“They deactivated that magic ages ago.”
“That’s what they told the harpies,” she quips.
“Exactly,” I say. I glance down at her, enjoying the tinge of pink on her cheeks.
Up ahead, I can just see the glimpse of black stone through the trees. It feels like we’ve been walking toward this destination for hours, days, weeks. Yet now that we’re here, it feels entirely too soon.
Secora’s steps falter. She stops and squeezes my hand hard enough she might break a bone.
“Secora?”
“You don’t have to do this,” she says. She looks up at me and swallows. “Those memories were yours, Elliot. I’d kept them because I thought it was best for you. I never should have bartered them. It wasn’t fair.”
“This was never just about the memories,” I say.
“We can go back down,” she presses. “I’ll tell Sebastian it was a dead end. I’ll pretend I never heard about the Cursed Grounds or this missing ingredient. You don’t owe me anything, Elliot.”
“I know,” I say. When her eyes widen, I smile. I keep one hand around hers, but I use the other to cup her face, trailing my thumb along her lower lip. “My mama’s punishment has gone on long enough. She has her reasons for despising the vampires, but I have mine for admiring them.”
“Is it that right?” she asks skeptically. “That’s news to me.”
“They welcomed you, Secora.” I let my words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “After the witches failed you for too long, it was the vampires who gave you a chance. For that, I willalwaysadmire them.”
“Elliot,” she whispers, eyes filling with tears. “If anyone discovers what you’ve done—and they probably will—your life will be ruined. Do you understand that?”
“Secora,” I say. I press firmly against her lip, curling until my thumb meets her teeth. “You’ve spent enough time worrying about me.”
Her eyes flutter shut and her breath falls into a steady rhythm.
“Have mercy on me,” I whisper. “Let me take care of you, just this once.”
When she opens her eyes, something has shifted. I don’t know how to describe it, exactly, but it feels a bit like trust, and a lot like love.
“Okay, Elliot,” she says. “Okay.”
The Cursed Groundsare as bleak as the one other time I was here. Mama showed it to me shortly after she becameMadam Lyrie. Looking back, I realize she was trying to sway my future, to pull me into her shadow without forcing me there. She showed me all the exciting and fascinating secrets of the council. The location of the Cursed Grounds. The intricacies of the neutral territory spell. The many,manyways in which we held more power than anyone knew to fear.
Back then, I wasn’t particularly interested. I suppose I’m still not all that interested, save for the information that’s useful to the woman in front of me. Secora wanders the desolate land of the Cursed Grounds, scuffing her boot through the black sand.
Where the past few miles have been packed with lush trees and bushes and flowers and weeds…the Cursing Grounds are stripped. It’s a half-mile stretch of land, covered not by dirt but by ashy sand. Trees line the far edges of the circular space, bowed, leaning as from this wretched place as their roots will allow.
In the center, the massive stone table reflects the setting sun. We only have a couple hours of daylight left. We’ll get one more night in our shared tent, but then, we’ll be forced to return to reality. A reality I’m not sure I understand anymore.
Secora kneels a few feet from the table, using magic to move ashen sand into three containers. It’s excessive. We won’t need one container for the ritual I’m thinking, let alone three, but it’s better to be safe. If we need more—for the sunwalker spells or something else entirely—it might not be simple to get it. Once Mama realizes my loyalties are closer to this woman than to her, she will likely hide this place.
I run my tongue over the back of my teeth as I step forward to collect the first jar from Secora. As she continues filling the next container, I do a quick protection spell over this one before putting it in my pack. Even if I take an epic tumble down this mountain, the glass container won’t break. I don’tthinkthe sand, on its own, is particularly dangerous, but I’m not interested in risking it.
When Secora hands me the next container, she doesn’t turn back to the final jar. She watches me, brown eyes trailing from my face to my feet to my hands. Back to my face. I wait for her to say something or ask something, but she doesn’t. She only looks and looks and looks.
Even without uttering a word, I somehow know what she’s thinking: everything is about to change. I can’t have Secoraandkeep my life in the Day Realm. At least, not as it’s been. I’ll have to confess to Harrison’s murder. I’ll have to convince Mama to lift Secora’s death sentence. Worse, Mama will have to accept I’m a killer. That I’m in love with her enemy’s greatest weapon.
I don’t want to believe Mama would let the council kill me, but maybe she would. Maybe I’ll have to go into hiding, right alongside Secora and her vampire clan.
Secora finally opens her mouth, but whatever she’s going to say, I’m not ready to hear it. For once, I’m the one leaning away.
“We have another night,” I say. I busy myself with the second jar, readying it for the protection spell. “We don’t need to figure everything out right now.”
“Elliot…”
