Page 251 of The Seven Rings
“That’s right. She gave it to me.” Sonya tapped Astrid’s ring.
The wind, coming from all directions, might have knocked her down as Dobbs turned from the seawall. But Trey held her upright.
“It better be now,” he called out.
“Damn wind!”
Crouching, Owen cupped his hands, nodded at Cleo. And this time the flame held.
“Gotta improvise a little. This cloth from then, this cloth from now, together burn.”
Owen adjusted his hands as the black cloths caught fire.
“As their flames rise higher, I cast into the bloody sea their fire. And with this token, your curse forever broken. With this spark, we cast out the dark. With your greed and hate, you seal your own fate.”
She tossed the burning cloths into the pot.
“Go, go, we have to help them. If this doesn’t work—”
Shrieks cut through the thunder. Owen lifted Cleo to her feet.
“I think we’ve got it. Nice work, Glinda.”
Flames licked up the black dress. As Dobbs shrieked, as she swatted at them, Trey pulled Sonya back.
“God. My God.”
The wind Dobbs had whipped fed the flames. Her screams tore through the greedy crackle of them as she ran in circles, beating at them still as her hands began to burn. Her hair caught, sparks flying from the fiery ribbons of it as she stumbled, fell.
“I didn’t expect… I didn’t know she’d… burn.”
“She sealed her own fate,” Owen reminded Cleo.
She burned, she burned screaming with a fire that blazed toward the moonlit sky.
Then the screams died, and the wind with it. The manor went quiet so the only sounds came from the roll of the sea and the voice of the fire.
The flames died.
“There’s nothing left.” Her heart still hammering, Sonya stared at the grass where Dobbs had fallen. “Nothing at all.”
“Because she’s gone.” Trey lifted her hand, kissed it. “We ended her then, we ended her now.”
“Go team. High fives all around.” Owen looked down at his wounded palm. “Maybe later on that. And well, Jesus, we’ve got company.”
Trey spun around, ready to defend again.
The seven brides stood together, the manor behind them.
“It’s like your painting, Cleo. It’s just like your painting.” Sonya looked down at the rings on her hands. “They’ve come for these. I need to…”
“Go ahead. We’ll wait.”
As Sonya walked toward them, Clover took a step forward. “Everything’s cool inside. We took care of it. You sure took care of us. And her.”
“Clover.”
“Some of us—most—want to stay if that’s okay with you. I know Charlie’ll want to when we can really talk again.”
