Chapter 33 #2
The knife that could kill anything, even those caught in limbo between life and death, had served its purpose well.
Without life to feed the magic, the bargain was broken.
The grimoire trembled and flew open on the ground, levitating into the air. It rotated slowly to reveal the page it was on—The Gift of Power. Written in blood at the bottom, the Hawthorne name turned to black sludge and slid off the page, dripping to the floor.
Like a drain sucking down dirty water, shadows started to swirl around the grimoire, pulled from every corner of the room. Faster and faster, a howling cyclone of darkness streamed into the pages.
Felicity cried out and fell to her knees, arms splayed wide, head bent back.
For a moment, the magic that infected her was visible, covering her whole body in a hard, slick shell.
It tore free of her skin and crawled forth from her open mouth as she choked.
Black goo splattered across stone with each hacking cough before being pulled to join the whirlwind.
Gabriel clutched Bram, hiding his face against his shirt.
The shadowy smog around them flickered; for the first time, Miles could see the strands wrapped around the brothers, tethering the nebulous darkness to them.
They were thin, hardly thicker than string, their grip easily broken.
The slightest tug from the wind and they snapped free, the dark cloud swept away into the current.
The grimoire hungrily took the shadows it had born, until every last scrap was called back and the book dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.
The tomb fell silent.
Scalding pain blazed through Miles, making him gasp. The stake had vanished.
“Shit.” Charlee pressed her hands to his wound, trying to staunch the new gush of blood, making him cry out. He should’ve known he wasn’t lucky enough to get out of this suffering-free. “Oh my God, help!”
Gabriel came running as Emily ripped off her jacket, wadding it up against his wound. Waves of spine-rattling agony radiated through Miles’s body.
“Keep pressure on it,” she commanded Gabriel. “I’m taking Bram up, we’ll get help.”
“Hurry,” Charlee begged her.
As soon as they vanished from sight, Miles swiped weakly at Gabriel’s arm. “Just let it go,” he ground out. For some reason, his teeth were chattering. “You know it’s too late.”
“Shut up,” Gabriel and Charlee snapped at the same time.
Miles grabbed Gabriel’s hand. “I’m not getting out of here. Don’t be stupid. Just go.”
Gabriel was furious, eyes spitting sparks and jaw clenched tight. He snatched his hand away, putting it back on Emily’s bloody coat. “You were the stupid one first,” he hissed. “I should leave you behind just for that.”
A mangled laugh managed to claw its way out of Miles, tasting of copper.
The room gave an ominous shudder. Miles thought it was his shivers, until Charlee and Gabriel both froze.
“We need to get him out of here now,” Charlee told Gabriel. “We can carry him together.”
They tried to lift him, but Miles was heavy and moving hurt so badly that he yelled. Another shake rumbled through the room, stronger this time. Dust rained from the ceiling. The pillar beside them groaned.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Miles croaked. If this place was coming down, they needed to leave. “Please. Go.”
Charlee whimpered. She knew they were out of options.
Gabriel barely spared her a glance. “Go if you want, but I’m not leaving.” He brushed hair out of Miles’s face with gentle fingers, painfully sweet, even now. “I’m with you as far as this goes.”
Damn him.
Miles willed his blood to pump a little faster. Bleeding out was better than being crushed to death, but his body needed to get it over with already so Gabriel had time to escape. He supposed he could always play dead.
Two hazy shapes flickered in the air—Rosalie and Jocelyn, holding hands. Ready to finally pass on together.
Gabriel bared his teeth at Jocelyn. “You knew this was going to happen.”
“I did,” she confirmed. “As did he. The choice was always his to make alone.”
“That’s not fair, you knew he—”
“You don’t have time to waste if you want to leave here alive,” Rosalie interrupted.
On cue, the tomb rumbled, the Hawthorne crest on the wall splitting down the middle.
There was a distant sound, like ice cracking.
Rosalie turned to Miles, gliding closer.
“Jocelyn told me that she gave you a final gift. I have one as well: the last of my energy to repay the sacrifice you made here.”
Things were getting dim and hard to follow, so Miles just tried to smile as Rosalie leaned down and placed her hand on his chest. Her sunshine-warm presence sank into his skin and spread through his veins with a gentle heat.
It washed away the lingering chill of the stake, the throbbing agony.
Ghost painkillers were on another level.
“Until we meet again,” Rosalie breathed. Her face looked younger now, radiant with happiness. She brushed a gentle kiss over his forehead and faded away, taking Jocelyn with her.
“That was nice of her,” Miles said, “but can we get back to you two leaving?”
A strange expression flashed over Gabriel’s face. He peeled the bloody jacket back. Where there’d been a gaping hole a moment ago, Miles’s skin was smooth and unblemished.
“Holy shit!” He shot up, poking his abdomen. It wasn’t an illusion—he really was back in one piece. There wasn’t even any lingering pain. Rosalie had completely healed him.
Charlee collapsed against him, shuddering and sobbing. He held her, his gaze locked with Gabriel’s. He couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Let’s do this later.” A crumbling tomb wasn’t the best place to have a meaningful conversation. Was it weird that he felt kind of embarrassed about the whole heroic sacrifice thing? Something to unpack later, he supposed.
Columns were starting to break, spiderwebs of cracks racing up the dusty stone. Small chunks splintered from the ceiling, shattering against the floor as they raced through. Halfway across the room, the open doorway beckoning them towards salvation, Charlee skidded to a halt.
Robin was sitting, staring at the wall. She’d taken off her necklace, the chain twisted around her fingers as tears streaked down her waxy skin.
A pang of guilt went through Miles—it was his fault she’d been exposed to the grimoire, his fault for not realizing the hole of grief in her chest would be an easy entrance for its magic to slither through.
He went over and put his hand on her shoulder. “Aunt Robin?” From the horror and grief on her face, the magic polluting her had returned to the grimoire with the rest.
“I don’t know what happened,” she whispered, not looking at him. “It was all so… clear in my head. This whole plan that was going to fix everything.”
“I know.” He understood now what Jocelyn had meant about the tragedy of Florence, how desperation and the grimoire’s influence had blotted out her goodness. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”
She curled in on herself tighter. “I think I’ll stay here, where I can’t hurt anyone else.”
Charlee marched over and hauled her mom up by her arm. “Don’t you dare pull this shit on me,” she growled. “You’re not allowed to lie down and die after what you just did. You owe me.”
Staring at her enraged daughter, Robin’s face crumpled. “I wanted to bring him back for you. I thought, with your father here, he could fix it all.”
Charlee’s lip trembled. “We didn’t break apart because Dad was gone. You did that. I needed you and you couldn’t get past your own shit long enough to try.” She barked out a wet laugh. “I would’ve given you any chance, if you’d just bothered to show up.”
“I wanted to. I hated myself for every day that I couldn’t bring myself to. And eventually, I knew you didn’t need me.”
“Don’t you dare. My dad was gone—I always needed you.”
Robin was weeping. “I’m sorry.”
“Prove it.” Charlee got in her face, pinning her with a steely glare. “Put me first, for once in your damn life. I’m telling you exactly what I need—for you to get out of here and make it all up to me, no matter how long it takes.”
A beat of silence passed. Slowly, Robin nodded.
The ground shook threateningly, one of the pillars toppling over with an echoing boom, and Miles thought for a split second that this was it, their time was up. He grabbed Gabriel for support, struggling to keep on his feet as the room quaked.
Everything went still.
“Is it over?” Charlee whispered.
Movement caught Miles’s eye. Narrow streams of water were racing down the walls, pooling on the stone floor.
Oh shit. He’d forgotten about the lake sitting over their head.
“Hurry,” he commanded. Charlee went ashen as she spotted the water.
Rocks clattered behind Miles, and he whirled to see Gabriel going back the way they’d come.
“Wait!” Miles caught him by the elbow. “I don’t think she made it.”
The way the magic had torn through Felicity… how could anyone survive that?
“She has to be alive. I deserve answers.”
“You do.” He deserved more than that. Much more. But the universe rarely cared about such things. “But is it worth risking your life?”
The lake could come crashing down on their heads any second. Nothing would be able to save them then.
Gabriel’s expression hardened. “It’s not only me— Edmund and Bram deserve a chance to look her in the face and ask her why. She owes us that much.”
Then they needed to be quick.
The altar had been crushed beneath a falling pillar, chunks of stone scattered about and the candles lost. Miles hadn’t even realized the room had grown so dark without them.
They found Felicity there, muttering frantically to herself and digging through the rubble. “—start over. I can get it back. I just need to find it. It’s here somewhere, it has to be. I can start over. I can get it back.”
She was in bad shape—the magic purging from her body had nearly destroyed her.
Her skin was raw and red, blood oozing from her ears and nose, streaked down the front of her dress.
The way she was moving was wrong, jerking and stuttering like her limbs didn’t want to cooperate.
A broken toy burning off the last of its battery.
It had to hurt, but it didn’t look like she’d even noticed.
“Mother.” Gabriel approached cautiously, reaching for her. The water was lapping at their shoes now, carrying crimson petals. Miles kept one eye on the ceiling, praying it would hold just a little longer.
She twisted away without so much as a glance. “It’s here somewhere, I know it is. It has to be. Once I find it, I can start over.” Her gaze darted around, searching wildly.
“Mother, it’s me.” Once again, she recoiled from Gabriel’s touch, mumbling the same words over and over. “We need to leave. The ceiling is going to cave in any moment.”
“I have to find it, I have to get it back. Where is it?”
Gabriel had never looked more helpless. He was so small, his shoulders narrow beneath his bloodstained shirt, hands trembling at his sides.
He wouldn’t look at Miles. They both knew, but neither of them wanted to say it.
Felicity Hawthorne was gone.
Miles suspected she’d died a long time ago, snuffed out by the grimoire’s magic when she’d signed her soul away all those years before. All that was left of her was his parents’ memories of a curious, clever girl who’d tried to escape her fate and failed.
The person standing in front of them was a shell, desperately clinging to the only thing she’d known for a long time.
“It has to be here.” Felicity reached between two stones, coming out with empty hands and a guttural moan. “Where is it? I need it.”
The ceiling groaned a low warning. Water hissed as it sprayed from stone. Miles’s socks were wet, and there was a terrible pit in his gut.
“Gabriel—”
“I know.”
He tried again. The moment he took Felicity’s wrist, she yanked free and slapped him across the face. It wasn’t a solid blow, catching the edge of his jaw, but it sent him stumbling back. Miles managed to catch him.
Felicity’s expression didn’t change, empty gaze going right back to what was left of the altar. The water was rising, so she dropped to her knees, sweeping her arms through it. “I have to find it.”
Gabriel shuddered against him. “Do you want me to try? I can carry her out—”
“No. She’ll only hurt you.” He touched the red mark spreading up his cheek. “There’s nothing we can do.”
It might’ve been Miles’s imagination, but the cracks in the ceiling looked like they were starting to sag like they’d buckle any second. They needed to leave. Now.
Miles took Gabriel’s hand in his, weaving their fingers together. He wanted to give him time, but they didn’t have it. If he had to, he’d carry Gabriel out over his shoulder.
Gabriel squeezed, tight enough to ache, and gave his mother one final look. His face crumpled with grief. “Let’s go. Before I can’t.”
They barely made it, tripping over debris hidden in the calf-high water and dodging pieces raining from above. Charlee waved frantically from the open doorway, yells lost to the roar of the spray and crumbling rock as it strained to hold back the weight of the lake.
Miles shoved Gabriel through, then hauled himself into the tunnel. There was no sign of Bram or Emily—he hoped they’d gotten out of here, to high ground where they’d be safe.
If the ceiling came down, the tunnels would fill with water in seconds. They’d drown.
“We need to close the door,” he panted. He grabbed the slick edge, straining to shove it closed, but it wouldn’t budge.
Gabriel shouldered him aside, hand hovering above the stone. He hesitated, scanning the room. There was no sign of Felicity.
He squeezed his eyes closed, tears gleaming on his lashes like morning dew, and slapped his palm down. The star above the tree flared scarlet, the door sliding closed with a laborious grinding noise.
The last glimpse Miles got of the tomb was the ceiling finally buckling and the monstrous waterfall that came crashing down.