I was crying for Jared, knowing they’d finished him off. Grief gave me power, though. I held the shears open and used them like a sword, slashing at the rapidly closing net of spell light. Nick slipped through like he was greased, then raged ever higher in the night sky.
Isabelle didn’t stir.
Jared was lost far, far behind us.
And the air was brilliant gold with the frenzy of ShadowEaters at their feast. I was tempted to lean my head on Nick’s powerful shoulder once we had escaped and cry my heart out.
I’d failed.
Miserably.
But I felt his anxiety and fear for Isabelle, and knew that showing my terror wouldn’t help him at all. It was my job as leader to give him hope and inspire him to go on.
I’d do my best and we’d fight right to the end.
Even if the chances of winning seemed more slim by the minute.
Jared was dead.
“Go to the school,” I said in old-speak. “Meagan and Jessica might be able to help Isabelle.”
“Good idea,” Nick agreed, then looked down at me. “What about you?”
“Just take care of Isabelle. I’ve got an idea.”
It wasn’t true, at least not yet, but Nick didn’t need to know it. I felt his heart skip with hope.
Then I closed my eyes, knowing exactly where I wanted to be.
Alone.
I SLAMMED INTO THE DRIVER’S seat of my car, panting and perspiring and trembling. I looked around with some trepidation, but the street outside the hostel looked just as it had earlier in the morning. There were a few pedestrians, one woman pushing a baby carriage, another walking a dog, and a couple of older kids with backpacks, maybe going to class at the college. The snow was still falling lightly.
It was astonishingly normal.
I took a deep breath and looked at the house, which also appeared to be the same. The driveway wasn’t shoveled and the paint on the porch was peeling.
Had I dreamed it all? Or had it really happened?
You know what I wanted the answer to be.
I took a deep breath and opened the car door. My heart was pounding, but I had to know for sure. I went down the driveway, noting the single tread from a motorcycle and a line of footprints. Were they mine? They matched my boots perfectly, which was not a good sign.
There was silence behind the house, no tinkling with motorcycle parts, and I pretty much knew what I’d see when I came around the last corner. There was a mark in the snow where a motorcycle had been parked. The sheet where Jared had spread out the gear parts was folded and jammed under the railing of the back porch, right where he’d left it. And there was a circle of melted snow where the bike’s exhaust had heated the ground.
No motorcycle.
No Jared.
Losing him hadn’t been a vision or a dream. It had happened.
I tipped back my head, fighting my tears, wishing I really was going crazy, because then Jared would be safe and I wouldn’t be the biggest failure of all time.
Insanity was the much better choice.
After a few moments, I pulled out my messenger. The in-box was loaded with messages, but I didn’t have the heart to sit and read through all the news. Kohana and Jared were dead. Nick and Isabelle were headed to the school, and Jessica and Meagan would be there. What about everyone else? How much of a team did we have left? I sent Garrett and Liam messages to come to the school, too.
Most important, how much power had the ShadowEaters gained in that ceremony?
I might as well find out the worst of it, live and in person.
I turned around and trudged back to the car, then drove to school, my heart dragging behind the exhaust pipe. I was sure things couldn’t get any worse, but, naturally, I was wrong.
ONE LOOK TOLD ME THAT the ShadowEaters had really scored.
The school could have been one of my dad’s pyrotechnics displays, but an interactive one. It was surrounded by a halo of brilliant yellow and gold Mage light, so bright that I could hardly look straight at it. The building seemed to radiate golden spell light, the binding spells weaving around and above it in such frantic patterns that the sight made me sick.
I’d probably made the school more of an attraction by having everyone gather here. But I needed them all together.
Still, I had major trepidation about going into the school. I parked the car and watched the spells dance for a minute, dreading whatever I would find inside. Never mind what would happen to me when I got in there. Maybe we were all doomed. Maybe the ShadowEaters had already won.
Maybe this was it.
Maybe I wasn’t going to go down easy.
I pulled out Skuld’s shears and tucked them inside my coat, wanting them closer than in my backpack.
Then I got out of the car, my mouth as dry as sandpaper.
The first ShadowEater appeared beside me when I’d gone only ten steps. Its eyes glowed with that luminescence. I turned to look at it, shocked that it would be so overt about stalking me in broad daylight.
It bared its teeth and snapped in my direction.
I pulled out Skuld’s shears and snapped back, chopping off its hand with one savage gesture. It howled and retreated.
Victory was fleeting. I watched in horror as spell light poured from its severed wrist. It swelled up like a cloud of animosity, a miasma of sizzling spell fury. The spell light inside the ShadowEater was spilling out of his skin, and as the orange cloud became bigger, his silhouette deflated like a balloon. In a heartbeat, there was a towering cloud of spell light before me, crackling like a bonfire, lit with interior sparks.
And a flat, dark skin on the ground, discarded.
It looked a lot like a shadow, actually.
The cloud swirled and joined the display surrounding the school. I knew it made the existing spells burn brighter and move with more agitation.
When I looked back at the ShadowEater’s skin, it was gone.
So I had eliminated a ShadowEater, but its energy had strengthened the spell surrounding the school. This couldn’t be a good revelation. I hid Skuld’s shears beneath my coat again and walked warily toward the school.
How could the ShadowEaters be dispersed and the spell light extinguished for good? It was a riddle, and I reminded myself that I was good at solving riddles.
Even when somewhat short of sleep.
TO MY RELIEF, THERE WAS a tendril of purple spell light slipping through the barrage of brilliant swirling gold. I knew that had to be coming from Meagan and followed it with purpose. There were lots of kids in the halls, so it must have been between classes. I looked at the time on my messenger, not sure what class I was missing.
I didn’t even have a chance to find Meagan.
Muriel stood by my locker, a sentinel with a sour expression. “You’re late,” she said, scanning me with disapproval.
“I, uh, had car trouble,” I lied. “It wouldn’t start.”
“You should have just walked.”
“I thought I could fix it but I was wrong.” I forced a smile. Muriel, she of the many merry smiles, did not smile back. “Sorry, Muriel. I should be in English class, right?”
“Art class,” Muriel corrected.
“Bonus!” I feigned enthusiasm.
She watched me with suspicion. “You never miss art class, Zoë,” she said quietly. “Would you like to tell me the real trouble?”
The real trouble. I was tempted to tell her, just to see her reaction.
I watched Trevor murder Suzanne this morning in order to convert himself to a ShadowEater, a being of spell light and malice. There wasn’t anything I could do about it since I was fighting binding spells myself at the time. The worst part is that the guy I’m crazy for let himself be killed by the ShadowEaters to give me a chance to escape, and I have no idea what the point of living is with him dead.
No. The truth had no place in this discussion.
I glanced up and down the hall, relieved to see Meagan closing in fast and Jessica r
ight beside her. Both looked freaked, but both were surrounded by a glistening blue halo of Meagan’s spell light. I sent Jessica a thought about Meagan defending Garrett, Liam, Nick, and Isabelle, who should arrive soon. She nodded once and bent to whisper to Meagan.
Meagan’s gaze was locked on me and her eyes were wide with horror. Best-friend radar never fails. She knew something really bad had happened, something bad enough to shake me to my marrow.
I couldn’t send the news about Jared through Jessica.
And then there was Muriel. “You should know, Zoë, that the police wish to talk to you.”
“The police?” I was genuinely shocked and Muriel knew it.
She beckoned with one finger and a police officer strode down the hall toward us. He was trying to look friendly and pretty much failed. He was older than Muriel, a bit stocky, and had the weary appearance of someone who had seen a lot of nasty things.
Maybe because his eyes were dancing with spell light.
Good. He was going to keep me busy while the ShadowEaters slurped up the last bits of Kohana and Jared. I appreciated their concern for my schedule.
I would fry them all—as soon as I figured out how.
I shot a look at Meagan and Jessica, but they were heading down the hall. Going to defend the others. At least something was going right.
“This is Detective Smith,” Muriel said. She preened a little, as if she thought he was hot, which was just about the most revolting idea I’d had all day. (Which is saying something.) “He wants to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay. Are you going to stay with us?”
Muriel flushed and smiled and gestured to the empty classroom adjacent to my lockers. Detective Smith got out his digital notepad, and the interrogation began.
He asked my name and address, my age and my grade, even though he must have known all of that already. I understood that these questions were supposed to help me relax.
They didn’t.
He asked about my car and my parents, then gave me an intent look.
That golden spell light dancing in his pupils gave me the serious willies, but I held his gaze. I knew he’d think I was lying if I looked away.
“Suzanne is missing. I believe you know her.”
“Everyone knows Suzanne.”
“Someone saw her get into your car last night, but no one has apparently seen her since.”
“Yeah, I gave her a ride.”
He scribbled with his stylus. “Why?”
I shrugged. “She asked for one. It was snowing and she said Trevor hadn’t picked her up like he was supposed to.”
“And what was her destination?”
“Trevor’s house.”
He flicked a look at me. “And that’s where you left her?”
“No. She wanted to be dropped off at the end of the block.” Detective Smith arched a brow, and I smiled apologetically. “She didn’t want to be seen in my car.”
His attention sharpened at that. “Why not?”
“It’s too old and beat-up to be cool.”
He flicked through his notes with a fingertip. “But doesn’t Suzanne have her own car?”
“Yeah. A new Interceptor convertible.”
“Then why did she need a ride from you?”
“Her car wasn’t here. Maybe because Trevor was supposed to give her a ride.”
He impaled me with a brilliant yellow glance. “Isn’t it true that you and Suzanne had a fight yesterday? Isn’t it true that she didn’t have her car because she was being punished by her parents for that fight?”
“I don’t know why she didn’t have a car.”
“But the fight?”
“Yes, we fought. Muriel saw it.”
“And what was the reason for that fight?”
“She took a picture of me in the bathroom. It was embarrassing and she was going to show it to everyone.”
“So you took her messenger?”
All of this was public knowledge. I saw no point in denying it. “I asked her to delete the picture. She refused. I took the messenger and deleted it myself, then gave the messenger back to her.”
“In fact, you removed the memory card and destroyed it.”
“That deleted the image forever.”
His nostrils flared. “Yet despite this, you gave her a ride.”
I shrugged. “We had settled it. What was done was done.”
“You weren’t afraid she might try to get even with you?”
I looked at him. I had had enough. “No,” I said, and there was a bit of dragon in my quiet tone. “I’m not afraid of Suzanne.”
Our gazes locked and held. The spell light in his eyes danced with greater intensity, becoming brighter as he tried to stare me down.
I wasn’t daunted.
Maybe there was more dragon in my expression than I’d realized, because Muriel became flustered.
She even forced a smile.
“And why were you in the parking lot alone last night in the first place?”
“Because I’d just gotten out of detention.” It was half of the truth, anyway.
The detective glanced up at Muriel.
She nodded, ever helpful.
“Why were you late today?” the detective asked. “Didn’t you have class this morning?”
“I did, but I had car trouble,” I lied. I held the detective’s gaze, and funnily enough, he ran out of questions then.
Muriel effectively ended the interview. She made encouraging noises about my being willing to start fresh with Suzanne.
The detective got fed up and excused himself.
But Muriel had a full head of steam. She spouted a lot of stuff about ensuring that I did what would make my parents proud, that I kept a positive attitude and kept my grades up. It was imperative that I not develop any habits that could imperil my academic record, and surely I knew that Muriel would be there for me whenever I wanted to talk more.
I nodded and even managed to conjure up a tear of heartfelt gratitude. Muriel gave me a hug, which astounded me, and promised to talk individually to my teachers about my attendance. Then she smiled at me and told me not to be late for my class right after lunch.
Lunch.
Right.
I was starving.
Meagan, the best friend in the whole world, was waiting by our lockers for me, protective blue spell light at the ready.
“SO?” MEAGAN DEMANDED AS SOON as Muriel was gone. “What did the police officer want?”
“Did you hear about Suzanne?” Jessica asked. “She’s missing.”
“No,” I said. “She’s dead.” I heaved a sigh. “So are Kohana and Jared.”
They were both shocked. “Trevor isn’t here today, either,” Meagan said.
“Because he’s become a ShadowEater,” I said grimly.
They both started to ask questions, their voices hushed, but I held up a hand. “I need food.”
We headed for the cafeteria, wading through the dizzying golden cloud of spell light. I could practically feel Jessica sweat, and reached out to take her hand.
Sadly, the daily special was some mystery meat loaf that would have looked disgusting even if I wasn’t vegetarian. I went straight for dessert and got myself a chocolate sundae with fudge sauce.
It might, after all, be my last meal.
We took a table in the corner and huddled over our lunches.
“Where are the guys?” I asked. “I sent them here.”
“I sent them to Isabelle’s place with Nick,” Meagan said. “They wanted to stay, but I could see how the spell light was getting to them.”
“Safer for them to not be enchanted if we have to fight for our lives,” Jessica said.
I tugged out my messenger and pinged Liam and Garrett and Nick. They were all freaked, but they were together and with Isabelle.
Who was still comatose.
Like King and Mozart.
At least the guys were together.
“You can see the spell light,
right?” Meagan said. “Is it really bad?”
“It feels really bad,” Jessica said. “And watchful.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the light swirling in the cafeteria. I could see shapes within the cloud of light and knew that there were ShadowEaters among us, choosing their prey. Meagan’s light was protecting us, but I wondered how many other kids would lose their shadows before nightfall.
Never mind after that.
“They’re everywhere,” Derek said quietly. He’d slid into the seat on my other side when I’d been looking the other way. I jumped, like I always did, then I hugged him in my relief.
“I was afraid.…”
He hugged me back after a moment’s hesitation, as awkward as I’d expect. “We had to convene,” he said gruffly. “Vote.”
I pulled back to look at him, fearing what he would say.
He held my gaze, his own expression wary. “They’re with you,” he said, then dug into his meat loaf special.
I couldn’t help but notice that he said they instead of we. I supposed I had that coming.
As we ate, I recounted the whole sorry story of my morning, including what had happened when I took out the ShadowEater in the parking lot. Meagan hummed quietly, buttressing the protective spell that surrounded us.
“What else happened here?” I asked, eating my sundae before it completely melted.
“Suzanne’s friends are missing,” Jessica said, nodding at Meagan to keep humming.
Meagan beckoned to me, indicating that she wanted the notebook I always carry. I use it to sketch dragons, but Meagan turned to an empty page. She wrote quickly, without stopping her spellsinging, and Jessica read what she wrote to us.
“Meagan used that note you heard this morning as the beginning of a harmonic sequence. She says it could be the tenor part in a harmony.” Jessica looked up, her eyes bright. “It’s in a minor key.”
“Which we know that Mages like.” I nodded, feeling as if Meagan was supplying the clue we needed. Jessica frowned as Meagan drew a musical staff and sketched in the notes, her gaze dancing over Meagan’s rapidly drawn notes.
“So this would be the first note,” Jessica said, singing the note I’d heard from Kohana this morning in a single clear Ah! “The soprano part to go with it is this.” She sang another, higher note, then did the same with the bass and the alto parts.