Chapter 27
Grace
Istartle awake to the sound of a door closing. I stretch my arms over my head as I open my eyes to see Milly standing a few feet in front of me.
“Shadow,” she says affectionately.
I grin up at her; just my nickname passing her lips is enough to light my blood on fire.
She steps to the side, and behind her is Professor Blackthorne.
My grin instantly turns into a grimace as I shoot up from my position on the floor.
Bright spots cloud my vision from the sudden movement.
I blink them away as I look between the two of them.
“Absolutely not,” I retort, trying to stand up slowly. “This man did not even want to help me out of the woods. He wanted me away from here, and on top of that, told me that he would not save me again. How do I trust he wants to help again? What's in it for him?” I cross my arms in a glare.
Professor Blackthorne and I both lock eyes in a glare as Milly tries to play peacemaker.
She feigns shock as she lifts her hand to cover her mouth and promptly turns to Professor Blackthorne. “My sincerest apologies, Archer. She is simply not accustomed to your…firmer disposition is all.”
His jaw is clenched as he nods at Milly, but refuses to remove his glare from mine. I stick my chin up a little higher, squeezing my eyes tighter, making my facial expression one full of distaste.
“No, don’t apologize. He knew how he treated me,” I snap out.
He sneers, “I simply warned you, Miss Gates. I have witnessed a few times where you have not been cautious. I even saved you again these last few weeks. You don’t need to waste your time doubting me.
As for a reason? Revenge.” He grins menacingly.
I sputter, opening and closing my mouth, trying to find a response when he lifts his hand to halt my words.
“You do not need to defend your choices.
You made them knowingly. But there are hundreds of students on this campus, hundreds of citizens in this community, at risk in Priest Brown's hands. I do not want to see you sacrificed, which is why I am here…even if you are slightly…oblivious.” I huff and turn back toward the couch and sit down.
“Grace, I assure you that Archer is present purely out of compassion. His intention is to be of aid to us. He has spent many years helping prevent the evil hand of Priest Brown, as I have shared.” She lifts one of her brows, waiting for me to acknowledge what she is saying.
I bring my hand up for hers. She places it in mine as I softly stroke her hand.
I glance over her shoulder and see him still holding a slight glare. I sigh. “I’m sorry, Professor Blackthorne,” I bite out. Milly squeezes my hand tighter, and I squeal softly.
Milly smiles at my half-assed apology. “Thank you, Shadow. Now let’s—”
I interrupt her, “Even if you exude assholery.” I smile sarcastically at him.
Milly throws her arms up in exasperation, and I see Professor Blackthorne slightly lift the corner of his lip in a smile.
It’s at this moment that I find myself maybe not hating my professor as much as I did a few minutes ago, in a silent agreement. Going forward, I think we have found a common ground in ruffling Milly’s feathers.
He nods his head at me, and I nod back, simultaneously ignoring Milly explaining the importance of teamwork.
“Is this the mirror?” he asks as he approaches it slowly. The ornate golden design on the edges shimmers softly, creating a constant aura around it. Or maybe it is the mysterious glass at its center.
“It doesn’t have a reflection…” I watch him observe, almost nervous to touch it himself.
I hum in agreement, letting him come to his conclusions as Milly returns to sit next to me. She grabs my hand and puts it in her lap, fidgeting with the rings on my fingers. She’s nervous, but her face radiates confidence and poise.
“Where did you find this?” he asks, looking at the two of us with shock on his face.
“Milly found it, actually. It was kind of weird, too.”
She nods. “I believe it was placed so as to be forgotten. Not until Grace spoke of mirrors as portals did I recall that odd one. It had been turned to face the wall—so easily overlooked. I am quite astonished I managed to leave with it. A part of me felt peculiarly compelled to let it remain where it lay. Even now, I cannot shake the sense that something is amiss about it.”
Her eyes glaze over as she stares at the mirror. I lift my hand, waving it in front of her eyes. She snaps out of it and blushes at her slight dissociation.
Professor Blackthorne nods as he circles the table, observing the mirror from every angle. “I don’t know what this mirror is, to be quite honest. It radiates something that encourages you to look away, almost a heavy discomfort. Perhaps it's been spelled to deter its viewer.”
We nod along to his words as he continues. “There are some rituals you can do with this mirror, I think, but it would have risks. We won’t know for certain what the cost would be to use it, but I hate to admit… It’s probably the best chance we have.”
He takes two steps forward and stares at both of us. “Milly, do you still have your grimoire?”
I immediately turn my head to Milly, suddenly eager to see the one she’s spent nearly a hundred years making.
“I do.” She vanishes and reappears in front of the bookshelf across the room. Her fingers trail over the spines as she searches, humming softly. “It’s right…about…here!” Her body glows with excitement as she touches the book.
The grimoire is beautiful. The cover is worn black leather, with creases all over from years of use. A large purple stone lies perfectly in the center of the cover, glowing slightly. The edge pages are a shimmering silver, catching the small parts of light casting within the room.
She walks toward us, opening the book. The pages are an off-white, thicker material.
They’re weathered from use, adding to their aged appearance.
I watch as she flips through the used pages that hold handwritten spells, rituals, and information with ink and a pen.
Her penmanship is just as elegant as the notes she has left me.
She sits down on the couch between Professor Blackthorne and me. She continues flipping through the pages until she stops at one with the words Entrapment Incantation.
“Ah, yes. Here it is. I believe this shall do.” She lifts it slightly with her hands and points to the section titled ‘ingredients’. “We possess the most crucial item already—a mirror, worn and weathered by grief.”
I lift my brow at that, and she stares back with confidence. “No mirrors on this campus can unsee the horrors these halls have witnessed. Their glass holds memory, just as we do.”
She points to the following item, a sketch of black candles. “Six black candles will be needed, placed at every point of the pentagram. This demon shall be banished, cast back to his dominion in Hell.”
“But what will happen to Priest Brown? Is he going to be banished to Hell as well?” I ask with determination.
I refuse to think that this terror of a man will receive a second chance on this earth.
She shrugs. “I confess, I am unsure what shall become of his body once the demon departs. The writings I have studied become vague at that point. I can only assume he will crumble to dust, his body surely unable to bear the burden of the countless years.”
I can’t hold back the grin that flashes across my face, and I glance over to my professor, who too has a slight smile on his face. Another thing we can agree upon.
“So, what do we do? We just place the mirror in the middle of the pentagram?” I ask.
“In theory, yes. But we need Priest Brown to be in line with the mirror.” He points at the grimoire. “The mirror is a portal. If he were not to be in line with it, there is a risk of the next closest person being dragged within,” Professor Blackthorne adds in.
We both wait for Milly as she continues to read along. “He is quite right. He must stand above the pentagram and in line with the mirror itself. Only then will the rite hold.”
“But how will we get him above it? Surely he’d feel the wrongness of this mirror? How do we hide it? This feels too easy. He’s going to see this coming, especially if we try to put him in such a specific spot in the room,” I question with anxiety.
“It’ll be easy to place the mirror in the room, especially with its enchantment. Milly, can you implement one over it yourself? It wouldn’t be unusual for a new prop to be within the room during a ceremony. Priest Brown loves his garb,” Blackthorne grumbles the last few words.
“I can surely try. How long it will hold is beyond my knowledge, though even a small effort must be worth something.” Milly worries her brows, becoming lost in thought.
Blackthorne continues. “I would be surprised if anyone spoke up at all. Even I would make assumptions that Priest Brown set it up himself. That is, even if they happen to question it. As for him? I’m banking on the fact that he’s not as aware of his surroundings as he acts.
He’s reliant on his deacon to prepare the ritual.
He’s growing weaker without the sacrifice and becoming more irritable.
I think he’ll just be happy to see Grace in the room. ”
My heart starts to race at the endless opportunities for this to go wrong, my leg now bouncing up and down.
“Shadow, breathe. That is why we have gathered here, to see this through.” I chew on my nail but nod. I have no other option but to trust them. She places a hand on my shaking leg until it stills, then presses a soft kiss on my forehead before returning to her grimoire.
“There are specific words that must be spoken once he is positioned precisely.” She floats a pen over to her hands as she starts to write within the worn pages. Occasionally huffing, scratching words out, and tapping the pen on her chin, she finally squeals and turns to us both.
“I have it!”
She inhales, and her voice takes on an eerie tone.
Mirror bright, I call your might,