Just one more step, thought Elena. She saw Katherine approach the rectangle of light. Just one more step…
Katherine took the step. "That's it, then!" She started to turn around. "What a good—"
Now!
Yanking her cramped arms out of the last loops of rope, Elena rushed her. It was like the rush of a hunting cat. One desperate sprint to reach the prey. One chance. One hope.
She struck Katherine with her full weight. The impact knocked them both into the rectangle of light. She felt Katherine's head crack against the stone floor.
And felt the searing pain, as if her own body had been plunged into poison. It was a feeling like the burning dryness of hunger, only stronger. A thousand times stronger. It was unbearable.
"Elena!" Stefan screamed, with mind and voice.
Stefan, she thought. Beneath her Power surged as Katherine's stunned eyes focused. Her mouth twisted with rage, fangs bursting forth. They were so long they cut into the lower lip. That distorted mouth opened in a howl.
Elena's clumsy hand fumbled at Katherine's throat. Her fingers closed on the cool metal of Katherine's blue necklace. With all her strength, she wrenched and felt the chain give way. She tried to clasp it, but her fingers felt thick and uncoordinated and Katherine's clawing hand scrabbled at it wildly. It spun away into the shadows.
"Elena!" Stefan called again in that dreadful voice.
She felt as if her body were filled with light. As if she were transparent. Only, light was pain. Beneath her, Katherine's warped face was looking up directly into the winter sky. Instead of a howl, there was a shrieking that went up and up.
Elena tried to lift herself off, but she didn't have the strength. Katherine's face was rifting, cracking open. Lines of fire opened in it. The screaming reached a crescendo. Katherine's hair was aflame, her skin was blackening. Elena felt fire from both above and below.
Then she felt something grab her, seize her shoulders and yank her away. The coolness of the shadows was like ice water. Something was turning her, cradling her.
She saw Stefan's arms, red where they had been exposed to the sun and bleeding where he had torn free of his ropes. She saw his face, saw the stricken horror and grief. Then her eyes blurred and she saw nothing.
Meredith and Robert, striking at the blood-soaked muzzles that thrust through the hole in the door, paused in confusion. The teeth had stopped snapping and tearing. One muzzle jerked and slid out of the way. Edging sideways to look at the other, Meredith saw that the dog's eyes were glazed and milky. They didn't move. She looked at Robert, who stood panting.
There was no more noise from the cellar. Everything was silent.
But they didn't dare to hope.
Vickie's demented shrieking stopped as if it had been cut with a knife. The dog, which had sunk its teeth into Matt's thigh, stiffened and gave a convulsive shudder; then, its jaws released him. Gasping for breath, Bonnie swung to look beyond the dying fire. There was just enough light to see bodies of other dogs lying where they had fallen outside.
She and Matt leaned on each other, looking around, bewildered.
It had finally stopped snowing.
Slowly, Elena opened her eyes.
Everything was very clear and calm.
She was glad the shrieking was over. That had been bad; it had hurt. Now, nothing hurt. She felt as if her body were filled with light again, but this time there was no pain. It was as if she were floating, very high and easy, on wafts of air. She almost felt she didn't have a body at all.
She smiled.
Turning her head didn't hurt, although it increased the loose, floating feeling. She saw, in the oblong of pale light on the floor, the smoldering remains of a silvery dress. Katherine's lie of five hundred years ago had become the truth.
That was that, then. Elena looked away. She didn't wish anyone harm now, and she didn't want to waste time on Katherine. There were so many more important things.
"Stefan," she said and sighed, and smiled. Oh, this was nice. This must be how a bird felt.
"I didn't mean for things to turn out this way," she said, softly rueful. His green eyes were wet. They filled again, but he returned her smile.
"I know," he said. "I know, Elena."
He understood. That was good; that was important. It was easy to see the things that were really important now. And Stefan's understanding meant more to her than all the world.
It seemed to her that it had been a long while since she'd really looked at him. Since she'd taken time to appreciate how beautiful he was, with his dark hair and his eyes as green as oak leaves. But she saw it now, and she saw his soul shining through those eyes. It was worth it, she thought. I didn't want to die; I don't want to now. But I'd do it all over again if I had to.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you," he said, squeezing their joined hands.
The strange, languorous lightness cradled her gently. She could scarcely feel Stefan holding her.
She would have thought she'd be terrified. But she wasn't, not as long as Stefan was there.
"The people at the dance—they'll be all right now, won't they?" she said.
"They'll be all right now," Stefan whispered. "You saved them."
"I didn't get to say good-bye to Bonnie and Meredith. Or Aunt Judith. You have to tell them I love them."
"I'll tell them," Stefan said.
"You can tell them yourself," panted another voice, hoarse and unused sounding. Damon had pulled himself across the floor behind Stefan. His face was ravaged, streaked with blood, but his dark eyes burned at her. "Use your will, Elena. Hold on. You have the strength—"
She smiled at him, waveringly. She knew the truth. What was happening was only finishing what had been started two weeks ago. She'd had thirteen days to get things straight, to make amends with Matt and say good-bye to Margaret. To tell Stefan she loved him. But now the grace period was up.
Still, there was no point in hurting Damon. She loved Damon, too. "I'll try," she promised.
"We'll take you home," he said.
"But not yet," she told him gently. "Let's wait just a little while."
Something happened in the fathomless black eyes, and the burning spark went out. Then she saw that Damon knew, too.
"I'm not afraid," she said. "Well—only a little." A drowsiness had started, and she felt very comfortable, but as if she were falling asleep. Things were drifting away from her.
An ache rose in her chest. She was not much afraid, but she was sorry. There were so many things she would miss, so many things she wished she had done.
"Oh," she said softly. "How funny."
The walls of the crypt seemed to have melted. They were gray arid cloudy and there was something like a doorway there, like the door that was the opening to the underground room. Only this was a doorway into a different light.