Chapter 9

NINE

Willow

A subtle buzzing tickles my throat. The pacemaker-like device implanted below my collarbone sends a tiny electric current up one of the nerves in my neck. It's supposed to increase the blood flow to my brain. And boost my whisper's power.

I refused the WCU—Whisper Control Unit—for two days. But no matter how hard I tried or how angry my whisper got, we still couldn't turn the pages of that damn book.

She also started waking me up at night again. With how much a session at the cathedral takes out of me, it just made sense to stay in AURA's luxury apartment. I pass out almost every time, only waking up once I'm back in the unfamiliar bed with Hannah watching over me.

I run my fingers over the slight swelling under my collarbone. An inch-long incision. Four butterfly bandages. The procedure only took an hour, and while the wound is tender, it's not terribly painful.

With one type of current, the WCU can send my whisper away, and with another, it can give her a kick-ass power boost. Since AURA's magic dampener seems to have failed—my whisper has been waking me up multiple times a night since our first session at the cathedral—I let Hannah send her away before I went to sleep last night. I haven't seen her since.

I think she's angry with me. I suppose I'd be mad too if someone zapped me into oblivion. Hannah swore it wouldn't hurt her, but I won't feel steady until I see her again. Despite turning my life completely upside down, she's not evil. She doesn't want to hurt me.

We follow Isaac through the rectory door. As always, it's quiet this time of night. The church is locked up, the votive candles have all burned down to nothing, and only the frescos are still lit. I shiver whenever I see them. It's like they're warning me away from the antechamber below. Or perhaps I'm just afraid that I'll fail—again.

Nausea crawls up my throat. Being here tonight feels wrong. I'd give anything for one of my strawberry candies right now. Or even my crossbody bag. Something to hold onto. Something normal .

The closer we get to the antechamber, the more my hands shake.

"Hurry up," Isaac says and pulls the drape aside. He's been tense all day, snapping at some of the techs in the lab and looking over Hannah's shoulder as she calibrated the WCU.

Tonight, he aims both floodlights at the vault door. I'm drawn to it again, though unlike the last few days, I can still breathe when I press my hands to the ancient metal.

A cough catches in my throat. The incision site throbs, and my eyes water. But when I wipe away the tears, my whisper is standing right next to me.

"She's here."

Hannah checks the WCU's screen. "You're at Level Two. Can you touch her?"

I reach for my whisper's hand, but my fingers find only air. "No. She's still…a ghost."

Her glare chills me to the bone.

"Sorry. Still…not corporeal. Is that better?" I ask.

She nods, almost…smiling at me.

The tickle in my throat gets stronger, and I cough again. Is this normal?

None of this is normal. You're talking to a gho—non-corporeal being—in an old cathedral, about to go back into a magically sealed vault to read a grimoire no one but you has seen in over a hundred years.

"We're going to Level Three," Hannah says.

My whisper swivels toward the vault door. She takes two quick steps forward, then seems to almost…bounce off the metal. Anger carries over the fragile bond between us, and she balls her hands into fists.

"Turn it off. She can't get in." I don't know how I know this. I shouldn't. Her feelings have never been this… clear to me before. Maybe Hannah was right and the WCU is exactly what I needed to connect with her.

The buzzing in my neck stops.

My whisper stands shoulder to shoulder with me, a gleam in her translucent eyes. I blink, and everything around me blurs. Forces buffet me from all sides. I'm dizzy, but right when I think I can't take another second of this, my whisper bursts into the vault.

The tongues of blue flame flare brighter. Hotter. Incense burns my nose. Or her nose, since I'm reasonably certain my body is still in the antechamber, pressed against the vault door.

Her fingers brush the cover, and I feel the leather. The deep grooves of the markings. But she can't open it.

We need more.

I try to focus on the WCU. On my corporeal body out there with Hannah and Isaac. Can I speak? Move of my own free will? Crap. Why didn't I think to ask Hannah what she saw every time I've been pulled into my whisper's reality?

Pain lances through us, a razor's edge cutting us open and flooding the small space with pure, white light until every shadow is banished to the depths of some far away Underworld we can't see or touch.

In the next moment, our reality contracts down to a pinprick. Darkness holds sway for so long, I start to panic. We're trapped in here. I'm trapped in here. What if I can't return to my body? What if my whisper never escapes? What if?—

A blink, and the vault is again what it was. Lit by ever-burning blue flames, filled with perfumed air. But now, a chill bursts over my skin. I can feel everything. Under my feet, the stones are uneven. I run my hands over the book's cover. The marks stop moving, and I gasp.

Power lies within.

The words weren't there a second ago. They weren't words at all.

My whisper ignores the fear twisting my stomach into knots and curls her fingers around the edge of the cover.

The first yellowed page is blank. My heart sinks. There has to be more. Right?

As if the magic infused within the spell book can hear me, ink wells up, soaking into the parchment until the image of an ornate blade with a carved handle is so clear, it looks like it was drawn only yesterday.

The Blade of Liminal Transference

I snort—silently. "We are so renaming this thing."

My whisper shakes her head. I want to ask her why she cares. Or how she knows anything about the book and the Blade. She's three weeks old for Pete's sake.

Turning another page, she waits. I think she might even hold her breath. Or…whatever passes for breath when you're a whisper ghost.

Only the purest of heart can see these words.

Love and hate. Light and darkness. Life and death.

The circle begins where the circle ends.

Proceed, and you will be forever transformed.

May the power not stain your soul.

My whisper clutches her throat. I can't breathe. The air is sucked out of the room in a great whoosh . Instead of incense and spice, the harsh tang of blood hits the back of my throat.

A scream fills my ears. Mine, I think. Or hers.

I'm flying back. Violently ripped from my whisper and tossed around like I'm about to find myself trapped under a house in Oz.

My body slams into something hard and cold. Every muscle seizes. The pain is like nothing I've ever felt before. It's pulling me under. Somewhere I fear I'll never come back from.

Like every other night, I wake back in the apartment over AURA's lab. Hannah sits in a chair next to the bed, her tablet in her hand.

"I failed. Again," I manage, too weak to sit up. The first tear trails over the bridge of my nose. I can't even wipe it away.

"Willow! You didn't." Hannah's voice holds a mixture of pride and awe. "We could see the magic in you tonight. You were…almost glowing. Tell me everything you saw while you were inside."

Despite my exhaustion, I recount every second. How my whisper instinctively knew what to do. How the ink appeared on the pages. Even how it smelled . By the time I'm done, my voice is almost gone.

"You did so well, Willow. Better than we ever could have hoped for." She pats my arm, and pride raises a lump in my throat. "We'll try again tomorrow. Tweak some of the settings on the WCU. I think we need to modulate the power. Give you enough to turn the page, but not so much we overwhelm you and your whisper. Now get some rest. You need your strength."

The outer door shuts with a quiet click a minute later. Before I can close my eyes, my whisper appears next to the bed. Tears glisten on her gauzy cheeks. She reaches for me, but her fingers find nothing but air.

"I'm okay," I mumble, my words slurring. My lids are suddenly too heavy to hold open. "Promise."

The last thing I see as sleep takes me is another tear running down her cheek.