Chapter 27

"Please tell me you're joking."

This could not be what was happening in my life. Remy did not love me. He didn't. And yet, I'd seen the flash of surprise and pain when I'd said that I had loved him a little. That we could have been something special.

Was it possible that he'd loved me a little too? Maybe I'd reminded him of Bramble, and even in his lost memories he'd reached for that familiarity. Or maybe he was just a total dick—that was a possibility too.

Bramble put her hand over mine as I slumped into the chair across from her. "I wish I were joking. That's why I ran from him, why I hid my daughter from him." She smiled and squeezed my hand. "He does have great taste in women, I'll give him that."

I choked on a laugh. "Yeah. I guess that's true."

"I would make him forget you too, but the demon caught on to me. I can't touch his mind any longer, and the spell I cast on him…it is unravelling. It's why I must be so careful." Bramble tapped her fingers in a steady beat on the table. "We have to get you out of here, Bree. That's the first step."

A part of me wanted to leap up and take her hand, beg her to lead me out of here.

I looked to Phillipa. "The old ghost knows the full spell? Are you sure?"

Bramble gasped. "What?"

I ignored her. Phillipa nodded. "He does. He can tell you everything about it. He can help you stop Evangeline."

"What old ghost?" Bramble's question drew my eyes back to her. "Who are you talking to?"

"There is a ghost, still in the castle?—"

She shook her head. "No, she had them all cast out."

"Well, they missed one. Alan spoke with him." I frowned. "And Evangeline is afraid of him."

I buried my hands into my lap, lacing my fingers together. Everything was still foggy, but the pieces of my path that I could see all led me back to the castle. To run away now meant that I might not ever be able to get back here.

If what Phillipa was saying was all true, then Richart could—if pushed—be forced to destroy Vesuvius. Whatever knowledge he had would be lost.

"The spell. That is the center of all of this. I don't know spell work, Bramble, not like a proper witch, I never practiced." I gathered my thoughts. "But if the spell is being interpreted incorrectly, what could happen? What sort of things might come about?"

Bramble's throat bobbed. She took her time in answering. "You know the rules of three within spell casting?"

I winced. "A little. I only remember bits and pieces."

"That's my fault. When I took away your memories of me, much of what you'd learned was pulled with it, which was unexpected." She tapped the table. "When a spell of this size and complexity is cast incorrectly, whether deliberately or not, it causes repercussions. Particularly around intent."

"Then how do little witches learn?" Alan asked. "Surely they make mistakes, and multiple times I'd imagine."

It was a good question, and I asked it for him.

Bramble nodded. "We start with small spells, things of a simple nature. How to light a fire. How to lift a book off a table. If they're done incorrectly, there's not a huge backlash—you might get knocked off your feet, or burn off your eyebrows…things like that. But there is always a repercussion. It's why witches must train so hard to cast spells perfectly. It's why we look to each other for help. The more difficult the spell is, the bigger the potential backlash. We all know what happened the first time this spell was cast. And it was cast incorrectly."

I nodded then froze. "Wait. Was there more than once that it was cast?"

The grim look on her face confirmed it. "Yes. It was cast a second time. Also with an intent that…did not match the original spell."

I'll admit, my jaw dropped a little, I spluttered and even sprayed her a bit with my spit. "Okay, so on a second pass, say we deliberately cast it incorrectly, what could happen? What did happen?"

Her lips tightened. "The second time caused nature itself to heave up in revolt…I was there." Her eyes went distant, and I saw her breath hitch. The pulse in her throat jumped and bobbed.

This was not good, I could feel it in my bones, right to my damn aching knee.

"You just thought of something, didn't you?" I leaned forward. "Bramble? Tell me."

When she finally responded, it was like she was speaking from a distance. "We know the spell was cast incorrectly twice. Twisting the intent to fit something that isn't what the spell was meant to be..." she mumbled under her breath, tapping her fingers in the air as if she were playing an unseen piano.

"What happens when a spell keeps being cast wrong?" I asked.

"It could be catastrophic, depending on the spell. A little spell to start a fire? Not much backlash. But a spell with the power of the ingredients of this one? There is enough power in them to literally tear holes in…" She trailed off and her face paled, her eyes widening. "Gods above. That's what they are trying to do. What Evangeline and Remy are trying to do!"

Her fear was contagious, and a tremble worked its way through me.

"What? What did you think of?"

She spoke so rapidly, she nearly tripped over her words. "The plague was the first casting using the ingredients, the words, and intent, but something didn't quite go as planned. It set the supernatural world back, and I don't think Evangeline understood what she was doing, not really. Then Robert tried to kill her. That wound took a long time to heal." She paused, then dove onward. "You and Alan left Savannah nearly twenty years ago. The same year…Gran and I knew that Ward, the Sentinel of New Orleans, had agreed to help with the spell. That's why we sent you away, because we knew the Dark Council was looking for sentinels to use for the spell. We never found Ward, though we hunted for him for years. He just disappeared that summer, but during that same time…that August…Bree, that August New Orleans was nearly wiped off the map."

My jaw dropped. "Not…Hurricane Katrina? Just because the spell was cast incorrectly, or like one ingredient was wrong? There was so much death, so much destruction."

All because a spell was wrong. All because of the Dark Council's thirst for power, for Evangeline's thirst for power.

Bramble gave a slow nod. "We were looking for vampires…we never…we never considered that the spell might have something to do with the hurricane, because why would someone deliberately cast a spell wrong? It would be insane. The person casting it would have been injured too."

"I just don't know. I've never heard of someone casting a spell incorrectly on purpose because…" she trailed off, looking out the door.

"Spit it out, Bramble."

"This…this is the third time, Bree. The third time the spell has been attempted. If done incorrectly again, I don't know how bad it could be. Perhaps the world itself will be destroyed. Perhaps the line between the living and the dead disappears. I don't know. There is no precedent for this, for a spell this size, and with this much power being cast wrong on purpose multiple times."

"Why would anyone go along with this?" I blurted. "It's insane!"

She shook her head. "Maybe they didn't know? The witch helping them might have been lied to. Or forced to help, the way they were going to force you to help."

Her eyes met mine, and I could almost see another piece of the puzzle, tugging at me. "What if it was never about vampires at all? What if the spell…what if Evangeline had always meant it to be done incorrectly, with a piece or two missing, or the wrong intent? If she is a demon, and this could tear down the walls between realms?—"

Alan grunted. "Then it could be what she has been moving toward, all this time. The vampires were just pawns in a game of chess. As was everyone."

I didn't like that he was thinking exactly what I was—that this went far deeper than vampires.

Phillipa gasped and her image wavered. "The pull to the boundary is strong. I must go. But…the demon. The one that my sister carries. It would want this, above all else, it would want the freedom to rule, to live free even of my sister's form, and if this spell could destroy the boundaries between realms, she would want that."

Her words floated to me as she disappeared.

I passed on what Phillipa and Alan had said to Bramble. My thoughts began racing, seeing what we had to do.

"If that's true, then there is only one choice, I mean, not even a choice. We must get to Vesuvius so we can learn how the spell was meant to be cast, before he is destroyed by Evangeline. Find out the truth about it. Because there are other dark nights, you've said that yourself, other times that the spell could be cast using me. Until I deal with this, me and my friends, we won't be safe. So we get to Vesuvius, and then…" I could see her forming an objection.

"Bree, that is too dangerous. If you go back, they will capture you," Bramble said quietly.

I reached across the table and took her hand. "Life is dangerous, Bramble. We can do this. I know we can. But the first thing we must do is break into the castle. Vesuvius is the only hope we've got right now."

"Just for the record," Alan snapped. "I think this is a terrible idea. You should do what your cousin there says and run for it."

I looked at him. "If I thought running would save my friends, Alan, I would. But I don't think I can run anymore. And not just because of my knees. This is what we've been building toward. What if Evangeline gets rid of Vesuvius? What then? I'm stuck holding all these ingredients, just waiting to be…killed, or turned into a cauldron or whatever."

He snorted. "You don't even know what the consequences are if you mess up."

I nodded. "I know that. Which is all the more reason to get back into that castle and find Vesuvius and get the truth."

And pray that I could figure this mess out before Evangeline and her demon found us.