“I’m simply putting things right—punishing the children of those who betrayed me all those years ago. Alec Crawford? He’s from the line of Joseph Hill, who was instrumental in casting the spell that entrapped me. The delightful Millie? Her ancestors, the Yates family, provided the crystal.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing—he’s admitting to murder, right here in front of me. There’s only one reason he’d be doing that: He doesn’t expect I’ll ever be able to tell anyone. I’ve figured him out, and once he’s finished his spell, I’ll outlive my usefulness. I have to get out of here, but I have no idea how. He’s blocked me from my magic, and I can’t see or feel enough to undo the ropes without it.
“And your friend Felix.” He sneers at the name. “Tucker Wolfe was the one who betrayed me to the town elders to begin with. Felix is the last of his line to possess abilities. That he still draws breath is a thorn in my side.”
Felix. The psychics. That’s it. Seth is tapping into my magic, but maybe he’s not touching my psychic side. I’ve moved things with my mind before—maybe I can move the ropes now. It might be a long shot, but if I can catch Seth off guard, it might be my only hope of getting out of here—and of saving my friends.
I need to distract him. “If you want Felix dead so badly, why haven’t you killed him yet?” Hope flashes. Maybe there’s something about Felix that Seth didn’t account for. “After we stopped the spell, why didn’t you just try something else?”
He snorts. “My own abilities are pitifully limited, so I needed help. Crystal Taylor and I have a long history—after all, she possessed my stone back when she ran her own circle. When I had my form again, it was a simple matter of reminding her of our connection. While my connection to magic was woefully limited, my psychic abilities have remained stronger. It took little persuasion to make her do my bidding. She didn’t even know she was doing it. But that changed when the target was Felix. Her consciousness fought back when she realized he was a child.”
I shiver, despite the heat of the fire. When Crystal Taylor died the day after the attack on Felix, I knew there had to be a connection, but I never considered this. She wasn’t just the next victim on a list—she was being punished for failing.
Seth turns toward the fire. With a wave of his hand, a bunch of herbs to my right lifts off the ground and flies into the flames, which devour them instantly. I’m struck again by the ease with which he’s wielding magic. He shouldn’t be able to do much of what he’s doing. “If your magic’s trapped in the crystal, how are you doing all this?”
He grins over his shoulder. “Do you know the best way to lie? It’s to tell things that are partially true. Abilities can be stored in quartz, it’s true, but they can also be directed into a willing host. My powers have increased with each death. Alec Crawford, Millie, Crystal Taylor—their energy now courses within me.” He shakes his head, sighing. “Unfortunately, this magic is merely a hollow echo of what resides in the crystal. Not nearly enough power to do what needs to be done.”
I take in a breath, calling on my psychic side. I need to keep him distracted. “And what needs to be done?”
“The town needs to be cleansed. It’s spent too many generations under the control of the ordinary and the unbeliever. When I control my magic again, Clearwater will return to its roots as a haven for people with abilities.”
I fight the urge to close my eyes in concentration. I don’t want Seth to suspect I’m up to anything. In my mind’s eye, I call up an image of a knot binding my wrists. I reach forward with my mind, willing the ropes to loosen. “If your goal is to reclaim the town for magic, why are you killing all the people with abilities? If you separate the circle from the crystal, won’t they all die?” I sink my teeth into my lower lip, wanting him to disagree, to share a loophole in the end result I foresee.
He glances back momentarily before returning his attention to the fire. “It’s lamentable, to be sure, but it’s unavoidable, really.”
My breath catches and my stomach clenches. Fox. I have to do something—I can’t just sit here while Seth uses my magic to kill someone I care about. I twist against the ropes, my heartbeat kicking up when I detect more wiggle room than before. It’s working.
“It is a shame about your friend Crystal. She looks so like my beloved Bess. She was from the Taylor line, too, you know.” He sighs. “Ah, well. It’s a minor problem—especially once I have my abilities back.”
A rope scratches against the inside of my wrist as it slides through the loops confining it. I tense as a burning sensation radiates up my arm. Seth turns, squinting, and I say the first thing that pops to mind to distract him from what I’m doing: “So, what? Crystal is some distant relative of your dead girlfriend and you were going to…? What? Dress Crystal up in old-timey clothes and convince her that her name’s Bess?”
His face hardens and a hard, sharp force connects with the right side of my face, sending me reeling backward. Unable to break my fall with my hands, I land face-first in the cold grass.
“You will not speak of my Bess with such disrespect. As if I could ever be satisfied with such a hollow imitation of my love.”
I roll onto my back, afraid he might notice the knots are looser than they were when he tied them, but the look on his face makes it clear he’s not seeing such details. His features are contorted in a mask of rage. Reflected firelight dances in his eyes, making him look entirely deranged. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly, struggling to push myself back to a sitting position.
Seth gives no indication he hears me. “Bess was the gentlest soul that has ever walked this earth. In the end, it was that gentleness, that goodness that was her undoing. She sought to keep her younger brother safe from a gang of ordinary who wanted to entrap him in a barn. But it was she who became ensnared when a lantern caught some hay alight.” His eyes squeeze closed. “But she and I will be reunited—and we’ll be together as we were always meant to be.”
So focused am I on the gentle tugging of ropes against ropes, the incremental slackening of my bindings, that I almost miss Seth’s words—and their implications. “You can’t mean what I think you mean. You’re going to bring her back?”
His lip curls. “That’s hardly your concern.” He tips back his head and I follow his gaze. The waning moon is high, almost aligned with the bonfire. “Not long now.”
His words send a wave of nausea through my stomach. If I’m going to get away, I have to do it now. If I can get the knots undone and catch him at the right moment, maybe I can get to the tree line. Abandoned is my earlier idea of following the river to civilization: Hiding in the woods is probably my best option now. But will physical distance be enough to block him from channeling my magic? I have no idea. I don’t know how to break his connection to me, any more than I know how to break the circle’s connection to the crystal without killing them all.
The ropes around my wrist go slack and fall silently to the ground behind me. Seth’s back is to me, his eyes still on the moon. I bring my hands around to the front of my body and my fingers dig into the knots at my ankles. Seth lifts his hands and my stomach clenches as the ember of my magic flickers to life. Whatever he’s doing, he’s starting now. My pointer finger wiggles into the center of a knot and I pull at the rope, slipping the ends over and through each other until it, too, falls. My eyes dart to the trees to my right and I take in a breath. It’s now or never. The power is beginning to well within me, and I don’t know what will happen once he begins the spell properly.
Heart hammering, I push myself to my feet and take off for the woods. I’m maybe twenty yards away. If I can make it, I might be able to hide somewhere. Ten yards. I hazard a glance over my shoulder. Seth still faces the fire. I might actually make it. I pump my arms and gulp in the cold night air. Five yards. I’m almost there—almost free.
Although my path is clear, I stumble, tumbling forward. With my right hand I reach down to break my fall; my left reaches for the tree trunk less than a foot before me.
My fingers don’t even skim the bark. My body thuds against the ground and my legs straighten behind me, pulled irresistibly backward.
“No you don’t.” Seth’s arm stretches toward me, his fingers splayed. My father’s ring glints on his pinky. My body bumps against the ground as an invisible force reels me back toward him. He raises his eyebrows, his expression dripping condescension. “Did you honestly think you could get away so easily?” He closes his fist and my muscles tense and lock, my body going rigid as a board. He smiles, his eyes flicking to the sky. “It seems that, like the moon, my hold on your magic is at its zenith. It’s time to begin.” He crouches to my side, brushing a strand of hair off my forehead. “I do hope you said goodbye to your dear Fox.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Seth begins chanting words I don’t understand in a low, rhythmic tone.
This is it. Game over. I’ve lost. My eyes fill with tears and I blink to clear them—thankful that my eyes and eyelids still function. The rest of my muscles are still frozen. I can’t even open my mouth to release the sob that builds in my chest.
I didn’t say goodbye to Fox. Why didn’t I? I take a tiny bit of solace in the fact that I probably won’t outlive him by much. Once Seth has his power back, he’ll have no more need for me.
The flicker of magic in my core flares, filling my abdomen. If only I could tap into that energy! To think, just weeks ago, that power scared me so much I wanted to tamp it down, to ignore it. Now I’d give anything to use it.
Tears streak from the corners of my eyes, across my temples, and into my hair. The cold night air freezes the damp trails. I’d shiver, I’m sure, if I could move.
Seth’s voice rises in volume and I stop trying to watch him, allowing my gaze to relax and stare straight up instead. The moon hovers above me and I fix on it. If I’m going to die, I at least want my final moments to be filled with beauty. I try to block out Seth’s chanting, but it fills my ears. Tears well up in my eyes so quickly I don’t bother blinking them away. The moon blurs to a smear of light against blackness.
A shadow crosses my vision, followed by a low grunt. Seth’s rhythmic chant ceases and hands clamp down on my upper arms. I blink rapidly and a face comes into focus.
Owen.
I want to scream, to wrap my arms around him, to smile—but I can’t. He pulls at my arms, trying to help me to my feet, but my muscles are unyielding. I cast my eyes in all directions, trying to see around him. Seth hasn’t pulled Owen away yet, and he hasn’t started chanting again, so there must be someone else here.
Two figures struggle against each other in front of the fire. One silhouette is clearly Seth, but I can’t immediately place the second. It’s not until he straightens to his full height that my heart twists with recognition: Fox.
“Krissa, what’s wrong?” Owen’s fingers dig into my arms.
I can’t answer with my words, so I try sending an impression telepathically. A slight widening of Owen’s eyes tells me he understands.
Fox lets out a low cry before crumpling to the ground near my feet. Seth straightens, wiping a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth. His lips begin moving in a murmured chant and I send another thought to Owen: Get my ring.
Owen nods and launches himself over my body, straight at Seth. Seth throws him off easily and Owen lands on the ground just inches in front of the bonfire. I wait for him to spring back up to his feet, but he doesn’t. Seth raises his arms toward the moon again, his volume increasing. My father’s ring catches the light and I stare at it. A jolt courses through me and I know this was Owen’s plan—he wants Seth to think he’s won. I reach my mind out to connect with Owen’s and then focus on the one thing that might stop Seth: removing my ring from his finger. Slowly, the ring slips upward, toward Seth’s first knuckle. His chanting reaches a fever pitch and Fox moans. With every fiber of my being, I will the ring to slide off Seth’s finger, but it doesn’t move. Fox’s moan turns into a wail and my skin prickles. If Fox—who used the crystal’s power least of all the circle—is in this much pain, what must be happening to the rest of them?
Fox’s body convulses against my legs. I’m losing him, and there’s nothing I can do about it. The ring still hasn’t cleared Seth’s knuckle. So long as he has it, he controls my magic.
Fox’s movements still and adrenaline washes through my body. I have to get to him. I have to. Abandoning my focus on the ring entirely, I turn my will inward. Seth may have my magic, but he doesn’t have all my abilities. Like using my mind to undo the ropes that bound me earlier, I see in my mind’s eye the result I want: the free and unrestricted motion of my body.
Fox moans and my right pointer finger twitches.
It’s working.
I imagine a pulse of energy shooting from my finger up my arm, coursing through the rest of my body, waking it. My muscles relax and I know it’s working. One glance at Seth shows he is unaware his spell’s effect is dissipating—he’s too focused on the magic he’s wielding now. I wiggle my toes before pulling myself up into a crouch. Owen’s eyes widen but I shake my head. I need the element of surprise. Seth stands a yard away, his face skyward. Fixing my eyes on his ring finger, I launch myself at him, knocking him off center. He stumbles, releasing a surprised holler. I grab around his wrist with one hand and yank my ring off his finger with the other. It slides off the tip as he collides with the ground. I curl my fingers around the ring, relishing its weight in the palm of my hand. The barrier between me and the spark of magic inside evaporates. I don’t wait for Seth to react, rushing instead to Fox. Owen is already crouched at his side, his fingers pressed against Fox’s neck. My blood runs cold as I lock eyes with Owen, terrified of what he will reveal. It seems a geologic age passes before Owen nods, a tight, pained smile almost imperceptibly tugging the corners of his mouth. My pent-up breath rushes past my lips in a relieved sigh. He’s still alive. And he’ll be okay now—Seth can’t complete the spell.
“Help me, Owen.” I hook my arms under Fox’s armpits and tug at him, but his body barely budges. He’s heavier than he looks. I glance back at Seth, but he hasn’t moved from where he landed on the ground.
Owen displaces me, imitates my posture, and hoists Fox to a sitting position. “We should go check on the others,” he says, grunting. “They all dropped on the way here.”
“The others?” Had the rest of the circle come to help, too? I peer through the black night but can’t make out their forms against the ground.
A low chuckle builds behind me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand at attention. I turn to see Seth, reclining easily on one arm, like he’s relaxing on a day at the beach. He clucks his tongue. “You think you’ve beaten me, but I assure you, you’re already too late. The spell is complete.” He inhales deeply, his chest expanding. “With every moment that passes, the energy from the crystal—my energy—is making it back to me.”
My muscles coil and my jaw clenches. I rush at Seth, wanting to rip the smug expression from his face, but with a wave of his hand he sends me careening to the ground. My hand opens when it slams down, the ring bouncing out into the grass. I groan as I press myself to my hands and knees, skimming my fingers over the blades of grass and twigs in the vicinity, searching in the darkness for the familiar circular shape.
“Zane’s death was an unfortunate loss—one I don’t intend to repeat.”
I stiffen, peering at Seth. “You mean the spell won’t kill them?”
He draws his knees to his chest, resting his arms casually around them. “You misunderstand. They shall all still die. With Zane, I was unprepared. I could have absorbed his abilities before they melted back into nature—as I did with Alec Crawford and Millie and Crystal Taylor.”
Seth doesn’t need to spell out what this means. I’ve already sensed the power within the crystal. That alone is a formidable amount of ability. Add that to the magic contained within the members of the circle and he’ll be too powerful to challenge. Unstoppable.
My finger
s brush against metal and I pick up the ring, slipping it onto my finger. Immediately, my muscles lock up again. Has Seth cast the immobilization spell again? He didn’t even move. But unlike last time, my body doesn’t freeze. Instead, it is as though someone else is controlling my movements. Stiffly, my body stands up from the ground, and my arms lift to the sky, like Seth’s had earlier. Out the corner of my eye, I see Owen imitating my posture, his limbs moving with the same jerky quality. Slowly, like an inexpertly controlled puppet, Fox rises to his feet, his head bobbing lifelessly, his chin to his chest, as his arms reach heavenward.
I’m sure Seth is doing this to us, but that idea is shattered when his face twists into a mask of fury. He stands, his mouth moving, but I don’t hear his words. My mind fills with voices murmuring words I don’t understand. They repeat the same phrase over and over, an echo building in my skull with each recitation. There are male and female voices and there’s something familiar about them, but I can’t place what.
Heat radiates from my ring, burning against my skin. Whatever is happening isn’t Seth’s doing—it’s emanating from the ring. I allow my body to relax into it, to let the words in my head wash over me. This ring was my father’s and his before him. It’s been passed down in my family for generations. I imagine the combined power of all those ancestors filling me, coming to assist me in this moment of need. In the past, Levi and his grandfather from my visions joined together to rid their town of a person with evil in his heart. They joined together to overcome Seth. Maybe they’re reaching out across time to help fight against him again.
The kernel of magic in my core flares, filling me with fire and ice, whipping through me like wind and supporting me like the earth beneath my feet. My consciousness rips open, images pouring into my mind, flipping by so quickly I can’t discern more than colors and forms. Fear clouds my head, punctuated by flares of hope, elation, and anger, before giving way to peace, like a tranquil lake winking in the summer sunshine.
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