Sorceress

by Claudia Gray

  “Oh, my God.” Nadia flung her arms around Verlaine, who hugged her back. “The magic is broken. But how?”

  “Asa.” Verlaine’s voice was husky with unshed tears. “He stole that love back for me. Gave me all the other love Elizabeth ever stole, too, which is nice, but kind of inconvenient, because on our way here two firemen proposed to me.”

  “Also Ms. Tseng at the 7-Eleven,” Mateo prompted her. “It’s legal here now.”

  “I know. Uncle Dave and Uncle Gary are planning a ceremony this summer, and I have to get a bridesmaid’s dress.” Verlaine made a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh as she pulled back from Nadia’s embrace. Her expression became grave. “Listen. I have to know something.”

  “Name it,” Nadia answered.

  “Tell me how to get to hell.”

  For a moment, nobody spoke. Nadia could tell that Mateo and Faye were as puzzled as she was. Finally Nadia said, “What?”

  “Tell me how to get to hell,” Verlaine repeated. Now her eyes blazed, and she looked like something out of mythology class, some avenging spirit set loose on the world. “The One Beneath dragged my boyfriend down to hell, and I’m going to bring him back.”

  By her “boyfriend” she meant Asa, who had helped betray them all. Nadia glanced at Mateo, who said, “Listen—I know he cares about you, but the guy’s a demon.”

  Verlaine turned on Mateo. “I’m not here to ask for your approval! Asa loves me. He loved me enough to take on eternal torment just so I’d have the chance to feel like I mattered. Even though he thought I’d only get to feel it for a few days before the end. Asa did that for me. I don’t care if he’s a demon. I love him, and I’m going to get him, no matter what it takes.”

  Faye shot Nadia a look, like, You have to be the one to talk her down from this. Mateo had folded his arms across his chest, equally skeptical.

  Nadia understood exactly how they felt, but the more she thought about what Verlaine had said, the brighter an idea burned within her mind. “Okay,” she said.

  Everyone stared, and Mateo said, “Okay what?”

  With a smile, Nadia took Verlaine’s hands. “Let’s go to hell.”

  13

  MINUTES FROM LATEST MEETING OF “TEAM NOT EVIL”

  Team leader Nadia Caldani called the meeting. In attendance: Mateo Perez (Steadfast, catering), Faye Walsh (Steadfast, temporary landlady), Gage Calloway (formerly in thrall to Elizabeth), and Verlaine Laughton (sidekick, chronicler of heroic deeds).

  Gage leaned over Verlaine’s shoulder to read her notes, then whispered, “How come we’re not ‘Team Good’?”

  “Nadia’s sworn to the One Beneath, and both she and Mateo are sworn to become demons, so I think maybe technically we can’t be considered ‘good’ at present.” Verlaine kept writing as fast as she could. “But it’s the thought that counts, right? Our intention. That’s what’s going to get us straight to hell.”

  “That doesn’t sound as encouraging as you think it does,” Gage said.

  They were sitting around Faye Walsh’s dinner table, set apart from the rest of the house in a dining room with mist-green walls and an honest-to-God crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Instead of fine dining, they were having a meeting about how best to keep the world from ending very soon, like possibly tomorrow.

  Verlaine had already figured out that they might not all survive. She figured her own chance for survival was probably lower than most, given that she was going to the demonic realm—which definitely counted as a bad idea. But if that was what it took to save Asa from eternal torture, then that was what she had to do. And Verlaine intended to leave a record behind.

  If we do die saving the world, she thought, at least they’ll know who to thank.

  “Okay,” Nadia said. “Here’s what we know so far. All Elizabeth’s darkest magic is built on emotions. She created the bridge to this world from sorrow and grief; now she’s creating the doorway for the One Beneath from fear and hate.” Her face seemed to have changed these past few weeks, Verlaine thought; Nadia seemed older now, but more beautiful in a stark way. It was as though a sculptor had carved her true features from the person she’d been just a few months ago. “From the time I started working with Elizabeth, she told me the ultimate weapon was forged from hate. It’s true in more ways than I ever realized before now.”

  “I thought love was supposed to be stronger than hate,” Faye said.

  Nadia smiled grimly. “Not in hell.”

  Gage raised a hand, as though they were still in school. “I just have to say, I’m not one hundred percent comfortable with how often ‘hell’ is coming up in this conversation.”

  “Too bad,” Verlaine said, still scribbling. “Because that’s where we’re headed.”

  “Not all of us,” Nadia said. “Just me and Verlaine.”

  Mateo leaned forward, his elbows were braced against the table. “I don’t understand. If the One Beneath has to move heaven and earth—literally—to get into our world, how are we supposed to get to hell like it’s, I don’t know, a stop on the bus?”

  “Not you,” Nadia replied, her voice soft. “I need you here. Verlaine needs to find Asa, so she’s coming with me to shield me while I destroy the One Beneath’s bridge into this world.”

  Everyone looked around the table at one another. Verlaine’s hand stilled, blue pen against notebook paper, as she took that in.

  Up until now, she’d thought this was going to be more of a snatch-and-grab rescue mission: Find Asa, grab onto him as tight as she could, and let Nadia bring them back ASAP, preferably before the One Beneath even noticed they were there. Nadia was talking about something much more involved . . . and wait a second. “Did you say I’m going to be the one shielding you?” What, did they think she had Kevlar vests for them or something?

  “Love is the only defense,” Nadia said. “Right now, you’re the most beloved person on earth. I mean, literally.”

  Gage smiled. “I’ll say.” Faye reached over to pat Verlaine on the shoulder, and both Mateo and Nadia looked at her like kids looked at presents on Christmas morning. It was simultaneously creepy and flattering.

  Nadia continued, “You’ve seen that, for the One Beneath, emotions are real. They’re tangible, palpable. That’s the material He uses to build everything He creates. So in hell, the love that surrounds you is going to be like—like a suit of armor. It can protect you for a long time. While you’re near me, you’ll protect me, too.”

  “So I’m in charge of protecting you from the lord of hell,” Verlaine said. Nadia nodded yes. “Ohhhhhkay.”

  “How can you destroy the bridge?” Mateo said. “Elizabeth built it. She made that happen. After that, I thought we were screwed.”

  “There was no way we could destroy that bridge while we were in the mortal world.” Nadia met his gaze steadily; a small smile even played on her lips. “In hell, as long as Verlaine’s defending me, if I have the right weapon—I could destroy it, I think. The door into the mortal world will slam shut again. All Elizabeth’s work will have been for nothing.”

  Gage raised his hand once more. “What’s going to stop her from starting all over again?”

  Nadia shrugged, and for the first time her tiredness showed; Verlaine wondered how long it had been since she’d slept. “Nothing. But this time we’ll know what she’s doing from the start. We can shut her down faster, and harder.”

  Mateo’s expression was grim. “So we keep fighting like this forever.”

  “Fine,” Verlaine said, forcing a smile onto her face. “Dandy. Bring it on. Because fighting forever beats the pants off dying any second now.”

  “I second that.” Gage nodded.

  Faye had been listening quietly, her hands steepled together. When she spoke, she’d clearly considered her words carefully. “I know it’s possible for a mortal to enter the demonic realm while they’re still alive. Momma told me that much. But if you’re going to destroy His path into the mortal world—that’s going to requi
re serious ammunition. Magically speaking, I mean. You’re an excellent witch, Nadia, but . . . I just don’t know whether you’ve got that much power on your side.”

  Nadia only smiled. “Elizabeth taught me about the ultimate weapon. I know what to do. And . . . I’m going to have help.”

  Quickly Verlaine added, “I just want to emphasize how much help I might not be in hell.”

  “I didn’t mean you.” Nadia’s expression had become more thoughtful. “I’m going to have to call in serious reinforcements.”

  What is that supposed to mean? Verlaine wanted to ask, but something about Nadia’s quiet intensity kept her from saying anything. The entire group fell silent, taking it all in.

  I’m going to hell. She’d jokingly said that before, when she ate the last of the ice cream without checking with her dads, or when she’d reblogged that naked picture of Michael Fassbender. It wasn’t a joke anymore. The place she was going would be so dark and so horrible that it would make Captive’s Sound look like the Magic Kingdom. What if Nadia was wrong about this stolen love shielding them? Was she actually going to do this?

  Mateo’s hand closed over Nadia’s, possessive and yet loving. Verlaine found herself remembering the way Asa had cradled her face—the warm touch of his fingers against her skin—and for a moment she missed him so much it hurt, so much she couldn’t see or hear anything around her. Nothing seemed closer, or realer, than Asa—even though he wasn’t with her.

  Yes. She was going to do this. Asa had gone to hell for her; she would do the same for him.

  Once Verlaine could focus again, she heard Mateo arguing, “I ought to come with you. I’m sworn to be a demon now, so that probably gives me the power to be there. Whatever the One Beneath throws at me, I can take—or I have to take, I don’t know. I could protect you.”

  “You can’t protect me now,” Nadia said, caressing his hand. “I need you here—there’s work to be done on this side, and you’re probably the only one who can do it. Verlaine’s the only one who can protect me. She’s . . . surrounded by love. She draws it to her. No one in the whole world is as lovable, as adored—”

  Verlaine whacked against the table with her palm. “Snap out of it! That’s just the magic thing making you think that! Come on, guys. Try to focus.”

  Nadia shook her head, and though she didn’t stop grinning at Verlaine, she was able to get back to the subject. “Verlaine and I descend into hell. Once we get down there, Verlaine, you’ll rescue Asa.”

  “Right. Yes.” This was the most important part. “How do I do that, exactly?”

  “You summon him with his real name. Demonic names have even more power in the underworld than they do here. Call to him, and he’ll have to come to you.” Nadia’s expression clouded. “He—he might not look like himself at first. Just know that and be ready, okay?”

  “Okay,” Verlaine said, though she would have felt better about this if she’d known what Asa would look like, if not himself. Then again, it was a visit to hell, not a beauty pageant. Whatever she saw down there, she’d deal with.

  “At some point we’ll have to separate, so you can get Asa while I attack,” Nadia added. “But we won’t be far apart, even if you can’t see me.”

  Gage raised his hand again. “Why wouldn’t she be able to see you?”

  “I don’t know,” Nadia said. “I don’t know what hell’s like any more than you do. We can’t afford to assume anything.”

  Not just descending into hell. Descending into a vast unknown darkness with realms of hell nobody on earth understood. No reason to panic. None at all. Verlaine took slow, deep breaths, like she had that time she nearly fainted at choir practice.

  “There’s one thing I know for sure, though,” Nadia said to Verlaine. “No matter what, don’t say one single word to Asa besides his real name. Not one. If you do, the power his name gives you will be—diluted. Maybe even destroyed. Just his name, nothing more.”

  Verlaine nodded. “Got it.”

  “How can I help?” Faye said.

  Nadia said, “You and Gage will have to keep back the people here who might interfere. That means Mateo has to take on Elizabeth.” Her eyes finally went back to him. “You’ll be alone.”

  Mateo shook his head no. “I’ll still be with you. Even if I’m not there. You know that.”

  Verlaine jotted in her notebook, The meeting came to a standstill for a romantic interlude.

  She used the quiet moment to mentally flip through her wardrobe to pick out the absolute perfect dress to wear to hell.

  Faye and Gage bickered a little over who would get the privilege of driving Verlaine home. In the end, they both went along for the ride, which gave Nadia and Mateo a while in Faye’s house alone.

  Nadia made an important phone call, then walked into the living room, where Mateo waited for her. She sank gratefully onto the couch-turned-bed, into Mateo’s arms.

  “Who did you call?” he whispered, between kisses to her forehead and her hair.

  “I’d better not say.” Nadia looked into his eyes, willing him to understand. “The fewer people who know, the less evidence there is beforehand, the less chance Elizabeth or the One Beneath will sense what’s happening in advance. If they know beforehand, that gives them a chance to prepare. I’d rather have the advantage of surprise.” It was one of the very few advantages they’d get.

  Mateo’s dark brown eyes were worried. “You know I wouldn’t tell.”

  “Not with words. But you might look at me at the wrong moment. React to the wrong thing Elizabeth said. Consciously you’d never, ever do anything to betray me—I know that. Unconsciously, we can all slip up.”

  “Okay.” Mateo stroked his fingers through her hair; the touch soothed her, so that she shut her eyes and leaned against his chest.

  Outside, the falling rain almost sounded peaceful. It was an illusion, but she could indulge that illusion for a few moments longer. Right now Nadia just wanted to pretend that she and Mateo never had to leave this room, that Faye wasn’t coming back in a few minutes, that they could hold each other until the very moment she had to go into battle.

  “When you defeat the One Beneath,” Mateo said, “what happens to us?”

  When, he’d said. Not if. He believed in her; that belief felt like the only thing holding her up. “Nothing much, at least not right away. We start over again, but smarter this time. Ready.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Which Nadia had known, really. She hadn’t wanted to face it. But this was no time to start acting like a coward. So she lifted her face to Mateo’s, so she could look him in the eye. “It doesn’t break the deal. We’re still sworn as demons. As for my being His Sorceress—that level of betrayal—it might break the bond between me and the One Beneath. Emphasis on might. So maybe at least I wouldn’t have to serve Him until . . . until I died.”

  What she didn’t add was that breaking that bond might be the thing that killed her. Going back on your word with the One Beneath wasn’t as simple as crossing your fingers, or saying, Sorry, never mind. There were penalties to be paid.

  She didn’t hide this from Mateo out of fear. She hid it for his own good. Mateo would need all his strength to go up against Elizabeth. He didn’t need distractions. He didn’t need to be more afraid for Nadia than he already was. She would bear that knowledge alone.

  Mateo sensed her mood, though he didn’t seem to guess the reasons for it. “Are you afraid?”

  “Well, duh.”

  He laughed softly. “I meant, right now. This moment.”

  “Not with you.” Nadia slid her arms around his neck and breathed in the scent of his skin. Every memory of their night together flickered through her mind, making her want him all over again.

  “Good,” Mateo said. “You and me—we belong to each other. Only to each other. Not to the One Beneath, or Elizabeth, or any of her curses. You’re mine. I’m yours. No magic is powerful enough to change that.”

  Nadia kissed him.
When his mouth opened against hers, her entire body seemed to go weak, like she didn’t have the strength for anything but kissing him back. She fell back onto the couch, towing Mateo down with her, until he lay on top of her and they could twine themselves together.

  Mateo pressed down against her, and the pressure made her moan softly. He kissed her harder, with more intensity, and Nadia slid her hands up under his shirt, along the muscles of his back —

  —and then she broke the kiss. Panting, she said, “We’re on Faye’s couch.”

  “Right. Right.” Mateo was breathing hard, too. He leaned his forehead against hers, and she could feel all his yearning. “Sure you don’t want to stay the night at my place? If we were really quiet, Dad probably wouldn’t know anything.”

  “I wish I could, but I . . . I can’t . . .”

  Nadia couldn’t concentrate anymore. Even the desire heating her whole body from within seemed further away. Nothing else compared with what she was sensing deep within Mateo at this moment. Now, when they were so close, she realized that there was a kind of energy inside him that hadn’t been there before—No. It had been, but less strong, less clear. She knew it now.

  “Magic,” she said.

  Mateo looked down at her. “Magic won’t let you stay at my house? Seems like it would help. Couldn’t you just, you know, enchant Dad into not hearing us?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Nadia scooted out from under him, just enough to prop up on her elbows and study Mateo more closely. How had she not sensed this before? But already she understood the answer. Mateo’s role as her Steadfast, and his bonds to all the magic that had been done in Captive’s Sound during the past few months—those had touched upon a dormant power within him. Awakened it. “You have the potential to do magic. Mateo, you could have been a witch.”