Except for the fact that it was almost midnight. I ran faster.
I love you, too. Hurry—
I looked at my cell. 11:25. I banged again on the door of Ravenwood and pushed frantically on the crescent moon above the lintel. Nothing happened. Larkin must have done something to seal off the threshold, not that I had any idea how.
“Ryan! Aunt Del! Gramma!” I had to find Ryan. Macon was hurt. Lena could be next. I couldn’t predict what Sarafine would do when Lena refused her. Link stumbled onto the doorstep behind me.
“Ryan’s not here.”
“Is Ryan a doctor? We gotta help my mom.”
“No. She’s—I’ll explain later.”
Link was pacing on the veranda. “Was any a that real?”
Think. I had to think. I was in this alone. Ravenwood was a virtual fortress tonight. No one could break in, at least no Mortal, and I couldn’t let Lena down.
I dialed the only person I could think of who would have no problem tangling with two Dark Casters and a Blood Incubus, in the middle of a supernatural hurricane. A person who was a sort of supernatural hurricane herself. Amma.
I listened to the phone ring on the other end. “No answer. Amma’s probably still with my dad.”
11:30. There was only one other person who could help me, and it was a long shot. I dialed the Gatlin County Library. “Marian’s not there either. She’d know what to do. What the hell? She never leaves that library, even after hours.”
Link was pacing frantically. “Nothin’s open. It’s a freakin’ holiday. It’s the Battle of Honey Hill, remember? Maybe we should just go down to the Safe Zone and look for the paramedics.”
I stared at him as if a bolt of lightning had just come out of his mouth and hit me in the head. “It’s a holiday. Nothing’s open,” I repeated back to him.
“Yeah. I just said that. So what do we do?” He looked miserable.
“Link, you’re a genius. You’re a freaking genius.”
“I know, man, but what does that have to with anything?”
“You got the Beater?” He nodded.
“We gotta get outta here.”
Link started the engine. It spluttered, but caught, like it always did. The Holy Rollers blasted out of the speakers, and for the record, this time they sucked. Ridley, she must seriously rock the whole Siren gig.
Link ripped down the gravel drive, and then looked over at me sideways. “Where are we goin’ again?”
“The library.”
“Thought you said it was closed.”
“The other library.” Link nodded like he understood, which he didn’t. But he went along with it anyway, just like old times. The Beater shredded down the gravel drive like it was Monday morning and we were late to first period. Only it wasn’t.
It was 11:40.
When we skidded to a stop in front of the Historical Society, Link didn’t even try to understand. I was out of the car before he could even turn off the Holy Rollers. He caught up with me as I rounded the corner into the darkness behind the second-oldest building in Gatlin. “This isn’t the library.”
“Right.”
“It’s the DAR.”
“Right.”
“Which you hate.”
“Right.”
“My mom comes here like, every day.”
“Right.”
“Dude. What are we doin’ here?”
I stepped up to the grating and pushed my hand through. It sliced through the metal, at least what looked like metal, leaving my arm looking like it was amputated at the wrist.
Link grabbed me. “Man, Ridley must’ve put somethin’ into my Mountain Dew. Because I swear, your arm, I just saw your arm—forget it, I’m hallucinatin’.”
I pulled my arm back out and wiggled my fingers in front of his face. “Seriously, man. After all the things you’ve seen tonight, now you think you’re hallucinating? Now?”
I checked my cell. 11:45.
“I don’t have time to explain, but it’s only going to get weirder from here on out. We’re going down to the library, but it’s not, like, a library. And you are going to be freaking, most of the time. So if you want to go wait in the car, that’s cool.” Link was trying to absorb what I was saying as quickly as I was saying it, which was rough.
“Are you in, or not?”
Link looked at the grating. Without saying another word, he stuck his hand through. It disappeared.
He was in.
I ducked through the doorway and started down the old stone stairs. “Come on. We gotta book.”
Link laughed nervously as he stumbled after me. “Get it? Book? Library?”
The torches lit themselves as we scrambled down into the darkness. I grabbed one out of its metal crescent holder and tossed it to Link. I grabbed another and jumped the last stairs to the crypt room. One by one, the wall torches ignited as we stepped into the center of the chamber. The columns emerged, along with their shadows, in the flickering light from the mounted torches. The words domus lunae libri reappeared in shadow on the entranceway, where I had last seen them.
“Aunt Marian! Are you here?” She tapped my shoulder from behind. I almost jumped out of my skin, bumping into Link.
Link screamed, dropping his torch. I stomped on the flames with my feet. “Jeez, Dr. Ashcroft. You about scared the pants offa me.”
“Sorry, Wesley—and Ethan, have you lost your mind? Do you have any recollection who this poor boy’s mother is?”
“Mrs. Lincoln’s unconscious. Lena’s in trouble. Macon’s been hurt. I need to get into Ravenwood, I can’t find Amma, and I can’t find a way inside. I need to go through the Tunnels.” I was a little boy again, and it all just came tumbling out. Talking to Marian was like talking to my mom, or at least like talking to someone who knew what it was like to talk to my mom.
“I can’t do anything. I can’t help you. One way or another, the Claiming comes at midnight. I can’t stop the clock. I can’t save Macon, or Wesley’s mother, or anyone. I can’t get involved.” She looked at Link. “And I am sorry about your mother, Wesley. I mean no disrespect.”
“Ma’am.” Link looked defeated.
I shook my head and handed Marian the nearest torch from the wall. “You don’t understand. I don’t want you to do anything, other than what the Caster librarian does.”
“What?”
I looked at her meaningfully. “I need to deliver a book to Ravenwood.” I bent down and reached into the nearest stack, and randomly pulled out a book, singeing the tips of my fingers. “The Complete Guide to Poisonous Herbiage and Verbiage.”
Marian was skeptical. “Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight. Right away. Macon asked me to bring it to him personally. Before midnight.”
“A Caster librarian is the only Mortal who knows where to access the Lunae Libri Tunnels.” Marian looked at me shrewdly and took the book from my hands. “Good thing I happen to be one.”
Link and I followed Marian through the twisting tunnels of the Lunae Libri. At one point I counted the oaken doors we passed through, but I stopped after we got to sixteen. The Tunnels were like a maze, and each one was different. There were low-ceilinged passageways where Link and I had to duck to walk through, and high-ceilinged hallways where there seemed to be no roof over our heads at all. It was literally another world. Some passages were rustic, adorned with nothing but their modest masonry, while others were more like the hallways in a castle or museum, with tapestries, framed antique maps, and oil paintings hanging from the walls. Under different circumstances, I would’ve stopped to read the tiny brass plaques under the portraits. Maybe they were famous Casters, who knew. The one thing the passageways had in common was the smell of earth and time, and the number of times Marian found herself fumbling for her lunae crescent key, the iron circle she wore at her waist.
After what seemed like forever, we arrived at the door. Our torches were nearly out, and I had to hold mine up so that I could read Rayvenwoode Manor carved into the
vertical planks. Marian twisted the crescent key through the final iron keyhole and the door swung open. Carved steps led up into the house and I could tell from the glimpse of ceiling above that we were on the main floor.
I turned to Marian. “Thanks, Aunt Marian.” I held out my hand for the book. “I’ll give this to Macon.”
“Not so fast. I’ve yet to see a library card issued in your name, EW.” She winked at me. “I’ll deliver this book myself.”
I looked at my cell. 11:45 again. That was impossible. “How can it be the same time that it was when we arrived at the Lunae Libri?”
“Lunar time. You kids never listen. Things aren’t always as they seem, down below.”
Link and Marian followed me up the stairs and into the front hall. Ravenwood was just as we had left it, down to the cake left out on plates, to the tea set, and the stack of unopened birthday presents.
“Aunt Del! Reece! Gramma! Hello? Where is everybody?” I called out, and they came out of the woodwork. Del was positioned by the stairs, holding a lamp over her head as if she was going to whack Marian over the head with it in another second. Gramma was standing in the doorway, shielding Ryan with her arm. Reece was hiding under the stairs, brandishing a cake knife.
They all started to talk at once. “Marian! Ethan! We were so worried. Lena has disappeared, and when we heard the bell from the Tunnels, we thought it was—”
“Have you seen Her? Is she out there?”
“Have you seen Lena? When Macon didn’t come back, we began to worry.”
“And Larkin. She didn’t hurt Larkin, did she?”
I looked at them in disbelief, taking the lamp out of Aunt Del’s hands, and handing it to Link. “A lamp? You really thought a lamp was gonna save you?”
Aunt Del shrugged. “Barclay went up to the attic to Shift some weapons out of curtain rods and old Solstice decorations. It’s all I could find.”
I knelt down in front of Ryan. There wasn’t much time, about fourteen minutes to be exact. “Ryan. Do you remember when I was hurt, and you helped me? I need you to come do that right now, over at Greenbrier. Uncle Macon fell down, and he and Boo are hurt.”
Ryan looked like she was going to cry. “Boo’s hurt, too?”
Link cleared his throat in the back of the room. “And my mom. I mean, I know she’s been a pain and everything, but could she—could she help my mom?”
“And Link’s mom.”
Gramma pushed Ryan back behind her, patting her on the cheek. She adjusted her sweater and smoothed her skirt. “Come, then. Del and I will go. Reece, stay here with your sister. Tell your father where we’ve gone.”
“Gramma, I need Ryan.”
“For tonight, I am Ryan, Ethan.” She picked up her bag.
“I’m not leaving here without Ryan.” I held my ground. There was too much at stake.
“We can’t take an Unclaimed child out there, not on the Sixteenth Moon. She could be killed.” Reece looked at me like I was an idiot. I was out of the Caster loop again.
Del took my arm reassuringly. “My mother is an Empath. She is very sensitive to the powers of others and she can borrow those powers for a time. Right now, she has borrowed Ryan’s. It won’t last for very long, but for now she is capable of anything Ryan can do. And Gramma was Claimed, obviously quite some time ago. So we’ll go with you.”
I looked at my cell. 11:49.
“What if we don’t make it in time?”
Marian smiled and held up the book. “I haven’t made a delivery to Greenbrier, well, ever. Del, do you think you could find the way?”
Aunt Del nodded, putting on her glasses. “Palimpsests can always find ancient lost doors. It’s just brand new ones we have a little trouble with.” She disappeared back down into the Tunnels, followed by Marian and Gramma. Link and I scrambled to keep up with them.
“For a bunch a old ladies,” Link panted, “they really know how to move.”
This time, the passageway was small and crumbling, with speckled black and green moss growing in sprays across the walls and ceiling. Probably the floors, too, but I couldn’t see them in the shadows. We were five bobbing torches in otherwise total darkness. Since Link and I were at the back of the pack, the smoke was wafting into my eyes, making them tear and sting.
As we got closer to Greenbrier, I could tell we were there by the smoke that started seeping down into the Tunnels, not from our torches, but from hidden openings leading to the world outside.
“This is it.” Aunt Del coughed, feeling her way around the edges of a rectangular cut in the stone walls. Marian scraped off the moss, revealing a door. The lunae key fit perfectly, as if it had opened just days ago, rather than hundreds of thousands of days ago. The door wasn’t oak, but stone. I couldn’t believe Aunt Del had the strength to push it open.
Aunt Del paused on the stairwell and motioned to me to pass. She knew we were nearly out of time. I ducked my head under the hanging moss and smelled the dank air as I made my way up the stone steps. I climbed out of the tunnel, but when I got to the top, I froze. I could see the crypt’s stone table, where The Book of Moons had lain for so many years.
And I knew it was the same table, because the Book was lying on it now.
The same book that was missing from my closet shelf this morning. I had no idea how it had gotten there, but there was no time to ask. I could hear the fire before I saw it.
Fire is loud, full of rage and chaos and destruction. And fire was all around me. The smoke in the air was so thick, I was choking on it. The heat was singeing the hair right off my arms. It was like a vision from the locket, or worse, like the last of my nightmares—the one where Lena was consumed by fire.
The feeling that I was losing her. It was happening.
Lena, where are you?
Help Uncle Macon.
Her voice was dimming. I waved the smoke away so I could see my cell.
11:53. Seven minutes to midnight. We were out of time.
Gramma grabbed my hand. “Don’t just stand there. We need Macon.”
Gramma and I ran, hand in hand, out into the fire. The long row of willows that framed the archway leading into the graveyard and the gardens was burning. The brush, the scrub oaks, the palmettos, the rosemary, the lemon trees—everything was on fire. I could hear the last few canisters in the distance. Honey Hill was wrapping up, and I knew the reenactors would be on to the fireworks soon, as if the fireworks in the Safe Zone could in any way compare to the fireworks going on out here. The whole garden as well as the clearing was burning, surrounding the crypt.
Gramma and I stumbled through the smoke until we neared the burning oaks, and I found Macon lying where we had left him. Gramma leaned over him and touched his cheek with her hand. “He’s weak, but he’ll be all right.” At the same moment, Boo Radley rolled over and jumped up onto all fours. He slunk over and lay down on his belly next to his master.
Macon struggled to turn his head toward Gramma. His voice was barely a whisper. “Where’s Lena?”
“Ethan’s going to find her. You rest. I’m going to help Mrs. Lincoln.”
Link was by his mom’s side and Gramma hustled in their direction without another word. I stood up, scanning the fires for Lena. I couldn’t see any of them, anywhere. Not Hunting, Larkin, Sarafine—anyone.
I’m up here. On top of the crypt. But I think I’m stuck.
Hold on, L. I’m coming.
I made my way back through the flames, trying to stick to the pathways I remembered from being in Greenbrier with Lena. The closer I got to the crypt, the hotter the flames were. My skin felt like it was peeling off, but I knew it was actually burning.
I climbed on top of an unmarked gravestone, found a foothold in the crumbling stone wall, and pulled myself up as far as I could. On top of the crypt was a statue, some kind of angel, with part of her body broken off. I grabbed onto its—I don’t know what, it felt something like an ankle—and pulled myself over the edge.
Hurry, Ethan! I need yo
u.
That’s when I found myself face to face with Sarafine.
Who plunged a knife into my stomach.
A real knife, into my real stomach.
The end of the dream we had never been allowed to see. Only this part wasn’t a dream. I know, because it was my stomach, and I felt every inch of the blade.
Surprised, Ethan? You think Lena’s the only Caster on this channel?
Sarafine’s voice began to fade.
Let her try to stay Light now.
As I drifted away, all I could think was if you stuck me in a Confederate uniform, I’d be Ethan Carter Wate. Even down to the same stomach wound, with the same locket in my pocket. Even if all I had ever deserted was the Jackson High basketball team, rather than Lee’s army.
Dreaming about a Caster girl I would always love. Just like the other Ethan.
Ethan! No!
No! No! No!
One minute I was screaming, the next, the sound was stuck in my throat.
I remember Ethan falling. I remember my mother smiling. The glint of the knife, and the blood.
Ethan’s blood.
This couldn’t be happening.
Nothing moved, nothing. Everything was frozen perfectly in place, like a scene in a wax museum. The billows of smoke remained billows. They were fluffy and gray, but they went nowhere, neither up nor down. They just hung in the air as if they were made of cardboard, part of a backdrop in a play. The tongues of flame were still transparent, still hot, but they consumed nothing and made no sound. Even the air didn’t move. Everything was exactly as it had been a second before.
Gramma was hunched over Mrs. Lincoln, about to touch her cheek, her hand hanging in the air. Link was holding his mother’s hand, kneeling in the mud like a scared little boy. Aunt Del and Marian were crouched on the lower steps of the crypt passageway, shielding their faces from the smoke.
Uncle Macon lay on the ground, Boo crouching next to him. Hunting was leaning against a tree a few feet away, admiring his handiwork. Larkin’s leather coat was on fire and he was facing the wrong direction, halfway down the road toward Ravenwood. Predictably running from, rather than toward, the action.