Chapter 23
The last flare of the Mirror's light had barely faded when a deep, guttural sound shook the chamber. The marble table quivered, dust spilling from the ceiling. Rebecca gasped, clutching the emerald as her children stirred violently within her.
Then it came a roar, inhuman and vast, reverberating through the stone walls. Shadows pressed hard against the mausoleum from outside, their claws scraping, their whispers rising to shrieks.
And through it all, faint but unbroken, the families in the cemetery could be heard. Their voices rose in ancient chant, words passed down for centuries, pouring into the night air like fire
Greyson's face blanched. "They're holding the wards!"
Nathaniel's jaw tightened, eyes blazing. "No they're buying us time. The Hollow wants to break us apart before the vow has even settled."
Rebecca pressed her palm flat against the marble, her voice trembling. "I can hear them. Helen. Victoria. Samuel. Elenor. They're still out there, chanting. Holding the shadows back."
The Mirror shuddered again, its silver surface rippling as though it too felt the assault. A streak of black flame cut across it, Harry's laughter echoing faintly before the relic flared white to repel it.
Thomas Weatherman slammed his hand on the table. "Then we cannot sit idle while they fight above us. The Circle was not reforged for us to cower in stone!"
The runes along the walls pulsed violently, as if echoing his anger. The marble table's glow surged, the nine lights weaving tighter, their power humming in unison.
Rebecca's children's voices rose within her, no longer whispers but clear as bells.
"Rise. Stand. Answer the Hollow. You are Nine. You are not broken."
The chanting above grew louder,more desperate now, the cries of the families pushing back the shadows. A low moan rattled through the mausoleum doors, as though something vast had pressed itself against them, testing the threshold.
Nathaniel gripped Rebecca's hand, steady but fierce. "This is the first strike. If we hold here, together, we prove the vow still has power."
The table blazed brighter, each talisman sparking with light. The air smelled of fire and iron. The Hollow was at their gates. The Circle would answer. The marble table thrummed with the Circle's power, every talisman burning bright. The chants of their kin above thundered through the cemetery, holding the wards, pushing back the dark.
Then the mausoleum doors shuddered, the stone groaning under a heavy blow. Shadows coiled, thick and alive, pressing through the cracks. The air turned sharp and cold, as though the Hollow itself was breathing into the chamber.
From beyond the doors came a voice broken, hollow, and far too familiar.
"Nephew…"
Nathaniel froze, blue fire faltering in his hands. His jaw clenched, but his eyes widened in disbelief.
The shadows thickened, gathering into the faint outline of a man's form just beyond the threshold. "Nathaniel blood of my blood. You think you've outlasted me? You think the Hollow cannot claim you this very night?"
Rebecca's heart pounded, the emerald pulsing in her hands. She whispered, "Alexander."
The shadow-shape shifted, its eyes glowing like empty coals. "And you, woman. You think binding yourself to him will save you? You carry children into a world already promised to me. Their voices are loud, but the Hollow is louder. Give them to me, and you might yet live."
Rebecca gasped, clutching the emerald tighter. Inside her, the children's voices rang out, fierce and unyielding:
"We are not his. We are yours. Stand, Mother."
Nathaniel's fire surged back to life, his fury roaring. "Uncle, you let the Hollow take you! The night my father died, you chose shadow over blood. Do not call to me as kin!"
The laughter that came was jagged, scraping. "Kin binds tighter than vows, boy. You will fall as I did and when you do, I will be waiting."
Rebecca slammed her palm on the table, her voice sharp. "You will not touch him. You will not touch me. And you will never touch my children!"
The Circle echoed her defiance. Their talismans flared, their power surging outward through the marble. A wave of light struck the mausoleum doors, blasting through the cracks. Alexander's shadow-form shrieked, ripped back like smoke away from the light.
Above, the voices of the families chanted louder, stronger, sealing the wards with every breath.
The chamber shook one final time before the silence fell.
Nathaniel's hand trembled as he gripped Rebecca's. His voice was raw. "He's gone for now. But the Hollow has him completely."
Rebecca's eyes burned, her emerald still glowing hot. "Then we'll face him. Together. And this time, the Hollow won't win."
The last echo of Alexander's scream faded, leaving the mausoleum in a suffocating stillness. Rebecca clutched the emerald ring to her chest, her breath ragged, while Nathaniel's fire dimmed to a steady, trembling glow.
Then the Mirror of the Michaels rippled.
Its surface darkened, silver giving way to pitch. Whispers crawled through the chamber, cold and oily, until a new figure emerged in the glass
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Eyes like burning embers, sick with malice. His smile was wrong, stretched too wide.
Harry Winston.
A shiver ran through the Circle as his image sharpened, the Hollow coiling around him like chains made of smoke. Where Alexander's shadow had faltered, Harry stood rooted, certain, feeding on the dark.
His voice thundered without breath or sound, filling every corner of the chamber:
"The Circle gathers. The Nine binds. How quaint. Do you think this vow can stop me?"
The Mirror flared, struggling to contain the vision, but his laughter spilled through it a harsh, jagged thing that rattled the runes.
Rebecca's children stirred violently within her, their voices urgent
"He is the hollow. Beware of him."
Harry leaned close to the glass, his gaze fixed on Rebecca. "So this is the new Matriarch. Carrying heirs, singing their names through trinkets and blood. Do you not see? The Hollow already stirs in them. They will cry my name before they ever breathe yours."
Rebecca staggered, fury surging with fear. "You will not have them!"
Harry's smile widened, cruel and slow. "But I already had what you now claim, didn't I?" His voice dropped to a whisper that scraped like knives. "Tina."
Deanna gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
Nathaniel snarled, stepping forward, fire blazing in his palms. "Enough!"
The Mirror flared so bright it seared their eyes, snapping the vision away. The chamber plunged back into silence, only the pounding of hearts filling the space.
Greyson leaned heavily on his cane, his face pale. "Harry Winston walks again. Alexander is near, but Harry is the Hollow."
The Mirror's light dimmed, leaving the chamber heavy with silence. The families stood shaken, their talismans still glowing faintly, as though clinging to the vow they had just reforged.
Rebecca pressed the emerald hard against her chest. "Harry Winston and Alexander. Both bound to the Hollow."
Nathaniel's jaw worked, his voice low and bitter. "It makes sense now. My uncle never vanished by chance. The Hollow took him the night my father died the same night Harry bound Tina. He fought to steal her away, and when he failed " His hands curled into fists, blue fire flickering between his knuckles. "the Hollow claimed him instead."
Deanna's eyes filled, her voice trembling. "So while Harry chained my mother, Alexander was lost to the same darkness?"
Greyson leaned on his cane, his face grim. "Two men, both broken by the Hollow, feeding it instead of fighting it. Together, they are worse than any single enemy we've faced. Harry, the Hollow. Alexander, its weapon."
Carolina's voice cut sharp, though sorrow weighed it. "And both tied to us family. Our shame. Our burden to carry."
The runes along the walls flickered, pulsing with every word, as if the mausoleum itself recognized the truth.
Rebecca's children stirred violently within her, their voices rising in her mind like a chorus of bells.
"The Hollow twists love into chains. But we are not chains. We are bonded. We are life. Stand."
Rebecca straightened, her voice steady, though her heart thudded in her throat. "Then it falls to us to end what they began. To break the chains of both Harry and Alexander. For Tina. For this town. For every soul that ever fed the Hollow unwillingly."
The table blazed brighter in answer, the nine circles flaring until the chamber thrummed like a heartbeat.
For the first time, the Circle understood the depth of their enemy. Not just Harry Winston, not just Alexander, but both men twisted, bound together, feeding the Hollow with betrayal, rage, and lost love.
Rebecca's grip tightened on the emerald, her children's hum fierce inside her chest. "Then the Circle stands against them. Tonight. Tomorrow. Always."