22 Death laughs

Gold, glittering and gleaming.

Finite, never enough for fools.

Magic, swirling and swarming.

Infinite, power to break rules.

Tools, for devils' scheming.

They've entered a cave. It's dark and musty. This is the one place in all the world Flint was forbidden to go. There's too much magic here, too much potential, too much danger and trouble.

But now he's here, inside the cave rather than outside protecting it. He's the key to the cave — and his presence alone was enough to open the doors wide open to his enemy. He's here now, and the magic about them is strong and powerful, ready to act, to move, and to change.

To bring back the dead, if Flint so wished it.

Flint's stomach churns. He so wishes, he wants, he longs to see Kate's face again. But this is a vile wish. Hope for the horrible. Forbidden love that should never be brought back to life.

Allegra May is kicking and screaming. She's knows her heritage. And though she's not taken the oath, she's fully aware of the danger and darkness surrounding them.

"Let me go!" She cries, her voice frail and small. "Granpapa, let me down!" She uses that special names she's not uttered once since the death of her momma. Now she wields the term like a knife, words slashing out of her, cutting and stabbing at will. "You're hurting me, Granpapa!"

But whatever paternal self had once existed within Snake is long-ago dead. He's now only a husk of the man he was. Grief has consumed him, turned him, twisted him. He's hardly recognizable. Where once love resided, wrath now dwells.

"Shut up, girl!" Snake growls. There's no love in his voice, only loathing and hate.

That villain's shaking Flint's baby girl. But Flint's lost too much blood already, try as he might, his hands are tied, the fight's fled his muscles. He's been beat. He's useless, powerless, hopeless, to save his precious little daughter.

Flint's words are slurring in his mouth. "Leave her… Allegra… Darlin'…"

Cody Ax waits outside. That bear of a man can't help them now. Flint made sure of it — forbid the magic from lettting him in unless he, too, be tempted by its devilish potential. If only he'd had enough sense to leave the rest of them outside. But their was a gun to his pretty daughter's throat — Flint had broken. His daddy heart had crumbled. He'd broken his oath. He'd let Snake into the cave.

But Snake hadn't dropped the gun. Allegra was still in danger. Flint had lost.

So, with body crumpled to the floor of that magic-riddled cave, Flint could do nothing, but wait and hope and wish that Snake might have a change of heart.

But there was little hope in wishing.

Snake had traded his soul for a devil's —

traded his mind for a fool's.

"You know I can't do that, Flint." There's this crazed fire in Snake's eyes. "I've also sworn an oath — one to bring my precious Kate back. You took her from me. And now I'm taking something from you."

"That's not true," Allegra screams. "You killed my momma!"

"Only because your daddy poisoned her mind, turned her against me. It's his fault — not mine — for the way things turned out. Things could have been different. We could have —"

"This isn't what Kate wanted!" It's all Flint can do to get the words out right. "She chose to protect this world. It was her choice — Allegra May is her daughter, Snake! Spittin' image!"

But Snake won't have it. He turns his viper eyes on Flint Jackson, wrath flaming within them as he speaks, "She's yourdaughter — not Kates. Your poisonous blood flows wild within her, Flint. But lucky for me, there's just enough of Kate inside her to bring Kate back." Snake's traded his gun for a knife. It's curved blade glints in the glow of the magic rocks thrumming about them.

Hope.

Hurt.

Wrath.

Wish.

Destruction and Death for all who dare stand in Snake's way.

Snake barely flinches as he stabs the knife into the tender flesh protecting the young girl's heart. Red blood pools upon her blouse. Eight short years of life stutter out in shocked breaths from her gaping mouth. She bends forward, her body bowing to Death.

The sound that pours forth from Flint's mouth is the cry of a father whose soul is breaking. Who's just witnessed a crime too unfathomable. Who's unable to take revenge because his own life if being demanded of him.

Death stands at the door -- waiting -- sickle in hand, laughing as father beholds daughter. 

And daughter is dying.