Demonglass hh-2

by Rachel Hawkins

  I finally tore my gaze away from the depression and turned back to Archer. My knees were weak, and my stomach churned with dread, but I made myself play devil’s advocate. “That’s not that many. Have you ever been to a big human school, Cross? Some of those places lose six kids in, like, a week.”

  “Sophie, two of those kids were Anna and Chaston.”

  I knew he was serious because he hardly ever used my first name, and then I just went ahead and let my knees do their thing and give out. I thumped onto the ground.

  “After the attacks, they both vanished,” Archer said.

  “No,” I said, thinking of Daisy that night at Shelley’s. How she’d kept insisting that The Eye couldn’t be there. “No, their parents came to get them.”

  Archer stood up and moved closer to me. “Did you ever see them?” he asked quietly. “Did any of us?”

  I racked my brain. Mrs. Casnoff had told us that their parents had come for them, and they were taking the year off. They were supposed to come back after the summer.

  But no. I’d never seen either of them—or their parents—after Alice fed on them.

  “I visited their parents,” Archer continued. “All four of them were under some heavy spells, Mercer. They were convinced their daughters were spending the summer at Hecate. Said they talk to them once a week. But none of our guys have been able to locate either Chaston or Anna anywhere.”

  My brain was spinning. Demons, missing students…

  Why had my life suddenly become a Nancy Drew mystery from hell?

  “Okay, but that would mean…” I could hardly say the next words. They seemed unbelievable to me. “That would mean Mrs. Casnoff is in on it, and if that is the case, my dad would know something about it.”

  “Not necessarily,” Archer said. “Hecate Hall and Graymalkin Island are completely Mrs. Casnoff’s domain. Your dad signs off on all the kids who’re sentenced here, but past that, he leaves it all to her.”

  Way to be screwed over by delegating, Dad.

  I stood up and paced a few feet around the basin. “So you think Chaston and Anna were taken so they could be made into demons?”

  “It seems to fit. Daisy and Nick are both teenagers; so was Alice back in the day. Maybe Mrs. Casnoff figured they’d be easier to turn because they’d already been up close and personal with the dark side.”

  “Why, though? Why would Mrs. Casnoff, of all people, be raising demons?”

  “It might not be just her,” Archer suggested. “After all, her sister works for the Council. Their father used to be the head. I think this goes way deeper than we can even guess.”

  I kicked a clump of dirt, and it tumbled down the sides of the crater, landing on the slab. For a second, I thought I saw something move, but it was probably just a trick of the light. “Cross, my dad thinks if he can catch the people who changed Nick and Daisy, he can get them to reverse it, and stop a war between The Eye and Prodigium. But if it’s the Casnoffs who are doing this?”

  Archer stood up, dusting his hands on his pants. “Yeah. As we’ve established, it’s bad.”

  “So…why did you want to show me this? You guys could handle this on your own. Why risk getting kicked out of your He-Man Monster-Haters Club?”

  “Because wecan’t handle this on our own. At least I don’t think we can.”

  “You said yourself you already have some Prodigium working with you. Why not go to them?”

  “We have a handful,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. “And most of them suck. Look, just consider it a peace offering, okay? My way of saying I’m sorry for lying to you. And pulling a knife in your presence, even if it was just to open a damn window to get out before you vaporized me.”

  Most girls got flowers. I got a dirt pit used for demon raising. Nice.

  “Thanks,” I replied. “But don’t you want in on this?”

  He looked at me, and not for the first time, I wished his eyes weren’t so dark. It would have been nice to have some idea of what was going on in his head. “That’s up to you,” he said.

  Mom always liked to say that we hardly ever know the decisions we make that change our lives, mostly because they’re little ones. You take this bus instead of that one and end up meeting your soul mate, that kind of thing. But there was no doubt in my mind that this was one of those life-changing moments. Tell Archer no, and I’d never see him again. And Dad and Jenna wouldn’t be mad at me, and Cal…Tell Archer yes, and everything suddenly got twistier and more complicated than Mrs. Casnoff’s hairdo.

  And even though I’m a twisty and complicated girl, I knew what my answer had to be.

  “It’s too much of a risk, Cross. Maybe one day when I’m head of the Council and you’re…well, whatever you’re going to be for L’Occhio di Dio, we could work on some kind of collaboration.” That brought up depressing images of me and Archer sitting across a boardroom table, sketching out battle plans on a whiteboard, so my voice was a little shaky when I continued. “But for now, it’s too dangerous.” And not just because basically everyone in our lives would want to kill us if they found out, I thought. But because I was pretty sure I was still in love with him, and I thought he might feel something similar for me, and there was no way we could work together preventing the Monster Apocalypse/World War III without that becoming an issue.

  Not that I could say any of that.

  Archer’s face was blank as he said, “Cool. Got it.”

  “Cross,” I started to say, but then his eyes slid past me and went wide with horror. At the same time, I became aware of a slithering noise behind me. That just could not be good; in my experience, nothing pleasant slithers.

  Still, I was not prepared for the nightmares climbing out of the crater.

  chapter 31

  There were three of them, and they had been human once. Many humans. Their bodies, as they hoisted themselves out of the pit, were like patchwork quilts of human flesh and mismatched limbs.

  They lumbered toward us, and the one nearest to me reached out one meaty, thick-fingered hand. His other arm, I noticed as hysteria bubbled up inside me, was slender, pale, and tipped with bright red nails.

  “Ghouls,” I heard Archer say. His voice was low and tense, like a person who’s being confronted by a wild animal. “Reanimated human flesh, used as guardians. Seriously dark magic. Someone obviously didn’t want us finding—”

  “Oh my God, less talking, more stabbing, please.” My voice was squeaky with fear, and I knew my eyes were huge when I swiveled around to look at Archer.

  He already had the sword in his hand, and he was crouching slightly. “I can slow them down, but ghouls can’t be killed by blades. You’re the one who has to stop them.”

  “Come again?” I nearly squeaked.

  “You’re a necromancer,” he said. “They’re dead.”

  Oh, right. One of the many “perks” of having a lot of dark magic at my disposal. But I’d never seen the point in boning up on my necromancer skills. When was I ever going to need to order around the dead?

  The things were getting close enough now that I could smell them, and it was all I could do not to gag. “I don’t know what to do,” I said, panicked.

  “Well, think of something fast,” Archer replied. There was a burst of movement out of the corner of my eye, and suddenly, he wasn’t beside me anymore, but in the thick of them, sword flashing. He caught one of the ghouls under the chin with the point of his blade, but there was no blood. The thing stopped moving, but it didn’t fall. Instead, it swept a hand at Archer like he was an annoying mosquito. But Archer ducked and swung again, piercing the side of the second ghoul. This time, a thick black substance poured from the wound, but the thing just looked irritated. No matter how much Archer hacked and stabbed, the ghouls showed no signs of pain.

  By now I had drawn up as much magic as I could possibly hold, but I was afraid to start sending big bolts of it into the fray. The last thing I wanted was to hit Archer, who, I was beginning to realize, ha
d definitely held back in Defense. I’d never seen anyone move like he did, his movements fast and sure. Too bad they weren’t doing any good.

  Finally, one of the ghouls got a grasp on his hair, and he winced as the thing jerked his head back. I think I might have cried out, but it was hard to hear anything between my heartbeat and the whirring of magic in my veins.

  “Could we start with the necromancing now?” Archer shouted at me.

  I held my hands out in front of me, pointed toward the ghouls, and did my best to stop panting, something that was hard to do when the smallest ghoul turned his head. I caught a glimpse of his face, which must have taken each of its eyes, its mouth, and its nose from different “donors.”

  Taking deep breaths, I gathered my power until I could feel it crackling in my fingertips. “Let him go!” I commanded in what I hoped was my most “I am a powerful demon” voice. Probably would’ve been better if my voice hadn’t cracked on the last word. I released the magic in my hands, which felt kind of like snapping a giant rubber band.

  A bolt of power flew from my fingertips, crashing into a nearby tree with a thunderous crack. There was a bright flash like lightning, and a branch fell to the ground. The ghouls startled, which meant the one holding Archer jerked his head back even farther. The smallest one made a noise that might have been distress, but they certainly didn’t seem under my control.

  And they weren’t letting Archer go.

  Okay, so my first experiment with necromancy was an epic fail. Take two.

  I fought panic and frustration. Shooting off my magic at the ghouls was no good, but what else was I supposed to try? “Think, Sophie,” I muttered under my breath,

  “Yeah, please do that,” Archer replied, his voice slightly strangled. The ghoul holding him had wrapped a hand around Archer’s throat. The thing’s expression wasn’t threatening, just curious, like he was little kid trying to see what would happen if he just kept squeezing.

  I slammed my eyes shut. Okay, they were dead. Yucky dead things. That smelled like—okay, those thoughts were not helpful.

  Except…they were dead. They’d come from the ground, crawled out of the dirt at the base of the crater. I thought of how my magic always felt like it was rushing up from my feet, and wondered if maybe that could be reversed.

  This time, instead of sending my powers out, I sent them down, snaking through the earth. “Release him,” I said again, quietly this time.

  I heard a muffled thump, and when I opened my eyes, Archer was lying at the ghoul’s feet, rubbing the back of his head. The ghouls watched me with blank gazes, clearly awaiting their next order.

  “What do I do now?” I asked.

  Archer got up and came to stand next to me, his gunk-covered sword dangling from his hand. “You can put them back,” he said. “Or you could let them go.”

  “What, like set them free to roam around the island? I don’t think so.”

  Archer shook his head. He was breathing hard, and sweat gleamed on his brow. “No, draw the magic out of them and let them be dead. Really dead.”

  “Okay,” I said, hoping I sounded confident, like taking the life force out of ghouls was one of my favorite hobbies, right up there with knitting and sudoku. But the weird thing is, as soon as I thought about it, I could actually feel the magic keeping the ghouls alive. I could almost see it shimmering like a black thread among my own powers. And in the end, it was a simple thing to use my own magic to “cut” that thread.

  As soon as I did, the ghouls slumped to the ground. I stared at their prone forms and said, “They look kind of pitiful.”

  Archer snorted, and I saw the ring of purple bruises beginning to circle his neck. “Forgive me for not feeling too sympathetic, Mercer.”

  I think he would have said more, but just then we became aware of something bobbing in the distance. A light.

  With a flick of my fingers, I extinguished the blue orb. I think both of us wanted nothing more than to turn and run, but crashing through the forest wasn’t exactly the stealthiest way to escape. Instead, we backed up until we were out of the “blast zone” and into the shelter of the trees. Then, even though it was agonizing and I’m pretty sure I’d never been more scared in my life, we walked quietly away from the crater, taking care with every step not to make any noise. I could hear the low murmur of voices, but we were too far away for me to make out how many people were behind us. That was the worst part: knowing that if I could just turn around and try to hide, I would know who was behind all this. But I couldn’t risk it. The best plan right now was to get back to Thorne and tell Dad what was going on.

  Only once we’d made it back to the beach did Archer and I break into a run, and by the time we got back to the copse of trees that housed the Itineris, I thought my lungs were going to explode.

  Archer braced his hands on his knees, leaning over and taking deep breaths. “I never thought I’d have to make that run again,” he said when he could finally speak.

  “You used the Itineris to get off Graymalkin,” I said, finally understanding how he’d managed to vanish without a trace.

  He just nodded before pulling the necklace out of his pocket and slipping it over our heads. “You ready?” he asked, holding my hands.

  I glanced over my shoulder, wondering how so much could change in so short a time.

  “As I’ll ever be,” I muttered before we stepped into the doorway.

  chapter 32

  The sun was just beginning to rise when we reached the corn mill, which surprised me until I remembered that A) England has freakishly early sunrises in the summer, and B) we’d been gone nearly two hours. I was pretty sure I’d never been so wiped out in my entire life. I felt hollow and exhausted, and as I looked at Archer, almost unbearably sad. I tried to tell myself that it was just because I’d been nearly squished by the space-time continuum, but I knew that wasn’t it.

  I think Archer was feeling something similar, because his hands shook slightly as he lifted the chain from around our necks. It hit the floor with a heavy thump, sending up a cloud of dust motes. They sparkled in the shaft of pale pink light that fell between us, looking surprisingly pretty for dirt.

  Archer’s face was streaked with sweat, and there was a smudge above his left eyebrow, as well as a dark stain on his torso that was probably ghoul blood. I had a feeling I looked just as rough.

  “Well,” he said at last, his voice slightly hoarse. “That was the worst first date I’ve ever been on.”

  Despite being so tired that I thought I might dissolve right there on the grimy floor, I laughed. So did he, and once we started, it was like we couldn’t stop. I knew it was just that weird mix of relief and fatigue, but it felt so good to laugh with him, I didn’t care.

  Tears dripped down my cheeks, and my sides ached, and for just a moment, I could forget I’d gotten myself involved in yet another potentially deadly mystery. I could forget that if anyone found out I had conspired with an Eye, I’d probably be killed in some sort of nasty, magical way.

  But as I stood across from Archer, I couldn’t forget that I was completely, stupidly in love with the one person I could never have.

  The laughter died on my lips, and I dashed at my eyes with the back of my hand. “I need to get back,” I said.

  “Right,” he replied. He was still holding his sword in his right hand, and he twirled the hilt, the point scratching the wooden floor. “So this is it. We’re done.”

  “Yeah,” I said, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat. “And I have to say, the world’s first and last Eye-demon reconnaissance mission went pretty well.” It was a struggle to meet his eyes, but I managed it. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged, his dark gaze full of something I couldn’t quite read. “We were a good team.”

  “We were.” In more ways than one, I thought. Which is why this sucked so bad.

  I stepped back. “Anyway, I should go. See ya, Cross.” Then I laughed, only it sounded suspiciously like another sob. “Except I won�
��t, will I? So I guess I should say goodbye.” I felt like I was about to shatter into a million tiny shards, like the mirrors I’d broken with Dad. “Okay, well, best of luck with the whole Eye thing, then. Try not to kill anyone I know.” I turned away, but he reached out and caught my wrist.

  I could feel my pulse hammering under his fingers. “Mercer, that day in the cellar…” He searched my face, and I could sense him struggling for what he wanted to say. Then finally, “I didn’t kiss you back because I had to. I kissed you because I wanted to.” His eyes dropped to my lips, and it was like the whole world had shrunk to just me and him and the shaft of light between us. “I still want to,” he said hoarsely. He tugged my wrist and pulled me into his arms.

  My brain registered the sound of his sword clattering to the ground as his other hand came up to grab the back of my neck, but once his lips were on mine, everything else faded away. I clutched at his shoulders, raising up on my tiptoes, and kissed him with everything I had in me. As the kiss deepened, we held each other tighter, so I didn’t know if the pounding heartbeat I felt was mine or his.

  How stupid, I thought dreamily, to have ever thought I could give this up. Not just the kissing, although, as Archer’s hands cupped my face, I had to admit that part was pretty awesome. But all of it: joking with him and working beside him. Being with a guy who was my friend and could still make me feel like this.

  “Oh, Mercer,” he murmured against my temple once we’d come up for air, “we are so screwed.”

  I pressed my face against his neck, breathing him in. “I know.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Reluctantly, I tried to move away. It was hard to think when he was so close to me. “If we were good people, we’d never see each other again.”

  His arms locked around my waist, pulling me back. “Okay, well, that’s not happening. Plan B?”

  I smiled up at him, feeling ridiculously giddy for someone on the verge of ruining her entire life. “I don’t have one. You?”