13.
Gale followed Mellark in the library, not sure what to do or say. Because the other boy was crying, he had been keeping his eyes averted - to give him his privacy or to let him salvage his dignity, Gale wasn't sure. Out of respect mostly. He wouldn't have liked it if anyone had been gawking at him while he was bawling his eyes out and in Mellark's place he would probably have been bawling his eyes out – not that he would have admitted it.
He couldn't imagine what it felt like to watch your mother walk away to sacrifice herself and he never wanted to find out.
Trinket was… This whole adventure had been an eye opener on Trinket's front. Sure, she was a dark witch and she was dangerous and he still couldn't get behind magic but… Well… He could admit she was one hell of a woman. And one hell of a leader…
And maybe his idea to transfer the Slayer line to her back then hadn't been such a bad one because…
"Hit the books." Mellark tersely ordered. Gale took a seat and didn't argue, pulling one of the old musty grimoires Madge had selected for him closer.
Peeta, for his part, pulled out herbs and chalk from a cabinet and started drawing… things on the floor, his shortened leg folded under the other one to better be able to reach out.
"What are you…" He started to ask the question only to stop talking when the other teenager shot him a hard look, a hollow look.
"I need to be ready when the wards fall down." Mellark explained. "I need to be able to put them back up immediately."
"And after that we go." Gale said, not quite knowing why. Because he had promised Trinket maybe. Or because he could tell, by the way Peeta had said goodbye to Madge, that the other boy didn't intend to survive much longer.
"Right." Mellark said slowly. "We go."
Gale could almost taste the lie in the air but let it rest, focusing back on his book. Even inside, they could hear the sounds of the battle raging outside. But with every passing minute those noises grew fainter which, he figured, meant the plan was working and Trinket was luring the demons away from the Village by making her way to The Capitol.
Or as close to it as she could make it.
The more distant the sounds of battle became, the tenser Mellark grew but, once he had everything ready on the floor, he used his staff to stand back up and hop closer to the table. Then he dropped down on a chair and tugged some books closer to him.
He was much more used to it than Gale was, that was clear. He read much faster and didn't linger on what he deemed to be unimportant information when Gale had to double check everything because…
Well, he didn't know what was important…
Maybe if he had trained with the others, a little voice whispered.
"It says here a good way to vanquish a vengeance demon is to destroy their talisman." Mellark hummed thoughtfully, tapping the yellowish page of the book he had been reading.
Sometimes, Gale could have sworn the boy was speaking another language altogether.
"Talisman?" he repeated with a frown.
Peeta shrugged. "An object of power. The vengeance demons use them to anchor their wishes… Of course we would have to figure out what your demon's talisman is but…"
"The watch!" Gale exclaimed, clasping his bare wrist by reflex. "Sejanus had this watch… He said it was a family heirloom and he lent it to me right before I… It must be it! Right?"
Mellark nodded. "That seems likely."
The bubble of hope in his chest burst. "But it disappeared. I don't have it anymore."
He wasn't sure when it had vanished from his wrist… He hadn't even checked for it when he had landed at that abandoned version of The Cornucopia and…
"We can summon the watch." Mellark decided after a moment of consideration. "How are your drawing skills?"
Gale made a face. "Almost as good as your shooting skills."
The other boy's eyebrows flew high at the implied insult but a flicker of amusement passed in his gaze, then it was swallowed by his grief and worry. "Give me some paper and a pen. I'm going to need as many details as you can so you will have to be precise."
"Okay. Yeah." He hurried in grabbing an abandoned notepad and a pen and passed it along to the other teenager. "Vanquish means we're killing him, right?"
"Usually." Mellark made a face. "I've never actually gone against a vengeance demon before. We see plenty of them or wishes gone awry but we don't usually tackle them. Bigger fish to fry. You know."
"Yeah, the army demon in the front yard is a big fish." he granted with a chuckle. It wasn't that funny. He didn't know why he was chuckling. He felt a bit hysterical at the prospect that the light was finally visible at the other side of the tunnel, that he might just get out of there after all… "Will that undo the wish? If we kill him?"
"Well, we can try to ask him politely first…" Peeta suggested. "But I'd say killing him is your best bet."
Gale took that at face value and described the watch in as many details as he remembered for Peeta to draw. It took five drafts before they were both satisfied that they had as close a replica as they could get from pen and paper.
Summoning an object apparently required quite a lot of shit and Gale followed Mellark's directions, grabbing the herbs he wanted, a flat dish, candles that were almost burned down…
Peeta quickly set everything up on the library's round table though. The flat dish in the middle, three candles around it in a triangle… The glass jar with the odorant herbs to the left in easy reach…
"It's not that difficult." Mellark told him when he caught his puzzled mistrustful look. He pointed at the spell book he had opened next to it. "It's like cooking, really, you just need…"
The boy suddenly bent in two, as if someone had sucker-punched him.
"What's going on?" Gale asked, not quite panicking but… "You're okay?"
Mellark grabbed the table and sat straighter, taking a long deep breath. He was white as a sheet.
"The wards are falling."
°O°O°O°O°
Trinket's mind was gone.
Haymitch was very sure of that fact because the woman had stopped advancing and they weren't even halfway to the Capitol.
Not that he had really expected them to make it. He supposed it was already a small miracle they had made it this far.
When he had called Mags the night before, he hadn't hidden the fact it was a goodbye… The kind Iris and Mabel hadn't been given the chance to have. He had thanked Mags and, in a rare almost unprecedented show of sentimentality, he had told her he loved her. The Head of the Council had been crying when he had hung up.
Those tears had killed a part of him. He hated the thought of causing her more pain.
Maybe that was why he had fucked the witch. Or maybe it was still stupid Fate in action. Because if that boy's words were true…
A demon almost passed his guard and he barely managed to block the blow with his sword. He had to focus on the task at hand, he berated himself.
Trinket's mind was gone but her body was still there and she was still fighting so he kept swinging his sword, kept the perimeter around them as safe as could be. Anything slipping past her magic, he cut down in half without question or reserve. He had snatched his mother's sword back from her hip at some point when it had become clear she wouldn't use it and he had tossed the other one straight into a demon's chest. It felt good to have the familiar hilt in his hands. Like his mother was walking with him.
The witch was cackling like a madwoman… Her dark hair floated around her like a halo, as if she was underwater, moved by invisible currents. He could smell and taste the acrid magic at the back of his throat… It burned. It burned like only the darkest and foulest of magic could. It also burned demons all around them, though, so he couldn't complain too much.
She had started out with fire but she had soon turned to ice.
She froze them all.
Make them shatter.
And still she laughed and laughed…
Her eyes were entirely dark, her skin was turning translucent even as the black veins grew bigger…
She didn't know who she was anymore, he figured, probably didn't even remember why she was fighting.
He had seen it before: witches being consumed by power. They were always unpredictable, dangerous, barely more than feral animals… And those were the best case scenarios. When they retained some semblance of sentience they became cruel evil beings who generally obsessed over one thing and…
His instinct told him to put her down but he knew that the moment he did, he would be a dead man. For now, she either hadn't noticed him or somehow unconsciously still considered him an ally… If he killed her he would have a demon army to contend with by himself… or what was left of it. They had made a good dent.
He hoped the reports were getting to Snow.
He hoped the old vampire was shaking in his boots at the thought they would manage the impossible and reach him.
He doubted it but he hoped.
He had seen many things in his life. Most terrible, some incredible, quite a few impossible… He wasn't sure if it fell into the second or third category when she started hovering in the air… After that, of course, it wasn't just hovering and she was simply… flying.
Leaving him stranded into a sea of demons that closed around him from all sides…
He fought with all he had.
He didn't see the fatal blow when it came. He didn't see the powerful claws slam into his back, tearing flesh and bones to close around his heart and pull…
He was dead before he hit the ground.
°O°O°O°O°
Flying was freedom and the witch never wanted to stop.
But she also wanted to kill.
To slaughter.
To slay.
There were plenty of things to slay on the ground under her and she granted them death, laughing about it, tasting the flicker of blood on her lips, licking it like the finest of wines…
She was Magic.
She was Power.
She was…
The first arrow hit her shoulder.
The second hit her belly.
The third flew straight through her throat.
That one was the kicker.
She plummeted down, her focus broken, and the demons swarmed on her but she still wouldn't stay down, wouldn't die, no matter the teeth and claws tearing her apart.
She was Magic.
Magic was eternal.
Magic was more than a meaningless bag of flesh.
And so, still laughing even as blood pooled in her mouth, the witch released the magic.
She let it burn bright.
°O°O°O°O°
The explosion made the whole house shake.
By the time Gale recovered his bearings, Mellark was already inside the chalked circle he had drawn earlier, the one for the wards…
"What was that?" he asked, rushing to the window in hope he could see whatever had blown up…
"My mom." Peeta snapped, grief and anger battling in his voice. "I need to get the wards back up. Do the summoning spell."
Do the…
Gale shook his head. "I don't do magic. That's…"
"Either you do magic or you stay in this reality forever." Mellark retorted. "Because once I do this spell I'm going to be empty for a while." He shook his head. "Summoning spells are straightforward, you don't need power. Just follow the instructions and read the incantation. Now, shut up, I need to focus."
And, just like that, the other boy started chanting in a language that made no sense to him. His eyes turned white, completely white, and he was bathed in white light like…
It would have been beautiful if it hadn't been so fucking terrifying.
Katniss. Posy.
He needed…
He tore himself away from the contemplation of the complicated spell Mellark was weaving and back to the spell book open on the table.
Magic…
He was going to…
He took a deep breath, skimmed through the instructions… He poured the herbs like the text said and started reading before he could second guess himself. Fortunately, the incantation was in Latin. He didn't understand a word of it but he didn't butcher the language too much. At least he hoped so.
He didn't feel anything weird.
Nothing peculiar happened.
The watch didn't appear.
Mellark was still chanting in his chalk-drawn circle and clearly not free to answer his questions so…
The candles.
He hadn't lit the candles.
He had to do it all over again. Hastily upturn the dish so no traces of herbs remain, place the drawing back in the middle, make sure the candles were at equal distance… His hands kept shaking when he cracked the match. He had to try twice but soon enough they were burning and…
He repeated the pouring of the herbs and the spell once more, silently begging anyone who was willing to listen to help… He didn't know how magic worked and he wasn't a religious person but for the first time in forever he did the closest thing he could think to praying. He closed his eyes on the last word and this time he felt a weird… tug behind his navel.
When he opened his eyes, the candles were smoking, blown off, and the watch was in the flat dish…
He snatched it and turned toward Mellark but…
The boy's attention was riveted to something behind him although the teenager never stopped his chanting, never broke concentration, his eyes still freakishly glowing white…
Gale whirled around and found himself face to face with Sejanus. Instinctively, he cradled the watch close to his chest and took a few steps back, putting some distance between him and the demon who was, once more, wearing a human face.
"What are you doing?" Sejanus asked, sounding a bit puzzled.
Gale spotted a heavy looking bust on one of the shelves, some replica of that famous statue of the thinking guy. He grabbed it, dropped to his knees, put the watch down and lifted the stone bust as high as he could, glaring at the demon.
"Undo the wish." he ordered.
Sejanus frowned. "I cannot do that. It's against the rules."
"Undo the wish or I'll destroy your watch." Gale threatened through clenched teeth, only too aware of Mellark's litany in the background.
The vengeance demon lifted a hand toward him…
Gale didn't stop to hesitate.
He slammed the bust down on that watch.
He heard the sound of glass shattering and then…
Then the explosion threw him back…
oh oh... Lots of explosion. Look I'm SORRY about the alternate hayffie XD I would say they had a good life buuuuut that would be a lie XD Do you think Gale solved it? Or are we in for an epic mess even messier? Let me know your thoughts!