Harley Merlin 4: Harley Merlin and the First Ritual

by Forrest, Bella

  “Okay, I’ll get back to finding Quetzi then.” I was eager to get out of there.

  “Any luck there?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet.”

  “Keep me updated.”

  “I will, and thank you for not coming down hard on me about the Grimoire thing,” I said, with a shy smile. “I mean it when I say I’m sorry. I’ve been on my own for so long that I sometimes forget what it’s like to be part of a team.”

  “Just don’t do it again, Harley. The mirrors aren’t out of bounds, but don’t abuse them—that’s all I ask.” He cast me a sorrowful look. “And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I really would change it if I could.”

  “Thank you,” I said quietly, pushing back tears. “I won’t do it again.”

  “Then you can go.” He nodded toward the door, before his eyes turned to fix on the swirling light of the gold medallion as I exited the room. Stepping back out into the hallway, it hit me how strange it was that he hadn’t revoked my permission to use the mirrors. In fact, it made me wonder if he wanted me to follow my gut and do what instinct led me to do, since it had worked pretty well for us up to now. I’d have to test the waters at a later date. Either that, or I’d made him feel bad enough not to revoke my pass. Right now, there was a serpent on the loose and it had my name on it. Now then, Quetzi, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.

  Fourteen

  Harley

  I pushed through the enormous doors of the Bestiary, having bypassed the security personnel who were still recovering from the madness of the earlier commotion. I’d texted the Rag Team to find out where they were and received one reply saying “Bestiary” from Santana, so I’d expected to find all of them there. But Santana sat alone on the edge of one of the glass boxes. She looked up as I entered, a nervous smile on her face. Ah, the Thelma to my Louise.

  “How did it go?” she asked. “Was it the beacons?”

  “Kind of. He did the spell, but we’re still waiting on the results,” I explained, joining her up on the side of the box. “He actually wanted to talk to me about the mirrors, and the way I’ve been using them with reckless abandon.” I nudged her shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. She was anxious; I could feel it cascading off her in shivery waves that set my own nerves to jittering.

  “Is he mad?”

  I shook my head. “Nope, he’s just disappointed. Typical father figure.”

  “Does he know that I was with you?”

  “He does, but I told him you only came with me to make sure I was safe. Oh, and he also knows that you did a spell to trick Salinger. I told him I made you do it, but I only mentioned it to cover your intense Purge straight afterwards. He was asking too many questions about it, and I didn’t want to mention the summoning thing in case he freaked out.” I cast a sideways glance at her. “I’m sorry for bringing you into this, and I’m sorry I had to lie. I know that reading out of the Grimoire was my own fault, and I shouldn’t make you suffer for it. I just panicked and didn’t know what else to say to him about it.”

  She laughed. “That’s some impressive quick thinking, Harley. I’d have buckled at the first sign of an interrogation with Alton. Flash a light in my face and ask where I was at two o’clock yesterday and I’d spill every secret I’ve ever heard.”

  “You sure you’re not mad?”

  “Why would I be? You didn’t ask me to come to New York with you. I made you take me with you. I’m as much at fault for what happened that day as you are—we’re in this together, mi hermana, whether you like it or not.” This time, she nudged me. “I’m just happy it’s all out in the open with Alton, aside from the whole summoning thing. Every time I see him, I’ve been having damned palpitations, thinking he’s going to bring the whole Spanish Inquisition down on me. Now, I don’t have to worry about it anymore. The air has been cleared, the demons have been exorcised, and this house is clean.”

  I chuckled. “I’m still sorry for dragging you into my secrets.”

  “As long as you’re not going through them alone, I’m happy to be part of them.”

  “Thanks, Santana,” I said, buoyed up on her positivity. “Anyway, where are the others? I thought you’d all be here to find out what Alton had to say.”

  She shook her head. “They got bored and went off to carry on the wild Quetzi hunt.”

  “Any leads?”

  “None yet, though sitting in here waiting for you has given me a bit of an idea,” she replied, looking from box to box. “What if we used my Purge beast as a lead? I mean, I’m no monster expert, but what if these two serpents were like snakes of a feather? They look the same, more or less. Mine is just on the small side. Then again, who’s to say that Quetzi wasn’t a tiny little snake when he was first Purged?”

  I stared at her. “You’re a genius, Santana Catemaco!”

  “You think it’ll work?”

  “I think it’s a better idea than following a vague outline of a shadow to nowhere in particular,” I replied. “Smartie is an incredible piece of technology, but that shadow could’ve been anything. But this—this I can get on board with.”

  “Harley and Santana, the queens of loco ideas.”

  “Nothing else I’d rather be queen of,” I said with a grin.

  With that, we hopped down off the edge of the glass box and went in search of Tobe. We found him in one of the back halls, dealing with the sleeping figures that had fallen foul of the Ibong Adarna. It had been several hours since her song had knocked them out, and they were still snoozing. This wasn’t her gilded hall, but it looked like her chaotic brand of birdsong had carried pretty far before Wade and I had managed to apprehend her. The poor Beast Master looked exhausted, though he scooped each sleeping human into his arms as if they weighed no more than a child. Part of me wondered what it might be like to be carried by Tobe, awakening a vague memory of someone carrying me out of a car in the dead of night, and tucking me up in my bed. I couldn’t have been older than three, but the tactile memory was a new one. Did my dad do that, when we were on the run? It was the only explanation I could think of.

  “Harley, Santana, how lovely to see you again so soon,” Tobe said, unyielding in his politeness. “I thought you were joining the quest to capture Quetzi? I’d hate to think of the mischief he might cause if he manages to escape the coven altogether.”

  Santana and I exchanged a look. “Actually, that’s why we’re here,” I replied. “Santana had an idea of how we might find Quetzi.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I was hoping we could borrow my Purge beast for a little while, to see if my feathery serpent can’t sniff out its big bro. I mean, gargoyles get friendly with other gargoyles, right? So, why wouldn’t a serpent be able to find the location of another one of its kind?”

  “It is much too dangerous,” Tobe warned. “Your Purge beast might be small, but it’s feisty.”

  “We can handle feisty,” Santana replied, with a wink. “It’s in my blood.”

  He tapped his chin in thought. “I suppose you might borrow it for a short time, if you listen to my instructions very carefully, and keep your eyes on the beast at all times. However, the last thing we need is another feathered serpent on the loose, especially as we do not know your beast’s abilities as of yet. It’s only a juvenile, though there is potential in what I have seen.”

  “Weather potential, like the weather magic Quetzi can do? Storms, rains, tornados—that kind of stuff?” I asked.

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “So, how do we take little Fido out for a walk then?” Santana pressed, her eyes alight with excitement. I could tell how much she adored the beast that had come out of her. After the incident, it had taken her a couple of days to actually come down here and visit it, but once she had, she’d fallen in love. It really was like some kind of warped puppy to her, which was both cute and unsettling to watch. Then again, I supposed she liked the unusual things in life, Raffe being the main one.

  The two of them practically smoldered whe
never they were near each other, though thankfully they kept their PDAs to a minimum. I’d walked in on one of their smooch-fests while looking for a book in one of the reading rooms, but they’d been too busy to notice me and I hadn’t breathed a word of it out of sheer embarrassment. Still, it was nice to see that they were progressing, even if it did give me a pang of envy. I wanted to be the one smooching in the reading room, without a care in the world, oblivious to anyone who walked in. I wanted to smolder next to Wade every time I stood beside him, instead of being a bumbling idiot who could barely get her words out. You got a hug, Harley… baby steps are good, too.

  “I will show you,” Tobe replied, leading us back through the Bestiary toward the glass box where Santana’s Purge beast was kept. It was close to Quetzi’s, making his absence all the stranger—why hadn’t the little serpent gotten out, too?

  The little feathered serpent, who had yet to be given a name, slithered up to the glass and flicked its forked tongue against the interior. Its eyes lit up as it saw Santana, its scales shivering in excitement. It definitely seemed as though the feeling was mutual—the beastie loved Santana as much as she loved it. She smiled down at it and ran her fingertips along the glass, the serpent chasing them happily, its body wriggling across the ground. I had to admit, it was cute.

  “This is a Purge cord.” Tobe pulled a length of flaxen rope out from under his left wing. “I will lasso this around the beast’s neck. As soon as it has been pulled tight, it will remain in place until I remove it. It causes no harm to the creature, but make sure you keep hold of it at all times. This beast may appear sweet-natured, but there is cunning in all serpents.”

  Santana nodded. “Don’t let go—got it.”

  “Very succinct.” Tobe opened the door of the glass box and lunged inside. His strong arms wrangled with the serpent for a moment, before sliding the lassoed rope around its neck. He made it look improbably easy, as though he were merely snatching up a guinea pig for a bunch of kids to pet. Like a magnet pulling against metal, the cord fixed in place, unmoving as it attached itself to the serpent’s scales.

  Tobe led the beast out into the main aisle of the Bestiary, drawing the jealous stares of all the other creatures, still trapped inside their boxes. I wondered if Tobe ever walked any of them whenever the rest of the coven went to bed, giving them a bit of evening exercise. The image tickled me.

  “Can I hold it?” Santana squeaked.

  “You may—but, as I said, please do not let go of the rope,” Tobe said.

  “Thank you!” She reached out for the cord and took it in her hand, wrapping the excess around her wrist to make sure the serpent couldn’t go slithering off without her say-so. I’d never seen her more excited, a broad grin fixed on her face. “Who needs a pug when you can have a feathered serpent?”

  I laughed. “It suits you.”

  “Makes me look hella Mexican, right?”

  “Your mom would be so proud.”

  “Ah, man, I’d totally take a selfie of this if I didn’t think she’d cut me out of the family for dishonoring our ancestors. It might not be the Quetzalcoatl, but it’d be close enough to get a smack on the ass at the very least.”

  Before she could say another word, the Purge beast tugged hard against the leash. It wanted to head toward the main doors of the Bestiary. Seeing it strain against the rope, I leaned over and picked up a couple of Mason jars and a cluster of capturing stones that had been left out by the security personnel. Armed and ready, I smiled as Santana turned to me with a giddy shrug, the two of us hurrying behind the snake as we let it do its thing, like a serpent version of a water diviner. Only, we weren’t looking for a spring; we were looking for a bigger serpent. That part of the process kind of worried me, but we’d have to cross that scary bridge when we came to it.

  We sprinted through the coven corridors, turning endless lefts and rights along the labyrinthine layout, until my lungs began to burn, and my legs hurt. Santana did what she could to slow the serpent down, gripping the rope tighter in her hands and using her bodyweight to brace backward, but the serpent showed no signs of slowing. Its forked tongue flicked eagerly at the air, as though tasting something we couldn’t.

  On and on it pulled, leading us up to a strange panel in the side of the corridor wall. It headbutted the solid exterior with gentle thuds, determined to get to whatever lay beyond it. I couldn’t see any hint of a lock or a secret button or anything, but Santana appeared to know how these things worked. Resting her palm flat on the side of the panel, she muttered a few words I couldn’t understand, and the whole thing shifted to one side. Beyond it lay a concealed stairwell, a gust of ice-cold air spiraling up from the wrought-iron steps. The railings were covered in thick cobwebs and a blanket of fluffy gray dust that looked like it had been gathering for years.

  My boots left crisp footprints on each rung as we made our way down into the underbelly of the coven, following the serpent on its unusual route. If this beast really was taking us to Quetzi, then at least now we knew how he’d managed to avoid the cameras. He’d used the secret passageways that no doubt littered this place, utilizing them to keep himself hidden from view.

  “Stop!” I called out, as we pushed through an identical panel at the opposite end of the stairwell. I recognized this corridor, though it’d been a long time since I’d visited the subterranean world that lay beneath the coven. The dingy walls and clinical strip lighting were unmistakable, as were the metal-barred rooms on either side of the hallway. We were in the basement of the coven, where the prison cells were located.

  “What’s up?” Santana asked, fighting to keep her beast from slithering off.

  “Why are we down here?” I looked around, expecting to see the usual contingent of security guards. Instead, the corridor was silent and empty. Not a mouse stirred. I guessed they’d all been called to help capture the escaped monsters, with it being DEFCON 1 and all.

  “We might find Quetzi. I figured we should check everywhere.”

  I shook my head. “Why’s it so quiet?”

  “You’re right… it is quiet,” she murmured, switching to high alert. “Let’s follow Slinky and see where he takes us.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Slinky?”

  “Cool name, don’t you think? It just came to me.”

  “Very fitting.”

  Keeping our wits about us, we followed Slinky halfway down the hallway, until he stopped at the door to a cell that I recognized—one of the only occupied ones down here. The cell of Adley de la Barthe. While Santana battled with Slinky’s fierce strength, I approached the cell door and peered inside. The lights were all off, casting a dense shadow across the room within. Okay, something’s definitely not right. Tentatively, I pushed on the door. It swung wide without any force at all, creaking on its hinges as it gave way.

  Lifting my hands, I forged a ball of bright fire and set it in the air above us, letting it hover there temporarily. The powerful glow cast its light across the cell, chasing away the shadows to reveal a terrifying sight. I clamped my free hand across my mouth to silence a scream as my gaze settled on a shape at the far side of the room, next to Adley’s bed. A giant, freshly-shed snakeskin lay coiled on the floor, the gossamer material draped across the pale and staring face of Adley herself. It gave the impression of a horrifying mask, stretched across her features. Meanwhile, her body lay still, her chest no longer rising and falling with breath.

  She was dead.

  “Dios mio,” Santana whispered, her eyes wide with shock. Neither of us needed to check her pulse. It was clear to both of us that she wasn’t about to wake up. Ever. Her eyes were open and unblinking, all the color drained from her face.

  “Oh, Adley,” I murmured, sinking down to her side. I didn’t dare touch her in case this place needed to be swept for clues. The giant snakeskin was a dead giveaway, but even that felt wrong somehow. I couldn’t put my finger on what seemed amiss, but it gnawed away at the back of my mind like a determined woodpecker.


  “What should we do?”

  I stared down at Adley’s dead body, feeling tears prick my eyes. No matter what she’d done, she didn’t deserve this. Love had made her behave badly, but she wasn’t a bad person. “You should take Slinky back up to the Bestiary. I’ll call Alton and wait for him here.”

  “Are you sure? It can be uncomfortable to wait around the dead if you’re not used to them. I don’t mind staying here.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be okay. You get Slinky back to Tobe, and then come back here.”

  “Okay. I won’t be long. If you start to feel cold or you see anything odd, don’t panic—it’s perfectly natural when a spirit is on its way out. I’ll be back by your side before you can say ‘what the freaking hell is going on in this place,’ I promise,” Santana insisted, before hurrying out of the room, dragging Slinky after her. The poor creature seemed much less eager to make the return trip.

  With shaking hands, I lifted my phone out of my pocket and dialed Alton’s number. He picked up on the second ring, his tone abrupt. “What is it? Have you found Quetzi?”

  “No… not quite.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You need to get down to the prison cells right now,” I explained, my voice trembling. “Adley is dead. She’s been murdered.”

  A long pause followed. “I’ll be down as quickly as I can,” he said, at last. “Don’t move her, okay?”

  “Can you bring her back?” Tears trickled down my cheeks.

  “I won’t know until I get there,” he replied calmly. “Now, hold on. I won’t be long.”

  He hung up, leaving me alone in the cell with nothing but Adley’s body and a giant snakeskin for company. I glanced over my shoulder, scared of every shadow, in case Quetzi was still hiding amongst them, blending into the background. Looking forward was just as unsettling. Adley’s body was creepy and beautiful, all at the same time. She looked sad, her eyes glittering, her mouth turned down in sorrow.