“I think it’s a key,” Melisandre indicated after taking it from Maggie. Maggie turned the opal in her hands and shook her head.
“There’s no hole here,” she denied.
“Maggie, touch the key to the orb,” Melisandre suggested. Maggie did as told, and her jaw dropped open as green lines ran through the pearlescent colours of the orb, and then it split in half. The glow from it stopped immediately.
“What on earth?” Maggie exclaimed, examining the two halves. The inside had been carved out, with the bottom holding six little apartments and the top half having six centred around a seventh.
“Oh no, I know exactly what this is,” Maggie cried and nearly threw the three parts of the orb away from her. Melisandre’s hand shot out and stopped her.
“What?” she asked.
“Look at the bottom piece closely, Melisandre; what do you see?” Maggie demanded, distaste and fear written across her face. Melisandre leaned in and stole a closer glance.
“Maggie, it looks like a silvery mist floating around in each segment,” Melisandre replied after a few moments.
“That’s the souls of the children Margery killed. In the top part, the middle circle is empty. Twelve sections are filled, and Margery murdered twelve kids,” Maggie replied softly. Melisandre stepped back in horror.
“Get rid of it, Maggie!” she exclaimed.
“And leave it for Margery to find? She’s able to travel to wherever the opal is.”
“It’s stopped glowing now, though!” Melisandre argued.
“Yes, it has, hasn’t it?” Maggie said thoughtfully. She frowned as she tried to figure out why. As soon as Maggie pushed the two halves together, the opal began glowing again. But when she touched the small wand to it, it stopped and broke apart.
“Damn, this is akey,” Maggie breathed.
“Huh?” Melisandre urged.
“The key to Margery’s power. I’ve figured this out. Let’s return to the Jekyll and Hyde, and I’ll tell you everything,” Maggie said with a grin. They could stop Margery, and she held the key in her hand.
???
“You think this can beat her?” Lucian asked, studying the three pieces of Margery’s opal.
“No, I know it can. Even though this was hidden or protected by a spell, Margery could still pull on the captured power. She has carried this for centuries, and Melisandre, look deep inside. You can see the twelve trapped souls. Lucian, we could free them!” Maggie cried. Lucian shook his head as his sad eyes took in the tortured children.
“Maggie, how do you think we can beat her?” Nicholas asked, leaning forward. Disgust crossed his handsome features before he leaned far away from the corrupt gem.
“Because Margery is drawing her strength from the orb. And the children’s souls are powering it. What’s the betting most of Margery’s power comes from this? Did you not see the green when we cracked it open? I think that is Margery’s blood tie to it. She has that eerie green mist, and the colour of the lines in the opal match that fog. If we free the spirits, then we weaken her greatly. And you can chase her into the darkness.”
“How? I don’t have my sword, and our powers are matched,” Lucian asked. Maggie turned to face him.
“Lucian, you’ll know how when the time comes because I believe in you,” Maggie breathed, and Lucian sighed.
“Fine, but you’re not staying!”
???
“I swear in the name of God, if you move, I shall issue the spanking your mother should have,” Lucian threatened as he paced nervously. Placidly sitting in an armchair, Maggie ignored him and concentrated on the opal. Katherine ruffled her hair, and Maggie batted her away.
“Mum! Yes, I agree with Lucian. I won’t leave this little area. I can see the chalk marks, and Mum will protect me. You concentrate on sending that witch to hell!” Maggie said fiercely. They’d argued all afternoon before Maggie just point blank refused to go. Something deep inside her told her she needed to be here, and nothing would make her budge.
The clock chimed the last stroke of three, and Lucian prepared himself as Margery flew from her room and raced down the stairs. Her hands reached for the opal, a look of pure lust on her face. Lucian yanked her away and pushed her back as Maggie patted the key to the brightly glowing opal. She’d never seen it gleaming so brilliantly; it stung her eyes. The orb fell apart, and Maggie prayed her gut was right as she touched the pointed end of the key to a partition.
A wail left Margery’s lips as she bent over in sudden pain. Her gaze narrowed in on Maggie, who was gaping at the spirit of a little boy in front of her. He was about eight, his clothing was centuries old, and his frame thin. He twisted his head to Maggie, and she looked into innocent, gentle eyes.
“Free my friends,” he asked softly.