Screaming wasn't all that hard to hear, not at the volume of terror that ripped through the castle and its land like a banshee, amplified by all the magic, pained and inside, that could break out from the heart of a little girl.
The flower Rowena had been slipping into her hair drifted to the ground as her head jerked toward the castle. "Latiya didn't find a cockroach. You know how they can get."
The screaming was continuing, long and hard with cries of help.
Rowena bit her lip. "Salazar, perhaps we should go see…"
He would prefer to stay out here with her. That's what anyone in his position would prefer. "Jonas and Terminus will…"
That wasn't relaxing Rowe. Instead it only deepened the harsh lines scarring at her face. "Terminus…"
"Terminus," Salazar echoed. Unexplainably came something stabbing into his mind. The look on Rowe's face. Latiya's screaming from the castle.
Something was horribly wrong.
"Come on," he whispered, springing forward across the grounds, Rowe just behind him. Not far enough, not at the speed he was going. But he had no choice whatsoever. If he could explain what was going on in his heart…
And other things. In a moment the world became so much more than living around him. Movement. Sentience. Voices all but whispering into his mind.
It was alluring, like old wine.
Run, came the command in those words but none. Run to where you are needed. For now you must know. Know what you must do. You are needed there. Sacrifice on your part. Run.
"Salazar!" Rowe screamed behind him. "Be—"
With a deeper intake of breath he was over the stump, no doubt the danger she had pointed out.
It couldn't be anything else.
How strange it was, like a dream, that it was so hard to reach a castle so close… His muscles began to ache like they had never on so many runs and hunts. The times as a child racing through the swamp… Lungs hurt, screaming. But the command persisted.
He needed to be there. He really needed to be there. Something was very wrong.
"Salazar!" Rowe repeated, growing more and more distant behind him. "Don't—"
He finally reached the castle. Doors open, as Jonas had left them. As they should be. He darted through them, cape almost catching on the splintering wood. Magic shouldn't splinter naturally.
"Jonas!" he called. "Terminus!"
There was no answer. He heard voices, though, echoing in the halls above them. Latiya had stopped her screaming, the faint voice he attributed to her glowing tears.
No.
Where were they?
Stairs were ahead. He could make those twist for him. He had to. If it would reach them faster… He pulled them towards him, twisting them. If they could all be like that. He flew up them, weakness gone, feeling more strength than he had.
He was supposed to be here right now. For some reason he could not explain, he was supposed to be here. He stumbled onto the next floor, hating the way he echoed so loudly with every movement he made.
"Godric!" he called. "Jonas!"
Somewhere in the labyrinth he could hear a reply. Wherever it went… Blindly, he spun a corner.
"I have been waiting for you."
He skidded to a stop.
The girl was blonde, golden haired. Beautiful. And there was something very familiar in her, the way she smiled at him. With a grimacing frown, she curtsied. "I have missed you, Salazar. The one they call the Snake-Talker."
He froze, mind considering to go past her. "How do you know that name?"
The sadness broke out into a forced smile. "I know many things about you, Salazar."
"You're her. Tanith. I've heard of you."
"You should have done more than simply heard of me. I am more than that."
What was so familiar about her? "What are you?"
"Myself. Tanith." The sadness returned, shadowing her face. "And little more. I am simply a messenger."
The voices of Godric and the others had vanished. It was just them, he and this strange woman Tanith, echoing voices in a dark hall. "What message do you bring?"
"Someone is dead," she whispered, drawing closer to him. "A horrible accident."
Dead. "Who?"
"A great wizard. His name was Terminus Clearwater. Now that all remains of his family are the Squibs. The magic is lost. It is a tragedy."
"Terminus?" Salazar felt the scream Latiya had given welling up in his own throat. His body found motion again. He had to see. He had to know.
"No!" Tanith shouted, raising a hand.
Salazar stopped. Of his own will, but not…
She lowered her hand, eyes burning into his. "Do you have any idea who you are, Salazar Slytherin? Do you have any idea what you will be bringing to pass?"
"Shut up," he muttered.
She wasn't phased. "An innocent man is now dead, for the cause you will bring. You cannot escape it. It was formed the day you were born."
What did she know of his birth? Even he knew little… He stared at her, mind screaming to get to Terminus and the others. But… "What are you speaking of?"
"Something is coming Salazar. Something great and terrible and powerful. Something that will bring what the magic people need. What is life, what we have? We are dying even now. Why this when we will be the universe? The stars and the sun and the moon? It's like the phoenix, Salazar Snake-Talker. Destruction and death comes in fire and burning, but it is only through that destruction of everything that the best will arise."
"You speak in riddles." And he hated it. Riddles were for fools and simpletons. Why was she wasting his time.
"Because I know not much more than you will," she replied gently. "This is where you come in, Salazar. The great and terrible, the hero of our people, will be coming through you. In your generations you will bring death. It has been shown. But those you call the Fighters, they fear this. They all fear it." Her eyes were shining now. "He will come. They don't want him to, which is why they seek to already destroy your precious school. They will stop at nothing. But you cannot let them try."
"You make no sense," Salazar spat.
"Do I not?" She smiled. "But always remember that I am your friend, Salazar. And remember what I have told you. I have always been your friend, and I always will be."
Then, in a flash, she was gone.
A dream. That was his first impression. A dream of a strange girl who spoke nonsense. Terminus is what mattered. Once again able to move, he fled, calling Godric's name.
Terminus lay in a room, nothing extraordinary. He was dead.
Salazar stumbled into the room, gasping, heart bleeding at what he saw. "No."
Helga, cradling the old man in her arms, looked up at him with tears in her eyes. No different from anyone else.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"We have to end this," Godric muttered. He had stepped from the room where they had found Terminus, Jonas at his side. "Uncle Jonas, we cannot do this school. Not if it's going to bring this about." That was a lie. That wasn't what he felt.
Jonas laughed, humorless, sound full of bitterness. "Terminus was a sacrifice. You cannot end that."
How could he speak that way? Godric felt rage inside of him, burning at Jonas. "Terminus is dead!"
"And you say we end the school?" Jonas turned on him, more forceful than Godric had ever seen. "I know you are hurting, boy, I know that. We all are. Terminus was one of my closest friends!"
What did Jonas know of hurt? Terminus had never been his teacher. But… Jonas was right.
"Ricky, do you not want the school?"
Godric couldn't lie. He shook his head, fighting back tears.
"Then we won't be ending it." Jonas kept walking, a forceful march, movement that demanded Godric keep up with him. "You have no idea what good this school will bring about. Seers have mentioned it. Both evil and good. But by only allowing the evil can the good be brought about."
"It won't be for centuries," Godric muttered.
"No. But we need it now. Here, drink something hot." A cup of steaming cider appeared in Jonas' hand.
As if by magic.
But it couldn't be. Jonas… Jonas was a Squib. Godric stared, fascinated. "But—"
Jonas only smiled, the bitter smile of a prank forced out of necessity out of tragedy. "Jonas the Squib. Easy pretension over much skill. You have to learn about the fine art of lying if you wish to run a school boy."