Chapter 15
“Jane!” A raw, primal scream tore from me. Tears blurred my vision, and my pounding heart muted the world around me.
A slight tug pulled at my wrist, then Darcy grabbed my hand. “This way.”
I let him lead, forcing my trembling legs to move while my thoughts played the sight on repeat. Charles lifting a piece of rubble to reveal Jane. Her closed eyes and the trickle of blood running down her forehead.
Please let her be alive.
I held back a sob that felt like it might tear my chest in half as Darcy opened a door that led to the garden.
Rushing across the remaining distance, I slid to a stop by Charles.
He cradled Jane’s upper body against him, tears slipping from his eyes as magic spilled from his fingers. My dark hair had melted back into Jane’s golden curls, my skin paling into her ivory.
“What happened?” I choked the words out as I dropped to my knees beside them and took Jane’s hand. My pulse thundered in my ears, a cruel contrast to the faint whisper of Jane’s.
“I don’t know.” Charles looked at me, my pain reflected in his blue eyes.
“I came outside to find her, but a gargoyle fell from the roof and—” He cut himself off and more magic streamed from him.
It wrapped around Jane’s body, especially thick around her right arm and chest. “I didn’t make it. I couldn’t get to her in time.”
Darcy’s fingers glowed, and his magic spread over the pile of rubble like a net, making the white marble glitter with blue sparkles.
“Can you heal her?” My voice cracked.
“I’m trying.” Charles’s face was tight with concentration. “But I don’t know if it will be enough.”
The wind battered us, and more storm clouds rolled overhead as we sat there, waiting to find out if my sister, my best friend, would survive. The wind ruffled her hair, tossing the long blonde strands across her face, and I reached out and tucked them behind her ear again.
Charles’s magic glowed around her, flickering spots of light that reminded me of fireflies.
Every year during the first week of summer, Jane and I would sneak away to catch fireflies.
We gathered a few in a jar, then we each made a wish and let the fireflies go.
Jane said they’d carry our wishes to heaven and help them come true—a silly tradition but one that had stuck.
Looking at her still form, I was terrified we might not have any more of those moments together.
It was fully dark by the time Charles stood on shaky legs. “Jane is safe to move now.”
“Is she okay? Why hasn’t she woken up?” I squeezed her hand.
“I’m not sure. My magic has done all it can. Now we just have to wait.” Charles’s tone was heavy.
“Should we take her to a hospital? Or I can call Doctor Jones.” I tried to stand, but my legs were numb. If only my heart were the same.
Darcy helped me to my feet, then chafed my frozen hands between his to warm them.
“They can’t do anything I haven’t already done, and I’d rather keep her here where I can monitor her.” Charles carried her inside, her cheek resting against his chest. It looked like she was sleeping.
We made it to a guest room, and I pulled down the covers. Charles put her gently on the bed before smoothing some hair from her face. He sat on the edge and took her hand.
I pulled a chair over and sat, and Darcy, unable to leave my side, did the same. “How could this have happened?” The words slipped from me.
Charles’s expression tightened. “I don’t know. Everything was fine one moment, and then there was this huge gust of wind and a horrible crack and then…”
Darcy straightened. “A strong gust of wind caused this?”
Charles nodded, and Darcy’s expression grew strained.
“You don’t think it was an accident.” My stomach swirled with nausea.
“Once might be an accident”—Darcy looked at me grimly—“twice is a pattern, especially with them both being weather related.”
“You think someone was trying to kill Jane?” Charles whispered.
Darcy shook his head, his jaw clenched again. “I think someone was trying to kill Lizzy. This incident now proves that the lightning was meant for her after all.”
His words fell on me like a stone tied around my feet, dragging me deeper and deeper into my guilt. I was the reason Jane had been hurt. While I’d been falsely accusing Steven and letting my prejudice against the fae blind me to danger, someone had tried to kill me.
“This is all my fault.” Tears slipped from my eyes, blurring my sister’s face even more.
“No, it isn’t.” Darcy put a hand on my shoulder. “You didn’t know this would happen.”
“Yes, but it’s my fault she was wearing that stupid glamour. I was the one who suggested we go in disguise, and now Jane is paying for it.”
“We will find whoever is responsible.” Darcy’s hand on my shoulder was as heavy as his tone. The words settled over me with dizzying gravity.
I never should’ve let Jane help. What did it matter if I supported her with Charles if I put her in danger to do it?
I stared at my sister’s pale face, my mistakes rushing through my head, demanding attention. I’d been too careless. Too sure of myself and my plan. Too wrong about everything. Too quick to judge.
My phone buzzed with a message in my pocket. Numbly, I reached in and pulled it out.
Where is your article?
My stomach dropped at Maxine’s text, but I didn’t have anything in me to worry about work. My article, my promotion, and maybe my job were gone, but what did that matter when Jane was in this state?
There were a few other texts from Riley and my family checking in, but I couldn’t deal with them right now. I slipped my phone back into my pocket without responding and held Jane’s pale hand as a tear slipped out.
There was nothing I could do to help Jane recover faster, but I could try to find the person who hurt her.
I stood and swallowed past the thickness in my throat. “I need to lie down.”
“Right now?” Charles looked at Jane, then back to me.
“I’m going to try to use my Portent to see if I can find anything useful,” I said. “Will you keep watch over her?”
“Of course.” Charles gave me a single nod, then focused his attention back on Jane.
Darcy put a hand on Charles’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ll talk about the interrogation later. Focus on Jane for now.”
“Thank you.” Gratitude filled Charles’s blue eyes.
“Let’s go.” I took Darcy’s hand, and we walked back to his room. This time I didn’t hesitate to climb onto his bed. Darcy threw a knit blanket over me and settled in.
The sheets smelled like cardamom, and I inhaled deeply, letting the smell relax me.
“Is there anything I can do?” Darcy took my hand.
“Not this time.” I gave him a small smile and pulled out my notebook. I’d never tried to bring on a Portent before and definitely not one about anything specific. But it was time I stopped running from my fae heritage.
I tapped into the ball of energy in my core I usually ignored. My nose itched as I connected with my fae magic.
“Drink this. It might help you sleep.” Darcy grabbed a mug from his bedside table—one of the everlasting mugs from the fair—and held it toward me. The calming scent of cinnamon and chamomile wafted to me. “One of the staff brings a mug in every night,” he said in answer to my unasked question.
“Thank you.” I took a sip, and its warmth washed over me.
Unsure what to do next, I simply held onto my magic while I skimmed my notes and sipped the tea.
I read through the clues I’d gathered the last few days from my conversations with Darcy, Sable’s phone call, Steven’s interrogation, and everything else.
Somewhere outside, an owl hooted, and I took it as a good omen. Maybe my Portent would work after all.
“I think I’m ready,” I said once I finished my notebook. I put the empty mug on the bedside table and looked at Darcy, unsure of what to say. He squeezed my hand, and I nestled against the pillow, pulling the blanket up to my chin and evening out my breathing.
My magic combined with the tea, warming me from the inside and lulling me to sleep.
When I opened my eyes, I was outside Netherfield, but the tree leaves were ebony and their trunks ivory.
My heartbeat picked up. I’d done it. I was in a Portent. My itching nose and the sterile air confirmed it.
The flutter of wings overhead made me look up. An owl, my dependable guide, soared in a small circle overhead.
“Please help me find the killer,” I asked it.
The owl hooted softly, the sound jarring in this world of silence. It took off, flying around the corner of the house.
I chased after it, hope thundering in my veins as loudly as my footsteps were silent. I rounded the corner and darted across the lawn toward two figures standing by the lake.
Caroline and Louisa.
Drops of color bloomed around them, like they were flowers coming to life after a dreary winter. Caroline’s mouth was twisted in anger, and tears filled Louisa’s eyes.
The owl glided ahead of me, circling over the sisters’ heads a few times before settling on a tree branch.
I hurried forward to hear their conversation. Did they have something to do with what happened? I couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions again, not after having been so wrong, but maybe my Portent could give me answers.
“Lizzy!” A hand on my shoulder shook me awake.
My eyes flew open, and I was surrounded by the blues, greens, and gray of Darcy’s room. His green eyes were wide as they met mine.
“What did you do that for? I think I was about to find the—”
“Jane is awake.”
I flew out of bed, pulling Darcy with me. We raced down the hall, and I barged into her room.
Jane sat up in bed, the firelight playing off her face. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and Charles was urging her to drink a mug of tea.
My sudden rush of tears blurred her face, but this time they were tears of relief. I resisted the urge to throw myself on her. “You’re okay!”
“Lizzy?” She looked around, her gaze flitting from me to Darcy, then to Charles. “What happened?”