Chapter 24 #2
He finally turned to face them. His normally sharp blue eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, his expression carved from grief.
“If you hadn’t noticed,” he said, voice rising, “my daughter just died. The girl I swore to a dying man to protect.” He shook his head slowly, eyes shining with anger and sorrow. “You’ll have to come back later.”
Bridget stepped forward. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
Stellan’s gaze snapped to her. “Important?” he echoed, the word sharp with disbelief. “Is that what this is? Some mission that suddenly outweighs the fact that Marin is gone?”
Cade flinched, but Bridget didn’t. Even though she wanted to.
Her chest ached just looking at him. “She died saving Nylah,” Bridget said quietly.
“And I will never forget that. I will never stop being grateful. But Marin didn’t give her life so you could disappear again.
She asked us to find the crown. Like she said, Vega won’t stop.
We should try before she sends someone else. ”
Stellan looked away, hands balled at his sides. “No.”
The word hit like a door slamming shut.
Cade reached for Bridget’s arm, a silent plea to stay back, but she shook him off and stepped forward, her voice rising. “This is what she wanted.”
“How would you know anything about what Marin wanted?” Stellan snapped.
“I spoke to her yesterday,” Bridget said.
She hated that her voice began to shake.
“She told me about her visions... About how she had mastered decoding them and was using them to work toward a future where we win.” She hesitated, but the words pressed on her chest like a weight that needed to be set down. “A future where you would be happy.”
Stellan's breath caught, but he said nothing.
Cade finally stepped forward, quiet but steady. “You think she didn’t know what helping us would cost? She saw the end. And she still chose this path.”
Bridget’s throat tightened. The echo of her words on the roof melted her chest.
He paused, letting the silence settle before adding, “Don’t make her sacrifice meaningless. We need you… not just to find the crown, but because she believed you were the one who could figure out how. She wouldn’t have requested it if she didn’t think you had an idea of where to find it.”
After a long, heavy moment, Stellan rose to his feet.
Bridget watched the war behind his eyes as the weight of history pressed down on him.
And for a flicker of a second, she could’ve sworn he was seeing them not as strangers shaped by distance and pain, but as the Bridget and Cade he used to know. The ones who hadn’t yet lost him.
“You don’t understand what you’re asking,” Stellan said quietly, reaching for a weathered, leather-bound book on the table next to where he’d been sitting.
Cade stiffened. “That’s the grimoire with all the blood spells,” he said, his voice flat, guarded.
The one he’d used to possess Archer through the gate. Bridget’s eyes flicked to the fireplace, where the embers had long since died, then to the now empty space on the table where the book must have been. A chill slid down her spine. Had he been planning to burn it before they arrived?
And then she realized why.
“The blood spell,” Bridget whispered. “It’s the only way to access my memories… isn’t it?”
Cade’s head snapped toward her, eyes wide with alarm. A dull ache pulsed along her side, right where the old scars still lingered. The truth settled like ice in her chest. The location of the crown was what Quinn had been searching for inside her, all those months ago.
Stellan’s eyes remained on Cade. “It’s the only way.”
The muscles in Cade’s throat tightened. “You don’t understand,” he said, voice rough. “There was so much blood. I thought she had died when I finally found where they’d been keeping her. It’s too dangerous.”
A knife sliced through Bridget’s chest, but Stellan stayed calm.
“That was before the curse broke,” he said. “The memory was buried then under magic so strong, no one could touch it. Now? It should be closer to the surface. Easier to reach.”
Bridget stepped forward, her voice steady despite the weight behind the question. “And the price?”
Stellan’s lips curled into a faint smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, it’s a good thing we’ve got a Druid on our side.”
“I can’t do this.”
Cassia paced in front of her bed. She’d repeated the same words for the last five minutes, despite the pleas and reasonings of the others in the room.
Even Castor’s calm voice and reassurance that he wouldn’t let her push herself too far couldn’t calm her down.
Bridget leaned heavily against one of the carved bedposts, her head pounding.
Cassia’s relentless movement was starting to make her dizzy.
“Yes, you can,” Stellan said, though fatigue edged his voice. “I’ll walk you through it step by step. You’ll draw from the Bloodstone. That way, you won’t accidentally take too much for one of us.”
“Besides,” Bridget muttered, “you’re not the one getting poked and prodded.”
She shot Cade a look, tired and pleading, silently urging him to say something that might break through. If anyone could get through to Cassia, it was him.
“You’re the only one who can do this, Cass,” Cade said, squaring his shoulders to meet his sister’s panicked gaze. The silence between them crackled with unspoken meaning, a twin language Bridget had learned not to interrupt.
“And this can’t wait until morning?” Cassia asked aloud.
“We don’t know that Quinn was the only one out there creating Wraiths or working for Vega,” Cade said.
“Based on the attacks on the Kastronian border, there has to be more than just one of those creatures out there. We should get ahead while we can. Marin didn’t die for us to just sit around and wait for something else to happen.
And since Bridget and I are leaving for Andarre in a few days… It's now or never.”
Stellan’s throat bobbed at his words, his expression tight with restrained grief. Cassia still looked unconvinced, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like armor.
Castor stepped forward. “I know what you’re worried about, but what you did to the Wraith doesn’t make you evil or like Vega. Your powers are unique and it doesn’t make you dangerous… It makes you powerful. That isn’t a bad thing. It’s time to embrace it.”
The gentle conviction in his voice softened something in Cassia’s posture. Her arms loosened at her sides. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t pace anymore either.
Bridget glanced sideways at Delphine. Her friend stood still as stone, but her lips trembled ever so slightly. Bridget reached over and gently squeezed her forearm in silent support.
“Cass… please. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t trust you.”
Cade’s pleading tone finally seemed to crack something open. Cassia drew in a long breath, rolled her shoulders, and closed her eyes like she was bracing for a storm.
“Okay,” she said, exhaling. “Fine. But don’t blame me if this doesn’t work or if I accidentally dig up some intimate memory none of us will be able to unsee. Especially the kind that’ll make it really awkward to look you in the eye every day.”
Her tone was dry, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her false bravado.
Bridget prompted Stellan to open the grimoire. “Let’s get this over with before I change my mind.”
Wordlessly, Stellan set the leather-bound book on the edge of Cassia’s bed.
The moment it touched the blanket, the cover snapped open with a sharp crack.
Pages flipped wildly on their own, stirred by a wind that hadn’t come from anywhere.
Then, suddenly, they stilled. A single page shimmered with inky black script, glowing faintly in the firelight.
The air shifted, thickening with something ancient and electric.
A heavy weight settled in Bridget’s stomach like a stone.
Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.
Delphine frowned, eyes narrowing. “Is it supposed to do that?”
Before Stellan could respond, the bedroom door creaked open. Bridget’s heart jumped as Finn slipped through the narrow gap.
“Whoa,” he said, pausing mid-step. His gaze landed on the grimoire. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to try to find the crown in Bridget’s memories,” Cade explained, his jaw tight. His gaze moved to the empty space behind him. “Why aren’t you with Nylah and Archer?”
Finn shrugged as he stepped further into the room, eyes still flicking warily between the grimoire and the increasingly tense group. “She thought Bridget had been gone too long. I told her I’d come check.”
Bridget sighed. “Way to make me feel guilty before I go under.”
She hadn’t even thought to go check on her before rounding up everyone they could find to get this spell done as soon as possible. But in a way, she was doing this for her. Quinn had been just the beginning. If Vega had control over more creatures, they’d all be targets. Even in Andarre.
Cade turned to her, his voice quieter now. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Throat tight, Bridget gave a small nod. “Yes.”
If Marin thought finding the crown was the key to defeating Vega, then they had to search for it. No matter the cost.
Stellan gestured toward the bed and pulled out a silver dagger from his pocket. “Lie down, just at the edge. Cassia will need to access—”
“Absolutely not.”
Cassia’s voice sliced through the air like a blade. She stepped forward, her face a mix of horror and protest. “Not on my bed.”
Bridget watched as Cade tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, clearly calculating whether murder or meditation would bring him more peace.
Castor sighed, despite the twitch of his lips. “Cassia…”
“There’s obviously going to be blood,” she added, glaring at the grimoire like it was personally responsible. “You are not ruining my favorite pair of sheets.”
Bridget ran her hand across the top comforter. She guessed she couldn’t blame her. They were annoyingly soft.