CHAPTER 30

Back at the hut, I used my magic to whip up some tomato soup and hot tea. I told Mom and Dad what had happened, downplaying the horror of it as much as I could. As I did, Mom walked around the table, draping blankets over our shoulders. “We’re not in shock,” I told her, even as I clutched the material tighter around my neck.

“Well, you all look awful,” she said.

“Hell does wreak havoc on the skin,” Archer quipped, but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. Under the table, I put my hand on his knee, and he covered my fingers with his own.

“You say the cavern showed you scenes,” Dad said, poking at the fire even though it was already warm inside. “Jenna, it showed you the death of your sire.”

Jenna blew on her soup and gave Dad a look. “I called her my girlfriend, or Amanda, but yeah.”

Dad inclined his head. “Of course. Forgive me. Sophie, you saw Alice’s transformation.”

I nodded. “And the murder of my great-grandfather. Weird it showed me that when I’ve had so many other awful things happen directly to me,” I said, beginning to tick them off on my fingers. “Elodie getting killed, having to kill Alice, escaping a burning building with the help of a ghost…” And then, because both my parents looked so deflated, I added, “Oh, and this really heinous pageboy haircut in sixth grade.”

A few wan smiles appeared, but I think it was just to humor me.

“Yes, but that was the act that was directly responsible for all of those other horrible events,” Dad said. “Well, except for the haircut. I suspect that can be laid at your mother’s door.”

“James!” Mom protested, but I swear I heard affection behind it. I think Dad did, too, because his lips quirked upward briefly. His expression sobered, though, when he turned to Archer. “And you saw your parents murdered by demons.”

Archer clinked his spoon against the bottom of his bowl. “Just my dad. But when I—uh, baby-me came in, there was blood on my face that wasn’t mine, so I’m guessing my mom was already dead.”

Dad frowned, deep in thought.

“The lady demon was pregnant,” I told him. “And the guy looked just like Nick. I’m thinking they were his parents.”

“Of course,” Dad said, his eyes going wide. “The Anderson brothers. They both disappeared, along with their wives, about fifteen years ago. Everyone thought they’d just gone underground, so to speak. Lara was close to the youngest one’s wife. Very close.”

“Wait. So, the demon guy and Archer’s dad were brothers?” I asked. “Which makes Archer and Nick—”

“Cousins,” Archer filled in, still stirring his soup. “Nearly murdered by my own relative. That has to win some kind of medal for dysfunction.” Then his expression darkened. “Or maybe it’s just family tradition.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched out. Archer’s spoon clinked on his bowl as he swirled it around and around. Finally, he said, “Anderson?”

Dad met his eyes. “Yes. If I’m right, your father was the eldest. Martin. Your mother’s name was Elise.”

Archer’s throat moved convulsively. “That’s the name the guy—my dad—said. In the vision, or whatever it was.”

Dad smiled sadly. “I didn’t know your parents personally, but from everything I’ve heard, they were good people. And they were very devoted to their only child. You.”

Now the silence in the room felt like a heavy, tangible thing. Under the table, Archer’s fingers were vise-tight on mine. “Do you know—”

“Daniel,” Dad said, his voice soft. “Your name was Daniel Anderson.”

Archer dropped his head, and I watched two tears drip soundlessly into his soup. And then he was shoving back his chair, and out the door. I stood up to follow him. But Dad touched my arm. “Give him a minute.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded. “Right.”

Sniffing, I sat back down and curled my hands around my cup of tea. “So now what?”

“Well, now we at least have some way of defending ourselves against the demons the Casnoffs have,” Aislinn said, speaking up for the first time. She, Finley, and Izzy had met us at the shore, and the three of them were currently wrapping the demonglass into cloths and putting the shards in a canvas bag. “Between the three of us,” she said, gesturing to her daughters, “we could probably take them all out.”

I winced. “You mean, kill them.”

“No, take them all out for ice cream,” Finley scoffed, but her mother said in a low, dangerous voice, “Finley, Sophie walked into hell for us today. She’s as much a Brannick as you are, and you’ll talk to her with respect.”

Abashed, Finley looked at me under her lashes and muttered, “Sorry.”

“No problem,” I answered. “But I’m serious. Is…is killing them the only option?”

“It’s the easiest one,” Mom said, coming to sit in Archer’s empty chair. “Sweetie, I know some of those kids were your friends, but there’s no getting them back.”

“Is that true?” I asked Dad. “Are they gone for good?”

Dad shifted in his seat, uneasy. “Not necessarily. But Sophie, the risk involved in bringing them back…It’s almost too great to fathom.”

“I can fathom all kinds of things,” I told him. “Try me.”

I think I might have seen pride in Dad’s eyes. Or maybe it was just a gleam of Why is my offspring so insane? Still, he answered me. “If you destroy both the ritual and the witch or warlock who used it, the spell itself can be reversed.”

I shrugged. “That doesn’t sound so hard.”

“I wasn’t finished. They must be destroyed simultaneously.”

Swallowing, I tried to sound cheerful. “Again, not so bad. Get Lara to hold the piece of paper, zap them both with, um, some fire or something, and bam! Instant demon reversal.”

“And they must be destroyed in the pit where the demons were raised,” Dad continued, as if I hadn’t said anything. Seriously, he had to stop doing that. “Oh, and as the pièce de résistance, you’ll need to do a spell to close the pit itself, with both the ritual and the witch inside it. And that’s such an intense ritual that it could actually pull whatever’s around the pit into it as well.”

“Like, the person doing the spell?”

“Like, the whole damn island the pit is on.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, that is definitely…challenging. But not impossible. And we have the grimoire, that’s one bonus, right? Even if the demon-raising ritual isn’t in it.”

“Sophia Alice Mercer,” Mom said warningly, just as Dad said, “Atherton,” and Aislinn said, “Brannick.”

I threw my hands up. “Look, it doesn’t matter what you call me. I’ll hyphenate, how about that? But listen to me. I have to try, all right? For Nick, and Daisy, and Chaston, and Anna, and all the other kids they’ve turned into weapons over the years. Please.”

“Sophie’s right,” Cal said, leaning forward. “If we can stop the Casnoffs and turn those kids back…wouldn’t that be better than having to kill them?”

“I’m all for that,” Jenna said.

My parents looked at each other. A moment passed between them, and then Mom turned to her sister. “Can you buy her some time? Keep her safe until she can find the ritual and hopefully destroy it?”

“We can,” Finley said quickly, and Izzy nodded. “We’ll stay right by her. Even if she can’t destroy the witch, and the spell, and the pit, she can at least do one of those things, right? That has to be worth something.”

Dad blew out a long breath, rubbing his hands over his face. “Yes,” he finally said. “It’s worth something. It would be best if we arrive at night, don’t you think? Thanks to the time difference, that’s still a ways off at Graymalkin Island. So, dawn?” He gave a wry smile. “Again?”

And one by one, everyone nodded. At dawn we’d take the Itineris back to Hex Hall, and we’d finish this.

“Let me go tell Archer,” I said, shoving the blanket off me as I stood up. Outside, the wind had picked up, and it blew my hair in my face as I scanned the shore for him. When I didn’t see him, I poked my head into his tent. He wasn’t there, either. Moving around the back of the house, I shaded my eyes against the sun, looking for a familiar dark figure among all the green and rock.

I saw a movement in my peripheral vision, and turned toward it, relieved.

But it wasn’t Archer. It was Elodie, wavering in the breeze. In the daylight, she was even more translucent than normal, and her red hair fluttered around her like she was underwater. “He’s gone,” she mouthed. “He took the Itineris.”

Stomach sinking, I asked, “Where?” but I already knew.

Elodie just confirmed it when she said, “To The Eye. He told me to tell you he’s sorry, but he had to.”

I blinked back tears that had nothing to do with the sun or the wind. “You saw him?”

“I’ve been hanging around since you got here. I just wasn’t making myself visible. But he must’ve known I was here because he called me. He said I didn’t owe him anything, but I did owe you something.”

She was so faint that it was hard to tell, but I thought I saw regret cross her face. “He was right. I’m sorry about the thing with Cal. It wasn’t fair hurting the two of you just to hurt Archer.”

“Apology accepted,” I told her. I was surprised to discover I meant it. “What else did he say?”

“Just that. He’s going to The Eye, and he’s sorry.” She screwed up her face. “Oh, some weird thing about telling you that he still feels the same way about that tent, and he promises to say it to you in person next time he sees you.”

I gave a bark of laughter that was more of a sob. “That asshat,” I blubbered.

Elodie nodded in sympathy. “Such an asshat.”

When I’d left Thorne Abbey, I’d held Archer’s sword and had a sense that somehow things would turn out all right. Please, I thought. The rest of my magic is back, so let me have that power, too.

But there was no reply except the whistling of the wind.