He raises an eyebrow. “I must admit, I’m impressed. Your powers are growing.”
“It’s never too late to choose the right side.”
He shakes his head. “The right side is the one that will change the world, Dante. I know you don’t see it, but we can’t go on like this. Every living thing will be destroyed if we do.”
I scratch my head. “I do see that, actually. But I also see that yours is not the way to make things better. There’s a reason Lucifer got kicked out of Heaven.”
My words provoke more growls from the panda demons. They step closer again, but none of us moves. My friends understand as well as I do that we need to keep up the appearance of having the upper-hand here.
“You surprise me again, Dante,” Trevor says, with a small smile. “You realize the world is broken. Bravo. But what will you do about it? Sit back and let others do all the work?”
“Not at all,” I answer with a smile that’s wider than his. “First, I will make sure the most evil creatures alive go back to where they belong, which is far under the ground.”
“Do you mean dead or in Hell?” he inquires sweetly.
“That doesn’t really matter, as long as they’re not here.” I gesture at the line of demons by his side. “And as soon as all these poisonous monsters are taken care of…” I tilt my head as if I’m thinking, “… who knows, I might use my powers to make the world a better place. But with love instead of hate, and with kindness instead of wrath.”
Trevor unfolds his arms and claps in mock applause. “Nice speech.”
I bow. “Thank you. I didn’t even practice that.”
He lowers his arms, that change into red stone. “Too bad love and kind words don’t solve anything. And I can’t let you get in the way of our plans again.”
With an exaggerated sigh, I conjure a lightning bolt in my hand. “Same here.”
Meanwhile, my mind is whirling with possibilities. Obviously I can’t set the mages free. But if I keep them in their cages, Trevor will know I was lying. He probably knows where the mages came from already. His rank is so high in the Devil’s schemes that he must know about pretty much every single plan to strengthen his army. And if it comes to a fight, we can’t kill Trevor, because that will leave Mom unprotected.
Suddenly, an idea rises in my mind. If I keep up the pretense that we followed him here, he won’t suspect a thing. I’ll make him think I’m going for a new strategy.
Words jump around in my head, and I quickly arrange them into a ‘spell’.
I grin at Trevor and hope it’s convincing. “You know, the mages are actually not here to fight.” I put my hand into Vicky’s endless pocket and think hard about what I want. When my hand wraps around it, I squeeze several times. Then, I sprinkle the pieces around me and blow what’s left in Trevor’s direction. As fast as I can, I say the lines I came up with.
“With these mages, one to seven,
I block Trevor’s way into Heaven.”
I focus on lightning to make this look convincing. What I need is a spark, and that’s the only way I know of creating it without Trevor noticing.
But before I succeed, Trevor gives his demons the order to attack. Vicky, D’Maeo and Kessley jump in front of me, giving me time to conjure the flash of lightning.
It hits exactly where I was aiming, in the spot between us where the crumbs have landed. The panda demons shriek with surprise and come to a halt. And then, something miraculous happens.
The flash I created is followed by a loud rumbling. The ground shakes, and a metallic squeal drowns out all other sound.
I step back when the gates of Heaven tilt forward.
Trevor turns to see what’s happening, and even the demons look back.
Vicky pulls at my shirt. “We should go,” she calls out above the racket.
She bends over to pick up two glass cages, but they’re too big.
“I’ll take them,” Ginda says, twisting her wrists. “You guys go ahead.”
I shake my head. “No way, we’re staying together. We’ll protect you.”
“No need to run,” D’Maeo says calmly.
“What do you m─?” I look up and swallow the last word. The gates are coming down fast. They are pressed together by an invisible force, the bars bent as if they’re made of rubber.
Trevor throws me an angry look before vanishing into thin air, followed by the demons only seconds later. The gates crash to the ground in the empty spot he leaves behind.
“Nice job!” Kessley smacks me on the back and hops up and down excitedly. “I didn’t know you had a spell planned.”
“I didn’t,” I say, scratching my head in confusion. “That wasn’t even a real spell. I used cookie crumbs.”
“What?” Kessley comes to a halt and frowns at the folded-up gates that are rocking slowly.
“Then how did that happen?” Vicky asks with a concerned frown, nodding at the folded gates.
A vague figure appears in front of us, and we raise our hands to attack.
“It’s only me,” a low voice says.
I squint at the shape. “Quinn?”
“Yep.” In a blur, he moves closer. When he comes to a halt and places his hand on my shoulder, he becomes clear.
I slap him on the back. “It’s so good to see you. I was worried.”
“Things haven’t been easy up here. Did you come to help?”
I blush when he looks at me. “Well…”
“It’s fine. I know you’re busy.”
“Who is this?” Kessley interrupts casually.
“Oh right, you don’t know each other yet.” I gesture at Kess. “Meet Kessley, my sixth ghost.”
Quinn nods at her politely.
“And Ginda, a good friend.”
The flower witch gives him a shy ‘hello’.
“And may I introduce Qaddisin, God’s right hand, also known as my friend Quinn,” I continue.
Kessley bows deep. “It’s an honor.”
The flower witch’s long locks twirl in Quinn’s direction as she smiles at him. “For me too.”
“The honor is all mine,” Quinn answers with a smile, and both Kessley’s and Ginda’s cheeks turn a bright red.
I’d almost forgotten the effect he has on women. It’s an angel thing, so he can’t help it, but he seems pretty pleased with it, as usual, judging by the glint in his eyes.
“You know I will help in whichever way I can,” I tell Quinn, “but I’m not sure yet what I can do. Do I go in and fight the demons that entered?” It can’t be as easy as that, right?
As expected, Quinn shakes his head. “I don’t know either. Your role in this has not been written yet. It’ll come to you soon enough, though. And you already helped today, casting that ‘spell’.” He makes quotation marks in the air and shows his white teeth in an amused grin.
“What do you mean my role in this hasn’t been written yet?” I ask. “Doesn’t God write it all?”
“If he did, we wouldn’t need a chosen one to save us all, would we?” Quinn stares at me hard, and my cheeks warm up.
“Right, I hadn’t thought of it that way. So…” I continue, “did you bend the gates? Because that was not my doing.” I hope Saint Peter is listening. I wouldn’t want him to think I tore down his gates.
Quinn looks over his shoulder. “Oh, that.” He snaps his fingers. Immediately the gates are straight again and back in place. “That was an illusion.”
“No way!” Kessley points at the gates and starts laughing. “That wasn’t real?” She slaps her knee and nearly chokes with laughter.
Quinn frowns at me. “It’s not that funny, is it?”
Kessley is cracking up. “You guys chased Trevor away with a fake spell and an illusion! After all I’ve heard about him…” She grabs her belly and takes a couple of deep breaths. “Sorry.”
“Booze?” I ask her.
She nods and straightens her hair. “I apol
ogize.”
Quinn still has a baffled look on his face.
“She died drunk,” I explain to him. “And sometimes the alcohol takes over.”
Ginda winks at Kessley. “It was kind of funny though. I mean, did you see Trevor’s face? He was so scared.”
“And angry,” I say. “Which can’t be good for us.”
Vicky shrugs. “Isn’t he always angry?”
Kessley giggles and tries to hide it by slamming her hand against her mouth.
From the corner of my eye, I can see D’Maeo’s serious expression faltering.
“So how did you come up with the idea for that illusion?” I ask Quinn.
“I was on the other side of the gates with two other angels thinking about a plan to keep Trevor and those demons from entering Heaven. We’re still not sure how they manage to get in. Then you arrived, and for a second, I thought you had actually followed Trevor here. I was watching you and wondering how I could help if it came to a fight. As long as Trevor and the demons were out there, we weren’t allowed to leave our side of the gates. Then you came up with that brilliant fake spell, and I knew what to do.”
“It was very convincing,” I say.
“So were you.” He tilts his head, as if he hears something, and nods to himself. “I have to go. More trouble in paradise.” He turns back into his vague form.
“Good luck,” I tell him.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He holds out his hand. “The angel that was supposed to deliver these got held up, so I offered to take them to you. Now that you’re here, there’s no need to send them to Darkwood Manor.”
I take the envelope from him and open it when he’s vanished.
I recognize the contents immediately. “These are the next Cards of Death.”
Vicky frowns. “Why would he give them to us? We already found the soul they want to use to open the third circle.”
I turn the envelope upside down and hold it above my other hand. “True, but now we can find out if they’ve given up trying to get Chloe.” The cards slip from the envelope. As soon as they touch my hand, they turn to ash.
I let out a sigh of relief. “One less thing to worry about.”
Vicky bites her lip. “Unfortunately, it also means they’ll be looking for the next soul soon. Couldn’t Quinn have given us the next envelope too?”
“If he could, he would have,” D’Maeo says. “There is a time and place for everything. And I think all of the cards need to be delivered to Dante in order. One set will free the way for the next. That is often how things in Heaven work, or so I’ve heard.”
Ginda moves her wrists, and the vine she created picks up a glass cage. “I think the right place for us to be is back at Darkwood Manor with these mages.”
With a nod, I agree. “The ghosts should remain in their human form now, just like our disguises wore off when we got home from Heaven. Are you guys coming?”
CHAPTER 27
While we walk down the same path as before, leading away from the gates of Heaven, the snow and slush evaporate, leaving only clean, white clouds under our feet. At least, that’s the way I see it.
Vicky, D’Maeo, Kessley and I are each carrying a glass box. Ginda’s vines carry the other three. The ghost mages inside have settled down. They seem to understand there’s no escape. And they keep quiet, although the plants keeping their mouths shut have vanished.
Mona comes rushing toward us as soon as we set foot in Darkwood Manor’s front garden. D’Maeo sets down the cage he’s holding and kisses her on the forehead. “I told you I’d be fine.”
She doesn’t answer but buries her face in his shoulder. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this emotional, and my heart breaks at the thought of the end of our battle with Satan, when the Shield will move on. We’ll both have to say goodbye to the love of our lives.
Ginda pauses, and the vines come to an abrupt halt when she lowers her hands. “Back to the protective circle?”
I nod, and we follow her to the back of the mansion.
Charlie, Gisella, Maël and Jeep file out of the back door, looking relieved, although Jeep fidgets with the hat in his hands when he takes in the ghosts trapped in the glass cages.
I quickly fill them in on what happened and rub my hands. “It’s time for some questions.” My gaze falls upon the seven boxes lined up on the grass. “Who wants to go first?”
“I’ve got something to say,” a voice from the second box on the left says.
I walk over to it and squat down. “Go ahead.”
The ghost inside is that of a middle-aged man, with slick black hair and sunken eyes. His cheeks are unnaturally hollow, and his eyebrows scorched. He moves closer to the bars and shows me his gray teeth. “If you let me out, I’ll spare you and your friends.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I say with a patient smile. “I’ll ask you some questions, and if you answer them truthfully, I won’t torture you.”
“Forget it,” he spits. “I’m not telling you shit.”
I shrug. “We’ll see.”
I stand up and walk out of the circle. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got another spell to cast.”
“Wait,” Mona calls out after me.
She joins me at the back door. “There’s no need to torture them. I’ve got something that will force them to tell the truth.”
“You do?” The disappointment in my voice is audible, and Mona shoots me a concerned look.
“Don’t go down that path, Dante. If you resort to torture, you’ll be no better than they are.”
“Sometimes there is no other option,” I say, refusing to give in.
“But now there is. Please take it.” She reaches into the air and pulls a thin stick out of nowhere. She holds it out to me. “This is a twig from a Truth Tree. Aim it at the person you’re questioning, and they will have no choice but to answer truthfully.”
With a sigh, I take it from her. “Fine. It’ll have to do.”
Mona stops me from walking away by putting her hand against my shoulder. “Seeing even part of you turn evil will give our enemies only more pleasure, and hope. Holding on to our kindness will hurt them more than any torture you can come up with.”
“Okay.” I plant a kiss on her cheek and walk back to the protective circle, where the others are waiting and where Jeep is still shooting the captured mages nervous glances.
“You’re in luck,” I say, squatting down again and holding up the stick. “It turns out we have a painless way of making you talk.” Without waiting for a response, I aim the twig at him. “Now tell me, what do you know about the Devil’s plans?”
The tip of the twig grows. It snakes through the bars and wraps around the ghost’s forehead, even though he lifts his hands to ward it off. He struggles to tear it loose.
“Answer the question,” I say, and he ceases his efforts.
“I know as much as Jeep does, because I heard everything that was said around him.”
“So you also heard Shelton Banks speaking to Jeep?”
“I did not.”
“Do you know Shelton Banks?”
“Only from your conversations.”
“I see.” I scratch the top of my head with my free hand. “Then there’s only one more thing I need to know. If I release you, will you work with us or with the Devil?”
The ghost clenches his teeth and reaches for his forehead again, but the twig keeps its firm grip on him.
“I’m… on Luci… fer’s side,” he admits grudgingly.
“What a surprise,” I mumble. The tip of the twig shortens, releasing the ghost, as if it knows I’m done with him.
Without paying attention to the curses rolling from the ghost’s tongue, I move on to the next cage. I ask this one the same questions, and he gives me the same answers. By the time I reach the last cage, my hands are balled in frustration. This was our chance to find out more about Satan’s plans or about Shelton Banks. I was
hoping one of them knew something about the curse he put on Vicky. I still don’t understand why he chose to curse Vicky instead of me. What is so special about her ancestor?
Wearily, I hold out the twig to the last mage, wait for the tip to fold around his head and start again.
“What do you know about the Devil’s plans?”
“Nothing.” He spits the word out angrily, and for a second, his head flickers, and the crow he was shines through. “Nothing more than the others.”
I glance over my shoulder to where Mona is watching. “What’s happening? Are they turning back?”
The fairy godmother shakes her head. “I think he’s fighting the power of the Tree of Truth. He’s trying to turn back into his bird form so that he can’t speak anymore.”
Hope flickers in my chest. “That must mean he’s got something important to say.”
I turn my attention back to the seventh mage. “Do you know Shelton Banks?”
The mage tilts his head to all sides in a robotic way, his beady eyes and beak appearing for milliseconds at a time. The twig holds on, no matter how often he changes, forcing the ghost to answer my question. “I do.”
“How do you know him?”
He flaps his wings, that briefly return. “We were friends once, a long time ago.”
“Why did Shelton Banks put a curse on Vicky?”
“I do not know.”
My shoulders sag. I look around for help. What else can I ask him? He must know something we can use.
Mona walks up to me. “Ask him for Shelton Banks’ true name.”
“What do you mean his─”
“Just try it.”
“Okay. What is Shelton Banks’ true name?”
The mage lets out a scream of frustration, followed by a bird-like screech. He scratches the walls and shakes his head violently. Black feathers appear on his neck.
“Tell me!” I yell impatiently.
He presses his lips together, but the answer is pushed through them. “Clifford… Wilton.”
Mona straightens up and claps her hands. “Finally, some useful information.”
The Seventh Crow Page 17