We pass an athame around, slicing our palms and spilling our blood onto the ground. Then, clasping hands, we recite the words that have come to mean more to me than any promise I’ve ever made, any vow I’ve ever sworn.
“Who gathers here as bonded brothers?” Cass asks, his voice a clarion call through the mist.
The rest of us respond as one: “We, the Keepers of the Grave.”
“Who spills his blood as a symbol of our commitment to one another and in the service and protection of the first?”
“We, the Keepers of the Grave.”
“Who vows, by his life or his death, by his silence or his words, in this and all incarnations henceforth, to protect the one true source?”
“We, the Keepers of the Grave.”
“We, the Keepers of the Grave,” he says, his last word echoing.
Gazing down at the objects, we call upon our magick once more, our shared power coursing through us, our intention set.
Suddenly, the objects begin to glow brighter, vibrating against the earth with a deep hum.
“Now!” Cass shouts, and together we recite the spell.
By Star, Sun, and Moon, by Devil and Tower
Now is the end of your limitless power
What magick first made, what magick first bound
Return to the earth, by magick unwound
An explosion of heat and pure, golden light bursts forth, knocking us all onto our asses.
By the time the light fades away and we scramble back to our feet, the once-revered Arcana objects are gone.
We stare at the blackened patch of earth for a long moment, no one speaking. No one moving.
After what feels like an entire day, Stevie finally breaks the silence.
“Okay, then. Done and done.” With a bright grin and a cute shrug, she dusts off her hands and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Now there’s just one thing left to do.”
I haul her into my arms, pinning her in a tight hug. She’s my fucking queen, and there’s nothing I won’t do for her. I don’t have to ask to know my brothers feel the same. “Name it, Little Bird. Whatever you ask, it’s already yours.”
She lays her head on my chest, her ear pressed to my heart, and lets out a sigh of deep contentment. “Take me thefuckhome.”
Twenty-Eight
STEVIE
One month later…
We’ve just returned to the house at Red Sands after our thirty-ninth on-campus funeral, and there are still so many more to come. So many more lives to honor and remember. So many more tears to shed.
They’re calling it the Battle for Arcana Academy, and it stole the lives of one hundred and seven of our Academy witches and mages.
One hundred and seven. It’s a number that will live on in our hearts forever.
One hundred and seven lives. One hundred and seven students and faculty. Staff. Best friends and sisters and cousins, sons and daughters, mentors, lovers.
All of them are heroes who died fighting by our side, sacrificing themselves to end the Dark Arcana’s brief but brutal reign in a war many of them hadn’t even heard about. One minute it was just an outlandish rumor. The next, it was bashing down their doors, forcing them to take up magickal arms against impossibly strong enemies.
