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My jaw tenses, teeth grinding as I try to keep it together. “I know I am. But it’s not Solon’s fault.”
“Oh my god,” she says, and eventually my father’s grip on her relaxes just a little. “That’s what you really believe? That this wasn’t his fault.”
She rips out of his arms and storms on over to me, pointing at my chest, her eyes in a frenzy of hatred. “You really think this wasn’t his fault?”
I can tell Solon is still in the apartment somewhere. I can smell him, hear his faint breath. Out of the room, and safe, but not leaving either.
“It’s…complicated,” I tell her feebly. Too complicated for me to even figure out at the moment.
“Honey,” my father says patiently to her, coming over to us. “Don’t make this worse.”
Her mouth drops open. “I’m making this worse?”
“Stop,” I tell them. “Please, just stop. A lot has happened. This isn’t just about what happened with Solon. It’s about Jeremias.”
Suddenly Solon appears in the doorway again, eyes blazing. “Jeremias? Is he the one who took you?”
My mom whips her head around to glare at him and go after him again, but I reach out and grab her hand, trying to keep her focused. I look at Solon and nod. “I was trying to escape, and I was able to. I was able to keep you away. I put up my hands and I felt this power, like electricity, running through my palms and you couldn’t come any close. Like I had a shield protecting me. A bubble.”
Solon’s lips curve into a small, awestruck smile as he stares at me. “That’s incredible.”
“Shut up,” my mom seethes at him. “None of this is incredible.”
“This is the second time she’s been able to use her powers to save her life,” Solon says testily. “I’d say it’s incredible.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” I quickly tell them, not feeling the same pride that Solon is. “I just…I wanted to live, and it happened. I only got so far though. I was…the wound wasn’t healing. It was fatal. And then the window opened and he came inside.”
“Like he crawled inside?” my father asks.
I shake my head. “No. He straight up flew inside.”
“What did he look like?” Solon asks. He takes a step toward me, but I flinch, and it’s enough for him to stop where he is. I’m not ready for there not to be distance between us.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “He was like a human, a man, he had on these black boots and a black cloak. But his face…it was never the same. Only his eyes remained the same, for the most part,” I add, remembering them turning yellow. “But his features were always changing, like he always had a different face every few seconds. I don’t know why it was like that.”
Solon looks grim. “I do. Black magic usually comes at the expense of someone else. Sacrifice. Someone like Jeremias doesn’t live for hundreds of years, get to amass the power and magic that he does, without having to make hundreds of sacrifices.”
“You’re saying his face keeps changing because it belongs to someone he sacrificed?” I ask in horror.
Solon nods. “Could be their souls trapped inside him.” He pauses, studying me. “Don’t tell me he brainwashed you into thinking he’s all good?”
“You don’t even know what happened to me!” I snap at him. “You tried to kill me! If it wasn’t for Jeremias, I wouldn’t be here. He saved my life. He took me somewhere and he fixed me.”
“How did he fix you, sweetie?” my mother asks softly.
I tear my eyes away from Solon and look at her. “I don’t know. There was a circle and lights. Fire. Torches. These four girls, they all looked the same. He said they were his apprentices. They came out of the ground. He made me float in the air above the circle and the fire and he had this cup, this chalice…it was silver.”
“What was in the cup?” my father asks, looking vaguely horrified.
“Blood,” I say. “But it wasn’t human blood. I don’t know what it was. He was chanting, Latin, about venom and blood and bodies and these…things, these creatures came out of the woods. They had deer skulls and cloaks and they were chanting too.”
“The old ones,” Solon says under his breath. “Lapp witches.”
“Whatever they were, they scared the hell out of me. Jeremias said they belonged to the Dark One.”
Both my parents visibly shudder, but Solon remains straight-faced.
“How did you get back here?” my father asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. He said I was healed and that the slayers were worried. I guess he meant you. Suddenly I was back here.”
My father pats me gently on the shoulder. “We have a lot to discuss, Lenore. A lot. I want to talk more about this, about everything you saw. But you need to rest. Traveling the way you did, it will take everything out of you. And with that wound…”
