But I could feel the power radiating from it. The liquid inside would burn hot enough to destroy anything. Mom stoppered the vials with corks that she'd also enchanted, then wrapped them in a cloth marked with protective runes. Her hands shook as she held one out to me.
"There it is." Her voice was hoarse from exhaustion. "That was easier than it should have been for something so destructive." Tseki steadied her when she swayed.
I took the wrapped vial carefully, feeling the weight of it. Both physical and metaphysical. Even through the protective cloth, it thrummed with barely contained power.
"The enchantment on the glass should hold for twelve hours according to the grimoire," Mom continued. "After that, the binding begins to degrade. You need to use it well before then, or I need to do another enchantment."
"Thank you," I said, meeting Mom's eyes. "For doing this. For taking this risk."
"For my grandchildren?" Mom smiled tiredly. "I'd unmake the world."
Nina made a small sound beside me, and when I looked at her, she was looking at her Gammy with awe. "That was—" She shook her head, unable to find words.
"Terrifying," I finished. "And incredible. And exactly what we needed."
Everyone began talking about how incredible that was as we climbed back up the stairs together. I had the vial clutched carefully in my hands. When we were halfway up, we heard the chiming from Nina’s laptop. She raced up ahead of us.
When we reached the kitchen, Jean-Marc's face filled the screen. "I found something," he was telling her. "I’m not sure if it will help or not, but I found it interesting."
I set the vial in one of the cabinets where we kept potions. By the time I turned around, Aidon, Stella, and Tarja had joined us around the island. “What did you discover?” I asked my son.
"I hacked deeper into the Corvus server," Jean-Marc said, pulling up files on his end. "Employee records, specifically. Dr. Parker has been with the organization since its founding in 1982."
"We knew that," Stella said.
"But his personnel file shows a birth date that would make him only thirty-five years old." Jean-Marc's expression was grim. "That's impossible. Either the records are wrong, or?—"
"Or he's been using stolen essence to extend his own life," I finished, my blood running cold. "Is he one of them? One of the original Thessmark. I thought they looked like monsters." The image of the gray skin, long fingers, and black fingernails flashed through my mind.
There was also the fact that we'd assumed the Thessmark were external to Corvus. Basically, demons who had infiltrated a legitimate organization. But what if we had it backwards?
"What if theyareCorvus?" Aidon voiced my thoughts. "What if the entire medical collective was created specifically to identify and harvest children? And they knew they needed legitimate doctors to stay in business. After all, no parent would trust them. Any being touched by the Underworld has a distinctive feel. "
"No, the organization isn't infiltrated." Nana bobbed her head decisively. "It's one of their weapons."
Jean-Marc nodded. "That’s disturbing. I also found financial records. Corvus receives significant funding from a private foundation called the Taverner Trust. It was established in 1980, two years before Corvus was founded."
He pulled up documents, scrolling through them. "The trust's charter says it's dedicated to the preservation and advancement of magical bloodlines. Sounds benevolent until you realize what they mean by preservation. The founder is listed as Audrey Taverner."
Stella was already typing on her phone, her fingers flying. "Audrey Taverner was a healer in the 1970s. Brilliant, respected, and dedicated to helping children with magical illnesses."
She kept reading, her expression darkening. "Then she lost her twin daughters to a magical plague in 1974. Both were dead within a week of each other." Stella looked up. "According to this, she became obsessed. Started researching ways to preserve magical essence, to prevent other children from dying like hers did."
"Wait." Aidon's voice cut through the room like a blade. "I don’t recall a magical plague in 1974. What if it wasn't a plague at all?"
"What if her daughters were victims?" I breathed. "What if the Thessmark killed them, and she never knew?"
Tarja's ears went flat against her skull, her fur bristling. "I remember her. I didn’t know her personally, but other familiars spoke of her. She was expelled from her coven in 1976 for experimenting on children without consent. Trying to extract and preserve their essence before death, claiming it was to save them."
"Two years after her daughters died," Stella said slowly. "Jesus. What if the people who killed her children approached her afterward? Offered her a way to bring them back?"
"It’s more likely she never knew who killed them," Nana began, "and the Thessmark saw an opportunity. A grieving mother, a talented healer, and someone they could use to build their empire?"
Mom's face had gone pale. "She could have been working with her daughters' murderers this entire time without knowing it."
"When was she expelled?" I asked Tarja.
"1976," Tarja said. "There was a fire at her laboratory in 1978. A terrible one. Witnesses said nothing could have survived. Everyone thought she died in the flames."
