“They are not your parents. It is not your house.”
Asa’s expression darkened, but he only said, “You’d better hope it’s my Neosporin, hadn’t you?”
They went to the Prasad home, where his parents greeted her with the same glazed delight all humans gave to Elizabeth. For some reason Asa didn’t seem to like watching her charm them into adoring her. Was his humanity getting the better of him already? Had he learned to like these hapless people who were sheltering a demon’s soul in their dead son’s flesh?
When the human world fell, and Elizabeth stood beside the throne of the One Beneath, she would slaughter them before Asa’s eyes. It would be a test for him, a test of his worthiness, a test he would certainly fail.
In the family bathroom, Elizabeth stared dully at a dish filled with shell-shaped soaps—what an odd thing to possess—while Asa worked on her burns. He muttered, “If you’re going to burn gashes in your flesh that will never heal, you might consider keeping your own medical supplies at hand.”
Elizabeth hadn’t entered an apothecary’s shop in nearly one hundred and fifty years, so she didn’t recognize any of the items he’d taken from the medicine chest. No matter. He would fix this, and she could go on.
It was true that the seal had seared her arm terribly. His pathway had been burned into this world; all that remained was for the bridge to be built.
That bridge was weaving itself longer, stronger, and broader every single moment—
She first felt the warning—a shiver in the air that made her hair stand on end. Was it her Book of Shadows? Her sense of magic? As Elizabeth jerked to her feet, Asa sensed it, too. He began backing away as she said, “Stop time.”
He hesitated. The insolent beast hesitated. His hatred of her was as obvious as his pride, and he would pay for both.
Elizabeth shouted, “Do it!”
Asa brought his hands together again. For a moment they glared at each other, before she turned and stalked out of the bathroom. His nursing appeared to be at an end, and she intended to deal with this latest interruption immediately.
They went past the Prasads, who were frozen in place in front of their television set. Wordlessly they walked side by side down the few blocks that led to her house . . .
. . . which was on fire.
The fire was frozen, of course. Each orange flame glowed still and slow, like electric lights rather than any natural burning. To judge from the fact that her house still stood and looked relatively undamaged, the fire could only have just started. And yet it had already spread throughout her house. Only magical flame did this.
“Where is she?” Elizabeth had to look over the area two or three times before she saw Nadia Caldani standing there. That spell of shadow had been well cast; even knowing of her presence, it was hard for Elizabeth to focus on her. But perhaps that was only the “infection” of which Asa spoke, muddying her mind.
Elizabeth walked into her house, easily stepping around the tongues of still fire. Every flame was frozen in place, each flicker like a sculpture of glowing gold. The heat remained, but Elizabeth could endure that. For one moment she simply stared at the brilliant light around her attempting to consume her home and spell book.
Asa paid the heat no mind, of course; he was used to hell. He didn’t even take off his coat. “A spell of conflagration. Nicely done. She could have gotten your Book of Shadows if we’d been only a few seconds later.”
Conflagration was indeed a sudden and devastating spell. It worked faster than virtually any defense. With a demon on her side, though, Elizabeth had all the time she needed for a spell of negation.
A wish unspoken.
A promise broken.
The work of a lifetime destroyed.
She held out her hands, allowing her fingers to rest in the heat of the still flames themselves, as she brought the ingredients together. The light was so brilliant she could see through her own skin and muscle, revealing the dark outline of bone.
Lauren Cabot, determined never to marry, defying Elizabeth’s wishes and insisting she had to go through life alone—never able to carry the curse herself lest she self-destruct before bearing the children Elizabeth needed to endure the curse next—and then one day turning her head to look at the handsome newcomer in town, Alejandro Perez—not daring to speak of her longing, but it was there, and in that moment Elizabeth knew the line would continue.
“You don’t interfere with us,” the witch said, “and we don’t interfere with you.” As if her weak, pitiful little coven could interfere with Elizabeth’s great work. But she nodded and even smiled, only waiting for the moment to destroy them all.
Standing in the wreckage of the Halloween carnival, feeling the jagged tears in the world where the One Beneath’s cell had been, thinking of every witch who had given her life’s work, or even her life, to trap Him—but now at last His cell had been broken open and He might now walk free—
Instantly the fire went completely out. Her house wasn’t even damaged; the only evidence of the spell of conflagration was a thin layer of ash lying over every surface. Asa brushed off his black coat with distaste. “What a mess.”
But when he held up his hands to let time resume, Elizabeth shook her head. “Not yet.”
Elizabeth walked outside directly to where Nadia stood on the sidewalk nearby, her bracelet of witching charms still clutched in one hand. The wind had caught her ponytail, and time had stopped at a moment where the intent on her face was very clear, very real.
“She’s strong, this one,” Asa said. “She’ll do whatever it takes to save the soul of the boy she loves.”
Elizabeth could not imagine a greater waste of time than saving someone’s soul. “Begin again.”
Asa clapped his hands, and time returned. Nadia startled; she had been staring at a house on fire, only to have it instantly go out—and see Elizabeth apparently materialize in front of her. When she glanced at Asa, though, she obviously realized what had happened. Her face flushed with anger. “If Asa hadn’t been with you—”
There were other ways in which she might have saved her home and spell book, but no point in letting Nadia learn too much about her power until they were on the same side. “Asa is here,” Elizabeth said evenly. “And so you failed again.”
Nadia sagged against the nearest tree in disappointment—and Elizabeth smiled.
“Doesn’t this make it even more clear that your skills are lacking?” She tried to say this pleasantly, to show none of her impatience. “That you have so much more to learn?”
“Not from you,” Nadia said. “Never from you.”
Asa chimed in. “I don’t know where else you expect to learn anything. Certainly not at Rodman. After two weeks, I have no trouble pronouncing high school a total loss. Nothing they teach will ever be relevant to your existence ever again. Except calculus. They have calculus in hell.”
Elizabeth ignored this irrelevancy. Her eyes never left Nadia’s face. Though to any outside observer they looked the same age, she could feel all the centuries that lay between her life and Nadia’s. What had it been like to be so young, to still have hope that the world could be made new and sweet, that it might comply with your will? She couldn’t remember. Perhaps she had never been quite as young as that, even as a girl.
If she couldn’t speak to Nadia as a young woman, then perhaps it was time to age her spirit. To show her what the world really was.
“So what are you going to do?” Nadia hadn’t backed up even a single step; that took some courage. “Do whatever you want to me, but I swear to God, if you go after my father again—”
“If I go after him again, he’ll enjoy it. At least for a little while. But your father isn’t the one you should be thinking about. If I were you, I’d realize it was well overdue to start thinking about your mother.”
Nadia actually laughed. “My mother has nothing to do with this. She’s not even here.”
“Did you think that was coincidence?”
&nbs
p; It was always so delicious, that moment of realization: the moment when people realized the trouble they were in was infinitely deeper than they’d ever dreamed—the moment when uncertainty or tension turned into real fear. Real fear was sweeter to Elizabeth than wine.
“You didn’t do anything to her,” Nadia said, trying to sound more certain than she truly was. “She left us. Just—left. Moved out. Got a divorce. Same old story. You didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“No, I didn’t. And yet I know the truth about what happened—a truth you haven’t even begun to guess.”
Even more beautiful was the first real temptation. Nadia could have turned her back on all the wisdom and witchcraft Elizabeth had gathered during the past four centuries, but knowledge about her mother? That was the perfect bait for the hook. Nadia actually took a step forward then. Good. The best witches were always more strongly motivated by curiosity rather than fear. “Did you make her leave us?”
Elizabeth laughed. My God, the girl really was still a child. “No. Why would I? I didn’t even know you then. But surely it struck you as strange. Even if your mother had come to despise your father—even if she couldn’t stand the endless annoying burdens of motherhood one day longer—she remained a witch. Your teacher. Responsible for your training. Even if she had abandoned you as a parent, she wouldn’t have abandoned you as a witch. At the very least, she would have found a coven to bring you along. But she didn’t, did she?”
“I don’t understand.” Nadia looked halfway wild now. “You know she didn’t—she just—what are you saying? Tell me. Just tell me!”
She slipped it in as swiftly and smoothly as she would have a dagger into the ribs. “Your mother didn’t abandon you, Nadia. She traded you.”
Nadia jerked back, stiff as though she were in physical pain. For whatever reason, she looked toward Asa, who shrugged. “It’s news to me.”
Pressing her advantage, Elizabeth added, “Your mother traded you for something she wanted more. More than you, your father, and your brother put together. She made a deal. It’s as simple as that.”
“What?” Nadia’s voice shook. “What could she have wanted that much?”
“I didn’t make the trade,” Elizabeth said. It was close enough to an answer. “But can you imagine what kind of power might have been on the table? What knowledge, what gifts your mother might have received in return? I’m not asking for anything so dear—though maybe your mother didn’t consider her family too dear, not if she made the trade so readily. No, you don’t have to abandon anyone. All you have to do is see reason. Come and work with me. Learn from me. Together I think there’s nothing we couldn’t do.”
Nadia turned to Asa. “Is she lying about my mom?”
“No,” the demon said. “I can tell that much. Elizabeth has told you the truth.”
For another moment Nadia hesitated, and then she turned from Elizabeth and began walking away. Not running, not fleeing the scene . . . just walking.
“She’s in shock,” Asa murmured.
“It will wear off. And then perhaps she will see sense.” Elizabeth realized she was weaving slightly on her feet—the infection Asa spoke of, the one burning its way into her arm. The fever affected her still. “Help me inside.”
He took her arm, his unearthly warmth almost comforting to her. November was indeed turning cold; she must see about that coat. As he walked her back into the house, Asa said, “You realize Nadia won’t take your word for it. She’ll investigate.”
“Her mother doesn’t speak to her. She can’t leave town. There’s only so much investigation Nadia can do.” Elizabeth smiled. The One Beneath would be proud of her, glad His work was being carried out. “In the end, if she wants answers, there’s only one person for her to turn to. Me.”
Nadia felt as though she couldn’t see, couldn’t even breathe. And yet she made it back home and through the front door again.
At least there was no one she had to put on a smile for; not even for Cole’s sake could she have done that now. But Cole was asleep in her father’s lap. Dad must have nodded off while letting his little boy watch cartoons after a long, sleepless night. For a moment, Nadia stood there looking at them—Cole in his Batman pajamas, his cheeks still round with baby fat, and her father with stubble on his cheeks and weary circles under his eyes even in sleep.
She traded them. Mom traded them away like they were nothing. Like we were nothing.
Nadia wasn’t going to be treated like nothing any longer.
19
DESPITE HER MISERY, DESPITE THE NEARBY CDC WORKERS taking blood samples as she, Mateo, and Verlaine waited their turn, Nadia almost had to smile as she saw Verlaine gaping in shock. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Wait the what the how the?”
Nadia repeated, “Elizabeth told me that my mother didn’t just leave. Apparently she traded our family away for some kind of magical power; I don’t know what. But I have to find out.”
“Traded you?” Mateo held up his hands like he was trying to stop that information in its tracks; Nadia knew how that felt. “You mean she gave you away to get power of her own?”
Nadia nodded. “Gave up her kids, gave up her husband. All this time I thought Elizabeth was the only dark witch I ever knew, but now I’m wondering. Because who does that? What kind of person does that?”
Her voice broke, and Mateo took her hand in his. That simple touch did her in. Tears sprang to her eyes, and it took her a moment to get her composure.
“You okay?” Mateo said.
“No.” Nadia tried to laugh, but it came out strange.
Verlaine finally found her voice. “I don’t get it. You said she traded you guys.”
“Right. I don’t know what for.”
“Yeah, I understand that but, Nadia—who did your mother trade you to?” Verlaine glanced around the crowded gymnasium, making absolutely sure nobody was paying any attention; they weren’t. Everyone was too tired and freaked out to notice what was happening right in front of their noses. Verlaine continued, “That’s what a trade is, isn’t it? An exchange. If she gave you guys up for something else, did she maybe swear you over to someone else?”
“That couldn’t be true.” The response was automatic, and as soon as it was out of Nadia’s mouth, she began to doubt it. Was this situation somehow even worse than she’d thought?
Counting off on her fingers, Verlaine said, “You meant to stop Elizabeth on Halloween. Not only did you not stop her, you inadvertently wound up helping her. You’ve tried to kill her twice now. Most people wouldn’t look at their attempted murderer and say, ‘Hey, that’s exactly who I want on my team.’ Elizabeth’s still trying to recruit you. She knows something you don’t. Do you think—maybe—your mom traded you to, well . . .”
Verlaine pointed down at the floor. Nadia and Mateo both stared.
“By that I mean hell,” Verlaine said. “In case it wasn’t obvious.”
“It was.” Nadia’s head had begun to spin. Maybe that was sleepless nights and stress messing with her, but she didn’t think so. “I didn’t even think that was possible.”
“We don’t know that it is.” Mateo shot Verlaine a dirty look; she responded by shrugging, like, Just saying. “Listen. Your mother can’t have traded you to the One Beneath. If she had, He’d already have you. Instead Elizabeth keeps trying to get you to join her. So you can’t belong to Him.”
She clutched at that fragile hope. “You really think so?”
“Yeah. I do.” Mateo’s hand tightened around hers, and Nadia managed a smile for him.
Verlaine just said, “Wait. How are you going to confront your mother? She’s nowhere near here.”
“I’m going to have to get out of town.”
Mateo gave her a look. “You noticed the quarantine around the town, right?”
“Okay, yeah, that makes it harder, but still—I have to do it,” Nadia insisted.
“I thought you didn’t even know where she was,” Verlaine said.
“I d
idn’t. But after Elizabeth said that—I kinda went through my dad’s stuff. Got an address. She’s still in Chicago, actually. Twenty minutes from where we used to live.”
“Which brings us back to where you’re trying to get out of a town under quarantine.” Mateo’s eyes shifted sideways, toward the nearest set of medics from the CDC; they’d worked their way to a table not far off.
“I’m a witch. I have ways around barricades.”
“Yeah, but after the barricades, you have to travel all the way to Providence, get on a plane, get a hotel room in Chicago, all of that. You’re going to need cash. Do you have a credit card?”
“Oh. Right.” Magic couldn’t solve every problem. “No credit cards—Dad won’t let me get one until college. I have a few hundred bucks in my checking account.”
“Won’t be enough,” Verlaine said. “I can swing you some, though, no worries.”
“Me too. Dad pays me the same as any other server.” Mateo took a deep breath, as though preparing himself for a needle stick or something else that would hurt. “Don’t worry. We can do it.”
It was too much. Nadia hadn’t realized how fragile her hold on her emotions was until that moment, when her throat choked up and her hands started to shake.
Verlaine leaned closer to her. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“I don’t deserve you guys.”
Mateo’s fingers closed around hers. His touch anchored her again, as though she could once more feel the ground beneath her.
Verlaine said, “Well, no kidding. We are pretty awesome.”
At least she could still laugh.
I shall never understand the madness of this world, Asa thought.
Captive’s Sound had been turned upside down by these strange people who wielded needles and microscopes, who would try to find a cure for Elizabeth’s dark magic. They would try and fail, and yet he admired the effort. In his day—distant though that was, and fragile as the memories had become over centuries of disuse—humanity was helpless before plagues and pandemics. Sickness swept across the land unchecked, mowing down lives the way a scythe mowed wheat. Now humanity had found the tools to fight back against disease and death.