The Second Plane (#Wattys2016)

8.

Savannah stumbled back in jagged, uneven steps.  The blade slid out.  Father Crossheart gripped the handle, unable to let go.  She looked down to her stomach.  Her hands moved on their own, covering the wound.  Blood seeped through her fingers.  Blinking, she gazed upward, towards her father.  He still held the blade.  Horror painted his face.  Her eyes rolled back, body sagging.  As she collapsed, Delocray caught her.  Her breathing was shallow.  Delocray laid her down.

Father Crossheart dropped the dagger.  It hit the ground with a thud.  He stood frozen, but Delocray acted swiftly.  Ripping the purple bandanna off  his arm, he applied pressure to her wound.

"One of you call 911, she needs immediate medical attention!" Delocray shouted at them.  Ashly nodded, whipping out her cell phone.  Father Crossheart shook his head.  She stopped short.

"The dagger is made of silver.  It's been purified by the heavens.  Doctors can't save her."

"Then what can?" Delocray questioned, gnashing his teeth. Father Crossheart closed his eyes, turning away.

"I refuse to give a monster like you sacred information of the Church.  If I take her to the Vatican-"

"No offense Father Crossheart, but that would take days."  Jericho interrupted, he turned to Delocray. "We must perform a purification."

Jericho kneeled beside Delocray.  Once indifferent, his tone was filled with determination.

"What supplies do we need?" Ashly asked from behind them.  Despite her own fear, she wasn't going to watch her friend die.

"A silver blade and a tether to this world." Jericho answered. "Father Crossheart-"

"Not to that vile creature."

Gritting his teeth, Delocray kept his gaze on Savannah.  Red already soaked his bandanna. Rain beat down on them.  Wind blew leaves and branches alike.  A bluish tint spread across Savannah's skin.

"Damn it!  She's your daughter, are you going to let her die?" Delocray demanded.  Though he wasn't shouting, his voice was stern and loud.  "I was going to prove to her that the Second Plane wasn't a bad place.  I was going to show her the world.  Let her pet a nine tailed fox, ride a griffin, steal a chuppicobra egg from the royal exhibit in France.  I wanted to give her a chance to live.  Just like you."

Father Crossheart sighed.  He knew the demon was right.  His face twisted in disgust. he tossed the blade over to them.  Jericho caught it by the shaft.  The priest turned away. "Save my daughter."

"Now all we need is an anchor."

"The glasses?" Delocray asked.

Jericho shook his head. "They're back at the church."

Delocray swore under his breath.

"What about her rosary?" Ashly quipped. "Savannah always found it comforting."

"That will work." Jericho said.  Leaning over Savannah, he slipped off the beaded necklace. His grip around it tightened.  Using his opposite hand, he raised the blade to his wrist.  Before he could slash across his arm, Delocray grabbed his wrist.

"Stop, spells that require blood drain the caster.  Savannah couldn't bear it if something happened to you." Delocray said. "Let me do it.  She's only known me for a few days."

Hesitantly, Jericho handed over the dagger and rosary. He switched positions with Delocray, applying pressure to Savannah's stomach.  Delocray tied to rosary around his lower arm and stood. He ran the dagger across his wrist.  Blood seeped from his arm.  As the rain washed it to the earth, his veins could be seen.  Black raced up them.  His body was reacting negatively to the silver dagger.

"What's next?"

"Draw the seal on both of your foreheads.  It should be the mark of the horn."

Delocray wiped the blood from his wrist.  Shifting black strands of hair away from Savannah's forehead, he swiped several small arcs.  Then placed the same seal on his.

"Now the incantation, how's your Latin?" Jericho raised an eyebrow.

Delocray shrugged. "Good enough."

"Repeat after me; Tui Gratia,"

"Tui Gratia," Delocray echoed, his voice trembled.  The poison in his veins etched its way up to his collarbone.  Dizziness took over. He collapsed to his knees.  The rain continued to beat down.

"Lovis Gratia," Jericho shouted.

"Lovis Gratia," Delocray's eyes began to droop.  Remaining in the First Plane was becoming difficult.  The only thing grounding him was the rosary.

"Sit Curare!" Jericho finished.

"Sit Curare." Delocray slurred. 

"Now, touch your seal to hers.  That will complete the spell." Jericho finished.  Taking a deep breath, Delocray leaned over Savannah.  He placed his forehead against hers.  He exhaled.

"Pervivo." The word was a faint whisper.  His body trembled.  Blue flames ate away at his fingertips.  Flakes of ash were picked up by the wind.  The flames worked its way up and around until it consumed all of him. Then, he was gone.  The fire  extinguished itself.

The rosary clanked as it hit the ground.  A blue glow surrounded Savannah.  She gasped for breath, body lurching upward.  Jericho moved the bandanna away from the area the wound should have been.  Torn fabric and dried blood was all that remained of it. 

Ashly stepped forward, fingers just covering her mouth. "Is she?"

"She's alright." Jericho smiled.  He scooped the unconscious girl into his arms, picking her up bridal style.  "Let's get her home."

(Alright, so perception on the last chapter wasn't the greatest, weird posting time?  I don't know.  Anyways, I still love hearing from you guys. 

Lots of Love,
Librarian's Cat)