Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Chapter 38 - The Road Rejoined

~~~***~~~

"Harry?" Cho asked, looking through a haze of smoke, billowing from the small fire burning before her. "Is it really you?"

As Cho stood and stepped toward him, he notice that she looked... thinner than he last remembered, perhaps a bit too thin. Her eyes held a wisdom he had not seen before, but at a cost - they held no joy. He wiped the tears from his face and tried to shake the haunting tone of her song from his mind.

"Hi," he whispered with a sniff, trying to muster a smile.

The days of April saw the melting of the winter's snow and the budding of blossoms throughout the forest, but the evenings were still frosty and, as he stepped toward Cho, he rubbed his hands by the fire. It didn't help; he still felt cold.

On the ground beside Cho, he could see a tuft of black hair protruding from a bundle of blankets - Jamie lay sleeping. Seeing his son, the beat of Harry's heart began to quicken. Multiple emotions swirled within him - a fullness of love, an eagerness to protect, and the first true awareness of fatherhood. Yet, even though these feelings energized his inner core, he still felt cold.

Cho stood and wrapped her arms around him and he returned the gesture, sensing, for a moment, the echoes of the love he had once felt for her, the passion they once shared, the closeness that brought them the boy that now lay sleeping. Knowing the lengths he would go to shield her from any more harm, he pulled her close and felt the beating of her heart next to his. And even as he felt her bosom rise and fall with every breath, so too did a chill rise up his spine and crash within his soul.

He began to shiver and she pulled away to look into his eyes, eyes he did not wish to share.

"Harry, what is it?" she asked, reaching up and placing her heated hand against his chilled cheek.

He could sense her gaze looking deeper within his soul, and was eager to look away that his own eyes might set upon anything but her sad face. Yet, he remained steadfast, knowing what he must do, what he must say. He took her hand into his and began to tell the story as he had promised Gabriella he would. His words were quiet, slow and deliberate; each building upon those that came before. For four weeks he had practiced them as he helped Sirius rebuild the castle Harry had destroyed, the castle in which Anthony Goldstein, Cho's husband, had been killed by Harry's hand. Stone by stone Harry and Sirius worked to raise the fallen walls. It was tedious and monotonous and, in those hours of brick upon mortar, as Harry mixed brawn and magic to remake what was undone, his mind calmed and his heart found the rhythm of nature that it had lost.

It was not until the last day, this very day, that Harry knew his work with Sirius was done and that it was time to complete his oath and tell Cho all that had happened. Sirius slept while Harry laid the last stone and, still upon his knees, said a prayer declaring his remorse and asking for forgiveness. It was in that moment that he could feel life return, flowing through him and infusing the stones with an energy they had not previously known under the Black family crest. The castle and all Harry had destroyed had been healed. All that is except for the life that Harry had taken, the life that could not now be restored - Anthony Goldstein's.

Standing by the fire as he bared his soul to Cho, he watched, with each passing phrase, the colour slowly drain from her face. Her hands began to tremble as she stared in disbelief. At last, Harry completed the story's telling, a story of fire and his unquenchable thirst for victory at all cost.

"I'm sorry," choked Harry.

"But it was Malfoy!" she cried. "I... I saw him. I... I killed him!"

"No," answered Harry softly, slowly shaking his head. "It was me. I ruined the castle. I destroyed Anthony."

In a flash, Cho pulled her wand and held it at Harry's throat; he did not move.

"YOU'RE LYING! TAKE IT BACK!"

Heartfelt pain passed across Harry's face. He wished that he could take it back. That somehow it was within his power, but there was nothing he could do. There was nothing anyone could do. Tears began to pool at the bottom of his eyes. It was then that Cho knew. She had killed, not an innocent man, but a guilty one for the wrong reasons. She stepped away from Harry, looked at her own wand with horror and dropped it into the fire.

"No!" she wailed.

Quickly, before it flamed, Harry reached down and pulled the willow wand from the embers with his bare hand. Holding it out, he stepped toward her, but Cho stepped back.

"I... I killed him," she said, shattered by what she'd done. "With that wand, I murdered him."

"It wasn't murder."

"He didn't deserve to die!"

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "He was torturing me and, given more time, would have killed me. This wand saved my life. You... you saved my life." These last words held a deeper meaning and began to calm her. "After it was over, the moment I had to tell you, to tell everyone slipped through my fingers. In my mind I didn't think it would matter, but it was really my shame. I couldn't bear to tell you that I had killed Anthony."

"But it does matter!" she yelled, and ran at him, hammering his chest with her fist. "It does! It does. It does." Harry stood still, letting her collapse against him and sob into his jacket.

"I know," he whispered. "I've always known. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to realize that."

For quite some time they stood by the fire and Cho cried on Harry's chest. She spoke of her love for Tony, and of losing the dream they shared together. She cursed Harry's arrogance and continued, on occasion, to hammer her fist into his chest. Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Cho clenched the front of his jacket, put her head against his chest and whispered, "I understand."

The chill in Harry's fingers receded and the fire's warmth spread across the side of his body. He pulled her close and drew in a long deep breath, and then, slowly, exhaled.

"Please," he whispered, "sit with me."

They both sat next to Jamie and stared at the fire for a while. Finally, Harry broke the silence. "How has he been?" he asked, peeking under the blanket that covered his son's head.

"I... I think, somehow, he knows. Maybe it's just me, but with each passing day, he's been getting more irritable. He can't possibly know what's coming, but somehow he does."

"Maybe he knows his mother's worried."

"Maybe," she said, nodding her head. "But the Centaurs... Macleta, she's been good to us. I didn't think I'd ever get over Draco attacking me."

"He'll pay for that," spat Harry fiercely.

"I don't know," said Cho, looking out into the darkness. "Maybe I should have killed them both."

"You should never have been put into that position. That's my fault. I'll see it doesn't happen again."

"Well, I'm safe here. Macleta's been watching over us both like a mother hen. She was here a moment ago; I don't know where she just--"

"I asked her to leave before I came to camp. It's kind of... telepathy." Cho looked at him with surprise. He shrugged. "I've been training with the Centaurs here for some time. She knew I was coming before I stepped one foot into the forest."

It's just... I didn't want her here when I told you," he continued. "They think we're mates."

"No," Cho said. "Gabriella is--"

"And Gabriella," Harry interrupted. "Centaurs are not monogamous and Jamie here is proof enough that you're my first... well, Centaurs are quite perceptive."

"They know the war's coming here," said Cho. "More Centaurs have been arriving every day, preparing for the battle. All they can talk about is that comet." For the first time, Cho's eyes left the fire and looked toward the sky. There, shimmering through the smoky haze, was Ebyrth as bright and fiery as ever. When she looked back down, her eyes met Harry's. The shadows of the firelight made her face appear thinner, skeletal. "Is he really coming for Jamie?" she asked, the slightest tremble in her voice.

"Yes," said Harry without hesitation. "He can't get here by coming round the mountains. I've seen to that. He'll have to pass through Hogsmeade first, then the school. If, by some miracle, he passes through both those lines of defence, he'll find the forest holds yet more surprises. You'll be safe."

"We should leave," said Cho, beginning to stand. "We're putting everyone at risk."

"No!" snapped Harry, taking hold of her arm. "Cho, he's vapour, nothing more than smoke and spirit. If you leave, he'll find you; he'll find Jamie. Spirit will become substance, and he'll become more dangerous than he ever was before."

Harry turned and took Cho's hand.

"Don't you see?" he said. "Now is our last, best hope. Now, when he's at his weakest, when we know where he wants to strike. There's nowhere in the world safer than with the Centaurs. Trust me; I swear."

Cho nodded her head and sat still, turning once more toward the fire. There was a rustling through the trees and a moment later Macleta stepped through. She wasn't smiling, but her face was peaceful and proud.

"Your journey has been long, Harry Potter," said the Centaur as she offered a slight bow. "Can I offer you something to drink?" Harry stood and bowed as well, returning the sign of respect.

"It's a pleasure to find you well Macleta. I would--" He stopped, sensing that the Centaur was shielding her mind for some reason. "Is all well?" he asked.

"These are troubled times," she replied, looking up to the stars. "Soon, there will be fire in the sky." Harry's mind turned toward the dragons that he had summoned to guard the mountain passes behind the forest. Time was indeed short and he had yet to visit the castle.

"Thank you, Macleta," he said, bowing once more, "but I must be going. There are many preparations still to be done. It is my hope that his forces never make it to the forest."

"If they do," answered Macleta with a calm voice, "they will be decimated."

Harry glanced once more at his son and then to Cho.

"Stay here," he said. "You'll be safe with the Centaurs." He began to leave, but stopped just before he left the fire's light. He turned back to Cho. "I love you," he said with determined eyes. "I love you both." He turned back toward the castle and ran.

He darted through the forest, weaving through trees, passing Centaur after Centaur. Just as he had on his way in, he noticed too the presence of ghosts, dozens upon dozens of ghosts. He would feel their chill if he accidentally ran through one and occasionally he would notice their stare - keen eyes, nervous and searching, like first years at King's Cross Station, looking for Platform nine and three-quarters. Harry once had eyes like those. In fact, he wondered if-- boom!

Darkness and stars filled Harry's vision as he fell dizzily to the earth. Unable to gather his senses, he reached haphazardly for his wand. He hadn't been watching in front of him; had he run into a tree? There was someone, something moving in front of him. Harry shook his head, trying to dislodge the cobwebs from his mind.

"Nearly a year of training and this is what you have to show for it?" blasted a stern voice, deep and sorrowful. "I told you your wizard training was a waste. You can't even walk through the forest."

"R-Ronan?" Harry asked, rising to a sitting position. His vision was clearing and he could just make out the Centaur in front of him. "Ronan, is that--" He stopped himself. Of course it was Ronan. He didn't need to see to know that.

"I had heard you were in the forest," the Centaur replied, not offering Harry any assistance. "There were those who questioned, but I knew you would return. None too soon."

Balancing against the trunk of a tree, Harry took to his feet. He felt something trickle down his face and when he reached up to wipe it away he realized his left temple was gashed. He rubbed the blood in his fingers, pulled out his wand and tried to heal the wound as best he could. Cuts that couldn't be seen were always tricky; those on the face being the most difficult.

"I... I had to set my affairs in order," said Harry, wincing as his wand sealed the wound.

"Humph," grunted Ronan. "I've seen your... affairs. You've been busy, Harry Potter, but not for the right reasons. Still, the Centaurs will fulfil their oath to the family of the Chosen. As long as I draw breath, they are both safe here. You know, two mates for one so young... it is not wise in times of war."

"Wisdom was never one of my strong suites," said Harry. He was about to ask what Ronan meant by both, when the Centaur snorted.

"Clearly they are from the same stock. Are they twins?"

"Twins?" asked Harry with surprise. "Not even close. You couldn't find two women with such different--"

"Same height, same long, black hair," interrupted Ronan. "They seem like twins to me, but then it is difficult for a Centaur to tell you wizards apart, except perhaps that red haired friend of yours. I would recognize him from a dozen furlongs away."

Harry's face fell almost at once. He'd heard that Ron had been taken by Voldemort. He'd heard that he had something to do with Dumbledore's death. There was a part of Harry that was angry at his best friend and a part that was guilty for not having seen Voldemort's plan sooner. It had all become a muddled mess and it seemed to Harry that, taken on whole, things weren't going so well.

As saddened as Cho was for having killed Lucius for the wrong reasons, Harry recognized that the loss of Lucius' relatively sane leadership would strike a blow at the Death Eaters. Remus had said that Snape was taken by Voldemort. Harry thought that combination might make for a formidable opponent, but Remus was more optimistic, although he never explained why. As for Draco, Harry had heard nothing of the younger Malfoy save for the disturbing news of his attack on Cho. Yet there had been no word of the wizard since; it was as if he'd fallen from the face of the earth. Harry felt in his heart that Draco had some larger role to play and, if he was now more vampire than human, more dark wizard than light, it would be incumbent upon Harry not to hesitate the next time the two wizards met. But could he kill him? It, somehow, didn't feel right.

"You are troubled?" asked Ronan as the two walked in the loamy earth of the forest toward Hogwarts castle. Harry let out a short, tight laugh.

"Troubled?" he said, stopping to consider one particularly crooked tree. It was dead. The bark on its trunk had been pealed away and there were no leaves on any of its many gnarled branches. "There is a darkness descending upon us and I am to blame. One poor decision after another has cost the life of a friend and a... a father, our only hope out of this war."

"I see," said Ronan solemnly. "But do you? After all this time, have you learned nothing?" Ronan stood, waiting, Harry knew, for the young wizard to decipher his words. They would not leave this spot unless Harry... he closed his eyes and reached out with his mind to see the world around him.

The tree, which at first sight had appeared so dead, so lifeless, was anything but. Its trunk was pulsating with energy and the inner core of its branches was busily preparing to burst forth with the coming of spring. Its roots were brighter still, plunging deep into the earth below Harry's feet and then outward. Harry turned and found them connected to other such trees scattered about the forest. These were the Casses trees, an interlocked network that ran all through the forest, a network the Centaurs used to know anything and everything that happened in these woods.

"You are still so very much a wizard," bemoaned Ronan. "If there had been more time... ten or twenty years perhaps." The Centaur hoofed the ground, shaking his head. Then, slowly, his gaze looked to the heavens. "It is, almost always, a steady, rhythmic pattern. The sun and earth, the moon and stars, all dancing to the same music, each knowing the other's role to play. So it is with life, Harry Potter. And yet, every now and then, something magnificently different enters the sky."

"Ebyrth," whispered Harry, looking to the sky himself and watching the comet high above.

"Ebyrth," echoed Ronan. "I have seen the coming of these days for over a year. The skies have shown me the role of the Chosen, the death of Albus Dumbledore, the war and the great battle that now approaches us."

"Then you know the outcome," said Harry, almost as if in question.

"No," replied Ronan dispassionately. "Ebyrth does not dance well with others. It hears a different music. Soon, we will know. It will be close."

"What will be close?" asked Harry, frustration building in his voice. He'd heard these words before.

"Ebyrth draws close to Mars. If the two should strike, it would mean the end of Ebyrth, the end of all wars between Centaur and Dementor."

"And that's a good thing, right?"

"In that battle, Mars destroys Ebyrth. There are those of my kin that believe the collision is inevitable and that Mars will be victorious." Ronan looked down at Harry, his face as grave and sorrowful as Harry had ever seen it. "You may be a wizard, but I know you understand what that means. There won't be any more wars because there won't be any more Centaurs left to fight. We will be shattered, consumed."

Harry's eyes shot back toward the heavens. He'd never really paid any attention before, but now he could see. It all made sense. Ebyrth was moving closer and closer to the red planet. He turned back to face Ronan.

"And you... what do you see, Ronan?"

The Centaur sighed. "It will be close." He then turned and started to walk toward Hogwarts.

The two said nothing more as they made there way to the edge of the forest. They could have run, but chose instead to walk. Despite their capabilities to manipulate time and space, Centaurs rarely ever did. They chose instead to bathe in the moment of time, to soak in the here and now and so it was with Harry and Ronan. They came at last to a Centaur guard at the outer ring of the forest. There was another archer to his left and one to his right each some fifty meters away. This was the outer ring of defence and probably meant that the entire forest was encircled with hundreds of Centaurs. Looking at the lone guardian it seemed that he could be easily overwhelmed, but Harry knew that every Centaur across the forest could be at his side in a matter of moments.

As Harry started toward the castle, Ronan took him by the shoulder. "It will be hours not weeks, Harry Potter. The wave grows larger and ever closer to the shore. There is one who believes it will crest on the coming full moon."

Harry smiled. "Ronan, are you making a prediction?"

"Just this," said Ronan, looking above Harry's head and toward the castle. "Your heart will soon feel great joy and sorrow. So it is with wizards."

With these words the Centaur turned and walked away. Likewise, Harry started up the hill toward the castle. He sniffed a hint of hickory in the air and looked up. Smoke was billowing out of the chimney from Hagrid's hut, but there were no lights on inside. It was strange, walking the grounds so late at night after being gone so long, strange and yet familiar. In an hour or two, the sun would rise and the now quiet grass fields would be bustling with students. There was a thin layer of frost on the turf and it crunched beneath his feet. A slight chill spread through his body and he pulled the jacket Gabriella had given him as a Christmas gift tight about his neck. The silence started his mind to wondering why there wasn't anyone about, guarding the castle grounds. It was likely that they had been positioned more forward, in and around Hogsmeade.

He reached out with his mind through the darkness. At the very entrance to the castle was a wizard. From this distance, it was difficult to make out more than that he was seated. Through the walls of Hagrid's hut he could see the half-giant sleeping, Fang on the floor by Hagrid's bed. It was then that he caught the glint of two others down near the lake. They were crouched, looking up toward the castle. Harry drew his wand. If they had been guards, their gaze would have been out across the water. He pulled his invisibility cloak out from his pocket, put it on and quietly made his way down toward the pair, cursing himself for not knowing some spell to silence his footsteps.

He was fifty meters away when he knew by the pair of auras who it was and he lowered his wand. His emotions began to swirl as he continued forward and, by the light of the waxing moon, could make out their faces. He stopped not knowing what he should do. They were whispering. He stepped closer to hear, but then stumbled on a stone.

"STUPEFY!"

A blast of red light flew toward Harry. He barely had time to react, only partially deflecting the spell and falling backwards on the ground. He began to slide down the slope toward the lake, his cloak slipping off and over his head. There was another blast of red light, striking just to his left, vaporizing the frosty grass and spraying his face with tepid drips of water that quickly chilled in the night's air.

"Stup--"

"Hermione, STOP!"

"But it's--"

"It's--"

"Harry? Oh, Merlin... Harry!"

He stopped as his feet hit the sandy shore of the beach by the lake and, before he could gather himself, he was scooped into Hermione's arms in a grand hug. She kissed his cheek and pulled the hair from his face, looking for some injury.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Oh, no! Your temple. Oh, I'm so sorry."

"That wasn't you; that was me. I ran into a tree," answered Harry. She pulled him close with a tight squeeze against her shoulder. "Im deh borfest," he said through the folds of her cloak.

"Let the man breathe, for Merlin's sake," said Ron. He took Harry by the hand...

"Come on, mate."

...and pulled him to his feet.

Harry began to swipe the debris from his clothes and looked back up toward the castle doors. Whoever was seated there hadn't moved.

"Filch," said Hermione, answering Harry's unspoken question. "Every other wizard is sleeping or in Hogsmeade. First through third years evacuate tomorrow, well, today after breakfast; the rest of the students refuse to leave. Most of them, that is."

"I bet you can guess which upperclassmen chose to leave," added Ron. "Snakes, every one of 'em. Good riddance, I say."

Harry was silent. He'd noticed Hermione's eyes, they were red and swollen. She'd been crying and not just a little bit. When Harry looked at Ron, he saw very much the same thing. Here they were, his two best friends, on the eve of almost certain destruction. They probably had been preparing for the battle for weeks, while Harry was in Greece, laying brick upon brick.

"Have you seen them, then?" asked Hermione earnestly. "Cho and Jamie."

Harry nodded. "Yes," he muttered, barely able to say a word. "They're well. They're safe."

"There's nowhere in the world safer, Harry," said Hermione, holding his arm. "You were right to send them here."

"Not quite..." Harry swallowed. "Not quite the way..." An onrush of guilt swarmed upon him and he began to find it difficult to breathe. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I was such a fool. If I would have lost you... either of you..."

For a moment neither Ron, nor Hermione said a word. It was an awkward silence, Ron looking at Hermione, then to Harry, and back to Hermione again. They were talking to each other with their eyes, Ron and Hermione hiding something, but Harry chose not to press further. One thing was clear enough, what had happened at Hogwarts while Harry was away was bad, and whatever forgiveness he had hoped to garner from his friends would take some time before they shared it with him.

"Come on, mate," said Ron, taking Harry by the shoulder. "Let's take you up to the castle. I can smell the morning sausages cooking already."

Hermione came to his other side and put her arm about his waist. "Ron," she said severely, "I don't want you playing any more tricks on Filch. I don't care how much he's blamed you for what's happened."

As they made their way up the castle steps, Harry noticed Filch seated in a chair by the front doors. Dressed in something resembling a clown's suit, he was sleeping with Mrs. Norris in his lap. He had a bulbous red nose, his face was white, and his hair was no wig, but curled and shaded a dust colour so that it resembled his cat's fur.

"If he calls me a murderer again," said Ron coolly, "I'll make sure the changes are permanent."

As the three passed through the castle doors, Harry took one last look at the comical Filch. His insides twisted. He wasn't sure if he should laugh, or cry.

~~~***~~~

Gabriella watched as Harry left Cho by the small fire outside the Centaur compound. She deliberately stayed hidden, not wanting to ruin what he was to do. When, at last, he departed, she couldn't have been more proud, more happy. She had refused to see Harry until he'd completed his penance and now that oath was fulfilled. Mama had spoken of his anxiousness to return to Hogwarts and face the coming battle, but also of his steadfast determination to see his deadly deed undone even if it meant raising Sirius' castle one stone at a time.

She had not spoken a word to Cho; that was for Harry to do. But now her friend needed her and Gabriella moved out of the compound to be at Cho's side. She bowed to Macleta who nodded in return and then continued to gaze outward into the bracken of the forest. Jamie began to stir and Cho lifted him up into her arms, gently patting his back.

"Hi," said Gabriella in a soft voice.

"Hi," replied Cho, rocking Jamie in her arms. She chuckled sadly to herself. "He slept the whole time Harry was here and the moment he leaves... it's like he knows."

"Maybe it's like Harry said," Gabriella responded, placing her hand on Cho's thigh. "He knows his mother."

Cho nodded and shrugged, staring into the fire and slowly rocking her child. "You knew, didn't you?" she asked Gabriella.

"Yes," whispered Gabriella. "But it was not my place to tell."

"How long?"

"As soon as I saw the extent of the damage, I knew. That's why I tried to get you to Hogwarts as soon as I could. I could see where your anger was leading, fed by what Harry had done, but directed at the wrong foe."

"You could have stopped me."

"Perhaps, if Harry had not been in such pain... if I had convinced you sooner. But then, you might have come to Hogwarts as Voldemort had planned and been taken."

Cho looked away. "I wish I had been," she whispered to the earth. "I wish this was over."

"Don't say that! Don't even think it. We need you. We need you both alive and well."

Cho did not respond, but Gabriella bent over and kissed Jamie on the forehead and then kissed Cho on the cheek. "I will never let any harm come to you. Do you understand me? Never!" Gabriella stood. "Please, set Jamie down for a moment and stand with me."

As Cho put Jamie down, Gabriella slipped off the brilliantly white cloak she was wearing. "Here," said Gabriella, offering the cloak to Cho. "Put this on."

"Gab, no," said Cho, "I couldn't possibly. It's too beautiful."

"It is magnificent," said Gabriella with a smile, "but not too beautiful for you. Go on. Put it on." Cho took the white cloak from Gabriella's hand and put it on.

Macleta turned to see what the two young women were doing. She seemed disturbed. "The cloth," said the Centaur, shaking her head, "it is pure, but unnatural. Where you found it and why wizards would wear such a thing..." She shook her head and returned to her watch.

"Unnatural?" asked Cho.

"Magical," answered Gabriella quickly, smoothing out the wrinkles in the arms with her hand. "As long as you wear this cloak, no spell can strike you down." Cho's eyes widened.

"Gab, I can't possibly--"

"You can."

"But I'll be here, safe. You'll be out there--"

"I'll be... fine," replied Gabriella, her mind slipping to the vision of her fate. "Take it. Wear it always. Keep it as close as your dear Jamie and it may see you both through this war."

"Thank you," said Cho. She reached out and the two hugged.

"I best be going," whispered Gabriella, her eyes misting slightly. "It's been awhile since I've seen my... seen Harry."

Gabriella stepped toward Macleta to ask for a guide out of the forest, when through the trees walked a young, white Centaur - Felspar.

"I'm here, mother," said Felspar. "Shahan refused to escort a--"

"I understand," interrupted Macleta, shaking her head with disappointment. "Gabriella, my daughter will see you out of the forest. There are many guardians along the way. You will be safe."

"Thank you, Macleta," said Gabriella with a slight bow. "You have been, these last many days, like a mother to me. I will do all in my power to keep the battle from your door."

"We have no doors here, my lady," answered Macleta. "Only breezes carrying the coming of spring and open skies hailing the birth of a new star."

As Felspar walked Gabriella into the trees, the young witch turned back and waved to Cho. Her friend waved back, her white robe glimmering in the firelight. It was hard to believe that something so pure could come from one so wicked. Finally, Gabriella looked over to Macleta whose eyes were now fixed on the stars above. The Centaur's gaze was intent and her expression peaceful.

As Gabriella stepped further into darkness, she heard Macleta say softly, "It will be close."