"God, I hope this works," Quentin said. He was nervous. He was not afraid of dying, since apparently he has been really good at that, he was afraid of failing. He wondered what Jane Chattwin would change next time if they failed. He counted his life from the present till the moment he faced the beast. That span might now be minutes. Quentin looked to the clock in Christopher Plover's study. Was it nine o'clock here at the wellspring in Fillory or back on Earth?
"How about 'Thanks Margo, for saving all of our asses.'" Margo rolled her eyes.
"Let's just focus," Alice said. She turned away from the group, and practiced the positions of spells with her fingers. Quentin touched her shoulder. Alice turned to find his lips on her face.
"Whatever happens, I'm glad I found you."
"Me too." Alice kisses him again, this time properly.
Margo returned a flask to Eliot and he raised it towards Quentin with a wink. Eliot had been toasting to "Margo the Destroyer" ever since they returned to Fillory, as if they had already won the battle. Quentin had to admit, whatever they did was brilliant. The group found a man that possessed the only moonstones in Fillory, a substance powerful enough to kill anything. The problem: he only had two stones and the group did not have decades to wait before they reproduced and could be forged into something useful. On top of that, the price was steep.
Cue Eliot and Margo: they walked into his hut, stayed the night, and came out with moonstone crafted into two of Margo's bullets. They watched Quentin pick up a bullet and burn his fingers. It required a special incantation of course, they chided him. They kept forgetting how the words went as Quentin burned himself a dozen times. Finally, after reciting what seemed like a 90's alternative rock song, Quentin caught on. They showed him a pair of magical pincers that crafters use. Eliot hadn't put them down since, insisting he needed them to retrieve the beast-slaying stones for the earrings Margo would wear one day.
"You never told me how you got the moonstone. We tried everything."
"We traded them Earth magic." Eliot grinned and Margo giggled into his vest.
"You taught them Earth magic?" Quentin asked.
"No, we traded them." Eliot said, holding up a bag of different pills, each different sizes, shapes, and colors.
"For all the magic Fillory has, they are lacking in the party department. Did you know they don't have champagne?"
"You got magic-beast-killing bullets and a pair of tongs, while we came out with nothing."
"Well the tongs are a different story," Margo admitted.
"Yea... let's just say we are probably not going to be welcome back to his humble hut anytime soon."
Quentin grabbed a book off the shelf and opened it. There were words across each old page. It was real. He half expected it to be blank.
"Why do you think he chose the study? Of all the places..." he said.
"He does it to taunt me." A new voice was in the room. It was Jane Chattwin.
"He does it to goad me for not being there," Jane continued.
"You're here!" Quentin reached out a hand. It passed through her.
Jane shuddered and pulled her cloak tighter over her shoulders.
"Projection or not Quentin, that is extremely rude and feels... horrid. I'm here to see this through."
"And far away as an insurance policy," Penny said. He looked up from the papers on the desk to find a puzzled Quentin. "You know, in case we all kick the bucket again? Stay with us, man."
"Anyways... did anyone find the well, or anything useful?" Quentin tried to shake off his embarrassment.
"A medieval spell to cure warts," Penny said.
"I found Scotch!" Eliot sang as he produced a tray of glasses. "Now come on. Come together everyone."
They each obliged and took a glass from the tray.
"To being better than the last time!"
"Better than last time," they echoed.
"We finally did it." Julia laid her head on Quentin's shoulder.
"Jules, we haven't won yet."
"No, but we saw Fillory together. Just like we always said."
She hugged Quentin with one arm and pinched his chin with her other hand, just like when they discovered each other after the magic entrance exam. They both stepped out of the room wearing the same look of no one will believe this. Because she was there, it was real. They stayed up all night talking on the bed, afraid to go to sleep and wake up to the life they had before.
The lights flickered and they squeezed tighter.
First, the moths. The flurries concentrate, creating a body, now a head. The face is just about to form.
Bang.
The Beast stands with a red barrier around him, but the magic shield has a tiny hole that ripples outward. Where the beast stood, now he kneels. The moths swarm around the Beast's sternum, covering the blood. They begin falling off and dropping to their backs on the floor. They wriggle in a dark pool of blood and beat their wings. The bent man wriggles.
Julia is the first to break the trance, she begins casting a spell. Her hands glow. The man raises one hand as if to shield himself, then drops it to a chop. Both halves of Julia drop to the floor.
Eliot's hands move. He forms a red claw and jerks his wrist. The Beast's head snaps and cracks like gears each time it clicks another notch further from where its head should be. A six-fingered claw moves upward out of the cloud of moths. Eliot's feet slowly leave the ground. Then, he's thrown against the ceiling unable to move.
Margo raises the gun again. Her hands ignite. The gun clatters. Penny drops to the floor and scrambles. As he reaches for the gun, the moths rush and grab at his eyes. He cries out and disappears in a flash, the gun whips across the floor and spins towards Quentin. Penny reappears that same second and crashes into a wall of books. Quentin picks up the gun. He points it at the Beast. Eliot drops from the ceiling. Quentin sees the face of a man under the whirling moths.
"This isn't Christopher Plover." Quentin tries to look back at the group without letting the man out of his sight.
"It's not a person anymore. Just end it." Jane screams.
"Just like the movies Quentin, point it at the bad guy and squeeze!" Margo yells, clutching her blackened hands.
"Hurry!" Alice pleads.
Quentin looks to Julia for an answer. He sees her tangled body, dead. Dead beyond anything magic can fix. His eyes move to Jane who watches him, shaking her head.
"This is it Quentin. Don't be a fool, end this."
"I can't."
"I shan't reset the clock. Not this time. We've won Quentin. We'll never be this close again."
Quentin sees the man slip in the dark pool of blood. He is on his hands and knees now.
"I mean it Quentin," Jane's fist glows blue and tightens around the pocket watch."
"I will destroy it. This is the last time."
"Please Quentin! We did it," Alice begs.
He wasn't afraid of the Beast, of dying, of failing.
"I'm afraid of living without her."
He fires the gun at the floor.
Alice closes her eyes. The Beast rises and walks towards Quentin. The Beast is inches from his face, he can hear the rustle of the moths. The small gray hairs brush against his head and neck. The creatures probe his hair and face. They smell like old books and... mustard. A hand reaches out to him. Thick ribbons of blood cover the six fingers and the moths climb along its wrist. Quentin's throat closes. He cannot breathe. Blue eyes glow from within the cloud.
There is a white flash.
Time stops. The Beast's eyes are locked on Quentin. Their bodies are frozen, except for their eyes. Quentin blinks. Like the first time he saw the Beast in the classroom or like his whole life, Quentin is unable to move or act. His mind had always told him to run or hide. Now it said "stay."
The Beast steps back and kneels before Quentin. Quentin's body lowers and he sets the gun gently on the ground where it spins and glistens on the floor. The moths fly back to the man. Penny glides across the floor and stands. Eliot rises to the ceiling, floats back down, and lands softly on his feet. Julia slides back together, bends over moving hands, steps back, and back again. Quentin watches the room rewind. He waits as his body takes steps backwards, each step back bringing him closer to Julia, until they're in each other's arms again. He closes his eyes to stay there as long as he can.