Aerie rocked on her heels. Adrenaline zinged through her, her heart pounding, her vision tunneled onto Charles. Her mind was a torrent of images, all the different ways she wanted to destroy him.
Cara’s voice drilled through the brain buzz. “You and me. We can take him. We’re faster. We’re better.”
Charles lifted the amulet, its baleful gleam oozing out around the stone. A faint wail—the sound of a man, many men, in pain.
“Finn,” she whispered, wishing for the first time she had the connection of the amulet, the link of possession. It would have been a bridge to wherever Finn was, a way to reach him. She was cut as cut off from him as he was from her. The solitude, the isolation was terrifying. “What’s happening to you?”
“The same thing that’s happening to your mother. He’s morphing. And since you won’t be my slave, he will.”
Cara reached for Aerie’s hand. “Don’t listen to him.”
She shook her off, her hands fisted in white-knuckled impotence. “He’s got Finn.”
“He’s trying to manipulate you. Just like he always has. Don’t listen to him.”
Aerie backed away from Cara, her eyes on Charles. “I have to, Cara. I lost my mom. I can’t lose him, too—”
“You can fight him, Aerie!” Cara snapped out her hands, which had become translucent and fluid and tentacle-like. An aquamarine glow illuminated the thin veil of her skin. “You have power. He doesn’t.”
“I know. But what about Finn? And Eilis? They’re both trapped in there. They have a family. I’m just me. Not really their family, am I? And not his.” She swallowed and cast a scathing glare at the man who’d pretended to be her father. “I’m not doing it because he wants it. It’s just the right thing to do. What choice do I have?”
“No, Cara. I’m sorry. I can’t—” Aerie hugged Cara, a fierce squeeze. “Promise me you won’t come after me.”
“What are you saying?” Even with Elemental power flooding through her, Cara’s voice held bottomless despair.
Aerie turned her back and stepped closer to Charles. “Pop. What do you want me to do?”
Charles tilted his head. “You know what I want.”
She closed her eyes and spoke the binding spell. Smelling the tang of the smoke rising around her, she held her breath. The pull, the stretch, the agony—
Cara’s screams turning into a waterfall roar—
“I’m sorry,” Aerie said. The words made no sound.
All she knew was darkness and silence.
21
She dropped into a dark space, suspended. Her head swam, her stomach rolled with the throes of vertigo. No ground. No up or down. No point of reference.
All that she saw was blackest of black, a prison devoid of light. All that she felt was the stinging burn of the demonic ley, its power dripping onto her psyche like acid. All she could do was scream.
“Finn?” Her voice bounced around inside her head, a swarm of maddening echoes. “Finn!”
“Aerie?” A familiar woman’s voice called to her, echoing and muffled all at once. “Aerie! Here. You have to dispel the darkness to see.”
“But in here—”
“You are here, with all your magic. That’s why he used these cells. We’d be useless if we didn’t have all our power.”
Aerie spun, no sense of place or direction, vexed. “Where are you?”
“Focus. Look for me.”
“I don’t know what you look like.”
“Yes, you do. The picture in Finn’s box.”
The picture. She remembered every detail of that woman’s face, burned into her mind during that brief look. She could use that. Aerie centered herself and made a circle with each hand.
When she did, the demonic ley responded. It flowed into her as if she breathed it in. This was the only power available to her inside the amulet: the power of a demon, one so notorious that holy scriptures had Named it.
And she had no choice but to use it.
Lifting her hands and crossing her arms, she waved her casting circles in front of herself.
“See,” she whispered into the void.
The void responded, commanded by the demonic ley that slithered through her blood. The darkness thinned, lightened, dispelled.
And Aerie found herself face to face with a woman, a beautiful sad woman with wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, a slender woman who looked as if she’d stepped out of the pages of a fairy tale. She glittered, lit from within by a power that she’d been submerged in for nearly twenty years, multiplied by the time distortion that was inherent to demonic ley. There was no passage of time in a place pervaded by a power such as this. Time was for mortals.
The woman covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were bright, despite the shadows that lay like bruises beneath them. “Oh. Oh, my girl. You’re grown. I missed it all—” She sobbed once. “And you are damned, here with me. I never wanted this for you, my dearest.”
“Mom?” Aerie whispered.
“I never thought I’d hear you call me that again.” Her shoulders shook and she extended her hands, beckoning to the child who’d been stolen from her.
Aerie went to her, hugged her fiercely, felt the reembrace returned. Years of doubt and force-fed resentment melted into hazy memories. This hug, this affirmation—Aerie felt loved and valued and cherished. She felt like someone’s daughter.
“Oh, Ciaran, my girl…”
Aerie drew back so she could look up into her mother’s face. “I’ve never been called that. I’m just Aerie.”
Eilis smiled. “Finn never could say your name.”
“Finn! I almost forgot.” She rubbed her temples, fighting to remember why she’d come. “Where is he?”
“He was here, the briefest moment. But then…you.” The coral glow of the ley pulsed beneath Eilis’ skin and her eyes warmed with a foreign power. “It’s confusing. I dream, I think. So long alone, now you, sweet you.”
She shook her head as if she tried to chase away a delirium, her eyes once again settling into a human shade of blue. “Listen carefully, Aerie. We don’t have time. Charles must be stopped.”
“What can we do from in here?”
“You’re strong. Plus…you have the book.”
The book! Of course, she had it— Aerie circled her fingers, wincing at the bite of demonly ley that latched onto her, and unzipped her Holding Plane.
Or, tried to. Nothing happened. There was no other plane here. Only the demonic ley. Aerie could feel it smiling at her, all teeth and claws, waiting for another chance to touch her. “I have nothing.”
“You do. You have it in your mind. Everything you read in that book, everything you’ve ever read—you have it, still. Call up the images.”
Aerie pursed her lips. Her photographic memory—that wasn’t simply her brain doing all the work. It was a simple human memory, upgraded by her natural affinity for magic. It she wanted to remember, she’d have to cast.
Now she realized why a spirit morphed in a place like this. Everything that seemed second nature to her actually was a second nature—the magic. The power of the ley. And in here, where there was only one kind of ley…
No choice. She truly had very little time. Who knew how many hours or days or aeons swam past while she dawdled here? And each breath she took, each moment she maintained the cast that allowed her to see her mother, each nuance was laced by a terrible black power that pulsed orange with hellfire.
She formed her circle and cast. A ghostly image of the book appeared between them, every page she’d read, every detail she’d examined.
“That bastard.” Eilis growled, her eyes alight with a crazy flame. “He used John Dee’s grimoire to power the amulet. No wonder Jim couldn’t locate the manuscript. This is banned, this damnable magick.”
“Mom, I need you to focus now.” Aerie fought the urge to reach out and grab her by the shoulders, to shake her, to break the thrall of the ley. “Mom! Look at me. Remember who you are.”
&
nbsp; “Yes…” Eilis whispered, her slender frame drooping. “Focus. Do it.”
Aerie flipped through the virtual pages, chapter after chapter of spell and technique. Near the back of the book, she found the memory of the spell she needed.
Self-Extraction Spell: In Case The Magician Is Caught.
“This is it.” She scanned the spell. No device or charm needed, it was a chant, a prayer of sorts, albeit an unholy one. A plea to the ley. Favors never came free, especially one from a demon. “I can get us out. Look, I can get us—”
“Not us,” Eilis mom said. Her voice was husky and gentled with regret. “This amulet holds you, and all that you are. Its dimensions were tailored to you at the precise moment you entered. Your power must become greater than your original self to escape it.”
“What are you saying?”
“All I have is this last bit of my original power. The rest has been…morphed. I will give this to you. You need it to escape this wretched place.”
“No, there has to be another way.”
“There is only this way. And you need to be ready to fight.” Eilis’ voice splintered into many cadences as she succumbed to her emotions. “Now. Rehearse the spell.”
Aerie read the verses, her lips moving silently. The ley crept closer, anticipating the moment she would reach out to it. It was an entity unto itself, a constant presence. Had this been her mother’s sole companion all these years? Who wouldn’t have gone insane?
How strong had her mother been, that she still held onto a semblance of herself?
Eilis placed her hands over Aerie’s, scrutinizing her face. “Got it? Good.”
The image of the book vanished, bringing a slight relief as she let go of the power that had sustained it.
Drawing a deep breath, Aerie circled and cast, chanting the verse. Once, twice, thrice…but there was no change. No sense of movement, not even a change in the taste of the air. The ley seemed to not notice her at all.
Not that she liked the attention of the demonic ley, but still. It would have at least meant she was making progress. “Why isn’t the spell working?”
Eilis tilted her head, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “Something is holding you back.”
“Yeah.” Aerie frowned at the walls, the oppressive stare of the ley. “This damned prison.”
“No. Something inside you. What holds you back?”
“Have you not been hitching a ride on my soul for the last two weeks? I’m the one who goes looking for trouble, not running from it. Maybe I should have been a little less impulsive…”
“No. Let me think.” Eilis rubbed her temples, her tone frustrated, her voice going screechy. She folded her hands and seemed to center herself. “OK. I’m sorry, this is very difficult. I need to show you something. And you will not like it.”
“I don’t like a lot of things,” Aerie said with a sigh. “What is it?”
“Something you showed me, at the beginning. You wanted me to be angry so you let me see a memory. I think that’s where we need to go.”
A memory? When did I— Aerie tapped her lips, trying to recall their first interactions. When did she try to make her mad? She’d spent most of the time trying to calm the spirit, not egg her on. Except for that one time, at the coffee shop with Jels…
Oh, shit. That one time, with Jels.
“No.” The mere thought of the memory made her face grow hot with remembered shame. Even here, in the scalding air of the demonic ley, she could feel the prickly flush spread up her neck and into her cheeks. “No, I don’t want to. Please.”
“You must. This is exactly why. You fear this memory and it is what holds you back. It keeps you from acting. Trust me. I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t necessary.” Eilis raised her hands, fingers curled in casting circles identical to Aerie’s, and readied herself to cast.
“Please. Don’t make me show you. I don’t want you to think—”
“I’m sorry, Aerie. Really, I am…but it’s the only way.” She cast an orb at Aerie, orange and sickly. The magic looked unhealthy.
And what was sure to come made her feel even sicker.
“No. No—NO!” She tried to evade the spell but, trapped in the amulet, there was no here or there. There was only everywhere and nowhere, all muddled up in a trans-dimensional muckety mess.
The orb hit her squarely in the chest, flashing across her senses, fuzzing out her edges. The hazy hellfire-lit walls of the amulet’s cell faded. Aerie’s stomach dropped out as if she were on an amusement park ride, caught in a free fall that wouldn’t end. She closed her eyes, biting back a scream—
And found herself staring into her bathroom mirror, her iPod on full-blast. She was herself, but not herself, like she was a spectator inside herself. Reliving the memory, she watched herself go through the motions of getting ready to go out.
This time, she thought. Pulling a straightening iron through her blond waves, she listened to the thin to sizzle when that heat hit the damp strands. This time, the night won’t end in disaster.
How many times had she had this same conversation with her reflection? How many nights had she spent in here, perfecting her eyebrows, blending her makeup, straightening her hair, striving for perfection?
Too many times to count. More than enough to become adept in the cosmetic arts. She’d never been a girly girl—there was no place for eyelash curlers in the dojo—but he liked pretty girls. So maybe if she looked like them maybe he would treat her like them…
She dusted her cheekbones and jaw with a final swipe of highlighting powder, emphasizing the dimple in her chin. Pursing her lips, she turned this way and that scrutinizing her appearance.
Perfect. More than perfect enough for him.
She didn’t know why she was giving him another chance anyway. He had stood her up and put her down so many times that a normal person would have just walked away (or, in her case, kicked his ass thoroughly).
But one didn’t kick the ass of the only boy one ever liked.
It was twisted, really. It would be one thing if Jels was just the local bad boy. Being with a bad boy would be great for her tough girl image.
But he was more than that. They went back as far as she could remember—the best of friends when they were small.
However, no one stayed small forever. Kids grow up. Jels started acting like every other boy in town—but he’d never stopped paying more attention to her than any other girl.
It was the kind of attention he gave her that had changed.
He picked on her. He was sarcastic and mean spirited. He knocked her books out of her hands in the hallway and dumped her tray at lunch. He stuck gum in her bike chain and put nickels in her milk cartons.
And when they got to high school it started to get really bad.
But never bad enough for her to hate him, not even when he put a For Sale sign in her car—and sold it. They’d been good friends before. This was just showing off for the other boys. Deep down, he still cared about her. She knew it.
He just never showed it.
And now…all these dates that never went off right. Every time, she’d get her hopes up and every time he’d do something to wreck them. But never enough to hate him. She could never bring herself to hate him.
The sound of a car horn blasted outside. She pushed aside the curtain and glanced out the bathroom window down to the parking lot below. A tan and black mustang was idling in the back lot.
Jels. He was here. He was actually here.
She ran out of the bathroom and raced down the hall, nearly tripping in her heels when she snagged the fringe of the runner. She paused only long enough to free her shoe. “I’m going out, Pop!”
“Have a good time,” he called back.
She hurried through the stock room of the store. Jels had said they were going somewhere nice so she had dressed up. The heels made running tough and her bare legs felt vulnerable and if she had to fight her kicks would be terrible. But she wasn’t going any place to spar.
This was a date.
She composed herself in the back of the store and paused before pushing open the door. The last thing she wanted was to look like a sweaty mess, especially after all the work she put into doing her hair. Opening the door, she walked outside, hoping she looked like a girl who knew how to walk in heels.
He didn’t get out and open the car door for her. That was okay. She didn’t have her hopes up that high. If anything, she was a realist. The fact that he showed up at all was a huge thing all on its own.
He watched her get in, his eyes taking every detail in at once. No mean comment, no sneer. “You look nice.”
“Thank you,” she said, feeling her face glow. “I wasn’t sure where we were going so I just threw any old thing on—”
“Yeah,” he said, cutting her off. “You’re a little overdressed. We’re just going to the lake.”
“The lake?” She tried not to sound deflated. Her usual jeans and sneakers would have been perfect for a day at the lake. She reached for the door handle, readying to get out of the car. “Should I go change?”
“No time. We don’t want to be late.” He put on his sunglasses and flipped up the sun visor.
“Late for what?”
“Everyone else is already up there.”
A little bit of adrenaline that slipped into her bloodstream, quickening her pulse.
Everyone else? She didn’t know this would be a group date. He was usually at his worst when everyone else was around. Hand still on the handle, she debated bailing. Before she could make up her mind, he pulled out of the lot with a squeal and was speeding toward the back road of the town.
Quit it, she told herself. This time was different. This time they were going to get back on track and picked up their friendship where he had seemed to drop it in seventh grade. They weren’t kids anymore. They were coming up on their senior year in high school. The time for kids’ games were over.
He drove to the state park and parked in the gravel lot. Another thing that wearing heels was no good for: walking on gravel. After a stilted walk and an awkward silence, they made it to the paved sidewalk.
If only he wasn’t walking so quickly. She loped alongside him, trying to find a rhythm to match their steps. Impossible to do with his long legs and her tight skirt.
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