A/N: I know it's been a long time, but this is a long chapter. So sue me. Anyway, mostly sappy stuff... violence in the next chapter, but not much here. And, Sharpclaw curses in the griff-language. What an interesting life I lead.

Chapter 16: Crescendo

The figurative weight of Silas Atalasa was nearly impossible for Morgana to bear. How do you tell someone you're connected psychically to a convicted murderer who wants to wipe out all life? They'd laugh, or lock you in the nuthouse. Probably the latter.

But then again, how do you keep the fact that you're going to risk your own life to stop the same killer a secret? How can you keep a clear conscience when you see and talk to family and friends you might never see again... and they don't know?

There were only a few days left of the Easter Holidays. Morgana thought, grimly, that Silas would almost certainly attack her before she got back to Hogwarts.

After all, even... well, Voldemort had been afraid of Dumbledore.

Then again, Silas was considerably more confident than even the Dark Lord had ever been. As to justly confident... that remained to be seen.

* ~ *

Late the next night, staring at the ceiling in, remarkably, almost exactly the same way that she had so long ago, Morgana thought hard about Silas. About fighting him. And about that little, nagging apprehension... that perhaps she wouldn't leave the battle unscathed. She tried not to think about it too much, because Silas might notice weakness through their ever-increasing mindlink. But, as thoughts of that nature are wont to do, it kept coming back.

With a sigh, she finally decided that she really would have to tell everyone.

She only hoped they'd take her seriously.

* ~ *

"Mum, I have to talk to you," stated Morgana. She sighed. This was not going to be an ordinary mother-daughter talk. Then again, Morgana was not an ordinary daughter.

"What is it, honey?"

"I... well, as Griffinqueen... I have... responsibilities. Like protecting those in danger."

"Go on."

"And there's this one man..."

"No," Violet told her daughter. "You may not duel him." One had to expect these kinds of things, being the Griffinqueen's mother.

"It's not a question of whether or not I may! It's a statement that I must!"

"Now listen to me, young lady. I told Dumbledore that this power would go to your head. You are a normal human teen, and you are going to listen to me!"

"Mum, I'm not normal! You're not normal either! You're a witch, same as me!"

"You're human!"

"Only half!" Morgana exclaimed. This was met with uncomfortable silence. The young Griffinqueen continued on relentlessly. "Half human, half Griffin, full-blooded nothing. Sworn protector of freedom and life. All these I am, but I am not normal. I can never be."

Small tears began to form in Morgana's eyes, her pained look echoed in her mother's face. "Do you think I like it any more than you do?" the younger continued. "Do you think I wouldn't jump at the chance to be one or the other, Griffin or human? Do you think I asked for this? Believe me, if I could avoid this duel, I would have already done so."

Her voice began to crack at the end of the last sentence, betraying her feelings. Now fully-formed tears slid down her cheeks. She turned away and fled back to her room, sobbing slightly.

Violet watched her daughter go. She couldn't help feeling like she'd just lost something... for good.

* ~ *

Now the last obstacle... and perhaps the hardest. Her friends.

That night, as everyone got ready for bed, Morgana prepared herself. After lights out, when she was sure her mother had left, everything settled down for a well-earned rest. She began.

"Guys," Morgana ventured.

"Yeah..."

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Hmm?"

Four. "Who are we missing? Oh, jeez. Somebody wake Cassiopeia up," groaned Morgana.

A muffled thud, then a bewildered, "Whaaa...?"

"Good, now we've got everybody. We'll need that; this is really important." Morgana took a deep breath.

And she told them everything.

About the weird violent presences, about the article tucked away in the obscure recesses of the Daily Prophet.

About how she'd pieced it together. About how he knew what she was telling them. When she finally finished talking, a stunned silence closed its muffled fingers about the room.

Finally, in absence of a better thing to say, Uric croaked, "So this Silas guy is crazy?"

"No!" exclaimed Morgana instantly. "He's far from it. It's so hard to understand, but he sanely and rationally wants to obliterate all life. That's why he's so dangerous."

Another, bleaker pause, Stormy mustered up the question they were all wondering, though they feared they already knew the answer.

"What does this have to do with us?"

"I," said Morgana clearly, with resolved intent, "am going to try to stop him."

Now came the shortest, yet most uncomfortable silence yet.

"It's tomorrow night. In the woods. Midnight. We'd all better get some sleep," she added matter-of-factly, turned over, and took her own advice. She was far past the point of worry.

* ~ *

"Excuse me for a moment," Morgana said politely, getting up from the lunch table.

As soon as she left, little whispers erupted.

"Can you believe this?"

"She's nuts to take that man on!"

"She'll go through with it. That's the scary part."

Uric straightened up in his chair, saying decisively, "Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not going to let her go alone."

"Me neither," Stormy and Kiri put in simultaneously.

"I'm going," stated Circe.

Cassiopeia exclaimed, "Me too!"

Then it's settled, they all thought.

* ~ *

The dark of the woods behind Morgana's house was broken by a faint gleam from the tip of a wand. The sounds of night dwellers abruptly stopped, the resulting silence shattered by hissing whispers.

"Can you see footprints?"

"It's hard to tell."

"I can't believe she left without us!"

"Probably thought she was sparing our feelings."

"No, just getting us lost."

Uric looked off to the side, into the forest. He could have sworn he heard something... but surely any creatures in these woods had fled the approach of humans. He didn't notice the gnarled tree root in his path until it was too late.

With a strangled yelp of surprise, he went down... tried to catch himself, but failed miserably. Now only tangled more because of his efforts to stop, he could only watch as the ground loomed closer and closer. When he hit, he felt a sickening wrench in his ankle, followed by a cascade of pain. He cried out.

Stormy whirled around. "You idiot! What are you screaming..." her eyes took in the scene: Uric sprawled out in an easily connectable line with the tree root, clutching his ankle in obvious agony, "...for."

Her first thought was, Gee, this is just what we need.

* ~ *

The cry echoed through the nearly silent woods. Morgana whirled, suddenly wanting very much to utter an oath that was liable to blister the surrounding vegetation brown. Within seconds, she was transformed and airborne. Since she could not curse aloud in Griffin Form, Sharpclaw settled for an ancient obscenity in the griff-language which gave every animal within a half-mile radius a brief but searing pain in the temples. This particular bout of foul language has never been successfully translated. Those that tried came up with abysmally inaccurate but unimprovable results, the best of which being, "the feeling you get when you discover your cereal has teeth." It is unclear why this word is an obscenity in the first place, but such are the divisions of different societies (in this case, different species).

At any rate, Sharpclaw left to find her friends, having realized the screamer's identity almost immediately.

* ~ *

"Oh my God," Circe breathed. "What do we do? Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my - "

Cassi and Stormy exchanged glances; the latter slapped a panicking Circe.

"Thanks," the slappee acknowledged. "I really needed that."

"Don't mention it," Stormy said drolly, turning back to the problem at hand.

Uric's ankle was twisted at an entirely awful-looking angle, clearly badly sprained, if not broken. Aside from the odd groan he endured silently, though the pale of his face and the grimace that momentarily passed his features betrayed his pain.

"Was anyone else besides me not paying attention during that Basic First Aid lesson?" mused Kiri.

"I was sick," Cassi admitted, looking furious with herself and her stomach virus.

"I forgot," said Circe sheepishly.

All three looked at Stormy.

"You think I was actually listening to the teacher? That was during Isolation Dorm week. I was too busy glaring at Morgana to pay attention to class! Not that I pay attention anyway, but let's drop that subject."

"Well, Uric's certainly in no condition to set that ankle," said a familiar voice.

"Morgana!" exclaimed the injured in question, if not with untainted happiness (who could blame him?), certainly with surprise.

How ironic, Circe thought. We follow her to try and help; now we're the ones who need help.

"Unfortunately, my expertise in First Aid is about as extensive as putting on a Band-Aid," Morgana continued. She smiled wryly. "So it looks like there's only one thing we can do: get the weight off it." With a flick of her finger, she began to raise Uric off the ground, but he protested.

"Save your strength," he croaked, obviously still in great pain. But he raised his wand and managed to levitate his entire body a good distance off the ground (at least high enough to not hit any more tree roots). He shrugged off the offers of help from the others.

Morgana looked uneasy. She kept glancing off, always in the same direction: toward the center of the forest. Finally, she told them that they'd have to get going if they were to meet Silas.

United, they moved through the pathless forest, toward the battle.

A/N: Well, was it good? There's a little box where you can answer, and it's right down here!
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