Chapter 8

Carrow

Weak from magic use, I stared at the figure on the couch.

Beatrix.

It was her—there was no doubt. Same brilliant red hair, green eyes, pale skin. The same little scar through her brow that she'd got when we'd gone rock climbing in the Peak District, and she'd fallen.

Confusion flickered in her eyes, along with fear. She leapt off the couch, spinning around, her gaze frantic.

"Beatrix?" I rose slowly, my heart thundering a mile a minute. What the hell had happened? "Is it really you?"

"Um…" She looked down at her arms, brow creased in concern, then looked up at me. "It is."

"You're not…dead?" My skin chilled. I'd seen her body.

"I don't think so?" Confusion echoed in her voice. Her eyes flicked up to mine. "And you're truly here?"

"Yes." I threw my arms around her, thrilled when she felt solid and real.

My magic flared to life, trying to read her the way it always did. In my mind flashed images of the sky and trees from above. From her time as a bird?

She laughed and hugged me back. It felt so good to hug my friend again. It'd been over a year since she'd been murdered by the necromancer's henchman. I'd thought her gone forever.

She winced, pulling back. Pain twisted her features, and she reached up to rub her head.

Concern flared to life inside me. "Are you all right?"

"Um—" She swallowed hard, staggering slightly. "Some memories are coming back. Foggy, though."

"Come." I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the small table near the kitchen. "Sit and have some tea. Get your bearings."

She nodded and sat, looking around with confusion. "This isn't your normal place."

"It's long gone. We're not even really in London anymore."

"Not in London?" She jumped up from the chair and went to the window, staggering slightly. I raced after her, wanting to stop her, to force her to sit and recover, but I couldn't imagine how confused she was. If she wanted to see it for herself, I wouldn't stop her.

And hell, she'd survived death. She'd surely survive a little stumble in my living room. She pushed the window open further, and I realized she was wearing the same clothes she'd died in. The T-shirt had a slogan on the back from a bar we liked: "For a good time, go to Sal's."

Sal's had not been a particularly good time, but we'd both been broke and appreciated a free T-shirt.

She leaned out and looked around. "Holy crap. It's like we've gone back in time."

I joined her and looked out at the steeply peeked roofs, wooden beams, white plaster, and mullioned windows. "Yep. You don't remember it at all?"

She squinted, looking hard at the roofs and clouds. "I do, actually. But mostly from above. I was…a bird? Flying through this city?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"How is that possible?"

"So you didn't know that magic existed? That you would turn into a bird when you died?" Where the hell did I even start with the questions?

She shook her head. "Magic? As in pulling rabbits out of hats?"

"Not exactly." So Beatrix hadn't been a secret supernatural all along. Not that I'd really thought about it, but how had she turned into a bird? And why was she back?

I brought her back.

The thought flared in my mind. I'd been so excited about her return—about her survival—that I'd forgotten I'd used the book and my magic to bring her back.

I'd defied death.

Somehow.

I ran to the couch and picked up the book, flipping through the pages. It was undamaged, thank fates, but I still couldn't read the strange writing. I looked up at Beatrix, who had turned to face me.

"I think I could use that tea now, thanks." She gave a wan smile.

I snapped the book shut. "Coming right up."

My mind raced as I hurried to the kitchen and put the kettle on, then returned to the living room. Beatrix stood near the door, her eyes glued to Cordelia, who had just walked in.

"There's a wild animal in your house," Beatrix said.

Who's she calling wild?

"Calm down, Cordelia. She's new here." I glanced at Beatrix, who looked between the raccoon and me with wide eyes.

"Cordelia?" Beatrix asked.

"That's her name. She arrived at our block of flats shortly after your…death."

Death? Cordelia looked at me with interest.

I so did not have the time or ability to explain things to both of them. Especially since I barely understood what was going on.

"Cordelia, you can have any snack you want if you'll give us a few moments to talk." I looked at Beatrix. "And we're going to get to the bottom of this." I walked to her and gripped her hand. "But I am so happy you are here."

She smiled. "Me too. It's been…weird."

"You have no idea. Just give me a moment to get the tea." I released my grip and returned to the kitchen.

Cordelia trundled after me, climbing into the snack cupboard to find something to her fancy. From inside the cupboard, she asked, Is that Beatrix?

"Yes. How did you know?"

You talked about her a little with Grey while I eavesdropped.

"Admitting to it so freely?"

She climbed out of the cupboard, a bag of biscuits in her hand, and shrugged. Also, I think her disappearance was when I knew to come to your house.

"You think that spurred it on?"

Something had to. Things were changing. Fate was moving the wheel. I could feel it, so I followed it.

"Is that a familiar thing?"

She shrugged. Maybe.

With any luck, Beatrix might regain some memories of her time as a raven and have some answers. Because that was some serious magical business. Hopefully, she'd know something.

I finished making the tea—with way too much milk and sugar, just the way Beatrix liked it—and took the mugs to the small table.

She sat, staring at the wood grain, her gaze somewhat vacant. When I appeared in her peripheral vision, she jerked and looked up at me, her eyes clearing.

"Remembering more stuff?" I set the mug on the table.

She nodded. "I spent a lot of time in the air and following a woman around. She had"—she waved her hand around her head—"ever-changing colorful hair."

"Eve."

"That's her name?" She nodded thoughtfully. "That fits. Like Adam and Eve from the garden."

"Not quite." Did I explain now that Eve was Fae?

"Okay, sure. But, I mean, she reminded me of life. And nature. There was, like, a light that glowed around her—an energy that made me feel good. Comforted. Like it kept me from being pulled into the darkness."

"Do you think the darkness was…death?"

"Maybe." She sipped her tea, thinking. "I honestly have no idea, but it felt like she was helping to keep me near you. I could feel you, and that's where I wanted to be. What's going on?"

"Well…" I didn't actually have an answer to that, but I could start at the beginning. "You know my weird ability to see things?"

"Yeah."

"It's magic. Not rabbit-in-the-hat magic, but real magic." As quickly as I could, I filled her in on everything that had happened after her death: me, my magic, coming to Guild City, meeting Mac and the rest of the gang. Grey.

Occasionally, she looked over at Cordelia, who had finished off her biscuits and sat clutching the empty bag.

Finally, I finished my tale, or as much of it as I thought was relevant.

"Holy crap." Beatrix looked down at her now cold tea. "You're serious?"

"Totally."

She drew in a deep breath. "That's amazing."

"Wait until you see the city."

"I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."

"You will. I'm sure."

She nodded. "I hope so. I guess it all makes a weird kind of sense. I wasn't fully myself. I just knew that the woman—Eve—felt good to be around. Then, when you arrived, it was like I'd been waiting for you. Time passed, and you became more and more familiar to me, like my memory was returning."

"And that's why you turned up the other morning and took me to the Shadow Guild tower and showed me where the book was."

"Yes!" Her eyes flashed with the excitement of memory. "That day, it was like all the pieces were falling into place. I knew you would save me, and that the answers were there."

"Was it my magic that would save you?"

"It had to be, right? This whole place runs on magic, from what it sounds like."

"That's true." And I had been coming into my power more and more.

"I could feel your power growing," she said. "It made you more familiar to me. Like I was tied to you. Like I'd been tied to you since the moment I died, but I didn't remember until you gained more of your magic."

"And Eve?"

"She helped, somehow. Her power kept me on this plane until you showed up."

I leaned back in the chair. "I truly have no explanation for this."

Beatrix shrugged. "Well, I think you saved me."

I laughed weakly. I wanted that to be true. Not only because I didn't want her to disappear again, but because maybe that was my secret power. Maybe I could save people from death.

Maybe I could save Grey from death.

A knock sounded on my door—two fast, one slow, distinctly Mac—and then it pushed open. She stood in the doorway, staring at Beatrix and me.

"Why is Eve's raven suddenly a person?" she asked.

"You can tell?" I said.

"Don't you feel it?" Mac pointed to Beatrix. "Her signature is just like the raven's."

I hadn't noticed, actually. I'd been so shocked over her arrival. But she was right. The air around her felt like a howling wind, thin in my lungs. It'd been such a faint signature when associated with the raven that I hadn't consciously noticed it. but I did now. It was extremely faint, but definitely there.

"I'm not a bird," Beatrix said.

"Nope, you're definitely not." Max strode over and held out her hand. "I'm Macbeth O'Connell."

"That's quite a name." Beatrix grinned and held out her hand. "I'm Beatrix."

"Beatrix?" Mac's brows rose and she turned to me. "The Beatrix? Beatrix of the books?"

"The very same," I said.

"You're not dead," Mac said.

"Apparently not." Beatrix looked at me. "You still have my books?"

"Only thing I have from our old life."

Beatrix scowled. "I guess all my stuff is gone, huh?"

"Long gone."

"Damn."

"What's the deal?" Mac said.

"I might have brought her back from the dead somehow."

Mac's brows rose. "Really? Do you think it was the necromancer magic you absorbed from the crystal?"

"What, now?" Beatrix asked.

I hadn't thought of that. "I don't know. I absorbed magic from the necromancer's crystal after Beatrix's death. But by then, she was already a raven."

"Good point. It must be a power you inherently have." Mac tapped her chin. "But what the hell sort of power is it?"

"I don't know." I raised the book. "And I think there should be answers in here, but I can't read it."

Mac held out her hand, and I passed it over. She flipped open the book and studied it. "Hmm. Did Seraphia look in here?"

"No. She helped me unlock it, but by then, it was late, so I took it home to read."

"We need to take it back to her."

"Who is Seraphia?" Beatrix asked.

I realized I'd left her out—I'd probably left a lot out—and I quickly explained.

Mac leaned forward. "You know what? Why don't I hang out with Beatrix? Help her get adjusted to Guid City. Maybe figure out her magic. And that will give you time to get to the bottom of this book."

Beatrix nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. You have a lot at stake, don't you?"

"So much."

Beatrix gripped my hand. "That settles it, then. I'll hang out with my new friend here, and I'll be around if you need me." She hiked a thumb toward my couch. "That's my new bed, by the way. The raccoon is going to have to share."

I laughed. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. Because I'm pretty sure I'd be dead without you."

"Maybe. I don't know. I need to figure it out." I looked down at the book, wishing I could read it. There was so much I didn't know. If I'd really brought Beatrix back…how had I done it?

Exhaustion tugged at me. I'd been going nonstop since I'd found the book and gone to Transylvania. I needed a nap of the eight-hour variety.

Aching, I stood. "Let's get ready for bed. Tomorrow, we'll figure this out."

Between the two of us, Mac and I had enough extra bedding to make Beatrix a place on the sofa. Cordelia vacated it for the chair near the window, though she might eventually move into my room.

As I went to my bedroom, I turned to look back at my friend, already tucked into her couch bed.

Beatrix.

She was back.

How was I so lucky?

"Night," Beatrix said.

"Night." I waved, then went to my room. My mind raced as I settled down into bed, and it was impossible not to think of Grey.

Could I save him like I'd saved Beatrix?