25. Freddie
Freddie
The dining room at the Everfall Inn smells like rosemary chicken and the good wine Delphi only opens when family is in town.
Candlelight flickers across the long table, catching the scuffs in the old wood and the little constellation of crumbs someone always leaves near the bread basket.
Pleasant chit-chat has been bouncing around for the better part of an hour—Mom asking about the shop, Dad complaining about the state of the highways, Alden telling a story about a guest who tried to smuggle a live chicken into room three last week.
The food is ridiculously good: crispy-skinned chicken, roasted root vegetables slick with herb butter, and Delphi’s famous garlic knots.
Callum’s been a good sport through all of it.
My parents have been gently (and not-so-gently) grilling him—where he’s from, what his family was like, how he grew up—and he’s answered every question with that easy kindness and humor of his, never once looking like he wanted to bolt.
He and Alden somehow ended up deep in a conversation about rugby versus football, which somehow turned into them both gesturing with their forks.
Twyla is currently a warm deadweight in my hair, asleep.
Jett is somewhere in the kitchen, no doubt committing crimes for the cinnamon butter.
Dad wipes the corners of his mouth with his napkin and sets it down. The shift in the air is immediate.
“We need to discuss what we’ve learned,” he says. “About the Veil.”
The table goes quiet. Mom looks at him, then at the rest of us.
“We discovered this rip has been in the Veil for a long time now,” Mom says carefully. “And we suspect people are slipping into it.”
I nod, setting my fork down. “Callum and I found that out too.”
Alden’s brows shoot up. “Inside the Veil? What the hell does that mean?”
Mom’s forehead creases. “How did you two know?”
“We went to the Witch Wood,” I say. “We found the Frost Maiden. Well—” I glance at Callum. “She found us.”
Both my parents’ eyes go wide.
“And she let you talk to her?” Mom asks, voice full with surprise.
“Yes…?” I frown. “Does she normally not?”
Dad shakes his head slowly. “Nobody’s talked to her in decades.”
Callum clears his throat. “I’m pretty sure she stopped to talk to us because I’m related to her somehow. Like a great-great-grandparent or something.”
Mom whispers, “Holy shit.”
Even Dad lets out a low whistle. “What else did she say?” he asks.
I clear my throat. The words feel heavier now that I’m saying them out loud at a table full of people who love me. “Apparently I can fix the Veil. But I don’t know how. I’ve tried to read up on everything and I can’t find a single thing about it.”
Cass leans forward, elbows on the table. “You would be able to. With your magic, you can also get the people who are stuck in the Veil out.”
Fear prickles cold over my skin. “How?”
“With the help of some very experienced witches.” She looks straight at Delphi.
“Delphi and I can hold the tear in the Veil open and make it wide enough for you to go through. When you go through, you can bring the people who are in there out…and use your magic to bring the Veil back to its true nature.”
Callum’s voice is steady, but I can hear the concerned undercurrent. “What are the risks?”
Dad tells us. The list is not short and not comforting in the slightest—the drain on my core, the disorientation of the fog, the physical toll of stepping into a realm meant for the gray space.
My heart thumps heavily against my ribs. I shake my head, looking straight at my mother. “I have to do it. And I need to help Callum figure out how to get home,” I say, though the words physically ache as they leave my throat.
Mom’s expression softens, but she looks nervous. “I was going to bring that up.” She takes a breath. “You can bring Callum through the portal with you. Get him through to the other side.” Her voice drops. “But when you do that…Callum won’t have any memory of this place.”
My heart drops into my ass, then straight down to my toes. I stare at her. “What do you mean?”
Delphi cuts in softly, reaching across the table to lay her hand near me.
“There were memory wards put over the Veil a long, long time ago, Freddie. By the first coven. They had to protect Amberhollow. They made it so if an outsider stumbled through, once they were sent back, they wouldn’t remember.
They wouldn’t be able to tell the outside world about us, so the world wouldn’t come back to persecute us. ”
Callum’s voice is rough. “There has to be a way to break it, right? The memory wards?”
Mom and Delphi share another silent, crushing look.
“The only way he would be able to retain his memory and ever come back to Amberhollow,” Mom says quietly, “would be if an elder witch…sacrificed herself.”
“What the fuck?” I whisper.
A daze settles over me, hot and dizzying. No. That can’t be right.
My temper flares, fast and blinding, and with it, my magic snaps right out of my control. Down the hallway, glass jars on Delphi’s spice shelves start to rattle. A ceramic saucer in the corner cabinet shakes against the wood, making Alden flinch and Dad sit up straight.
“Why would anyone make a rule like that?!” I demand, my chest heaving, the room buzzing like a hive of angry hornets.
Callum’s hand wraps around my thigh under the table, his thumb pressing a slow circle against the fabric of my dress. The contact steadies me like a switch flipping. My magic calms, falling soft as feathers back into my core.
Delphi offers a sad smile. “Witches and magic are bound through nature. Everything has a balance. If you take, you must give. With the Veil, if an intruder is allowed to leave with memories of this place, someone has to give up their life to balance the scale.”
Callum’s whisper is almost inaudible. “A life for a life.”
Delphi nods once. “Exactly.”