07 The Return_ Midnight - L. J. Smith

Elena did and gasped. For just an instant her body was completely unmoored. She and
Stefan automatically wound their arms around each other. And then Elena realized what they were
seeing, both above and below.
“It’s water,” she said, staring at the pool spread out before them. “One of those
freshwater seas Sage told us about. And not a ripple on it. Not a breath of wind.”
“But it does look as if we’re on that smallest moon,” Stefan said mildly, his eyes
deceptively innocent as he looked at Damon.
“Yes, well, then there’s something exceedingly heavy at the core of this moonlet, to
allow for eight-tenths the gravity we normally experience, and to hang on to so much atmosphere—but
who cares about logic? This is a world we reached through the Nether World. Why should logic
apply?” He looked at Elena with slightly narrowed, hooded eyes.
“Where is the third one? The grave one?”
The voice came from behind them—Elena thought. She was—they all were—turning
from looking at brilliant light into half-darkness. Everything shimmered and danced before her eyes.
“Grave Meredith; laughing Bonnie;
And Elena with golden hair.
They whisper and then are silent…
They plot and I no longer care…
But I must have Elena,
Elena with the Golden Hair…”
“Well, you’re not going to have me!” cried Elena. “And that poem is a complete
misquote, anyway. I remember it from freshman English class. And you’re crazy!” Even through her
anger and fear she wondered about Fell’s Church. If Shinichi was here, could he bring about the Last
Midnight there? Or could Misao simply set it off with a languid wave?
“But I will have you, golden Elena,” the kitsune said.
Both Stefan and Damon had knives out. “That’s just where you’re wrong, Shinichi,”
Stefan said. “You will never, ever touch Elena again.”
“I have to try. You’ve taken everything else.”
Elena’s heart was pounding now. If he’ll talk sense to any of us, he’ll talk to me, she
thought. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the Last Midnight, Shinichi?” she asked in a friendly tone,
inwardly trembling in case he should say, “It’s already over.”
“She doesn’t need me. She wouldn’t protect Misao. Why should I help Her?”
For a moment Elena couldn’t speak. She? She? Other than Misao, what other She was
involved in this?
Damon had a crossbow out now, with a quarrel loaded in it. But Shinichi just went
rambling on.
“Misao couldn’t move anymore. She had put all her Power into her star ball, you see.
She never laughed or sang any longer—never made up any plots with me. She just…sat.