may not take us with you, not yet!"

The bolt of magic through her flesh is strong, not her own, and momentarily she is adrift. She loses her own ability to think - she knows what this is, suddenly enraptured because this is Edward - his magic working through her, using her body as his to control, and they are as one as Bella's hands grab hold of Esme's neck, preparing to twist.

She should have known - there is only one thing that can break darkness.

In a moment, Esme's eyes blink, and they are brown. They are soft and determined, and shine with relief. Relief at being free.

Broken lips smile at Bella, and Bella's hands twist. Magic forces the head from the body, dropped to the side as it rolls away, eyes finally lifeless.

Magic leaves her, her body a shell, as Bella falls off her broom, hands heavy on the ground.

A hand on her shoulder, and she looks up to see Edward, his being still calling to her, still telling her that she should be his forever, that his magic is all there is. She wants nothing else than to be his to control—

His lips on hers remind her that she is her own—reminds her that Edward is there to be with her…not to be in control of her.

"You back with me?" he asks, eyes ardent.

"I'm back."

She looks around, seeing them all on the ground, wizards and witches alike. One arm reaching toward the coffin, Carlisle lies motionless, pale, blue eyes staring at nothing. The ruby on his forehead lies silent.

"It's over," Tia's weak voice breaks through the wind, and Bella takes deep breaths, trying to come to terms with what they have just done. Esme's head, severed from her body, lies facing away from them.

A nudge under her chin and she looks down, Jake's yellow eyes staring at her. He butts his nose against her face, blinks once, and then disappears.

It's over.

It's really over.

She lifts her face to the sky and finally says the goodbye she wishes she could have said before.

"Bye, Mom."