Legion's Arc

Chapter 21 of 22

The swarm closed on Mark. He backed toward the altar, but the villagers were no longer villagers. Their skin split into fur. Their hands grew claws. Legion rose behind him now, bigger than it had ever been, a wall of teeth and black eyes stacked into one shape. Mark turned to run. The swarm bit into his legs. He fell against the burning pews and screamed. "Demons," Mark shouted. "Witches!” He tried to fight them off but kept coming. They clawed his chest, his neck, his face. He crawled toward Diana, reaching for her, but she stepped back. She did not help him. She knew this had to happen. Behind Mark the floorboards cracked. The old wood split down the center. A hole opened wide beneath the altar. Diana felt heat pour out of it, worse than the fire in the pews. Deep in the hole she saw flames with no bottom. The hole had not been there before. The curse had made it. Legion's great arm reached down. It closed around Mark and lifted him off the floor. Mark kicked and swung his fists. "Please," he said. His voice broke. For one moment he sounded like the man Diana married. The man she knew. “Diana, please." Diana looked at Mark. A man she had loved for twenty years. She then thought of the altar, the match, her own blood he had wanted to spill. "You chose me for my blood," she said. "Not for me." She did not look away. Legion threw him. Mark fell into the hole. His scream stretched thin and long, then dropped below the flames. It faded. The heat pulled back. The hole in the floor sealed shut, wood knitting over stone. The roaring stopped. All around the church, the swarm went still. One by one the rats changed back to who they used to be. Fur pulled back into skin. Claws became fingers. The freed villagers stood as people again, hundreds of them, blinking in the firelight. Then they began to fade, thinning like smoke, until Diana could see the walls through them. Each smiled and nodded toward Diana until almost all of the villagers were gone. Only two shapes remained. Legion and one other rat crept toward Diana across the ash. She did not run. They rose and changed. The rat became a young woman in a gray dress and white cap, her face soft and sad. Legion became an old woman in a torn black cloak, gray hair loose, eyes pale and sharp. Diana knew them from the book she found. The Mother, the witch who had made the curse. The Daughter, who had died first inside it. They looked at Diana's scarred cheek. They looked at the mark of their own blood. The Mother smiled. The Daughter smiled beside her. "Hello Diana.” the Mother said. "It’s good to meet you.”