Chapter Four
The air rushing across me cooled my burning cheek. Blood from the wound in my shoulder soaked my sleeve. Fear rocked my bones, and I wanted to give up, just let the dark take me somewhere else, not there, not in the gateway of hell with Veronique. Her fist connected hard against my side and knocked me to my senses.
She can’t win.
I threw my elbow back and clipped her chin.
Veronique lost hold of me and spun away.
Unable to see where she was, I formed a light globe and tossed it in front of me. The sphere flew with us, illuminating the gateway.
Veronique struggled to unsheathe the Chiave sword. I threw my battle globe to stop her. It barely missed her, so I threw another, and it shattered against her side.
Her shriek sounded over the wailing wind, and she lost hold of her sword. The blade careened past me and nicked my thigh.
I broke through the gateway and landed hard on a marble floor. Books from a nearby case scattered around me, and my light globe popped at my side.
The handle of the Chiave tapped the tiles at the same time Veronique landed on top of it, the blade impaling her chest.
Glass rained down on us, several pieces embedding into my skin, and I winced.
With some effort, I crawled to her. My stomach rose and fell like an angry sea at the sight of the blood pulsing out from where the sword had pushed through her breastbone. The blade shook with each of Veronique’s shocked breaths.
No words came to me. My mind was numb, but my body was alive with pain.
A gurgling sound came from her mouth.
Veronique coughed, her bright blue eyes focused on me. “Don’t be weak, Gia. You’re a Sentinel for the Wizard Council. I would have killed you.” Her breathing went shallow, and her next words came out quiet and pained. “We are all between good and evil. Make sure yours is the right side—” A cough cut off her words. “They lie to you. Seek The Red. He knows—” Her final breath cut off her words.
She’s dead. Her stare had frozen, her body was bloodied and stiff, and she was still beautiful. I’d never know why she wanted me to find The Red. I didn’t know where the beefy Laniar lived. My eyes slid back to her.
The sadness surprised me. She’d killed Kale, after all, and tried to kill me. She deserved to die. But as I stared at her face, I could see a six-year-old girl training to be a killer like her father wanted. Trying to please him while he used her. Most likely, she’d never received love. Not like the Pop kind of love that I grew up with.
Forget her. Wipe it away.
A Monitor had to have picked up her jump. I had to get out of there before someone came to investigate. But I had to get the Chiavi, and one was sticking out of Veronique’s chest. I untied the velvet bag and removed it from her waist. I opened it, and the other Chiavi and ancient spell book were inside.
My eyes slid to the sword. The blade had gone all the way through her chest. Her back was lifted a little, propped up by the handle sticking out the other side.
“Okay. I can do this. There’re two worlds full of people at stake.”
I heaved her onto her side and grasped the handle of the sword. With my eyes closed, I took a deep breath and yanked and yanked and yanked until the sword was free. A slurping, then a gushing sound came from her. Blood pooled around her, and I recoiled from it, my back crashing into a bookcase.
Blood ran down the sword. There was nothing to wipe it clean except a corner of Veronique’s trench coat. I ran the blade across the material, slid it into my empty scabbard, and tied the velvet bag to my belt.
I went over to the gateway book, my fingers trembling. Blood dripped from my sleeve and hit the pages. I flipped all the pages, leaving bloody prints on each so no one could tell that I’d jumped to the Boston Athenæum.
The library was quiet when I landed. Its familiarity was welcoming—like coming home. I struggled down the stairs, my injuries causing me to wince with each labored step. There was a phone at the reception desk, and I used it to dial Nana Kearns’s number. It rang five times, and I was about to hang up when someone answered.
“Hello?” a girl’s voice came through the receiver.
“Katy—Katy Kearns.” My voice sounded scratchy. I swallowed. “Is she there?”
“No. Who is this?”
I recognized that voice.
“Emily?”
Hearing her brought back memories of Arik breaking up with me to go out with her. She’d used a charm, becoming his puppet master, pulling the strings to make him do things he never would’ve if not for her evil, devious plans.
“Gia, is that you?”
Nana wasn’t there. I needed help. She’d have to do.
“I’m hurt. Can you come and get me?” I wanted to lie down, close my eyes, and pretend this night hadn’t happened.
“You’re hurt?” Emily said, panic in her voice. “Oh my gosh, how bad is it?”
“I’ll be fine. Just come now.”
“Where are you?”
“The Athenæum. Meet me at the graveyard.”
“Be right there.” She hung up, and I dropped the phone.
At least the charmed keycard Arik had given me unlocked the library’s door on the first try. The rest of the night had gone horribly wrong, and this little thing working gave me hope. I slipped outside and hobbled to the street, then up Beacon to Tremont. It wasn’t a very long walk to the Granary Burying Grounds, but with all my wounds, it was laborious. The velvet bag holding the Chiavi grew heavy as I grew weaker. The rope tied around my wrist dug into my skin. I waited for an older couple walking a Pomeranian to pass before unlocking the gate and entering the graveyard.
Weak and tired, I hid behind one of the stone columns of the arched entrance. The grave markers were silent concrete bodies lined up in the ground and cloaked in darkness, some of them seeming to lean in sadness against the others.
With my back resting on the wall, I slid down and sat on the ground. I closed my eyes, just wanting to sleep. Maybe when I woke up, this nightmare would’ve been a dream, and the pain would be gone.
Don’t sleep.
I pushed myself back to my feet. If I was standing, I couldn’t fall asleep.
Nearly forty minutes later, a small white car pulled up to the curb and stopped. The passenger window whirred and screeched open.
“Gia,” Emily called, somewhat louder than a whisper.
I dragged my beaten body out from behind the gate and hobbled to the car. Every bit of me ached as I settled into the passenger seat.
“You look bad.” She switched the car into drive and sped off. “What happened?”
The world spun, and my stomach reeled. “Veronique. She attacked me.”
“Oh no,” she said. “I will kill her one day, I swear.”
“Too late. She’s dead…” I trailed off as the darkness squeezed around me.
…
Something cool and wet dragged across my forehead, and I opened my eyes to see Emily staring down at me. I tried to sit up, but she gently pushed me back down. I recognized the antique dresser and squeaky double bed. They were from Nana Kearns’s guest room, but I wasn’t in the room in Mission Hills. The windows were different and on the wrong side of the room.
Emily’s dark hair was pulled back, and the frown she was giving me wrinkled her forehead and moved her widow’s peak. “Don’t get up,” she said. “I have Nana’s gunk holding your wounds closed.”
“Where is she?” My voice sounded like I had swallowed a handful of gravel. I pushed myself up the pillows to sit.
Emily grabbed a glass of water off the nightstand. “In Seattle. She’s trying to get a flight home. I’m supposed to keep you down and cool. You’re a mess, and you have a high fever.”
“This isn’t her house. Did she move?”
“Yes,” Emily said, handing me the glass. “They sent us into hiding for our safety. We’re in Jamaica Plains. It’s a pretty cool place.”
“Nana has the same phone number. Someone can track you here.”
“She didn’t want to change numbers in case you called. She placed a ward on the line. No one can trace it back to this house.”
“You said they sent you into hiding. Who are they?”
Her eyebrow rose slightly as she gave me a concerned look. “Asile’s guards, of course. Why do you ask?”
Did they know Pop’s and Afton’s locations, too? I’d been hiding from everyone for months, except Uncle Philip. Veronique had said she’d learned my whereabouts from a spy. Having Asile know where my family and friends were sat uneasily in my mind.
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just groggy. How long have I been sleeping?”
“About three days.”
I took several sips of water from the glass and handed it back to her.
She placed her palm on my forehead. “Man, you’re boiling.”
“I feel fine,” I said.
“That’s because I poured a great deal of Nana’s elixir down your throat. You should be floating.” She placed the glass on the nightstand and picked up one of Nana’s jars of ointment.
I was definitely floating. My arm felt heavy as I touched the gauze taped to my cheek.
“See, all your moving around opened that shoulder wound.” She must’ve noticed the worry on my face because she paused. “Give it time to heal. The scar should be faint. A little makeup will hide it.”
A little? I doubted it. It was a pretty deep gash. But I appreciated her attempt at easing my fears. “Nana’s been training you well, huh?” I said.
Her fingers plunged into the gunk, and she dabbed a blob of it onto the wound in my shoulder. “Listen, I know you don’t like me. I’m so sorry about Arik. I would never have placed that spell on him. It wasn’t me, you know? It was that Bane Witch’s spirit Conemar used to possess me.”
We’d gone over this before. “I know. It’s fine. Stop stressing about it.”
“I just want to make it up to you,” she said.
“You are right now,” I said. “I have to get back to the hideout.”
“You’re safe here. Only Carrig knows where you are. Nana said you are to stay put. Her words, not mine.”
Someone came in the room, but I couldn’t see who it was with Emily blocking my view. “Oh, I forgot you have a visitor. He’s been waiting for you to wake up.”
Arik? Great. He was going to be pissed at me. I should have just jumped into the library and grabbed the Chiave. Going after Gian’s canister without help was careless.
Emily stood and crossed the room, passing him as she went out the door. He walked over and sat on the chair Emily had just vacated.
Bastien’s smile stopped my breath. It was as if I’d been in the dark so long and the sun finally came out. His blue eyes held so much concern. Tears formed on my lashes, the sight of him overwhelming me. I wasn’t sure he was real. With great effort, I reached a hand out to him, and he grasped it, his touch speeding up my heart.
“You’re here… I thought… Carrig…” My words were as broken as my thoughts. As broken as my body.
“We had left shortly before the attack.” His head lowered, and he stared at the folded paper bag in his other hand. “If I’d known you were… Well, I’m here now.”
“There was a woman with me, Agata.” My chest tightened at the thought of her lying motionless on the library’s floor.
The expression on his face was as solemn as his voice sounded. “She’s recovering in Mantello. The curers believe she’ll make a full recovery.”
“She’s okay?” A shaky laugh escaped me, relief loosening my chest.
“She is.”
“How did you get here? You could’ve—”
“Nothing could keep me away.” Bastien let go of my hand and placed his open palm on my uninjured cheek. “I was so worried.”
“My face is going to be scarred.”
“No scar could ever hide your beauty.” His smile returned, and though he’d only smiled a minute ago, it was as though it was my first time seeing it, and my heart lifted in my chest. He pressed his lips against mine. It was a gentle, careful kiss. “You’re so hot.”
“You probably say that to all the injured girls you know.” I laughed, then winced at the pain stabbing my ribs, reminding me that Veronique had punched me there.
A worried look crossed his face. “Your fever comes and goes. I’ll have Emily give you something for it.”
“No. Please stay.” The tears I’d been holding back rushed from my eyes and down my temples. “I’m scared.”
I wiped my eyes with the tissue he’d tugged out of the box on the nightstand. He slipped off his shoes, and I moved over for him. The bed squeaked as he sat on the mattress and leaned against the pillows.
He removed a book with a green linen cover from the paper bag.
“I thought I’d read a familiar book to you,” he said. “Perhaps it’ll free you from your thoughts.”
I noticed the book before I read the gold lettering: The Secret Garden. By the cover, I could tell it was a first edition. His thoughtfulness made the corners of my mouth lift.
He grinned, and there was a tilt to his lips. “Come here.”
I scooted closer and rested my head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around me, his nearness so comforting. I’d missed him. I’d missed his eyes that watched me as if he were memorizing every one of my expressions. Most of all, I missed the tiny moments with Bastien where he’d really listen to me, no matter what silly or bizarre thing I said.
“You’ll have to help turn the pages,” Bastien said.
I flipped them over and stopped on the first chapter.
He began, “When Mary Lennox was…”
Each word he read was like a soothing lullaby. His fingers continually combed my hair, calming me. I could listen to him read for an eternity. The world fell away, and there was only us getting lost in a story we both loved.
I’d look up at him now and then, admiring how the lamp by the bed lit up his beautiful face. A piece of his dark hair fell across his forehead, and a crinkle formed between his eyebrows as he read. It was cute how he changed his voice to represent different characters.
By the end of chapter three, my head kept bobbing as I struggled to stay awake. He closed the book and placed it on the nightstand. “I think it’s time you slept,” he said.
“I don’t want you to go.”
He adjusted onto his side, facing me, and took my hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Our heads rested against each other.
“Better?” he whispered.
“Much.” I squeezed his hand with what little energy I had. “I killed them. Veronique. Those Sentinels. They’re all dead.” Tears pooled in my eyes, and my lip shook. He wiped my tears away with his thumb.
“You were defending yourself,” he reasoned, parroting the words I’d repeated to myself. But no amount of reasoning could make me forget their deaths. The attack replayed in my head like a slasher movie.
“My globe,” I said. “It’s fragile now. Like glass. When I throw it, the sphere grows and shatters against whatever or whoever it hits. It cuts people.”
“That’s curious.” His breath brushed my cheek. “It must have happened when you tossed one at the trap door to save Gian and me. When you are well, we could have one of our professors of magical sciences examine your globe.”
“That doesn’t sound very appealing,” I said. “I don’t want to be someone’s specimen.”
“We can talk about this later.” He kissed my forehead. “You should rest.”
His body so close to mine reminded me of the many cold nights we had spent trapped in the Somnium together. He felt safe. The rhythm of his breathing and the hint of his cologne eased me gently into a deep sleep. Nothing played in my mind, no nightmarish images, no replay of Veronique’s death. Nothing.
…
Light tickled my eyelashes, and the smell of autumn came in from the window. They lie to you. Seek The Red. He knows… I opened my eyes. Veronique’s voice sounded as if it came from inside the room. I sat up against the pillows.
It had been five days since the fight in the New York Public Library. Five days since I’d killed Veronique. And two days since Bastien left in the middle of the night while I slept. I almost thought he was an illusion, but Emily had assured me it wasn’t a dream.
Bastien had risked his safety to visit me, and I wished he could’ve stayed, but his haven, the wizard realm of Couve, needed him. He would’ve accessed the haven through an entry within the Senate Library of France in Paris. There’d been several attacks in that library lately, and I worried about his safety.
The door opened, and Emily came in. “Good morning. I came for your breakfast order. What do you feel like having today?”
“I’ll come down and eat.” I flung my legs over the side. My scabs and bruises were healing fast due to Nana’s magical gunk, and the puncture wound in my shoulder only ached when I raised my arm.
Emily picked up my robe and handed it to me. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She dug into the front pocket of her jeans and handed me Carrig’s watch. “I managed to get all the blood off it.”
“Thank you,” I said, putting it on, relieved to have it back.
“You talk in your sleep, you know that?”
I shot her a startled look. “What did you hear?”
“Everything. How Veronique died. What she said. That you have to find The Red.” Her almost black hair was longer than I’d remembered it. With her pronounced widow’s peak, her pasty white face still looked like a heart. One of her dark eyebrows shot up. “You don’t remember any of this, do you?”
Do I? No. I shook my head.
She sat on the bed beside me. “I think we have to go find that Red person.”
“The Red? We? Oh, hell no, you’re not going with me.” What was I saying? I wasn’t going, either. Maybe if I hid out at Nana’s house, the apocalypse would blow over without me. Besides, I had all the Chiavi.
The Chiavi. I sprang to my feet and plopped right back down, my ribs screaming at me. “Where’s my bag?”
“Right there,” she said, pointing at my messenger bag on the high-back chair in the corner.
“Not that. The velvet one.”
She grinned and crossed the area rug to the closet. “You don’t think I’d leave the Chiavi just lying around the room, do you? I hid it.” She reached inside, pushed against the wooden panel lining the back wall, and a section popped open. She dragged the velvet bag out and brought it over to me.
I undid the tie and placed the Chiavi and the ancient spell book onto the comforter, then lined them up. My fingers brushed over the crown and continued over the sword, telescope, cross, and scroll.
Emily sat on the foot of the bed, facing me. “They’re beautiful. Nana said they have individual powers.”
“Yeah, they do. I just have to figure out how to use them.” I slipped out of the bed.
“Where are you going?” Emily bounced to her feet. “Nana said you have to rest.”
“I’m fine. I just need my bag.” I shuffled over to the chair, grabbed it, and rejoined her on the bed. My trench coat was balled up on top and I took it out. I retrieved the hourglass, badge, Gian’s journal, and the leather canister and placed them on the mattress beside the other Chiavi. Before I touched the ancient spell book, I stopped, as though touching it would give me a curse.
Emily flipped through the ancient spell book. “This is in Latin. And look how old these pages are. I’m surprised they’re not crumbling in my hand.”
A strange scent, like licorice, escaped the leather case as I tugged the cap off. I tipped the cylinder over and two vials landed on the comforter. One was empty, and the other had a thick black liquid in it.
“That’s a strange smell,” Emily said.
“Yeah, I think it’s from the stuff inside that one.” I carefully removed the slip of parchment stuck inside the cylinder and unrolled it. The handwriting was familiar—the script matched the one in Gian’s journal. The paper crinkled as I flattened it on the comforter.
Emily turned another page in the spell book and studied it. “I can’t read any of this.” She waved her hand above the book and chanted, “Ad mutare anglicus.” She then ran her finger across the sentences as she skimmed the page. “That’s better.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I’m using a spell to transcribe the words to English,” she said. “So, what does the note say?”
I read it aloud.
To my heir,
On a page a bit past the halfway mark within a book bearing my name, within the house of books in the city of my birth, you shall find the entry into a mountainous, frozen land. The Four sleeps under the tallest peak, but be careful, for traps will deter your journey to finding the creature you seek.
The Chiavi, I have transformed into items, magical ones. Use them to get through the traps blocking your way. Find the etched clues to know which to use. Once through, change the Chiavi to their original forms by commanding, modificare. You will be left with seven rods. There are seven matching holes in the door holding the beast. Before inserting each rod into the door, recite, accendere, and the rods will glow. Once all rods are in the prison door, use the charm, rilascio, to open the door. Whoever opens the door will then control the beast.
The moment the door opens, the chosen one must drink the spell. Mix the blood from the heirs of the seven original wizards with the potion I have included in the canister. The mixture was concocted by Mykyl to create the beast. If mixed correctly with the blood of the heirs, the liquid will turn golden. The donors must be the closest living heir. Consuming the spell will change the chosen one to match the Four. For only the purest heir can consume them all and defeat the Tetrad. Make haste for the spell will end quickly, and the Seventh Heir will be lost.
Heir to heir, blood to blood, lies the cure.
Trust your wit. Trust the inner voice. For it was all determined before your birth.
May Saint Agnes guide you on your journey.
Gian
Mykyl. He was Athela’s father and the High Wizard of Esteril. The creator of the Tetrad. Conemar had used his recipe and Mystik creatures to create a new species, the Writhes. They were now deformed and scary creatures with sharp teeth, able to contort their bodies. I shuddered at the thought of them. Conemar had them attack me in the Mafra library, and I barely survived it.
Emily’s eyes shifted from the page in the ancient book she was staring at to the parchment. “Chosen one? Purest heir? Who’s that?”
Her questions made me wonder if I should have read that out loud. Nana’s elixir was fogging my judgment.
I glanced at her, not completely sure if telling her about Royston was a good idea. After all, Conemar once controlled Emily. But Nana trusted her, and Emily had come to my rescue after Veronique tried to kill me.
“It’s the one who will destroy the Tetrad.”
“The what?”
“It’s a monster created centuries ago as a weapon. It can control all the elements and destroy both worlds.” I decided she didn’t need to know that Royston was the chosen one. My fingers felt foreign as I carefully rolled up the parchment.
“That’s creepy.” Her attention returned to the ancient spell book. “This is so cool. There are so many spells I haven’t seen in Nana’s books.” She looked over at me. “A page was ripped out.”
“Yeah, it had a shielding spell on it.” I lowered the collar of my pajama top, revealing the crescent scar on my chest. “Nana used it to brand the spell into my skin. It prevents the Monitors from seeing me jump through the gateway books.”
Something banged against the window, startling us and causing Emily to drop the book to the floor.
Neither Emily nor I moved from our places on the bed. Another bang came from the window.
Emily started. “What is that?”
“I don’t know.” After grasping the Chiave sword, I pushed myself up from the bed. “Put everything in the bag and get in the closet.”