Chapter 17
When Viri stepped back into the lab, Reeve and Sage immediately halted what looked like a tense conversation.
Jonas, on the other side of the room, jumped guiltily away from the magical terrarium, wonder splashed across his features—as well as angelrose luster, indicating he must have touched the petals and then wiped his fingers under his glasses.
Walnut, too, was glowing slightly, his brown coat dusted with pink speckles, his whiskers twitching.
“Everything all right?” Reeve asked Viri as she and Wynter approached, his tone hesitant. Wary.
Viri understood his caution, but she was back in control now—and ready to finally get some answers. She launched straight in with the first thing that came to mind. “Why were you out in the alley tonight? Why did you save those kids from your own kind?”
If Reeve was surprised by her opening questions, he didn’t let on, his features unwaveringly calm as he replied, “I promised you answers, so ask anything you want. But keep in mind, I already told you we have the same goal.”
Viri couldn’t keep the doubt from her voice. “To stop the Aurora sacrifice.”
Wynter held up a hand. “I’m sorry, the what-now?”
Reeve ignored her to tell Viri, “We”—he indicated himself, Jonas, and Sage—“have been working for months to foil as many transfers as possible, ever since we first heard whispers about the children being taken, and why. Ardin has a vast network of connections within the reaper world, so whenever he learns about kids being shuffled around or relocated, he finds out the route they’ll be taking, and we intervene.
Usually it’s only one or two at a time—not enough for your Nox friends to investigate, since the kids we help are returned safely without ever knowing the real reason they were taken in the first place.
They rarely even realize it was reapers who took them—or reapers who saved them. ”
Viri thought of all the red threes she’d visited who had already found their way home and wondered how many of them had Reeve and his friends to thank for it.
“But tonight was different,” Reeve went on, his tone lowering with concern. “I’ve never seen a group as big as that.”
“You know what that means,” Sage said, her face grim. “If they’re taking that kind of risk, with that many reapers as a guard…and those kids were considered ‘spares’…then there can only be one reason.”
Jonas paled. “The comet must be nearly here.”
“What comet?” Wynter frowned. “And what’s this about kids?”
“So tonight,” Viri said, her focus solely on Reeve, “when you knocked me out with magic—and you’d better believe we’ll be talking about that later—it was so you could go and save the children? All to keep them from being included in the Aurora sacrifice?”
“More to slow things down,” Reeve said. “The timing of the comet isn’t something we can control, but the kids…with fifty of them needed, every one we saved meant another had to be abducted in their place.” His shoulders rose and fell. “We did what we could with the limited information we had.”
Viri could hardly believe what she was hearing, but there was one thought screaming across her mind. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Reeve looked steadily at her. “Would you have believed me?”
“I—”
“Don’t lie.”
Viri rocked back on her heels, annoyed that he was right. She never would have believed that a reaper would protect children rather than siphon from them—not if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes.
Frustrated at Reeve, at herself, at the fact that they’d saved eight kids but lost four—something that might not have happened if she’d known what was going on—Viri couldn’t help saying, her tone bitter, “Sage blamed me earlier, but most of this is your fault. I don’t think I’ve ever hated you more than I do right now. ”
“No,” Reeve said, still unmovably calm. “You hate who you think I am. There’s a difference.”
Before Viri could respond, or even fully process what he’d said, Wynter shouted, “EXCUSE ME!” All eyes turned to her as she demanded, “Can someone explain what the hell you’re all talking about? What sacrifice?”
With an apologetic grimace, Viri brought her friend up to speed. She kept the details brief, finishing with how they didn’t know when or where the Aurora sacrifice was taking place, nor what Braedan intended to do with the comet’s power if he succeeded.
Wynter’s face was a sickly green color by the time Viri was done, but she wasn’t the only one exhibiting strong emotion.
Sage looked like she wanted to take a swing at Viri for what she’d said about Braedan’s deadly intentions, and Jonas had pulled Walnut out of his pocket to cuddle the bunny against his chest for comfort.
Reeve alone was composed, staring up through the glass dome again, the water a shade lighter as dawn approached.
“Aurora…Aurora…” Wynter repeated the name, her eyes glazed in thought. “Why does that sound so…?” She blinked, gasped, and rushed across to her bookcase, pulling down another thick tome, this one covered with shooting stars and lustrous planets.
“The Aurora Comet—I’m sure I’ve read about it before,” Wynter said, flicking frantically through the pages as she moved to sit on the couch, then making a triumphant sound. “Got it!”
She lowered the book onto her lap and tapped a finger on the opened page, prompting everyone to crowd around her, with Viri sitting at her side and Reeve, Sage, and Jonas standing shoulder to shoulder and leaning in for a closer look.
The text was written in indecipherable runes and had a shimmering gold illustration in the corner: two radiant beings sharing a passionate embrace.
“The comet is part of the Adastrum Devotis—the star-crossed lovers,” Wynter said, translating the runes for them.
“Part of?” Reeve repeated, examining the drawing.
“Aurora is one of a pair—the first of two comets that appear once every two hundred years,” Wynter said, skimming the page.
“The story goes that she and her lover, Orion, were two mages of such incredible power that, whenever they touched, the world trembled on its foundations. The destruction they caused was a danger to all living creatures, so the Elder mages banished them to the heavens, ensuring they would be separated for all time, with Orion forever straining for his lover but never able to reach her.” Wynter ran her hands over the embracing couple.
“The Aurora Comet and the Orion Comet—where one goes, the other follows, for all eternity.”
“That’s a very depressing story,” Jonas said, cuddling Walnut closer. “Why do so few legends have happy endings?”
“Depressing or not,” Wynter said, still reading the runes, her brow scrunched in concentration, “I have good news, bad news, more bad news, and then some very good news.”
“I can guess some of the bad news,” Reeve said, his body lined with tension, as it had been ever since Wynter had begun sharing the star-crossed tale. “A second comet means there’s a second opportunity for a sacrifice, even if we manage to stop the first.”
Viri froze, realizing he was right.
“Yes,” Wynter confirmed. “But the good news about that is, according to this”—she pointed to the ancient writing—“the Orion Comet requires a different kind of sacrifice than Aurora. There aren’t many details here—I’ll have to do more research—but there’s a reference to something called ellixen abyssus, which, roughly translated, means ‘void magic.’ I’m not sure what that is, just that it’s apparently very rare.
So even though both comets require the same baseline things—purity of heart, magical strength, and bloodletting—this addition for Orion is good for us, because whatever it is, it’s unlikely to be found in one child, let alone many. ”
“So Aurora is still the main threat,” Viri surmised, with no small amount of relief.
“I’d go as far as to say she’s the only threat you need to worry about at this point,” Wynter said.
“Which leads me to the other good news and bad news—the bad being that I don’t know how much time will pass between Aurora’s arrival and Orion’s.
It could be days, it could be weeks. I’ll look into it, but for now, at least we know the second comet isn’t the main concern, not if it needs this unique ellixen abyssus magic. ”
Viri’s relief grew at her friend’s confidence. They still had one sacrifice to stop, but one was much better than two.
“If that’s the bad news, then what’s the good?” Sage asked.
A victorious light touched Wynter’s eyes as she pointed to a set of runes at the bottom of the page. “I might not know about Orion, but I can tell you when Aurora will be appearing.”
Viri’s heart skipped a beat. “How long do we have?”
The light left Wynter’s eyes as quickly as it had come. “According to this, Aurora will pass over Elverdine Isle this Sunday night.” She traced the runes. “That means you have until then to find the Reaper Priest and stop the sacrifice.”
Horror slammed into Viri. “That’s three days from now.”
Reeve cursed and pinched the bridge of his nose, but then his expression steeled with determination as his eyes locked with Viri’s. “We need to get to Brae. I know where he is, but you’re the only one who can find him.”
Viri’s brow furrowed at the convoluted words. “What do you mean?”
“It’s why I sought you out in the first place,” Reeve went on. “I can’t get to him without you.”
“Hang on.” Viri raised her palm in a stop motion. “I was the one who came to you—in prison, remember?”
He held her gaze. “Didn’t you ever wonder why I let myself get arrested?”
An incredulous laugh left her. “You were caught. There’s a difference.”
“Was I, though?”
Viri stilled at the look on his face—part proud, part calculating, all confident. A knot formed in her stomach as she belatedly recalled that no one had come forward to take credit for his capture.
“It’s like he just…appeared here,” Soren had said.
But if what Reeve was saying was true, then that meant…
“What are you playing at?” Viri demanded.
“I needed your attention,” Reeve said without a hint of shame. “So I found a way to get it.” He looked ruefully around the lab. “Granted, I didn’t expect it to take a whole week, but here we are.”
Viri wasn’t sure what she felt more acutely: disbelief or anger. “There were a million ways you could have reached me that didn’t involve a prison. Or a prison break.” She thought of what they’d done to Soren—and Darik—and scowled fiercely. “You made me an accomplice for no reason.”
“You’d be surprised how few options I had,” he replied, an odd, bitter tinge to his voice. “This was the only way to do what needs to be done without watching eyes.”
“Whose eyes? What needs to be done?” Viri’s scowl deepened. “What the hell is going on, Reeve?”
He looked at Jonas and Sage, just a brief glance, as if to bolster himself, then said, “I need to tell you something—it’s the reason I wasted a week in a cell just to get to you, so when I say it’s important, I mean it.”
Viri braced, sharing her own look with Wynter, who was watching with rampant curiosity.
“I know how you feel about me—you’ve made yourself perfectly clear,” Reeve continued, that odd bitterness returning to his voice again before it vanished once more. “I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m not even asking you to believe me. I’m just asking you to listen. Can you do that?”
Whether it was the way he was looking at her—earnest and pleading—or the desperation in his words, Viri couldn’t deny his request. But before she could tell him as much, a click sounded as the door to the lab opened and Soren burst through, looking more panicked than Viri had ever seen him.
“Thank the Elders you’re here,” he panted, running over to where they were clustered around the couch.
Viri and Wynter leapt up at his wild-eyed entrance, but he barely glanced at them, moving straight to where Reeve stood beside Sage and Jonas.
For a brief moment, Viri wondered if Soren was going to pay Reeve back for knocking him out earlier, but he didn’t attack. Instead, he said the last four words she ever expected to hear from her rule-abiding best friend.
“I need your help,” Soren rasped to Reeve.
Reeve’s eyebrows shot upward—as did everyone else’s.
“What’s wrong, Sor?” Wynter reached for his arm. “What’s happened?”
“It’s Jessalyn.” Soren’s voice shook so hard that goosebumps rose on Viri’s skin.
“What about her?” Wynter asked. “Is she hurt? Sick?”
Realization slammed into Viri the second before Soren answered, along with a wave of dread, stronger than anything she’d felt that night.
“Worse,” Soren croaked out. “She’s missing.”