AN I loved writing this chapter. It's basically 'JENNY AND KATRINA SHOULD BE BESTIES' and 'THE HORSEMEN ARE SAD AND TWISTED, BUT THEY'RE VICTIMS TOO', and I have no regrets.
Jenny became accustomed to having another person around the small cottage. After a day, the two of them had worked out a method of falling in together to take care of the cooking and cleaning. Katrina was quiet at first, being careful to toe a line that Jenny had never set up. It was a marvel, as well as a heartache, to see just how much Katrina minded herself. She didn't make a mess, she ate all her food, she let Jenny know every time she wanted to step outside and bask in the sun. Jenny maintained the same sort of amused nonchalance as before, because there was no way she would be able to look Death in the eye and say 'Here, have her back' if she let herself care.
Katrina loved taking walks around noon. The two of them would fill their pockets with clementines and muffins, and then snack as they wandered through the frosty tree trunks and fallen leaves. Jenny was careful to make sure that Katrina didn't smuggle anything in, wary of any spell she might try to attempt. Katrina didn't try anything, though. She seemed blissfully content with the freedom Jenny provided, the copious amounts of sunshine, the new, strange foods, the brightly colored clothes, the electronics. It was at times like these that Jenny could actually forget that she was a Horseman, and Katrina a witch. That she was her captor, just as Abraham was.
Once Katrina had a feel for what Jenny was truly like, though, she started to become a little bolder. She never attempted to push the limits of her freedom, but she began asking questions. They were like the ones on the first night, probing and personal, but this time, not so hesitant, not so afraid. Katrina would look at her, as if Jenny were the strangest creature imaginable, as if Katrina simply could not wrap her head around the concept of giving up one's soul. Jenny, for her part, tried to be honest. But she found that the questions didn't bother her as much as before. They certainly didn't make her stomach clench, or her throat close up anymore.
"Why did you join Moloch?" Katrina asked one day, staring at her bowl of cold cereal.
Jenny raised her eyebrows, and turned to face her completely. Katrina looked up as if drawn by her gaze, but her expression was unrepentant. There was no judgment in her eyes, no betrayal, no nothing. Just the candor of her question.
Jenny stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Katrina followed her as she settled against the counter. There was a tension in her shoulders that wasn't there before.
"Do you really want to know?"
"I do," Katrina said. She didn't even hesitate. "I know why Abraham, and why Jeremy chose to give up their souls, but you…I don't understand. You don't…you are not like them."
"Uhm, yes," Jenny said, thinking that was obvious enough to anyone who even bothered to look at the three of them. Katrina just shook her head.
"You knew about Moloch. You were fighting him from the beginning. From what I could gather…he made things very difficult for you."
"You could say that." There was no longer any personal sting to what he had done. The demons sent to torture and possess her, the institutionalization, the people that had been hurt because of her quest. She still felt the anger, still felt the pain of her solidarity, but that was toward the people who had done all of those things. To the doctors, the police, the naysayers that had called her crazy and wild and better off dead. That coal had burned very, very hot in the last few months. But for Moloch…there was just the fact. He had tested her, and she had come out the other side.
"So why…why did you join him?"
"Because it wasn't about me," she said, the words spinning off her tongue before she could think. Katrina blinked, then frowned.
"How so?"
Jenny shrugged, suddenly reluctant to share this with her. But Katrina's expression was open, sincerely wanting to know. Jenny stared around the kitchen, and gave a long, slow sigh.
"He gave me a pretty great offer," Jenny admitted. She still didn't look at Katrina. She stared out the slice of window she could see, listening to Katrina move her spoon around her bowl. They were both silent for a moment, waiting for the next thing to be said.
"Abraham was offered me," Katrina said quietly, coaxing a little more of the truth out of Jenny's lungs. "And Jeremy…he was offered another chance at life."
"Abraham was given the chance to not die," Jenny scoffed, voice suddenly harsh as she turned toward Katrina. The other woman seemed taken aback, shocked the way her words seemed starved of compassion. "He was a man defined by his things, and then suddenly he had nothing. So he chose Death. So he chose to be something."
Katrina's expression fell, and she shook her head.
"Abraham had his faults, but he wasn't…he wouldn't throw away everything he was working for just for that."
Jenny gave Katrina a long, long look.
"In this way, I think I know him a little bit better than you."
Katrina sat back, mouth slightly open as she digested Jenny's words. The denial was still scrawled across her face, but she was slowly processing it, slowly resigning herself to such a sad and pathetic truth.
"And…Jeremy? What did…was I correct in thinking he…?"
Jenny shrugged again, not feeling anything at revealing secrets that were not hers to tell.
"He wanted a father."
Katrina blinked, and then slowly leaned back in her chair. The life seemed to drain out of her chest as her gaze fell to the floor. Jenny swallowed, regretting how blunt and insensitive she had been. She wanted to say something, wanted to add something else, give her something that didn't leave her so alone and hopeless, but Jenny had made it policy to not lie about important things to her friends and she wasn't about to start now.
"Oh," Katrina murmured, trying to squeeze the words past the horror she was clearly feeling. "Oh. I…I see. I didn't not…realize the extent of his…of what he went…I did not know."
"How could you?" Jenny asked, softening just a bit. "He…isn't exactly the kind to have a heart to heart."
Katrina nodded, but her eyes were fastened on her bowl. She swallowed, looked away, and then stood up. Jenny didn't say anything as she carried the bowl to the sink, and cleared it out.
"So why did you do it?" Katrina murmured, staring out of the window. Jenny frowned, not quite understanding. Katrina turned her head toward her, expression broken and not even caring. "Why did you give up your soul? What was so important? What did you feel in those last moments?"
"I felt alone," Jenny said, meeting Katrina's eyes. "I felt alone, and cold, and scared. And then—"
Jenny swallowed, recalling the soft, seductive whisper in her head. Moloch had tried to appeal to her, the same way he had with Abraham, pointing out that she was alone in oblivion. And then—
"He came to me, and said he could save Abbie," Jenny told Katrina, voice firm. Katrina's expression changed, breaking more or softening or sinking a little farther into despair. Again, Jenny felt the touch of her compassion, felt Katrina's empathy swelling up and wrapping around her from across the room, and it felt like a warm blanket cast on her shoulders.
"You did it for her," Katrina whispered. "You wanted to prevent her from dying."
"She is mine," Jenny said, and she didn't feel the warm blanket on her shoulders, or the concern, or anything. She felt hollow. She felt starved of…she didn't really know what. She didn't care, either. "When the apocalypse comes, and it will, Abigail Mills will be under my protection."
"So that's why you fight them. 'The bigger picture', that is what you told me. This is it, this is you and her, together. That's how he got you."
"She will be safe in my domain while the rest of the world burns," Jenny confirmed. Katrina sighed and looked down at her hands, which were braced against the counter. She didn't seem to know what to say, anymore.
"You will be, too," Jenny added after a pause. Katrina glanced up at the softness in her voice. "Abraham…he may have traded his soul for life, but he still wants you, in his way. You'll be safe. You and I, and Abbie, we can…we'll still be together."
Katrina gave a brittle smile, and shook her head.
"I don't want to be together, if its cost is the rest of humanity."
"You sure you don't want to cut down on your computer time?" Jenny asked, throwing her crumpled napkin at Katrina. Katrina, in turn, shot her a look over the laptop screen.
"I am learning. So many things have happened in the world, and I want to know as much as I can. Do you know what happened to the French, after they helped with our revolution?"
Jenny let out a laugh of surprise at her serious expression, and by the fact that this news was literally hundreds of years old.
"Oh, yeah, theirs didn't turn out so well."
"Unbelievable," Katrina murmured, eyes back on the screen. "You would think something would have gone right for them."
"Is that as far as you've gotten, though?" Jenny asked, clearing the last few pieces of homemade pizza from the coffee table.
"No, well, sort of. I first tried reading about all of the major events, but…things were rather confusing. I cannot guess for the life of me, why anyone would willingly ingest acid."
"Me neither," Jenny chuckled, returning to the main room. "Seriously, though. Are you going to be able to handle not having wi-fi when you go back to the catacombs? Death's going to be coming back in just a couple of days."
Katrina seemed to deflate.
"I…had not thought about that."
Jenny gave her a smile, and reached over to take the laptop away from her. Katrina sighed, but finally relinquished the computer.
She had been there for five days, now, and yet Katrina seemed like a permanent fixture in the small cottage. She was a serene presence, one that seemed to simply exist alongside Jenny. She helped fill up the silence, in a way that the Hessians and the other Horsemen and even Zubin could not do. She cut through with the sounds of her cleaning in another room, or her quiet commentary (or sometimes less than quiet commentary) on whatever article or tv show she was looking at, or her soft conversation with Zubin every day as she brushed him down. Katrina made this house feel so much more like a home.
But Abraham's promised week would be over in just a few days, and then Jenny would have to give her back. After all, she could not refuse his prize while waiting so expectantly for her own.
Katrina pulled her feet up onto the couch, expression closed off.
"What do you think he is doing?"
"I think he's on a mission for Moloch."
Katrina gave Jenny a look that she was not impressed with this answer. Jenny cracked a smile, but glanced down at her hands.
"He's retrieving the final Hellfire Shard," Jenny said. She could practically hear Katrina swallow back her dread.
"And then…?"
"And then," she agreed. Katrina nodded, and stared at her knees.
"I don't want this to end," she confessed. Katrina looked up at Jenny, eyes wide and honest and afraid. "I don't want to go back with Abraham. Not if…not when…I don't want to leave."
"Is it because of him, or because it means the end of days is just a hop away?" Jenny asked, and she made sure that her tone was gentle. Katrina shrugged, and gave a tight smile to the wall.
"Does it really matter?"
Jenny didn't answer.
They were quiet for a moment, then Katrina got to her feet.
"I…er, I'm going to make myself some tea. Would you…?"
"Yeah, sure," Jenny said, smiling and allowing Katrina this retreat. Jenny listened to her sing some Italian aria as she moved around the kitchen. What would it be like with her gone? The cottage would be once more empty, Jenny would once more be alone. Although, with the final Hellfire Shard in place, she wouldn't be forced to wait around. The final steps would come with a whirlwind and a thunderclap, and then the world would be theirs. The faithful servants of Moloch would be allowed their reward, as Jenny had said, and they would be satisfied. No longer monsters amongst men, but gods reigning above them. Powerful and honored and claiming their reward.
They would be satisfied.
Zubin shuffled out in the garage, trying to chase the melancholy from Jenny's thoughts. She smiled at his efforts, and decided that once she finished her tea, she and Katrina would take him for a long walk. Zubin pranced around the garage in excitement, making her smile.
"Here we are," Katrina said, returning to the room with a tea tray.
Jenny had flat out laughed at Katrina's reaction to her dismal tea set and accessories (which consisted of a couple mismatched mugs and what Jenny thought was a bona fide teaspoon), and had immediately demanded that she get a proper tea pot and a selection of loose leaf tea. Jenny had complied, and less than a day later, a Hessian was delivering it on their front step. Ever since, Katrina had made it a religious practice to have a pot ready at all possible times. Jenny didn't mind. It seemed to calm her, the familiarity of the motions soothing the woman into a happier time.
"What do we have today?" Jenny asked, ignoring Zubin's murmuring.
"Red rooibos," Katrina said, setting the tray down and pouring some into a mug. Katrina had first been delighted to find out about the wide variety of tea available, and then made it her mission to sample as many mixes as she could. Jenny played the good sport and tried every blend Katrina slid under her nose, but there was no doubt in Jenny's mind that every single tea leaf would be going with Katrina when it was time for her to leave.
"Mm, smells amazing."
"There are vanilla beans in it," Katrina beamed, adding in sugar and cream. She handed the mug to Jenny, and then began preparing her own cup.
Jenny took a sip, relishing the warmth that ran down her throat and out to her fingertips. This she would miss. Zubin whined at her, sensing the sugar and warmth, but Jenny dismissed it, promising him an apple instead.
"I quite like the one with the lemongrass and lime in it, but this is always best on a cold day, yes?"
"Definitely. Although, someday I'm going to get you hazelnut hot chocolate, and tea's not going to have a second chance."
"I strongly doubt that," Katrina laughed, stirring the sugar into her mug. Jenny smiled at her as she took another drink.
Zubin neighed at her, loud enough to be heard inside the cottage. Katrina straightened, and glanced nervously at the window.
"It's not Abraham," Jenny promised her, even as she began to scowl.
"What is it?" Katrina asked nervously.
"I don't know," Jenny said. Zubin hadn't said anything distinct, which made her think he was still complaining about being in the cold, while she enjoyed 'good water sugar lump'. She sipped her tea. There had been an edge to his voice, what had it been? Unhappy, nervous, maybe? He didn't get nervous…except for when he felt the brushes of Moloch in her head. But this was different, this was…not that, this was…
"Hm," Jenny hummed into her mug, trying to think.
"What?" Katrina repeated, hands now clasped together. Her mug of tea was completely forgotten on the tray. She still hadn't been…she was worried…because Jenny hadn't…
Jenny set the mug down on the table, tea slopping over the sides. Katrina was immediately there to keep her from falling forward, and eased her back into the chair. Her eyes were big and scared and sorry and so, so very determined.
"I had to do this," she whispered, voice swimming in the dark of Jenny's mind.
Jenny opened her eyes. Thinking was like running through cobwebs. Many, many giant cobwebs. Zubin squealed from the garage, and Jenny got the sudden, jagged impression of him stomping around, frantic and trying to wake her up.
witch forest come back magic
Jenny gasped and shoved herself to her feet. She staggered into the wall, fighting to remember how her voice worked.
"Katrina?" she croaked, glancing around frantically. She hadn't left, at least not permanently, Zubin had been certain of that. She had come back into the cottage, but why? Why had she returned, why had she drugged Jenny?
"Katrina?"
Jenny turned to glance into the kitchen, and huffed out a breath of twisted relief. There she was, crouched on the floor, plants and candles laid before her. And…blood?
Jenny jolted over to her, and jerked her upright. Katrina gasped at the rough movement, and then she was facing Jenny. Her hands were clenched onto the witch's arms, partially out of anger, partially out of relief, and partially out of her not being able to stand upright. Katrina was shocked and nervous, but something told Jenny it was very different from the way she had looked just before Jenny had fallen unconscious.
She stared into Katrina's face, trying to drag up the words to express the tumult inside of her stomach.
"What did you do," she hissed, the words ground out through her teeth. Katrina set her jaw, and tilted her head up. Jenny tightened her grip, making her flinch, and leaned forward. "Tell me, Katrina!"
Katrina seemed to shrink beneath Jenny's hands, but she remained silent. Jenny whirled away from her, staggering through the vertigo, hand in her hair. She thought she had possibly interrupted the spell she was casting, but she wasn't sure, she didn't know, she didn't know magic. Katrina certainly hadn't done anything monumental, hadn't set something enormous into motion, she would have felt that, Moloch would have made her feel it, so that was good, but that was not fine. Had she tried to contact the Witnesses, had she tried to stymy Death in some way? What could she do with the wards in place?
Jenny turned back to face her, and grabbed her arm again. She yanked it up to eye level, stomach sinking when she saw her wrist where Abraham's charm had been. It was a mess. It looked like Katrina had literally clawed it off of her, taking most of her skin with it. Jenny dropped her arm, and stalked across the room. She snatched up the phone, scrolling through the numbers in her head. She wasn't going to go hobble to her mirror for this, she wasn't going to stand there and be sneered at while she could not strike back.
"Whatever it was you just did, whatever stunt, oh Katrina, it was stupid. Why would you—"
"I had to try," Katrina said, voice terrified but standing so, so firm. Jenny stabbed the numbers into the phone, but her attention was grabbed by Katrina's words.
"Try what?"
Katrina faltered, then gazed down at the ground.
"I…I don't remember. I can't recall what my spell did."
Jenny stared at her for a moment, then the person on the other end of the line picked up.
"Yes?" the voice slid out, charming and deadly.
"War, come here. Katrina's done something."
Jenny did not like having Henry in her home. His very existence grated against every thought, every habit, every furnishing she had put into the place. From the moment she heard his car on the gravel, Jenny felt the smooth danger he contained. Katrina didn't seemed to be doing much better. She hissed in a breath, and curled up into an even tighter ball in her arm chair. Since Jenny had discovered her, she had refused to say anything. She just watched, watched and tried to stop the tremors in her hands.
Now Henry was there, silently inspecting Katrina. He had been gravely serious when he had walked in, but it still felt like his smile wasn't far off.
Jenny led Katrina to the bedroom when he was done. She touched the other woman on the shoulder, then closed the door.
"Did you find anything?" Jenny asked as she returned to the living room. She desperately didn't want anything to be wrong, but she found it was more for Katrina's sake, than hers.
"No," Henry said, eyes locked onto her. "I've searched for multiple kinds of spells and magicks, but nothing is registering. And she hasn't said anything?"
"No. She still has her voice, though," Jenny added. She felt ridiculous, but Henry still nodded, like that was good, pertinent information.
"My main question," he said after a delicate pause, "is how my dear mother even managed to do this."
"Meaning?" Jenny growled, pushing herself up from the wall. Henry didn't move, but his condescension came out in full force.
"Meaning that I have to wonder what sort of guard you were giving, if she was able to gather materials to not only knock you unconscious, but also to cast some sort of other enchantment?"
"You said you couldn't—"
"I can't find the magic itself, no! Do you have any idea as to the gravity of this situation? There is clearly evidence of magic, the candles, the notions, the characters on her back, and yet even I cannot divine even the least bit of information! This spell she has woven may possess the power to do anything, and there is nothing I can do to prevent it. And all because of your lack of vigilance. It will not be me Lord Moloch comes to discipline, of that I assure you. He will not allow his plans to be frustrated now!"
"I know that!" Jenny shouted, hands curled into fists. "Why do you think I called you? I want to see his plans fulfilled just as much as you do!"
"Oh? Then act like it!" he barked, voice snapping through each one of Jenny's bones. "You staunchly refuse to get your hands dirty, hiding out in the woods with your horse and your new witch friend, like everything will simply sort itself out naturally! You cling to this strange notion of being better than us, more human, more reasonable, but drop the veneer, Famine. You may not have noticed it, but you are changing with every passing day. The dregs of your soul have clung to you, but they are fading, and if you maintain this arrogance, ignorant attitude, then you will have no place in Lord Moloch's kingdom. You are a Horseman, you sold your soul for power and standing, no amount of clinging to humanity is going to keep you from the monster you have willingly become! This is a battle, Famine, and maybe a passive force like yourself may not recognize it, but it takes actions to win."
"Oh, get over yourself!" Jenny snapped, barely biting down the urge to throw something at him. "You act so high and mighty, like you're Moloch's favorite, like you have any right to order us about. We are the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, servants to Moloch, not War and all his lackeys! You can't just make these plans and execute them while we are barely aware of what's going to ha—"
"They are the only ones that ever work! Remind me just what it is you have done. Followed orders and made mistakes, obviously the kind of person that should be spearheading all of this."
"You're just like us, War," Jenny ground out, hating him with every fragment of her wretched being. "You're a puppet, a pawn, a thing that had better work right, or you'll be thrown away."
"I am not the one that has allowed one of the strongest witches on the American continent to cast some sort of spell!"
"Didn't you, though?! I thought your wards were supposed to stop this. If she just had to tear off her own skin to do magic, then clearly you are the one at fault! Are you so arrogant as to doubt the lengths she would go to stop this? After living and dying and existing for centuries, with a fortitude that I hadn't even thought possible, you truly think she would stop at slight bodily harm?!"
"If you had been the least bit aware of what was happening, had prevented her from poisoning you, then—"
"By doing what!?" Jenny shouted, forgoing all caution and getting right into his face. It didn't matter that there was a good few inches' disparity between them, or that he was a warlock and had been at this game for far longer than she had, Jenny had self-righteous wrath howling through her blood at every black insinuation War was slapping onto her skin. "What would you have done, oh great and powerful War? What would you have done? Locked her up in the basement, kept her tied to a chair? Starved her and abused her and practiced your mental terrorism until she was barely more than a shell? Moloch doesn't need her broken, he needs her subservient, and I promise you that no one in their right minds would let you around her. You, and your pent up mommy issues and your sadism and overwhelming condescension for every living thing you come across, you think that you would have been a better candidate to guard her, keep her safe and healthy and whole until Moloch has need of her? Please, even you can't be so deluded."
"Your naivete is astonishing, even now," he sneered, pulling back, becoming cold and lethal and quiet. "I would rather risk her mind than all of Lord Moloch's plans! You and Death, you are children running around, getting under foot. It will be an honest miracle if either of you get your reward, your beloved friends, your family, those people that will shun you for every moment of your miserable, eternal existence. You blind yourselves with pathetic hopes, and yet you—"
Jenny was not conscious of moving. She felt herself shriek, felt herself scream and whirl away. Passive force, immature child, a pathetic, blinded little girl that was pretending her devotion, to both Moloch, his cause, and her sister. Jenny could barely see, but her spear was leaping to her hand, the tip and butt already churning with energy, ready to eat away, to burn, to starve War for all eternity.
She threw it at him, the vicious power of the devil compacted into a few short yards. He jerked his hand up, and magic was there to knock it off course, but her own power was too strong, and it barely jerked to the side. He glared at her, shock and seething hate stabbing out from his eyes, but Jenny had already grabbed something, she didn't know what, something heavy and hard and enough to inflict so much damage, she was across the room and ready to strike—
It suddenly felt like she was being crushed.
Jenny would have screamed, but gasping in a breath was like inhaling cement, and her chest and head and arms and legs all burned. Terror ripped through her soul, because she knew what was happening, she felt the might of Lord Moloch literally crushing her at his feet.
War was there beside her, transported just as she had been. He was cowering as well, fighting to breath, fighting to stay conscious and keep his mind and not have the very life abolished from his body.
CEASE, HORSEMEN OF MY APOCALYPSE, he said, ripping apart Jenny's mind. She screamed and cowered on the ground, trying to block the sound with her hands, trying to protect herself from the noise that was inside of her skull. YOU ARE MY SERVANTS, YOU ARE TO OBEY ME. YOU DO NOT FIGHT WITH EACH OTHER LIKE CHILDREN.
"My lord, my lord, I was simply trying to please you," War gasped, voice small and pathetic and hoping to be spared, to escape punishment. He had been here before.
WAR, I HAVE WARNED YOU BEFORE ABOUT ACTING ON YOUR OWN. YOU ARE NOT THE ONE TO DELIVER REPRIMANDS ON MY BEHALF.
Jenny panted for breath, idle hopes of raising her face from the dirt coming to mind. She was so close to pulling her brain together enough to think. Moloch's oppressive force was still bearing down on her, but not quite so hard, not enough to make her feel like every breath was going to make her vomit. His attention was solely on War, now, grinding him slowly, excruciatingly into the dust.
YOU ARE TO FOLLOW ORDERS, AND CARRY OUT MY WILL. ANY MORE DEVIATIONS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.
War sobbed into the dirt, agreeing, apologizing, begging for mercy. Jenny felt her stomach constrict, gagging at the sight of seeing the fearsome Horseman of War be reduced to this. This was not something anyone should see.
AND YOU, Moloch boomed, swinging his wrath around to her. Jenny felt herself be flattened again, squashed into the dirt. She could see his feet as he stalked before them, but even that was too painful to look at, so she squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering and silently, hopelessly begging for release. Death, Purgatory, oblivion, anything would be better than this.
YOUR NEGLIGENCE WILL NOT BE FORGIVEN AGAIN, FAMINE. FAIL ME AGAIN, AND THERE WILL BE SEVERE CONSEQUENCES.
"Yes, Master, yes, I understand, I understand," she sobbed, crying so hard that she could barely speak. "I won't do it again, I will never forget myself or your will again. I'll be obedient, please, please, forgive me!"
FORGIVENESS IS NOT SOMETHING FOR YOU TO ASK, he reproved her, and Jenny found herself mindlessly agreeing, groveling just as War had.
BUT IT IS SOMETHING I WILL BESTOW, THIS ONCE. DO NOT LET SUCH PETTY CONTENTION ARISE AGAIN. THE WITCH'S ACTIONS DO NOT MATTER, THE PLAN IS ALREADY BEING EXECUTED. DEATH HAS ALREADY ACQUIRED THE FINAL HELLFIRE SHARD AND RETURNS. IN A MOMENT'S TIME, THE APOCALYPSE WILL BEGIN, AND I WILL REIGN. GO, HORSEMEN, AND DO NOT DISPLEASE ME AGAIN.
Jenny gasped, reeling back from the floor. She was back in her cabin, she was safe, she was away from Moloch's terrible force. She glanced around, heart still shrieking in her chest, anxiety and fear still swirling about her head. Zubin was screaming outside, trampling around and on edge from the horror leeching from her mind.
War had likewise fallen to the floor, and was struggling to sit up. Jenny watched him for a moment, but did not meet his eye. She dragged herself to her feet using the back of the couch, hating how shaky her legs were.
She heard him get to his feet, slowly, pathetically, not saying a word. Jenny continued to stare straight again, mind receding back into itself as the fireplace swam before her eyes.
"I have already strengthened the wards on Katrina," he said after a long moment. "Even when she leaves this place, she will be helpless."
"Will they need to be broken?" Jenny asked the wall. There was nothing in her voice. No hostility, no worry, no exhaustion. Just nothing.
"No. They do not prevent powers from accessing her, simply from her using her magic. When Lord…when she is needed, she will be able to perform perfectly."
Jenny nodded, but didn't say anything else. She heard him quietly shuffle to the door, and then leave her house.
She took another few seconds, then shakily walked to the door as well. Zubin was prancing about the yard, clearly having had broken out of the garage when he felt Moloch steal Jenny's consciousness.
He walked up to her, nosing her hands, arms, stomach, face. She wrapped her arms around his neck, too exhausted to cry. It was like Moloch had truly obliterated a part of her, destroying all emotions in the process. Except fear. That clung to her heels even stronger than before.
Zubin didn't say anything, but the strong sense of comfort he offered helped, just a bit. It didn't make her feel quite so numb, at least.
A small sound came from the door, and then Katrina was clearing her throat.
"Jenny…" she began, clearly nervous about being around her after what she had done. "I heard you and Jeremy…and then I'm not sure what, this awful presence…"
Jenny didn't turn around, so Katrina edged a little closer.
"I did not mean to cause you grief," she whispered. She was standing at her side, now, small and penitent and sad. "I simply—I didn't think. It's just—I can't—it is very hard, caring for people on both sides. Sometimes, when I help one, when I worry about another…nothing seems to go right."
"It's okay," Jenny murmured. She could not keep the tears back when Katrina wrapped her arms around both Jenny and Zubin, and held them very, very tight.
AN MY HENRY FEELS, LOOK AT THEM.