Chapter One-Hundred Fifty-Six

Fai's magic curled around them, a dome of twisting runes and spiraling threads of energy. "There will be seven layers of shielding," Fai explained, flitting around the inside of the dome as he drew a luminescent coil of runes in the air. "Our enemy will likely break through the first three before—" A crashing impact jarred the ground beneath them as a whip of dark magic slammed into the protective shell. Syaoran summoned his sword, raising it to defend himself, but the attack merely peeled away the outermost layer of Fai's shield.

Fai sighed. "Before you two even get close to him," he finished ruefully. "The three layers beneath that are specifically designed to counter the spells he's cast around himself, allowing you to pierce those wards unharmed." At this, Fai shivered, and Syaoran was suddenly very glad that he didn't know enough about magic to guess at the traps their enemy had crafted. "The last layer is insurance," Fai went on. "A multipurpose defensive spell in case he has some other trap I haven't accounted for."

A series of violent impacts ripped away the second layer of shielding just as Fai finished writing out the seventh. The magician slipped outside the boundaries of the spell and held up his hand, blue light clustered around his fingers. "You'll only have one shot."

"That's all we need," Kurogane said, with such casual confidence that the tempest of worry in Syaoran's heart began to calm. We can do this. We can win.

Fai nodded and made a sharp gesture, sending the protective bubble soaring. Only one shot. Syaoran took a breath, gripping his sword—the sword his father had given him when he'd been barely old enough to carry it—so tight that his knuckles whitened. I can't let his sacrifice be in vain.

Below, an inky stream of magic curled around Fei-Wang Reed. As their bubble of protection neared the man's defenses, Fei-Wang's attack hit, crashing into the side of the barrier and peeling away another layer of Fai's spell. That's it for the first three layers, Syaoran thought, feeling exposed. There was still the seventh layer, which Fai had set up to protect them from any last minute assault, but the thought of using that up before they even reached Fei-Wang . . .

"Get ready," Kurogane said tightly.

They crashed through Fei-Wang's wards. Syaoran couldn't see them, but he felt the impact of each, saw the elaborate runes Fai had drawn shatter and disappear as they absorbed whatever traps had been laid to prevent them from scoring a physical blow on their enemy. So close, Syaoran thought, eyes flickering to Kurogane. But are we close enough?

"No!" Fei-Wang bellowed as they landed in front of him. His eyes went wide. Not with rage. With fear. "NO!"

Syaoran swung his sword.

It was a thing of beauty.

Syaoran and Kurogane attacked in perfect unison, fire and light pouring from their weapons in a barrage of magic so fine and detailed and instinctive that Fai couldn't help but beam. And if he'd added a few extra spells in the last layer of the defensive bubble to magnify the power of those attacks, well, that only made it more spectacular.

The flames engulfed Fei-Wang, but they did not burn him. Fai had suspected for a while now that Fei-Wang Reed was not a creature of flesh and blood, but rather a being of magic and memory. So in the end, he did not burn or bleed out. The flames did not sear him to the bone. Indeed, he had no bones except for the tangled magic that had served as the basis for his image.

No, he did not die as a human would have. Instead, his body shattered into a thousand pieces, like a mirror smashed against the ground. Those pieces held his image for a few seconds—with his vampire vision, Fai could see bits of the sorcerer's face, his eyes, his clothes, all scattering as if carried away by the wind. But even those images quickly vanished, the shards of his twisted soul turning grey, as if erased. Similarly, all the elaborate spells Fei-Wang had carved into this place dissipated like frost under the heat of the summer sun.

It was over.

Fai heard a soft cry from the edge of the reservoir. Quickly, barely processing the sound, he warped over with a twinge of teleportation magic. "Sakura-chan?"

The two princesses looked up as he appeared, their faces lined with tears. Silvery cracks ran up the older princess's body, which started drifting apart like floes of ice. She's disappearing, Fai thought, distress tainting the surge of triumph he'd felt only moments ago. "It's all right," he said, though it wasn't. "It will be all right."

He heard footfalls behind him. Kurogane and Syaoran had arrived. "What's going on? Is she . . ." Syaoran trailed off. "Mother . . ."

"It's all right," the older princess said, a brittle smile dawning on her face as she touched Syaoran's hand. "This would have happened no matter what. Your father and I . . ." Her next breath wavered with pain. "We're magical constructs. When our creator vanishes, so do we."

To Fai's surprise, Syaoran neither flinched nor tried to deny it. "The memories stay," he whispered, gently rubbing his thumbs over the back of his mother's hand. Her eyes shimmered with tears.

"Yes. Memories stay." The elder princess turned her head, reaching for her younger counterpart. Sakura crawled forward, lacing their fingers together. "Memories stay," Syaoran's mother repeated. "I was created from your soul and body. When I am gone, you will inherit my memories. In that way, I may live on."

"But that means . . ." Hastily, Syaoran dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a plain brown feather. Fai blinked; in his distraction, he hadn't sensed the gentle, pulsing waves the feather gave off. In fact, the plain feather's power was a far cry from any of Sakura's feathers. Naturally, whispered the more logical part of his mind. The other Syaoran never had any magic of his own, so there wouldn't be any magic except that of his memories contained in that feather.

"These are my father's memories," Syaoran said, cupping the feather in his hands. "Does that mean—"

"If you hold it closely, those memories will merge with your soul," the older princess said, smiling softly. The fissures had spread to her neck now, and her limbs had almost completely disappeared. Fai swallowed thickly. It was easy enough to say that her soul, as well as that of Syaoran's father and clone, would remain after she disappeared, but watching her slowly break apart like this . . . It shouldn't be this way, he thought. We won. This shouldn't feel like a defeat.

"I will always love you," Syaoran's mother said, looking at her son. The cracks splintered across her face, and her voice faded as the last shards of her disappeared. "Goodbye."

A terrible silence fell. Syaoran collapsed to his knees, shaking. Kurogane knelt a moment later, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder. Neither of them said a word as the last wisps of Sakura's magic coalesced into a glowing white feather. The younger Sakura—the only Sakura that remained—scurried over the rubble, catching the feather in her delicate hands. She looked to Syaoran. "Should we . . ."

"Yes. I'll find a way to bring them back." Syaoran clutched his father's memory-feather to his chest. Sitting across from him, Sakura did the same, and Fai fidgeted as the feathers merged with their bodies. Both of them sagged, all the tension draining out of their muscles. Sakura allowed herself to fall back, and Fai caught her as instinctively as he'd always caught the other Sakura, back when finding her memories had still mattered.

Syaoran struggled to stay upright, bracing his hand against the cracked ground as his body tried to retreat into unconsciousness.

"Enough," Kurogane said, wrapping his arms around Syaoran's waist and pulling him against his chest. "You've fought enough. It's time to rest."

Syaoran's head lolled to the side, eyes clouding with fatigue, as Sakura's always had when she'd had a feather returned to her. "Kurogane-san . . ."

"Rest," the ninja repeated. "We can talk about it later."

The boy managed to keep his eyes open a few seconds longer, then sank deeper into Kurogane's arms, asleep. Fai rose, hoisting Sakura into his arms with the aid of his supernatural strength. "Mokona, do you think it would be possible to visit Clow Country after this? Since this world was originally a piece of that world, it should be easier to find our way there."

Mokona emerged from the hood of his coat, ears flat against her back. After a few moments, she bobbed her head. "Mokona will try."

"Why there?" Kurogane asked, cradling Syaoran in his arms with such tenderness that it took Fai a moment to register his question.

"I think it would be nice for them to wake up and find themselves at home."

"Mokona agrees," Mokona said, a pair of wings extending from her back as a magic circle spread out under their feet.

Fai stepped closer to the center, looking from Sakura's sleeping face to Syaoran's. Neither of them looked peaceful in their slumber. We've gotten through the hardest part, Fai thought. But that doesn't mean that the next part will be easy.

Still, he smiled as Mokona's magic carried them away. And this time, it was a real smile.

Author's Notes:

Well guys, we made it. We made it through the epic, drawn-out battle and it only took three-hundred thousand words and two years to do it.

There are still a couple more chapters to go (What? You didn't think this would be the end, did you?), so stay tuned. And thanks, as always, for everyone who's stuck with me throughout the story. You guys are great.