Prodigium version of Fort Knox. The idea that anyone would be in my bedroom, being all nefarious, was completely—
I heard the sound again—another thump, this one a lot louder. And then I realized that it was coming from my nightstand.
Blood pounded in my ears as I ran over to the small table and yanked open the drawer.
Sure enough, the gold coin was thumping around in there like it was alive. How the heck did this work? Archer had said he’d use it to find me, but it suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea what that actually meant. Maybe the coin was a type of portable portal, and he was about to poof into my bedroom in a cloud of smoke or something.
That thought—Archer literally putting himself in the middle of a whole bunch of people who wanted to kill him—was too horrible to contemplate. I closed my fingers around the coin, drawing in a sharp breath at how hot it was.
Suddenly, it was like a screen fell over my eyes, and I could see the abandoned corn mill. The alcove that led to the Itineris. Archer was sitting there next to it, in the low windowsill.
Waiting for me.
Dropping the coin on the bedside table, I turned toward the dresser. I’d grab a pair of jeans, that long- sleeved black shirt I’d brought. If I were quiet enough, I could probably get out of the house without even trying to come up with an excuse—
Then I thought of Dad, pale and serious, telling me how important it was that I never see Archer again. I thought of how proud of me he’d been today, of what might happen to him if anyone caught me sneaking out to see an Eye.
Of Council Headquarters, burning down with seven Council members still inside.
I reached into the open dresser drawer, but instead of my jeans, I took out my nightshirt. Once I’d slipped it on, I climbed into bed and flipped out the light, fumbling for the coin in the darkness. As I clutched it in my fist, I saw Archer again. He was standing up now, pacing and rubbing his hand over his jaw. He kept glancing toward the door.
Tears wet the hair at my temples.
At least I knew he was alive. At least I knew he hadn’t been trying to kill me. That was enough. It had to be.
Archer waited for me a long time. Longer than I’d thought he would. It was past midnight when he gave one last look at the door, then finally disappeared into the alcove. I held the coin even tighter, but as soon as Archer was gone, it went cold, and the vision faded to black.
chapter 21
Five a.m. came very early the next morning, especially for someone who’d spent most of the night crying. And when I had slept, it had been fitfully. I kept jolting awake, sure someone was in the room with me. Once, I even thought I caught a flash of red hair, but I must have been dreaming.
My head throbbed, and I practically had to pry my swollen eyes open when my alarm went off. But despite that, I felt better—lighter—as I went down to meet Dad. Yes, it still hurt to think about Archer, but I’d done the right thing. I’d put Dad and Jenna and, heck, pretty much all of Prodigium society ahead of what I wanted, and if that wasn’t showing “leadership ability,” I didn’t know what was.
So I was pretty proud of myself by the time I made my way up the library steps and over to the bookcase.
Dad, sadly, was not feeling the same way. “I said five,” he hissed as soon as I rounded the corner. “It is now five-fifteen.” He looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. His suit wasn’t wrinkled, exactly, but it wasn’t as pristine as usual. Also, he hadn’t shaved, which freaked me out almost as much as the intensity in his eyes.
Surprised, I blinked at him. “Sorry—” I replied, but he held up his hand and whispered, “Keep your voice down.”
“Why?” I whispered back. We stood on either side of the bookcase, Virginia Thorne’s grimoire looking every bit as ominous as it had that first day. “What are we doing in here?”
Dad glanced around like someone might be listening to us, before saying, “We’re going to open this bookcase and remove the grimoire.”
Now I wasn’t surprised so much as shocked. “No way,” I shot back. “This thing is enchanted to hell and back—maybeliterally.”
Dad closed his eyes and took a deep breath, like he was having to physically restrain himself from yelling. “Sophie,” he said slowly. “I can’t do this alone. The magic sealing this case is too strong even for me. But if both of us were to try…well, I think we could do it.”
“Why?” I asked. “You said yourself that the grimoire is filled with the most ancient, darkest magic in the world. So what do you want it for?”
Another deep breath. “Academic reasons.”
Anger rushed through me, and I felt my magic start to rise up. “If you want my help so much, tell me the truth.”
“This is extremely dangerous business, and I think it’s better for you if you know as little as possible. That way, if we’re—if we’re caught, you can honestly say you didn’t know what I was doing.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I am so sick of people lying to me, or only telling me half of what I need to know. You said yesterday that it was time I started learning about the ‘family business,’ and I gave up Ar…a lot for you, and for the Council. So tell me what’s going on.”
It was Dad’s turn to look surprised. For a moment, I thought he might just call the whole thing off. But then he nodded and said, “Fair enough. I told you that the Council had been trying to raise a demon for hundreds of years before Virginia finally located this book.” He gestured to the grimoire. “After Alice, the Council agreed that the magic was too dangerous, and the book was locked in this case. Ever since then, no one’s been able to do a possession ritual. But now…”
“Daisy and Nick,” I murmured.
“Exactly.”
“So what? You think someone took the grimoire out and used that spell to make Daisy and Nick demons?”
Dad ran a hand through his hair, and for the first time, I noticed that his fingers were trembling. “No, it’s not that. This case is exceedingly difficult to open. I just want to see the ritual itself, what’s required for a possession spell. If I knew exactlywhat had been done to Daisy and Nick, then maybe it would help me figure out who did it to them. And why.”
It sounded like a rational enough explanation, but, to be honest, it still scared the crap out of me. Unleashing a book that contained the darkest magic in the whole wide world could never be seen as a good thing, you know? But I didn’t say that to Dad. Instead, I asked, “Okay, so how do we get it open if it’s so ‘exceedingly difficult’?”
Dad laid a hand on top of the case. “Brute strength, basically. The case requires all twelve of the Council members to unlock it.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Okay, well, since there are only two of us, and only one of us is a Council member —”
Shaking his head, Dad cut me off. “No, technically, we’re both Council members. You’re the heir apparent to the head of the Council, ergo—”
“Dad, it is way too early to be using words like ‘ergo.’ And even if I am a Council member, that still leaves us ten people short.”
“Yes, well, that’s where the brute strength part comes in. Between our combined powers and the blood, it should open for us.”
“Blood?” I echoed faintly.
Dad looked grim as he pulled a short silver dagger out of his suit jacket. “I told you, blood magic is very ancient and very powerful. Now give me your hand. We don’t have much time.”
