“Goodnight, Leigh. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He stepped inside his bedroom and closed the door, and I felt my way down the dark hallway toward the kitchen. A soft creak, almost imperceptible, sounded from above. I stopped, listening, and stared up at the ceiling like I could somehow see through it. Maybe it was just the house settling. Once I flicked the kitchen light on, it happened again, a light scraping sound that pebbled goose bumps over my arms. There were dead things up in the attic, and I was in desperate need of dead things.
I collected a candle and matches from the drawers, and then paced a path over my bedroom carpet while I waited for Dad to fall asleep. An hour later on silent feet, I slipped into the garage and tugged at the red rope to open the attic door. It protested in a loud screech, so I pulled harder until it stopped and darkness yawned up above. Stale air laced with decomposing half-dead dog wafted out.
It was just an attic, nothing more. I reminded myself of that as I snatched a flashlight from the work table and began to climb, breathing through my mouth so I wouldn’t puke at the stink. Besides, I didn’t have time for fear. But when I pulled myself through the small square opening, sweat ran down my sides anyway.
I pulled the beam through the darkness, searching for anything moving, but everything moved in the shadowy dance just beyond the edges of the flashlight. On tiptoe, I crept through the maze of boxes and along the wall of pink insulation in the direction of the dead dog. My heart leaped with every cloud of dust I stirred up with my bare feet, every scratch on my arm from the stiff branches of the Christmas tree, every spider web that tugged at my face.
The dead dog still lay there, its matted fur pulsating, its muscles twitching. I swallowed back the fiery bile climbing into my mouth. Oh, I couldn’t do this. This was Maria’s pet, a loved member of their family. How was this any different than raising Mom? I couldn’t do this.
I had to do this. How else was I supposed to know if my Sorceress power had become unsuppressed? If it didn’t work, then I was wasting precious time. One and Ica would make me their Three. The Core would open unless I could figure out another way to stop them, other than my non-existent Sorceress powers. Trammeler powers alone couldn’t do it. Not without all the help I’d had from Tram, Ms. Hansen, and Mrs. Rios the first time around.
Unable to look at anything but the dog, I dropped as quietly to the attic floor as I could with trembling limbs. The flashlight beam painted lurching shadows all over the walls until I fumbled for the switch to choke the attic in complete darkness. Then I lit the candle.
“The...the light chases away the dark. The light commands.” I ran my index finger through the flame, fast so it wouldn’t burn, and then back through again. “But the light has a weakness in its spark. A single burst of air, and I will do what the dark demands.”
Several heartbeats later, I blew the candle out.
My breaths came in ragged bursts, so loud in the quiet, and punctuated the words that Darby taught me. The resurrection spell fell out of my mouth easily until I finally ended with, “Break the ties that bind you to death” in a whisper.
I waited for something to happen. Instead of turning on the flashlight like I wanted to, I drummed my fingers on the hard plastic, close enough to the switch if I needed it in a hurry. A shiver skidded up my spine, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. It felt like something was watching me, and I whirled around, only to face more of nothing.
Freaking out about imaginary things wouldn’t help anything. I willed myself to chill, even though no amount of thinking it would make it happen.
Something thudded right in front of me. I fisted my hands to keep them from snatching up the flashlight. I pushed my lips together to keep from screaming and to keep from breathing in the growing smell. Another thud, and then two small, reflective silver orbs rose from the floor.
I grabbed at the flashlight and turned it on, but it slipped out of my sweaty palms. It rolled behind me and now aimed its beam the wrong way. Jumping shadows shuddered over everything. But the dark shapeless thing surrounding the silver orbs shifted. It rose from the floor in shaky lurches. I’d woken it up. I’d raised the dead.
I scrambled to my flashlight on hands and knees and shined it forward. A pair of silver eyes glared down a long nose with glistening white teeth below. An insistent whispered kind of growl that rushed shivers over my back fell from the black void of its mouth. Its four legs jerked underneath it, and its head shook in weird spasms. It stepped closer into the light, crushing the lamp shade under a twitching paw. My stomach churned. What had I done?
I backed away, unable to tear my gaze from the horror that stood in front of me. Then I turned and ran back through the maze of boxes.
Sharp claws scraped over the floorboards at a dead run. That same whispered growl seeped its threat through the cracks between the boxes and licked chills up my back. Urgency bit at my feet. Terror flooded my body at the tumble of boxes right behind me, the scramble of feet, the relentless whispered growl. All of it approaching much too fast.
I threw myself down into the dark square onto the ladder. But before I made it to the bottom, a long string of drool dripped onto my cheek from the darkness above. I looked up, but my stomach sank into the concrete below. Because the thing lowered itself into a crouch, staring down its long nose at me, and jumped.
I leaped just to get away from the rotten stink hurling down at me. The rough landing speared pain through my ankles.
The dog’s claws clicked and scraped at the concrete floor in the garage as it tried to get its legs underneath it again, just a foot away. I stumbled backward, trying desperately not to look at the whole left side of its body. Blood matted the fur it still had left.
It slinked toward me, locking its dead eyes with mine, drool leaking from its dark gaping mouth. Its whispered growls echoed in the small garage, surrounding me, consuming me with the knowledge of what I’d done.
“I’m sorry,” I said and jabbed a finger at the glowing orange button. The garage door rumbled open. I took Tram’s last wreath of hawthorn tree leaves he’d made me from my pocket and held it out like a peace offering.
The dog sniffed at the air and turned its head as though it was looking for me. I released a single breath of relief before I inhaled another and exhaled a single note through pursed lips.
The dog’s one ear perked up at my shaky whistle. I circled around him while I continued, drawing close enough for me to feel the cold radiating from it, and stepped out onto the driveway.
It followed, still sniffing. A soft breeze tempted him farther out, and he must’ve picked up a scent because he was soon scorching a trail of black ink across the yard.
I rushed back inside the garage and thumbed the door closed, guilt pressing heavy on the back of my throat.
The door leading back inside opened, and Dad stepped out. “Leigh, it’s two o’clock in the morning. What are you doing in the garage?”
My eyes filled with tears. “I think I got rid of the squirrel problem,” I said, and then I threw up all over the concrete floor.
Chapter 21
Day Two
Jo and Callum didn’t barge out after I spilled what I’d done. Neither of them seemed particularly disgusted, either. Callum sat next to me on the couch and tried to hide the tremor in his hand by tucking it in his armpit. Jo sat in one of the armchairs and tried to gnaw off her hand one fingernail at a time. I could only tick my gaze back and forth between them while tearing holes in my clothes.
“Someone say something,” I pleaded.
Finally Jo met my gaze, but I could read the wince on her face as she took in my new red hair color for the twentieth time that morning. She tried to hide her flinch by clearing her throat.
“You could parade around town with Mother Teresa’s head on a stick while littering Krapper’s streets with styrofoam and quoting non-scientists about what a joke global warming is, Leigh, and I would still love you. I would lecture you until you s
aw the error of your ways, but I would still love you. Nothing will ever change that, especially not now. Not when you’ve got the weight of the earth on top of you.”
I managed a small smile. “I wouldn’t dare do any of that, but I love you, too.”
“But you know what really pisses me off?” Jo asked.
“Here we go,” Callum muttered.
“You’re the only Trammeler left that anyone knows about, but you’re not the only Sorceress. There has to be more out there that aren’t on Gretchen’s side, but are they volunteering to help you learn your powers? No, because they’re scared shitless. Well, guess what? Cal and I are humans, but we’re not too scared to help you because we don’t want you to join the creepy stinky dead club. We would never turn our backs on you, not ever. And these people who are just going to sit back and see if a fifteen-year-old can take these deadbeat hoes down disgust me.” With every word she said, fire sparked bright in her cheeks until they matched the shade of her hair.
It matched my hair, too. Good thing she was on my side. “I’m not arguing with you, Jo.”
“You need help, and we’re helping you whether you like it or not,” she said, jabbing her finger at me. “Cal, talk some sense into her.”
“I’m not disagreeing...” I started, but then Callum scooted closer and pulled my hands free from the holes in my clothes. His warm, dark eyes searched mine, his mouth just a breath away. Even now, he could vibrate the air between us. The feeling surged electrical buzzes to my belly as he skimmed his thumb over my knuckles and pulled me even closer. “You...you can’t use your lips for sense-making,” I said. “It won’t work.”
“I wasn’t going to use my lips, you perv.” A devilish grin spread across his face, but he bit it back. “I’m the parrot to your pirate. I’ll be squawking on your shoulder and annoying the living hell out of you until the end.” He flinched as soon as he realized what he’d said. “And that won’t be tomorrow.”
I nodded and held tight to his hands while I turned to Jo. “You’re right. I do need your help, but you can’t be swooping around like superheroes and dodging in front of One and Ica when you shouldn’t be. I’m through with them toying with the important people in my life. You have to do what I say, when I say it. No exceptions.”
Callum lifted an eyebrow. “Sounds kinky. I’m in.”
If not for the dead serious look on his face, I might have laughed at that on any other day but this one. “I’m serious.”
“I don’t see anyone in this room who’s laughing,” Callum said.
“Fine. Jo?”
“You know I’ll do anything,” she said.
“Then here’s what I need for you guys to do.” I had no idea if this plan would work, but what I did last night...maybe I could make that work for me.
“What are you going to do?” Jo asked once I’d finished explaining. Some of the angry color had washed from her face, probably because I’d agreed to let her help me. No, not agreed. Needed.
“Take short trips here and there between Dad’s check-up phone calls. But there’s one more thing I need you to do before you leave.”
“What?” Callum asked.
“Go outside and touch the tree in the front yard.”
Jo shot to her feet, understanding glinting bright in her eyes. “You want to see if you can feel our touch if there’s trouble?”
“We can just text you,” Callum said.
I looked down at my hands clasped tight in his. His hand wasn’t shaking and mine weren’t trying to rip my clothes off. Both our touches together seemed to have a power all on its own.
“What if you can’t? What if there’s no time?” I asked.
“What do I need to do? Do I need to shake your hand like Tram did?” Jo tiptoed across the carpet and leaped the rest of the way to the front door to keep from contaminating the house.
“Um...” I shrugged. “I guess so?”
Jo thrust an arm out over the edge of the couch, her entire body stiff as a soldier’s. She clutched my hand in hers and squeezed until my fingers turned white.
“Ow, Jo.”
“I will serve you through thick and thin, Our Trammeler.” She blinked, and her face became a mess of emotions behind her red-rimmed eyes. “Until death do us part.” She turned away quickly to swipe at her cheeks and stuffed her feet into her sandals. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
I sat back into the cushions with a wobbly sigh as she stepped outside. The one and only problem with having a best friend like Jo was that it hurt like crazy to see the pain I was always putting her through. What had happened to the days when taping a Hitler mustache to Barbie’s face cracked us up to the point we nearly peed ourselves? Our Nazi accents were terrible, but it didn’t matter. I missed those days. I wanted them back.
“I’ll go, too,” Callum said, standing to pad across the carpet in his white socks.
He didn’t let go and neither did I, so I was forced to follow him. We just stood there in front of the door, holding hands, for a long moment.
“I’m not going to make an overly dramatic speech like Jo just did, but I want you to know that I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” he said.
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry about Tree—Tram, but...” He pulled a silver ring, my ring, from his pocket and slipped it into my hand with his customary scorching gaze. “You can still survive this without him, Leigh. You survived before, and you can do it again.”
I sighed up into his face, not sure what to say to this boy who swore he was leaving for baseball camp but still hadn’t. His eyes fell closed, making him look so peaceful. Jo once said he breathed because I breathed. So what if I stopped? Would that calm expression shatter to reveal something forever locked in misery? That was hard to imagine on someone like Callum.
He pulled me closer by my belt loops, his mouth hovering inches above mine so every breath warmed my lips in a cloud of cinnamon.
“You drive me crazy, Baxton,” he said.
“Yeah, well ditto.”
He moved out of kissing distance, leaving me lightheaded, and stared down at our laced fingers. “Sometimes you just have to be honest with yourself, you know? Decide what’s important and who’s important. Be a man instead of planning to leave without telling you because what if I hurt you? Or worse, what if you didn’t care?”
“I do care,” I said, and the warmth spreading through my chest proved it. Not because of his pretty words, either, but because it seemed as if we’d moved past whatever prevented us from expressing our feelings. I had no idea if he would leave eventually anyway, but he didn’t seem in any hurry now, and for that, I was glad.
I coughed, more to clear the air than anything else. “And sometimes you have to burn a school down rather than graduate. One was just easier than the other, huh?”
He snorted, and somehow I did, too. The boy was more magical than he thought. But the grin faded when he brought his face closer, his gaze holding mine once more. His bottom lip brushed over my top one, and that single touch sizzled electricity down to my toes.
“Can I use my lips now?” he whispered.
Despite my heart’s flip at the idea, I pushed him toward the door. “Go.”
He cleared his throat. “Going.”
Once the door closed, I turned to Mom’s picture on top of the piano, framed by silver lilacs. I quickly looked away and pocketed my ring. She was probably mortified that I’d freed One. Would she be equally ashamed if she saw me getting all friendly with Callum so soon after I’d watched Tram die?
I have no idea what I’m doing, Mom, in more ways than one. Maybe the Counselor was on to something when he decided to ring warning bells when his Trammelers got distracted. I could decorate myself with bells like a damn Christmas sleigh. But you have to know I haven’t forgotten about Tram. He might think I don’t love him, and I don’t know if I do, but I’ll never forget him. If there was any way I could change what happened, you have to know I would.
He
at brushed over my hands, so powerful it shocked the air from my lungs. It didn’t hurt, though; it felt like a surge of adrenaline powering through my fingertips and up my arms. One side reminded me of a lively fire pirouetting over my skin. The other felt firm and tingly, as though someone had doused my arm with a strong spice and was holding it there to keep it safe and warm. Jo and Callum. They were touching the tree outside, and I could feel them.
I charged the front door, and before I realized what I was doing, I stepped onto the front porch. My stomach twisted with a sick feeling. It sucked every ounce of energy I had from my limbs, and my legs buckled. But before I fell forward, a burst of purple energy connected Mom’s lilacs on either side of the porch with an electrical livewire. It zapped me backward into the screen door. Hard. Glass exploded around me and rained down on top of my head.
“Leigh!”
Jo and Callum rushed to my side. Callum held his arms out in front of him as though he was afraid to touch me, and Jo kept darting glances behind her at the lilac bushes.
“What just happened?” she demanded.
I opened my mouth but nothing came out, not because I was in physical pain, not because I’d had the wind knocked out of me, but because Mom’s lilacs didn’t want me near them. Were they repelling me for some reason? Were they the reason Darby couldn’t use the front door anymore? But why?
A crackling sound whisked every thought away. The leaves around the lilacs curled inward, turning inky black, and twisted free to land in the dirt with a sickening crunch. Delicate purple petals dried up and tilted their withered heads to the side.
Before I could kill the rest of them, I gripped Jo and Callum’s arms and hissed, “Help me inside.”
THE BALDING MALE LIBRARIAN behind the checkout desk at the public library backed away when he saw me come in. He ran into a cart full of books behind him, spilling most of them to the floor, and dropped the book in his hand. His wide eyes scanned my red hair, which still had bits of glass in it, and the three tattoo that I was no longer hiding underneath my clothes.
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