Harley Merlin 4: Harley Merlin and the First Ritual

by Forrest, Bella

  I knocked on the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Imogene, but we need Wade downstairs. I just got a message from Astrid—she needs everyone on the Rag Team.”

  She nodded, smiling. “Harley, what a pleasant surprise. We were just talking about you.”

  Wade looked at her in horror, my insides fizzing with happiness and amusement. His expression said a thousand words, and so did his emotions. They were jumping all over themselves: panic, embarrassment, affection, surprise, the whole shebang.

  “You know, about gifted members of the coven moving up in the world?” she prompted, nudging him in the arm.

  His cheeks flushed. “Yeah, right… that. Of course.”

  “So, we’ll continue this conversation later, yes?” Imogene said. “Harley, I was hoping to have a word with you at some point, too. It would appear that now is not the time, but I’ll arrange a meeting with you when it’s more appropriate. Would that be okay?”

  “Absolutely,” I replied.

  “I also wanted to say I’m sorry for earlier. It’s tough on all of us. I hate having to raise my voice, and I loathe confrontation even more. I hope you understand that I only did what I did for the children. They’re my primary concern here.”

  “I see that now. Did they arrive safely?”

  She nodded. “Yes, they’re at the Mage Council headquarters, where they’ll be sent on to a secure location. They’ll benefit from round-the-clock security measures, though I have endeavored to make it as noninvasive as possible. They’re only children, after all.”

  “Thank you, Imogene. I’m sorry, too, if I annoyed you back there. I know you were only doing your job.”

  “Nonsense. You were being protective, and that’s one of your most admirable qualities. It will serve you well in all that you do—it was simply misplaced on this particular occasion,” she replied. “Now, be gone with you, before I steal you both from under Alton’s nose and put you on the Council training program!”

  “The Council training program?” I asked innocently. I didn’t want her to guess that I’d been eavesdropping.

  She smiled. “A topic for another time. I should be getting back to headquarters, and there’s still a large amount of paperwork. I will speak with you both soon, though, yes?”

  I nodded. “One hundred percent.”

  “Yeah… for coffee or tea,” Wade mumbled.

  “Exactly.” She chuckled, the sound warming my heart. Wade Crowley liked me. He’d picked me over a potential date with Imogene—he freaking liked me!

  Twenty-One

  Astrid

  “We came as soon as we could,” Harley said breathlessly. Wade stood beside her, looking flushed. I didn’t like to make assumptions, but he seemed somewhat awkward around her, unable to meet her gaze. What’s going on there?

  “What did you find?” Wade prompted.

  “Ah, yes…” I snapped out of my thoughts, pulling Smartie out. “Since we didn’t get to finish the interviews today, and we were sweeping for Quetzi evidence, I decided to review some of the camera footage from the night that Quetzi was taken. I found a glitch. Well, I thought it was a glitch, but it was actually another shadow that I missed before. I didn’t think to re-check the footage down here till we were cleaning up, since the prison cameras were playing up after the Bestiary got hit.” I replayed the frames, showing them the new images I’d dredged up from the depths of the coven’s system. I’d had to look through them at a lower frame rate to make the picture clear.

  “I don’t see it,” Harley said, frowning.

  “Neither do I,” Santana agreed, moving up to take a closer look. Tatyana, Raffe, and Dylan were also there, though I’d kept the news to myself until the entire Rag Team were in attendance. Only Garrett remained absent, which irked me somewhat. He should have been here with us.

  “Here.” I pointed to a smudge in the top right-hand corner of the footage. To the untrained eye, it appeared to be nothing but a fuzzy mark on the camera. However, I knew better. It was an unmistakable, moving shadow, edging up the prison corridor.

  Harley gasped. “Holy hell, you’re right. Are there more frames?”

  “There are a few more, but they disappear at the far end of the hallway. Now, there’s only one place that this shadow could be heading, if it vanishes in the location that it does.”

  “Where?”

  Tatyana answered before I could. “The Crypt.”

  “Yup,” I replied. The fact had taken me by surprise, but now that I’d spoken it out loud, I was more convinced than ever. A locked doorway stood at the farthest end of the prison corridor, but only Alton knew the spell to gain entry. Well, him and I. He’d given me the privilege of learning its secret, in case I ever needed to go down there. Whoever this traitor was amongst us, they had somehow managed to bypass my father’s fail-safe and broken into the Crypt—a restricted area, deep below the coven, that only Alton and the Mage Council had access to. My thought was that they’d stowed away Quetzi so they could wait out the rest of the week until Alton performed his usual monthly breakdown.

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Dylan asked.

  “Do you think the spy will be down there?” Raffe chimed in, his eyes flashing that worrying shade of red for a moment.

  “Honestly, I don’t know what we’ll find down there,” I replied. “You can keep your fiery friend on standby, though.”

  Raffe nodded. “No problem.”

  It felt odd to be the one leading the charge, but they followed me down the hallway regardless. Reaching the vast, black iron door at the end of the corridor, I paused. It was a beastly thing, forged from thick metal, with silver bolts indented in the exterior. It reminded me of the door to a bank vault, rather than a place for the dead to make their final slumber.

  Pressing my hands against the central vein of the door, I recited the words Alton had taught me: “Omnem dimittite spem, o vos intrantes.” It had been my father’s inside joke, to use the same words that were written above the gates of hell in Dante’s Inferno—“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here”—though he’d translated the words into Latin to get the spell to work. I didn’t see the funny side, even now. I supposed it was hilarious to a Necromancer, for whom death didn’t have to be the end.

  The locks whirred inside the door. With a soft click, the two sides swung open, revealing a long, dark tunnel beyond. The medieval architecture of the arched tunnel, complete with flickering torchlight in iron sconces, certainly screamed “Crypt” in every possible way. Now, I could understand why we were supposed to abandon all hope. Although Alton had given me the password to the door, he’d never allowed me in the Crypt. At least not while I’d been in a state of consciousness. He never liked to see me around death, and I supposed this brought back bad memories for him.

  “Well, this is beyond creepy,” Santana muttered, breaking the tension.

  “Glad someone said it,” Harley replied, with a nervous laugh.

  As a group, we moved through the damp tunnel, which was slick with moss. The stone walls disappeared, revealing a wide platform. Flaming grates lit up as we neared, the fire roaring wildly, casting eerie shadows across the masonry. I lacked Tatyana’s Kolduny abilities, but even I could sense the presence of spirits down here. They whispered in my ears and nipped at the back of my neck, setting my fine hairs on end. The others seemed to be equally perturbed, with the exception of our resident Ice Queen. She, as expected, was taking it in stride.

  “Can you feel any spooks?” Dylan whispered, his arm around Tatyana’s waist. I would never have called him out on it, but I sensed he was holding her due to his own fear, rather than hers.

  “More than I can count,” Tatyana replied calmly.

  “Yeah, let’s take that up a notch to really freaking creepy,” Santana muttered.

  A winding stone staircase met us at the end of the open plateau, curving down toward a cavernous space below. It looked like an ancient mine or a dilapidated temple, discovered by old-time explorers in pith helmets.
>
  All along the far rock wall were the two-dimensional exteriors of mausoleums, running up five layers of strata. Stone stairwells and narrow ledges paved the way toward each one, my stomach plummeting at the thought of having to climb to the very top ones. Names had been carved into the lintels above some of them, but there were others that remained nameless. Either that, or the names had long been worn away by time and natural erosion.

  “Let’s get searching,” Wade said firmly. “If we split up into groups, we’ll cover more ground.”

  Tatyana stepped forward. “No need. If you give me a moment, I can ask the spirits if they’ve seen Quetzi here.”

  “Are you sure?” Dylan asked.

  “Quite sure.” Her tone held a warning.

  We stood and watched her as her eyes lit up white, her body radiating with spiritual energy. Through her pale skin, her veins pulsated, each one brimming with that same white light. It was impressive, no matter how many times she did it. As she worked, I glanced over the edge at the mausoleums and wondered where Emmett Ryder was buried. Alton told me a lot of things, but he’d kept that secret to himself. Still, I worried that the dead Ryder twin might somehow take hold of Tatyana.

  “The Angelov Tomb,” Tatyana whispered breathily, her voice echoing with the cadence of another person. “A man came. He held a snake in glistening restraints. He brought the snake to the Tomb of Angelov and left it there with the door locked.”

  “When?” I prompted.

  “On the day that the coven shivered,” she replied.

  Harley paled. “She means the day that Quetzi got taken. The force field that holds this whole thing up glitched for a couple of minutes—that has to be it.”

  Tatyana closed her eyes, the bright light fading. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as she came back into the real world, her hands trembling as the spirit left her. “He was strong,” she murmured. “That spirit—he was strong.”

  “Are you okay?” Dylan propped her up, his brow furrowed. I wish Garrett were here…

  She nodded. “I’ll be fine. He didn’t want to harm me. His strength took me by surprise, that’s all. It can happen from time to time, especially when I am out of practice.” Ever since Oberon Marx had hijacked her, she hadn’t quite been as confident in her abilities, and hadn’t used them nearly as often. A natural reaction to almost being overwhelmed by a ghost.

  “Angelov… There, that’s the one!” Raffe pointed to a mausoleum on the third floor of the far wall.

  We took off down the stone staircase and sprinted for the tomb. Dylan was in front, running faster than the rest of us, given his Herculean abilities. However, upon reaching the third level, and standing in front of the given tomb, we found that the door was, indeed, locked—just as the spirit had said. A huge, bronze padlock dangled down, the rusted metal glinting in the dim light of the Crypt.

  “I’ve got this one,” Dylan said. He took a few steps back, his heel on the ledge, then hurtled full speed at the door of the tomb. It shattered into a hundred pieces of rubble as he careened through it. A fusty smell seeped outward, while an impenetrable darkness faced us.

  Harley and Wade conjured balls of fire to light up the shadows, taking the first tentative steps into the gloom. The rest of the team followed close behind them, using the glowing orbs as a point of guidance. I didn’t know if it was because I’d been dead before, or almost dead, but I felt invisible fingertips on my skin. They reached out for me as if they knew I was one of them. I didn’t want to be one of them, not yet. It reminded me of Marjorie’s vision—she had seen me, dead on the ground. Now and again, since she’d revealed that to us, I’d awoken in a cold sweat, my nightmares peppered with my own demise. Never had the possibility of her vision coming to pass seemed so tangible. All of us would die one day, but I heard that ticking clock louder than most.

  “You took your time,” a voice echoed from the darkness. “Silly, really, to think you were the intelligent ones. Even I’d guessed that someone might come for me before the spy snatched me from my box and threw me, like a sack of trash I might add, in here.”

  “Who’s there?” Harley whispered.

  “Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots,” it replied. “What did that hulking great mistake with the fancy wings like to call me? Quetzi, is it?”

  Silence followed. Even I was shocked. I’d never heard any Purge beasts talk, aside from Tobe, and Quetzi had never done anything but hiss at most of us.

  “Quetzi?” Harley gasped.

  “I hate nicknames, but if you must call me that, then yes… here I am. You found me. Well done, you.” The serpent’s voice taunted us through the shadows. “Although I should warn you, if you think you’re returning me to my former prison, you can think again. You have no idea how delicious freedom tastes.”

  Every sibilant letter carried a low hiss that sent a shiver through me. I imagined him lashing his tongue against the air, tasting out his surroundings. Could he sense our fear?

  “You speak?” Harley asked.

  A chuckle rippled toward us. “If I had hands, I would applaud your human obliviousness.”

  “Fair enough, that was probably a silly thing to say. It’s just a little surprising to hear you, that’s all,” she retorted. “You haven’t spoken before.”

  “Even if I had, you wouldn’t have heard me through that charmed glass. Melodic, aren’t I?”

  “Uh… I guess so.”

  “Oh, and if you’ve come here to wreak revenge on me for that incident with the boyish woman, you can stop right there. I had nothing to do with it,” he said firmly. “That cretin peeled the skin right off me, and I wasn’t even ready to shed. Not to mention the venom atrocity—stole it right from my fangs while I was out cold and thought I wouldn’t notice. He might have killed her with it, but he took it against my will. I ought to wrap myself around him and squeeze the very life out of him for that. Had that nasty little Shapeshifter not had me bound, I’d have killed him where he stood. Nobody steals venom from me.”

  Harley cleared her throat. “We kind of did.”

  “No, I let you. There’s a difference.”

  “Well, are you bound now?” I asked, emboldened. Back then, it hadn’t seemed like he’d let us do anything. He’d put up a pretty good fight against Tobe for it to be a charade. I guessed he was trying to save face.

  He laughed. “Ah, wouldn’t you like to know, my little evader of death. I bet you’re all quivering with anticipation, wanting to know if I’m safe to approach. Well, you’ll only find out if you come a little closer. I won’t bite, I swear.”

  “Do you know who the spy is?” I pressed.

  “He kept changing his face—he wasn’t someone I recognized, but I’d know him if I saw him again,” Quetzi replied. “Although, you shouldn’t bother asking me if I know his name. He wasn’t generous enough to give one.”

  I frowned. “Why did the Shapeshifter make it look like you’d killed Adley?”

  “Ah, so you’re not here to punish me for crimes I did not commit? What a pleasant surprise,” he mused. “I presume Adley is the boyish dead girl?”

  “Yes, that’s her,” Santana chimed in. “Can I just say, it’s an honor to hear you speak.”

  He dipped his head reverently. “It’s always nice to see a Santeria. A very pleasant one at that.”

  “Why did the Shapeshifter set you up?” I repeated. Santana had stiffened at my side. Meeting a serpent like Quetzi had to be a big deal for her, although having one make flirtatious remarks was probably unexpected.

  He hissed. “You probably know more than I do. I could understand him wanting to steal me, perhaps, but setting me up for murder seems like overkill. Honestly, your guess is as good as mine. Rude of the Shapeshifter to try and blame me. At least you weren’t stupid enough to fall for that.”

  “If you come with us now, we’ll make sure Alton finds somewhere better for you,” Wade said.

  Quetzi laughed again. “A glass box is a glass box, no matter the size or th
e finery you offer me. And I am fairly sure that Alton isn’t about to let me roam free of my own accord, is he?”

  “He might,” I replied.

  “Come now, you ought to know, better than anyone, that he never would. Why, he’s almost like family to you, isn’t he? You know him best of all.”

  My voice died on my lips. He knows… How can he know?

  Before I could respond, a shadow surged forward and swept past the gathered group. Quetzi moved in a blur, slithering easily between our legs and out of the tomb door. Wade hurled his orb of fire at the serpent, but Quetzi dodged it deftly. One thing was for sure; he wasn’t bound anymore.

  We chased him out onto the ledge, but he’d already slid right over the lip. The serpent landed with a thump on the ground below. Harley threw her fireball at him, the sparking whorl almost glancing his tail, but he barely paid it any heed. Instead, he picked up speed, slithering toward the stone staircase that led out of the Crypt.

  “Cut him off!” Wade roared, as he launched a barrage of fire at the beast.

  Harley sent out a lasso of Telekinesis, but no matter where she sent it, Quetzi was always one slither ahead. Meanwhile, Dylan took off down the stairs at a Herculean sprint, as Tatyana lit up like the Fourth of July in an attempt to get the spirits to help her. Santana’s Orishas were pouring out of her, and Raffe’s skin turned a pale shade of scarlet. The latter took off after Dylan, black smoke billowing from his shoulders. Not for the first time, I felt useless. There was nothing that Smartie and I could do to help stop Quetzi from getting away.

  With the rest of the team, I ran back up the stone staircase and through the passageway, before the huge metal door blocked our path. I pressed my hands to the black iron and uttered the password, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Get it open!” Wade shouted.

  “I can’t!”

  He looked worried. “What do you mean?”