Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

VALERIA

I squinted at the dark shape that had begun to consume the sun's rays. All over town, the Mundanes were gathering with their eclipse glasses and binoculars to view the celestial phenomenon, but outside my window, our woods were silent. Delfina's diary said the Meteoric Union had to take place within a circle of enchanted flames. The clearing was the only place in town Luke and Gwen could pull that off without being noticed. A battle would clash among those trees soon enough.

I dressed in the robe of the high priestess, its bright red fabric gathering like fire around me. Standing before my vanity mirror, I placed the gold crown on my head. Its gilded shine set off the color of my eyes, but today, I was more concerned with the power it symbolized.

Whatever happened today, Luke would not forget who I was: high priestess and rightful leader of our coven. If I died, I would die in this crown.

My hair fell straight around my shoulders. I hadn't thought to put on any makeup. My eyes were alive with the sunfire that pounded in my chest, my lips set resolutely. I'd examined myself in this mirror a thousand times, worrying over an emerging blemish or a stray hair. The reflection that gazed back at me today was different. I looked strong, ready for whatever danger awaited. It was a kind of beauty I'd never seen in myself before, and I liked it.

Suddenly, Mr. Nichols's taunting words rang in my ears. We figured you'd be too busy fixing your lipstick to notice what was really going on. I fished Reckless Red from my purse and brushed it over my parted lips. It shimmered, crimson and spiteful.

I smiled. I was ready now.

"Your mother and I are going with you," my father announced from the hallway.

He stood in the bedroom doorway, spinning his wedding ring, as he often did when he was nervous. One twist over, one twist under.

"Dad, you know you can't—" I began.

"It's the right thing to do," he said, his voice steady, decided.

"The hell it is!" I argued. "Without magic, you'll be defenseless."

"We can't let you face these traitors on your own. It's too much to ask of a bunch of kids."

There it was. My parents didn't think we could defeat Luke. They didn't think I could defeat him. When my dad looked at me, did he see the strong, capable person I'd just seen in the mirror? Or, to him, was I still the selfish child I used to be?

Today, the sun would fade like a waning moon. For better or worse, something new would follow. The girl I had been was waning, too, dissolving around me like shedding skin. I hoped whoever emerged would be stronger, but also kinder.

"Dad, you have to trust me?—"

As I spoke, my mom joined us, her steps creaking down the ancient hallway. I got the sense she had been standing just out of sight for some time, listening. My dad opened his mouth to lecture me on all the things I didn't know, all the things I wasn't ready for. But my mom spoke first.

"She can do this," my mother said. "Let her go."

"What?" I stared at her, putting a hand on the vanity table in case I toppled over. A vote of confidence from my mom was more disorienting than I'd ever imagined.

"Lili, you can't be serious," my dad said.

"I'm perfectly serious." My mom turned to me, her features softening. "I've always pushed you to be strong, Valeria. But I thought strong had to mean hard. Now I'm realizing there is strength in compassion too. You went to Luke's alone last night. You risked yourself for your coven without a second thought. That's what a leader should be." She lowered her gaze in what almost looked like embarrassment. "I don't know if I would have been brave enough myself."

Peace settled over the three of us. A resolution. I studied my parents—the new patches of gray in their hair, the worry lines growing deeper across their faces.

"I won't let you down," I told them. "And I'll get your magic back. Maybe not today, but I'll do it. I promise you."

"I know you will," my mom replied.

There was a smile at the corner of her eyes. Was that what pride looked like? I wasn't sure, but it felt like the sun on a chilly day.

By the time I reached my back door, my bag slung over my shoulder, Jayden and Max were waiting for me at the edge of the forest. With dismay, I saw there was no sign of Celeste.

Above us, blackness had already devoured a quarter of the sun. A chill tickled my skin, and I wondered if Celeste had the right idea after all. The air had grown cold and a harsh wind had picked up as if nature understood something sinister was about to begin.

Jayden was dressed for battle in a vintage army jacket, his fingernails painted the dull silver of gunmetal. The vial of elderflower elixir hung from a chain around his neck. Beside him, Max wore his letterman jacket and a look of distinct unease.

Jayden shot me his best attempt at a wry smile. "How'd your looking glass turn out, Alice?"

From my bag I withdrew an old gold-framed mirror about the size of a dinner plate. "See for yourself."

I'd enchanted the mirror the night before, binding it with the handkerchief that held Luke's blood and burying them both in the garden. When I dug them up this morning, the handkerchief was clean. A red tinge covered the mirror's surface as if the blood lay trapped behind its glass.

"Curiouser and curiouser," he remarked.

I replaced the mirror and withdrew two lengths of rope.

"We're all clear on the plan, right?" I said. "Once the circle of flames closes around Luke and Gwen, no magic but the malevolent kind can be done within it, so we need to act fast. When we face Luke, I'll aim the mirror. You two back me up. On my cue, we'll recite the spell. Please tell me you practiced the incantation I sent you?—"

"Valeria," Max cut in. "You're the strongest witch among us. You're the best chance we have. You shouldn't have your hands tied up holding a stupid mirror." Though his voice wavered, his jaw was set with determination. "Let me do it."

"No!" Jayden answered before I could.

"Whoever's holding that mirror will be Luke's biggest target," I told Max soberly.

I looked at Max, the boy who had hoped this could all be handled with a few well-chosen words. His arms were crossed, his shoulders sloped in a way that made him seem small, despite his broad frame.

"I'm not a fighter," he replied. "I never have been. I won't be any good against them. But this is something I can do. Let me do this for the coven—please."

As he spoke, it was clear how much the coven mattered to him, even after everything he'd believed about it had been shattered. Perhaps now that it was broken, it was more important than ever.

Despite Jayden's protests, we came to an uneasy agreement. Max would hold the mirror, and we would protect him at all costs.

"Then these are for me," Jayden said, taking the rope and looping it through his belt with shaky fingers.

As darkness closed in from above, I had the overwhelming sense that death awaited us. I just didn't know whose.

The sun was more than half-swallowed now. It was time to go.

The three of us seemed to draw a collective breath, holding it as we entered the woods. The army of bare trees shook in the wind as if readying themselves for battle. As we picked our way over roots and fallen branches, Jayden stepped closer to Max. I fell behind, trying to give them whatever privacy I could, but the cold wind carried their words to my ears.

"Max—" Jayden began.

"If you're trying to apologize just 'cause you think I'm gonna die today, don't bother," Max hissed. "It feels a little disingenuous, if you know what I mean."

"I was just going to say what a fine morning it is," Jayden replied, his voice as casual as he could make it. "You can decide whether or not you want my apology some other day. I know you're going to come out of this just fine."

"If you believe that, maybe you're stupider than I thought."

"Oh, I'm very stupid." Jayden put a tentative hand on Max's shoulder. "But I swore I'd never lose another good person if I could help it. And you…are the best person. So you have nothing to worry about."

Max glanced at him with what might have been a smile, but his gaze quickly returned to the dry brush under his feet. "Be careful out there today."

Jayden exhaled as if their conversation had been scarier than anything he was about to face. Above us, the last light was dying.

I made out the clearing ahead. Two dark figures were moving there. As we came to a stop, the eclipse reached totality.

Night didn't fall softly. It crashed around us, plunging us into darkness. In the sky, pale light ringed the black moon, which seemed to stare down like the pupil of some watchful eye. The stars emerged brighter and more plentiful than I'd ever seen them. Luke and Gwen stood before us, their figures barely visible in the darkness.

"Tenebris Ignis." The sound of Luke's voice made my skin crawl. My fingers curled into fists.

At his words, a half ring of tall black flames ignited behind them, its open mouth facing us. The fire raged atop the dead earth. The glow it cast was stark and colorless, more like the absence of darkness than the presence of light.

Standing before those unnatural flames, Luke and Gwen were formidable and more than a little frightening. Black lace clung to Gwen's pale skin like it was a part of her. Her hair was a dark curtain around her face. Her expression was flat, but as I looked closer, a deep well of emotion seemed hidden behind her eyes. Luke's handsome features had taken on a wild quality, his smile a little too wide, his eyes sparkling. He looked like he was about to enjoy himself immensely.

Luke had littered the ground with white flowers—night-scented orchids. The sickly odor of burning petals hit me, stirring the uneasiness in my stomach. At first, none of us spoke. A snapped twig would've sounded like a thunderclap. I let the sunfire gather in my palm, preparing to strike.

Finally, Luke broke the silence.

"You showed up to your own massacre, Val," he said. "Wow. You really can't turn down an opportunity to be the center of attention."

"Says the man who's literally standing in the center of a magic ring of fire," I replied.

He grinned at me, the curve of his lips turning his expression cruel. "It's called the killing circle. And you'll join me inside soon enough."

I felt fear grip me as I began to understand. No.

No. How could I have been so stupid?

His laughter was ugly. "You're getting it now. Of course, the Meteoric Union requires a sacrifice. It demands the death of a high priestess. That's you, lover. You could have prevented this whole thing if you had just stayed away. But instead, you had to swoop in and save the day like the hero in whatever pathetic fairy tale you've told yourself."

Tears stung my eyes. I thought of how Mr. Nichols had stopped short of killing me the night Petra died. How no one had followed me yesterday after I escaped on the trellis. They hadn't wanted me dead.

Until now.

My heart pounded. The flames that curled at my fingertips flared like they'd been struck with gasoline.

My gaze shifted to Gwen. She hadn't moved, but her eyes were on Luke, her face frozen in an expression of genuine shock. He hadn't told her I was the sacrifice, I realized. I watched as the revelation washed over her, unknowable thoughts churning in her mind, clouding her features.

Luke kept his gaze trained on me. "I have to admit, it's quite an apt way for you to die," he went on. "Brought down by your own self-importance."

"We'll see who's dead before the night's over." I shivered against the wind as I said the words. They felt like an omen. Something was wrong. This night was too important; Mr. Nichols wouldn't miss seeing his special prince become a king. So where was he?

"Baby, before the night's over, you're going to step into this circle and ask me to kill you," Luke told me. "You'll be begging for it."

I was about to respond when something shot toward him from the darkness. A rock struck him in the temple, leaving a small red gash where it made contact. I didn't have to look at Jayden to know he'd been the one to fly it,—his way of saying Enough talk, screw this guy.

Luke winced and put a hand to his head to touch the trickle of blood that had appeared there. Then everything happened at once.

"Get back!" he shouted to Gwen, pushing her behind him.

With a movement of his hand, the circle of fire closed around her, protecting her, trapping her. She watched us from over the flames, her eyes wide, her magic useless. He raged at us, the Shadow Spell charging from his fingertips.

Max grabbed the mirror from my bag. On cue, we began to chant, our words echoing through the trees.

"Malevolent man, face yourself and see your wrongs."

Luke seemed to understand immediately that the mirror was a weapon. He took aim at Max and launched the Shadow Spell just as I threw my sunfire. The two spells—one dark, one blazing—met between us in a shower of sparks and a cloud of smoke. I held my mother's image in my mind, letting it anchor me to my power. This time, I could see the pride on her face.

My blood seemed to be made of fire, burning with everything I held dear, everything I would protect. My spell overtook Luke's, gaining on him and striking him in the chest. He stumbled backward. He met his own eyes in the mirror. For a split second, his cocky grin wavered.

"Malevolent man," we repeated, "your dominion hath run out."

Luke charged the Shadow Spell again, its black tendrils slithering toward me. Suddenly, his arm caught in midair. A cry of pain escaped his lips as he struggled against the rope that had wrapped itself around his wrist.

On my right, Jayden's expression was like stone, his concentration tangible as he held the rope in his mind. Slowly, he forced Luke's arm behind his back.

Immediately, the spell rose in Luke's other hand, but Jayden had already sent the second rope soaring at him. Again, Luke's wrist caught. Jayden's breath came hard as he pushed against Luke's strength. I joined my will with Jayden's. Together we bound him, beads of sweat glistening at our temples, and still we kept up our chant.

"Malevolent man, face yourself… "

Max's fingers trembled but he held the mirror steady, pointing right at Luke's writhing form. Even tethered like this, Luke sneered at us.

"This is your plan? Some rope and a… magic mirror ?"

It sounded ridiculous when he said it. But as we chanted, a thin black plume began to rise from Luke's chest as if siphoned from the depths of his heart. The essence of Luke's malevolent magic. It was working.

Our coven wasn't complete, but we could still hurt him—still take some of the power he held dear. The dark shape wound its way toward the mirror and the smirk fell from Luke's face. He fought to free himself, thrashing against the ropes.

"Now!" he shouted.

At first, I thought he'd spoken to Gwen, but his gaze traveled past her into the dark forest beyond. A second later, the earth opened up beneath Jayden, just as it had for me the night Petra died. He fell backward into the dirt, roots winding around his legs, dragging him down. In a moment he was waist-deep, clawing at the ground around him. The ropes we controlled dropped uselessly to the ground. Our chant stopped abruptly. The slow plume that had extended from Luke's chest evaporated like ocean spray.

The only sound that followed was Jayden's gasping breaths. I saw the panic in Max's eyes, saw his fingers tighten around the mirror, his knuckles white.

Jayden struggled against the heavy dirt, but he didn't descend any further. Mr. Nichols was keeping him alive. Of course he'd been out there in the darkness all this time, ready to take us out at the first sign of trouble. I whirled around, trying to see him, but he was hidden somewhere in the trees, beneath the velvet blanket of the eclipse.

The Shadow Spell spread and curled from all ten of Luke's fingertips. I sent sunfire flying at him again, but this time, it wasn't enough. The hatred that fueled Luke's power was stronger than it had ever been. The darkness that covered the land had magic in it, the same magic that flowed through his veins. This was, after all, his day.

Luke's spell loomed closer, and as it did, I saw it wasn't reaching for me. Its target was the man holding the mirror.

It wrapped itself around Max's waist. He cried out as it coiled upward, but he held his grip on the mirror, tears sparkling in his eyes, knees shaking. In another moment, the darkness held Max around the throat. I knew what it felt like to be trapped in those coils. I knew the agony that shot through you like ice water in your veins.

But still he stood.

Desperately, I struck Luke across the eyes with a wave of flame, clawing at him with my power. Luke staggered back; the Shadow Spell evaporated around Max's neck. But a second later, a dead tree, tall as a house, came up from its roots and tumbled toward us, guided by Mr. Nichols's invisible hand. It landed in front of me with a devastating crunch of branches, knocking me off my feet. Stars danced behind my closed eyes.

"No!" Before I could see, I knew by Jayden's cry that Max was down.

I hauled myself to my feet, searching for him amidst the bare branches. Max lay in the dirt, eyes closed, his body pinned beneath the heavy trunk. A few feet away, the mirror lay in large, jagged pieces. It was beautiful in its ruin, the firelight dancing off its askew planes.

I took in the devastation around me. The broken mirror. Jayden half-buried, his face smeared with dirt and blood. Max, unconscious beneath tangled branches. I felt the gravity of defeat overtake me.

"You've lost, Valeria," Luke said, arrogance dripping from every syllable. There had to be another way. There had to be .

I extended my hand, summoning one more wave of sunfire.

"That won't help you now. Look at your coven. They're lying in their graves. I say the word, and my father buries one of them."

"No!" The wounded cry escaped my lips.

"You can save them," Luke went on. "Sacrifice yourself, and they live."

"You won't kill them," I bluffed. "You want to be high priest? You need a coven to lead."

"I think I can spare one," Luke replied. "I just have to decide which." He pointed a lazy finger at Jayden. "What about him? He's never been much of a follower. He could make trouble for us. Might be best to take him out now."

In an instant, the ground was closing in around Jayden, pulling him in deeper. He gasped for air and black earth poured into his mouth, choking him. Another second and he'd be gone, his light extinguished forever.

"Wait!" I cried.

Jayden's descent stopped immediately. He spat out dirt, his eyes defiant.

I took a breath. A strange peace seemed to settle over me. It was almost comforting in its finality. I'd spent so much of my life thinking of nothing but myself. In death, I would turn toward those I loved. In the end—and this was the end—I would keep them alive.

I took a step toward Luke. I could almost make out Gwen's face across the wall of flames that held her. I thought I saw tears glint in her eyes.

"Val! Don't!" Jayden called. But the earth was already releasing its grip on him as if Mr. Nichols was anticipating the trade.

The flames that surrounded Gwen parted. Luke took my arm, and together we walked into the circle. I felt the heat at my back as the fire closed around the three of us. Movement drew my gaze upward. Above us, blazing shapes streaked the black sky. A meteor shower.

The magic disappeared from my fingertips and my hands fell uselessly at my sides. I heard Jayden's shouts grow distant. The crown pressed cold on my temples. I supposed it would belong to Gwen after I was gone. Now I was close enough to see her clearly. Her figure seemed to glow against the blaze of black flames. Her expression held more misery than I'd ever seen, as if in the last few moments, she'd resigned herself to some devastating loss.

"Do it, you bastard," I snarled at Luke.

He smiled, his eyes on me like I was a glittering prize he'd finally won. "I told you you'd be begging for it."

He didn't hesitate. He flung the Shadow Spell at me and it took hold, wrapping me in cold torment. The now-familiar stench of death filled my nostrils.

I fell to my knees, but I made sure to hold my chin high. I would keep the damn crown on my head. I looked Luke in the eyes and let my disdain for him boil. I wanted him to remember me like this. I wanted him to know that, even as he killed me, I saw him as a small, pathetic thing.

My surroundings grew dimmer. Beyond this world lay that other one, the land where I'd seen Delfina Garcia in my dream. I hoped she would be waiting for me there. I didn't want to be alone. At last, tears spilled down my cheeks. It wouldn't be long now.

A grim smile was plastered across Luke's face. He was enjoying my last seconds, the power he held over me. His blue eyes gleamed, so focused on my suffering they saw nothing else. Beside him, movement flickered in the corner of my fading vision. Gwen was reaching for something beneath her skirt. Then?—

A flash of metal, a swift, silent movement. Luke didn't make a sound, but he tumbled forward.

The Shadow Spell dissolved around me, releasing its stranglehold. I crouched in the dirt, gasping for air. As the world shifted back into focus, Luke knelt before me, our coven's ceremonial dagger buried in his chest.

The reality of what Gwen had done washed over me. The birds don't care if you're pretty. I'd seen the confusion in Luke's eyes when he heard me call out to Gwen on the trellis; he hadn't questioned the meaning of those words. Why would he? He couldn't imagine a place where she and I existed without him, a time before either of us were his. But Gwen knew. She'd heard me loud and clear.

Last night, after I'd escaped from Luke's, I stopped to leave her one last gift in that secret place where only she knew to look. There, she had discovered not a butterfly wing or crow's feather but the dagger in its sheath, its blade sharpened to a deadly point. I didn't know how she'd managed to sneak away to the hollow, or whether she'd doubted what she had to do.

In the end, the result was the same. I was alive, and she was free.

Luke was like a macabre puppet, suspended in a position of shock and pain. His hands rose to the knife's wooden handle as if he didn't believe it was real. He clutched it and pulled it out, letting it tumble to his feet. Fresh blood soaked his shirt in an expanding circle.

I expected wrath. My body braced to fight off Luke's attack on me or Gwen. Instead, as the blood poured from his heart, the only emotion on his face was sorrow. His love had betrayed him. Somehow, after all he'd done, he hadn't expected that.

A sound escaped Gwen's lips. It wasn't a cry, and it wasn't joyful. It was the loss of air, as if she'd just been punched in the gut. After that, she didn't breathe for what seemed like a very long time.

Luke collapsed, landing faceup among the scattered flower petals. Gwen stood above him, as pale as I'd ever seen her. With what seemed like great effort, he reached for her. Even now, he reached for her.

For a moment, I saw the boy from the ghost town all those years ago. The boy who'd told me he was cursed to die alone.

As if by instinct, Gwen extended her hand toward him, but she stopped halfway, her white fingers hovering a foot from his. She shook her head, a slow left and right, as if deciding she would never reach for him again. Whatever she did from this day on, she would do without him.

Luke's uplifted arm fell to the dirt with a thud. His breaths slowed until they came no more. He lay silent, still as a doll, a beautiful thing now dirtied by earth and blood. His eyes were still open, gazing upward at the dark sky.

At last, Gwen fell to her knees as if her body had been waiting for this moment to release. A violent sob shook her. She leaned forward, her face brushing the earth, her shoulders heaving. The circle of fire died as Luke did, the flames growing weaker until a smoldering ring of ash encircled Gwen and me. With the fire's strange light gone, blackness surrounded us again.

Above us the meteors flashed along their trajectory. The world grew blurry, and I realized tears were filling my eyes too. I didn't notice the presence of a motionless figure standing among the trees beyond us. I didn't see the movement of the knife until it was too late.

From beyond the clearing, Alexis Nichols floated the dagger, wet with his son's blood. It moved silently, guided by rage, its shape barely visible in the starlight. With cold certainty, he raised it above Gwen's huddled body and plunged it into her back.