XI.

It was, Vanessa had discovered, possible for the dead to grow tired. She felt weary to her bones by now, and yet there were two more gates ahead of her to sail through, and the occasional experiment to destroy the plunder she had gathered so far had proven to be unsuccessful.

When she passed the eleventh gate, it seemed to crumble almost as soon as her barge had entered it, turn from stone into sand that fell on her, and while her sigil warded off much, some dust still came through. It was everywhere, clinging to her skin, as the barge entered the eleventh part of the Duat, shuddered, and grew still. Looking down, Vanessa saw that there was nothing but sand around them, still; an ocean of it.

"My, my," a voice said. "What one wouldn't give for a nice, long, hot bath now."

The shape on one of the sandy waves was that of a black panther, if Vanessa had her large cats right. She remembered her visits to the natural history museum all too well. The voice, however, belonged to Evelyn Poole.

"I thought you'd come as a doll to me," Vanessa said.

"I try not to be obvious, Miss Ives," the panther replied. Its sinewy shape was beautiful, without a doubt. "Now, let us talk sensibly, woman to woman. Witch to witch, if you like."

"I'd like a certain relic," Vanessa retorted. "Nothing else."

"Oh, I think there are a great many more things you want. Which is my point. Miss Ives, I won't waste our time by lying to you. You know I resent you, and I think I have reason. You bested not just me, but my master, which is even more insulting, since it implies I should have been able to and failed in all my centuries of service. Moreover, the only man in eons who was able to break the spell I had on him and therefore qualified himself as interesting enough for me to offer true companionship to turned me down on your behalf. One does have one's vanity. All this not withstanding, what I'm going to offer you is absolutely sincere. No lies. I mean every word."

Try as she might, Vanessa could not detect a note of falsehood so far. Then again, this woman was an accomplished liar, and had had time to practice for centuries. Having defeated her once was no guarantee to defeat her again. Joan, who'd known her far better and had been as old, as powerful, had seemed almost helpless that night Vanessa first saw the night comers.

"No matter what you mean, you have nothing to offer. Save for that relic, and I doubt you'll give me that."

"Time," the panther purred. "Time itself, reversed."

This threw Vanessa. "What?"

"This place, Miss Ives, is beyond time. It contains multitudes. With the right magic, you could return from it to any point of your previous existence that you wish to."

There was still no sense that she was lying, but Vanessa shook her head in certainty. It had to be a trick.

"That is impossible," she said. "If it could be done, you'd have done long ago, and would not still be here. I thought you didn't want to waste our time?"

The panther approached her vessel, until the point where the power of the warding sigil began. "I can't do it alone," Evelyn Poole said. "Neither can you. But I know how it can be done. A day walker and a night walker together, white and black magic. And eleven parts of an ancient immortal to empower us. It is the most difficult of spells, but we are both powerful enough, together. Imagine it, Miss Ives. You could go back to undo all your regrets. Back even to the maze, if that is what you wish, though I should think you'd want to keep that sight. Back to the night when you seduced your friend's young man for curiosity and competition. Just think about it. You've tormented yourself for years and years, and you can ensure it never happens. She lives, happily so, your friend still, at your side. Just share her bed instead, you know that's what you wanted in any case. And once the dragon shows up, well, you'll be warned."

There was still not a single falsehood discernable, and Vanessa tried her utmost to hear it. Mina living, she thought. Mina with her life unblemished. She could save Peter, too. And Joan. Her mother. Mina's mother. Sembene. She could travel to America and prevent Ethan from ever becoming a killer, as he had tried to do for her in Scotland.

"Oh," she said, and found that she'd sunken to her knees, "oh, you are good."

"I know," Evelyn Poole said smugly. This, too, was not a lie.

"And you would..."

"Well, I'd also return, obviously. To when would not be your concern. Though if it soothes your tender conscience, you could tell yourself you'd keep an eye out for me. After all, I am not a woman easily to miss, and again: you'll be warned."

There had been hundreds of dolls in the cellar of this woman's house. Thousands, possibly. And each doll held the entrails of a child. To allow her to return to the world would mean condemn more people to a bloody death than it was possible to count. And that were only those whose death Evelyn was responsible for directly. Who knew how many additional lives she'd taken by causing despair?

But you could stop her, a voice inside Vanessa whispered. You've done it before. You could do it again. You're not responsible for those she killed before you were born. She is. Just go back, save Mina and the others, then stop Evelyn Poole, and all will be well. As for Dracula, do what Catriona had suggested. Kill his current form, and let someone else take care of the rest. He's weakened now. It will not be that difficult anymore.

Mina would live.

"You swear I will retain my memories?" Vanessa asked, for that seemed the most obvious trap: that she would return, but would commit all the old mistakes again, for lack of knowledge, while Evelyn had a free hand.

"I swear," Evelyn said, and the blazing assurance in her truthfulness and victory was scorching. The panther was now close enough that if Vanessa tried, she could look directly into its golden eyes.

She's seen eyes like this before, and thinking of John Clare reminded her of who he used to be before. Of the hospital, and what they had tried to do to her there. How they had tried to change her into someone else, in so many ways, and in the end even had been willing to remove all that had made her Vanessa Ives.

"Mina," Vanessa cried, "Mina!"

"Yes," the panther purred, misunderstanding, "she'll be yours once more and..."

There she stood. Not the pale predator she'd been at the end, or the young girl who'd run across a beach with Vanessa, careless of any sorrow. No, this was someone Vanessa had never known; a young woman in her twenties, who'd left her home behind to seek employment and another life, who'd married a young solicitor and had not looked back.

"Mina," Vanessa said, trembling, forcing herself to stand still instead of trying to rush in her embrace and be rejected, "it is your life. Your death. It should be your decision."

Silence fell between them. The panther hissed, ears laid back, tail twitching. Vanessa had always thought that there was no resemblance between Mina and Malcolm Murray; that Mina had nothing of either his physique or his character, fair where he was dark, modest where he was proud or vain, sweet where he was demanding or bitter. But now she could see that Mina had inherited Malcolm's chin, and that the way she narrowed her eyes, frowning, was that of her father.

"I cannot be that girl again, Van," Mina said. "Not at the price of so many lives, including mine. I did make a life, you know. And it was not about you, or Father, or that creature out of legend who made me into his toy to get to you. It was mine. Those memories are mine, not yours. Now here is one who wants to use me as an instrument again so even more people can die, and you need even ask? You didn't know me at all."

The panther yawned. Her throat was of a furious red. "Who cares what she wants?" Evelyn asked. "Let's cast our spell, and she'll have forgotten she ever begrudged you more than a lost ribbon."

"I'm sorry, Mina," Vanessa said. "More than any words can express."

"Van, don't..."

Vanessa raised her hands, and the birds who still were bound by her will fell on the panther, hacking out its eyes and bringing them to her over the screams of their last owner. They fell into Vanessa's palms, golden and not gelatinous at all, but warm and metal.

These had not been Evelyn Poole's eyes before. They had belonged to an immortal being.

"You'll regret this for all eternity," Evelyn hissed. "And I am not exaggerating. You're still unable to destroy them, aren't you? And you never will, because they can only be destroyed on the mortal plane, and that is where you now can never go again. He's waiting for you. Apophis, the Destroyer of Souls. Your Dragon. Behind the last gate. And let me tell you one thing, he's not pleased with the Mother of Evil. Enjoy."