Beautiful Creatures

2.11

The Claiming

Casters cannot be with Mortals without killing them.

It all made sense now. The elemental connection between us. The electricity, the shortness of breath whenever we kissed, the heart attack that had almost killed me—we couldn’t be together physically.

I knew it was true. I remembered what Macon had said, that night in the swamp with Amma, and in my room.

A future between the two of them is impossible.

There are things you don’t see right now—things that are beyond any of our control.

Lena was shaking. She knew it was true, too. “What did you say?” she whispered.

“That you and Ethan can never really be together. You can never marry, never have children. You can never have a future, at least not a real future. I can’t believe they never told you. They certainly kept you and Ridley sheltered.”

Lena turned to Macon. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I love him.”

“You had never had a boyfriend before, let alone a Mortal one. None of us ever dreamed it would be an issue. We didn’t realize how strong your connection with Ethan was until it was too late.”

I could hear their voices, but I wasn’t listening. We could never be together. I’d never be able to be that close to her.

The wind began to pick up, whipping the rain through the air like glass. Lighting tore across the sky. Thunder crashed so loud the ground shook. Clearly we were no longer in the eye of the storm. I knew Lena couldn’t control herself much longer.

“When were you going to tell me?” she screamed over the wind.

“After you Claimed yourself.”

Sarafine saw her opportunity and took it. “But don’t you see, Lena? We have a way. A way you and Ethan can spend the rest of your lives together, marry, have children. Whatever you want.”

“She’d never allow that, Lena,” Macon snapped. “Even if it were possible, Dark Casters despise Mortals. They would never allow their bloodlines to be diluted with Mortal blood. It’s one of our greatest divides.”

“True, but in this case, Lena, we would be willing to make an exception, considering our alternative. And we have found a way to make it possible.” She shrugged. “It’s better than dying.”

Macon looked at Lena, and countered, “Could you kill everyone in your family just to be with Ethan? Aunt Del? Reece? Ryan? Your own grandmother?”

Sarafine spread her powerful hands wide, luxuriously, flexing her powers. “Once you Turn, you won’t even care about those people. And you’ll have me, your mother, your uncle, and Ethan. Isn’t he the most important person in your life?”

Lena’s eyes clouded over. Rain and fog swirled around her. It was so loud that it almost drowned out the sound of the shells at Honey Hill. I had forgotten we could get killed, by either of the two battles being waged here tonight.

Macon grabbed Lena by both arms. “She’s right. If you agree to this, you won’t feel remorse, because you won’t be yourself. The person you are now will be dead. What she’s not telling you is that you won’t remember your feelings for Ethan. Within a few months, your heart will be so Dark, he won’t mean anything to you. The Claiming has an incredibly powerful effect on a Natural. You may even kill him by your own hand—you will be capable of that kind of evil. Isn’t that right, Sarafine? Tell Lena what happened to her father, since you are such a proponent of the truth.”

“Your father stole you from me, Lena. What happened was unfortunate, an accident.” Lena looked stricken. It was one thing to hear that her mother had murdered her father from crazy Mrs. Lincoln at the Disciplinary Committee meeting. It was something else to find out it was true.

Macon tried to turn the odds back in his favor. “Tell her, Sarafine. Explain to her how her father burned to death in his own house, by a fire you set. We all know how you love to play with fire.”

Sarafine’s eyes were fierce. “You know, you’ve interfered for sixteen years. I think you should sit the rest of this one out.”

Out of nowhere, Hunting appeared just inches from Macon. Now he looked less like a man and more like what he was. A Demon. His slick black hair stood up like the hair on a wolf’s back before it attacks, his ears sharpened to points, and when his mouth opened, it was the mouth of an animal. Then he just disappeared, dematerialized.

Hunting reappeared in a flash, on top of Macon, so quickly I wasn’t even sure I had really seen it happen. Macon grabbed Hunting by the jacket and tossed him into a tree. I had never realized how strong Macon really was. Hunting went flying, but where he should have slammed against the tree, he barreled right through it, rolling to the ground on the other side. In the same moment, Macon disappeared and reappeared on top of him. Macon threw Hunting’s body to the ground, the force cracking the earth open beneath them. Hunting lay on the ground, defeated. Macon turned back to look at Lena. As he turned, Hunting rose up behind him with a smile. I yelled, trying to warn Macon, but no one could hear me over the hurricane building above us. Hunting growled viciously, sinking his teeth into the back of Macon’s neck like a dog in a fight.

Macon screamed, a deep guttural sound, and disappeared. He was gone. But Hunting must have hung on because he disappeared with Macon, and when they reappeared at the edge of the clearing, Hunting was still locked onto Macon’s neck.

What was he doing? Was he feeding? I didn’t know enough to know how or if it was even possible. But whatever Hunting was taking, it seemed to be draining Macon. Lena screamed, ragged, bloodcurdling screams.

Hunting pushed away from Macon’s body. Macon lay slumped over in the mud, rain battering down on him. Another round of canisters rang out. I flinched, rattled from the proximity of live ammo. The Reenactment was moving toward us, in the direction of Greenbrier. The Confederates were making their final stand.

The noise from the rounds muffled the growling, an altogether different, but familiar sound. Boo Radley. He howled and leapt into the air toward Hunting, bent on defending his master. Just as the dog sprang toward Hunting, Larkin’s body began to twist, spiraling into a pile of vipers in front of Boo. The vipers hissed, slithering over each other.

Boo didn’t realize the snakes were an illusion, that he could run right through them. He backed away, barking, his attention on the writhing snakes, which was the opportunity Hunting needed. Hunting dematerialized and appeared behind Boo, choking the dog with his supernatural strength. Boo’s body jerked as he tried to fight against Hunting, but it was futile. Hunting was too strong. He tossed the dog’s limp body aside, next to Macon’s. Boo was still.

The dog and his master lay side by side in the mud. Motionless.

“Uncle Macon!” Lena screamed.

Hunting ran his hands through his slick hair and shook his head, invigorated. Larkin wound back through his leather jacket, into his familiar human form. Between them, they looked like two drug addicts after a fix.

Larkin looked up at the moon, and then his watch. “Half past. Midnight’s comin’.”

Sarafine stretched her arms up as if she was embracing the sky. “The Sixteenth Moon, the Sixteenth Year.”

Hunting grinned at Lena, blood and mud on his face. “Welcome to the family.”

Lena had no intention of joining this family. I could see that now. She pulled herself to her feet, soaking wet, covered with mud from her own torrential downpour. Her black hair whipped around her. She could barely stand against the wind, and leaned into it, as if at any moment her feet would leave the ground and she would disappear into the black sky. Maybe she could. At this point, nothing would have surprised me.

Larkin and Hunting moved silently in the shadows until they were flanking Sarafine, facing Lena. Sarafine moved closer.

Lena raised a single palm. “Stop. Now.”

Sarafine didn’t stop. Lena closed her hand. A fire line shot up through the tall grass. The flames roared, separating mother and daughter. Sarafine froze in her tracks. She hadn’t expected Lena to be capable of much more than what she probably considered a little wind and rain. Lena had taken her by surprise. “I’ll never hide anything from you, like everyone else in our family has. I’ve explained your options, and I’ve told you the truth. You may hate me, but I’m still your mother. And I can offer you the one thing they cannot. A future with the Mortal.”

The flames shot higher. The fire spread like it had a will of its own until the flames surrounded Sarafine, Larkin, and Hunting. Lena laughed. A dark laugh, like her mother’s. Even from across the clearing, it made me shiver. “You don’t have to pretend you care about me. We all know what a bitch you are, Mother. It’s the one thing I think we can all agree on.”

Sarafine pursed her lips and blew, as if she was blowing a kiss. Only the fire blew with her, shifting its direction, racing through the weeds to surround Lena. “Say it like you mean it, darling. Put some teeth into it.”

Lena smiled. “Burning a witch? That’s so cliché.”

“If I wanted you to burn, Lena, you’d already be dead. Remember, you’re not the only Natural.”

Slowly, Lena reached forward and thrust one hand into the flames. She didn’t wince, but remained completely expressionless. Then she stuck her other hand into the blaze. She lifted her hands above her head and held the fire as if it were a ball. Then she threw the flames as hard as she could. Right at me.

Fire smashed into the oak behind me, igniting the spray of branches faster than dry kindling. The flames raced down the trunk. I stumbled forward, trying to get out of the way. I kept moving until I reached the wall of my invisible prison. But this time, it wasn’t there. I dragged my legs through the inches of mud, across the field. I looked over and saw Link falling alongside me. The oak behind him was burning even brighter than my own. The flames reached into the dark sky and began to spread to the surrounding field. I raced toward Lena. I couldn’t think of anything else. Link stumbled over toward his mom. Only Lena and the fire line stood between Sarafine and us. For the moment, it seemed to be enough.

I touched Lena’s shoulder. In the darkness, she should have jumped, but she knew it was me. She didn’t even look at me.

I love you, L.

Don’t say anything, Ethan. She can hear everything. I’m not sure, but I think she always could.

I looked across the field, but I couldn’t see Sarafine, Hunting, or Larkin beyond the flames. I knew they were there, and I knew they were probably going to try to kill us all. But I was with Lena, and for just one second, it was all that mattered.

“Ethan! Go get Ryan. Uncle Macon needs help. I can’t hold her much longer.” I took off running before Lena could say another word. Whatever Sarafine had done to sever the connection between us, it no longer mattered. Lena was back in my heart and my head. As I ran through the uneven fields, that was all I cared about.

Except for the fact that it was almost midnight. I ran faster.

I love you, too. Hurry—

I looked at my cell. 11:25. I banged again on the door of Ravenwood and pushed frantically on the crescent moon above the lintel. Nothing happened. Larkin must have done something to seal off the threshold, not that I had any idea how.

“Ryan! Aunt Del! Gramma!” I had to find Ryan. Macon was hurt. Lena could be next. I couldn’t predict what Sarafine would do when Lena refused her. Link stumbled onto the doorstep behind me.

“Ryan’s not here.”

“Is Ryan a doctor? We gotta help my mom.”

“No. She’s—I’ll explain later.”

Link was pacing on the veranda. “Was any a that real?”

Think. I had to think. I was in this alone. Ravenwood was a virtual fortress tonight. No one could break in, at least no Mortal, and I couldn’t let Lena down.

I dialed the only person I could think of who would have no problem tangling with two Dark Casters and a Blood Incubus, in the middle of a supernatural hurricane. A person who was a sort of supernatural hurricane herself. Amma.

I listened to the phone ring on the other end. “No answer. Amma’s probably still with my dad.”

11:30. There was only one other person who could help me, and it was a long shot. I dialed the Gatlin County Library. “Marian’s not there either. She’d know what to do. What the hell? She never leaves that library, even after hours.”

Link was pacing frantically. “Nothin’s open. It’s a freakin’ holiday. It’s the Battle of Honey Hill, remember? Maybe we should just go down to the Safe Zone and look for the paramedics.”

I stared at him as if a bolt of lightning had just come out of his mouth and hit me in the head. “It’s a holiday. Nothing’s open,” I repeated back to him.

“Yeah. I just said that. So what do we do?” He looked miserable.

“Link, you’re a genius. You’re a freaking genius.”

“I know, man, but what does that have to with anything?”

“You got the Beater?” He nodded.

“We gotta get outta here.”

Link started the engine. It spluttered, but caught, like it always did. The Holy Rollers blasted out of the speakers, and for the record, this time they sucked. Ridley, she must seriously rock the whole Siren gig.

Link ripped down the gravel drive, and then looked over at me sideways. “Where are we goin’ again?”

“The library.”

“Thought you said it was closed.”

“The other library.” Link nodded like he understood, which he didn’t. But he went along with it anyway, just like old times. The Beater shredded down the gravel drive like it was Monday morning and we were late to first period. Only it wasn’t.

It was 11:40.

When we skidded to a stop in front of the Historical Society, Link didn’t even try to understand. I was out of the car before he could even turn off the Holy Rollers. He caught up with me as I rounded the corner into the darkness behind the second-oldest building in Gatlin. “This isn’t the library.”

“Right.”

“It’s the DAR.”

“Right.”

“Which you hate.”

“Right.”

“My mom comes here like, every day.”

“Right.”

“Dude. What are we doin’ here?”

I stepped up to the grating and pushed my hand through. It sliced through the metal, at least what looked like metal, leaving my arm looking like it was amputated at the wrist.

Link grabbed me. “Man, Ridley must’ve put somethin’ into my Mountain Dew. Because I swear, your arm, I just saw your arm—forget it, I’m hallucinatin’.”

I pulled my arm back out and wiggled my fingers in front of his face. “Seriously, man. After all the things you’ve seen tonight, now you think you’re hallucinating? Now?”

I checked my cell. 11:45.

“I don’t have time to explain, but it’s only going to get weirder from here on out. We’re going down to the library, but it’s not, like, a library. And you are going to be freaking, most of the time. So if you want to go wait in the car, that’s cool.” Link was trying to absorb what I was saying as quickly as I was saying it, which was rough.

“Are you in, or not?”

Link looked at the grating. Without saying another word, he stuck his hand through. It disappeared.

He was in.

I ducked through the doorway and started down the old stone stairs. “Come on. We gotta book.”

Link laughed nervously as he stumbled after me. “Get it? Book? Library?”

The torches lit themselves as we scrambled down into the darkness. I grabbed one out of its metal crescent holder and tossed it to Link. I grabbed another and jumped the last stairs to the crypt room. One by one, the wall torches ignited as we stepped into the center of the chamber. The columns emerged, along with their shadows, in the flickering light from the mounted torches. The words domus lunae libri reappeared in shadow on the entranceway, where I had last seen them.

“Aunt Marian! Are you here?” She tapped my shoulder from behind. I almost jumped out of my skin, bumping into Link.

Link screamed, dropping his torch. I stomped on the flames with my feet. “Jeez, Dr. Ashcroft. You about scared the pants offa me.”

“Sorry, Wesley—and Ethan, have you lost your mind? Do you have any recollection who this poor boy’s mother is?”

“Mrs. Lincoln’s unconscious. Lena’s in trouble. Macon’s been hurt. I need to get into Ravenwood, I can’t find Amma, and I can’t find a way inside. I need to go through the Tunnels.” I was a little boy again, and it all just came tumbling out. Talking to Marian was like talking to my mom, or at least like talking to someone who knew what it was like to talk to my mom.

“I can’t do anything. I can’t help you. One way or another, the Claiming comes at midnight. I can’t stop the clock. I can’t save Macon, or Wesley’s mother, or anyone. I can’t get involved.” She looked at Link. “And I am sorry about your mother, Wesley. I mean no disrespect.”

“Ma’am.” Link looked defeated.

I shook my head and handed Marian the nearest torch from the wall. “You don’t understand. I don’t want you to do anything, other than what the Caster librarian does.”

“What?”

I looked at her meaningfully. “I need to deliver a book to Ravenwood.” I bent down and reached into the nearest stack, and randomly pulled out a book, singeing the tips of my fingers. “The Complete Guide to Poisonous Herbiage and Verbiage.”

Marian was skeptical. “Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight. Right away. Macon asked me to bring it to him personally. Before midnight.”

“A Caster librarian is the only Mortal who knows where to access the Lunae Libri Tunnels.” Marian looked at me shrewdly and took the book from my hands. “Good thing I happen to be one.”

Link and I followed Marian through the twisting tunnels of the Lunae Libri. At one point I counted the oaken doors we passed through, but I stopped after we got to sixteen. The Tunnels were like a maze, and each one was different. There were low-ceilinged passageways where Link and I had to duck to walk through, and high-ceilinged hallways where there seemed to be no roof over our heads at all. It was literally another world. Some passages were rustic, adorned with nothing but their modest masonry, while others were more like the hallways in a castle or museum, with tapestries, framed antique maps, and oil paintings hanging from the walls. Under different circumstances, I would’ve stopped to read the tiny brass plaques under the portraits. Maybe they were famous Casters, who knew. The one thing the passageways had in common was the smell of earth and time, and the number of times Marian found herself fumbling for her lunae crescent key, the iron circle she wore at her waist.

After what seemed like forever, we arrived at the door. Our torches were nearly out, and I had to hold mine up so that I could read Rayvenwoode Manor carved into the vertical planks. Marian twisted the crescent key through the final iron keyhole and the door swung open. Carved steps led up into the house and I could tell from the glimpse of ceiling above that we were on the main floor.

I turned to Marian. “Thanks, Aunt Marian.” I held out my hand for the book. “I’ll give this to Macon.”

“Not so fast. I’ve yet to see a library card issued in your name, EW.” She winked at me. “I’ll deliver this book myself.”

I looked at my cell. 11:45 again. That was impossible. “How can it be the same time that it was when we arrived at the Lunae Libri?”

“Lunar time. You kids never listen. Things aren’t always as they seem, down below.”

Link and Marian followed me up the stairs and into the front hall. Ravenwood was just as we had left it, down to the cake left out on plates, to the tea set, and the stack of unopened birthday presents.

“Aunt Del! Reece! Gramma! Hello? Where is everybody?” I called out, and they came out of the woodwork. Del was positioned by the stairs, holding a lamp over her head as if she was going to whack Marian over the head with it in another second. Gramma was standing in the doorway, shielding Ryan with her arm. Reece was hiding under the stairs, brandishing a cake knife.

They all started to talk at once. “Marian! Ethan! We were so worried. Lena has disappeared, and when we heard the bell from the Tunnels, we thought it was—”

“Have you seen Her? Is she out there?”

“Have you seen Lena? When Macon didn’t come back, we began to worry.”

“And Larkin. She didn’t hurt Larkin, did she?”

I looked at them in disbelief, taking the lamp out of Aunt Del’s hands, and handing it to Link. “A lamp? You really thought a lamp was gonna save you?”

Aunt Del shrugged. “Barclay went up to the attic to Shift some weapons out of curtain rods and old Solstice decorations. It’s all I could find.”

I knelt down in front of Ryan. There wasn’t much time, about fourteen minutes to be exact. “Ryan. Do you remember when I was hurt, and you helped me? I need you to come do that right now, over at Greenbrier. Uncle Macon fell down, and he and Boo are hurt.”

Ryan looked like she was going to cry. “Boo’s hurt, too?”

Link cleared his throat in the back of the room. “And my mom. I mean, I know she’s been a pain and everything, but could she—could she help my mom?”

“And Link’s mom.”

Gramma pushed Ryan back behind her, patting her on the cheek. She adjusted her sweater and smoothed her skirt. “Come, then. Del and I will go. Reece, stay here with your sister. Tell your father where we’ve gone.”

“Gramma, I need Ryan.”

“For tonight, I am Ryan, Ethan.” She picked up her bag.

“I’m not leaving here without Ryan.” I held my ground. There was too much at stake.

“We can’t take an Unclaimed child out there, not on the Sixteenth Moon. She could be killed.” Reece looked at me like I was an idiot. I was out of the Caster loop again.

Del took my arm reassuringly. “My mother is an Empath. She is very sensitive to the powers of others and she can borrow those powers for a time. Right now, she has borrowed Ryan’s. It won’t last for very long, but for now she is capable of anything Ryan can do. And Gramma was Claimed, obviously quite some time ago. So we’ll go with you.”

I looked at my cell. 11:49.

“What if we don’t make it in time?”

Marian smiled and held up the book. “I haven’t made a delivery to Greenbrier, well, ever. Del, do you think you could find the way?”

Aunt Del nodded, putting on her glasses. “Palimpsests can always find ancient lost doors. It’s just brand new ones we have a little trouble with.” She disappeared back down into the Tunnels, followed by Marian and Gramma. Link and I scrambled to keep up with them.

“For a bunch a old ladies,” Link panted, “they really know how to move.”

This time, the passageway was small and crumbling, with speckled black and green moss growing in sprays across the walls and ceiling. Probably the floors, too, but I couldn’t see them in the shadows. We were five bobbing torches in otherwise total darkness. Since Link and I were at the back of the pack, the smoke was wafting into my eyes, making them tear and sting.

As we got closer to Greenbrier, I could tell we were there by the smoke that started seeping down into the Tunnels, not from our torches, but from hidden openings leading to the world outside.

“This is it.” Aunt Del coughed, feeling her way around the edges of a rectangular cut in the stone walls. Marian scraped off the moss, revealing a door. The lunae key fit perfectly, as if it had opened just days ago, rather than hundreds of thousands of days ago. The door wasn’t oak, but stone. I couldn’t believe Aunt Del had the strength to push it open.

Aunt Del paused on the stairwell and motioned to me to pass. She knew we were nearly out of time. I ducked my head under the hanging moss and smelled the dank air as I made my way up the stone steps. I climbed out of the tunnel, but when I got to the top, I froze. I could see the crypt’s stone table, where The Book of Moons had lain for so many years.

And I knew it was the same table, because the Book was lying on it now.

The same book that was missing from my closet shelf this morning. I had no idea how it had gotten there, but there was no time to ask. I could hear the fire before I saw it.

Fire is loud, full of rage and chaos and destruction. And fire was all around me. The smoke in the air was so thick, I was choking on it. The heat was singeing the hair right off my arms. It was like a vision from the locket, or worse, like the last of my nightmares—the one where Lena was consumed by fire.

The feeling that I was losing her. It was happening.

Lena, where are you?

Help Uncle Macon.

Her voice was dimming. I waved the smoke away so I could see my cell.

11:53. Seven minutes to midnight. We were out of time.

Gramma grabbed my hand. “Don’t just stand there. We need Macon.”

Gramma and I ran, hand in hand, out into the fire. The long row of willows that framed the archway leading into the graveyard and the gardens was burning. The brush, the scrub oaks, the palmettos, the rosemary, the lemon trees—everything was on fire. I could hear the last few canisters in the distance. Honey Hill was wrapping up, and I knew the reenactors would be on to the fireworks soon, as if the fireworks in the Safe Zone could in any way compare to the fireworks going on out here. The whole garden as well as the clearing was burning, surrounding the crypt.

Gramma and I stumbled through the smoke until we neared the burning oaks, and I found Macon lying where we had left him. Gramma leaned over him and touched his cheek with her hand. “He’s weak, but he’ll be all right.” At the same moment, Boo Radley rolled over and jumped up onto all fours. He slunk over and lay down on his belly next to his master.

Macon struggled to turn his head toward Gramma. His voice was barely a whisper. “Where’s Lena?”

“Ethan’s going to find her. You rest. I’m going to help Mrs. Lincoln.”

Link was by his mom’s side and Gramma hustled in their direction without another word. I stood up, scanning the fires for Lena. I couldn’t see any of them, anywhere. Not Hunting, Larkin, Sarafine—anyone.

I’m up here. On top of the crypt. But I think I’m stuck.

Hold on, L. I’m coming.

I made my way back through the flames, trying to stick to the pathways I remembered from being in Greenbrier with Lena. The closer I got to the crypt, the hotter the flames were. My skin felt like it was peeling off, but I knew it was actually burning.

I climbed on top of an unmarked gravestone, found a foothold in the crumbling stone wall, and pulled myself up as far as I could. On top of the crypt was a statue, some kind of angel, with part of her body broken off. I grabbed onto its—I don’t know what, it felt something like an ankle—and pulled myself over the edge.

Hurry, Ethan! I need you.

That’s when I found myself face to face with Sarafine.

Who plunged a knife into my stomach.

A real knife, into my real stomach.

The end of the dream we had never been allowed to see. Only this part wasn’t a dream. I know, because it was my stomach, and I felt every inch of the blade.

Surprised, Ethan? You think Lena’s the only Caster on this channel?

Sarafine’s voice began to fade.

Let her try to stay Light now.

As I drifted away, all I could think was if you stuck me in a Confederate uniform, I’d be Ethan Carter Wate. Even down to the same stomach wound, with the same locket in my pocket. Even if all I had ever deserted was the Jackson High basketball team, rather than Lee’s army.

Dreaming about a Caster girl I would always love. Just like the other Ethan.

Ethan! No!

No! No! No!

One minute I was screaming, the next, the sound was stuck in my throat.

I remember Ethan falling. I remember my mother smiling. The glint of the knife, and the blood.

Ethan’s blood.

This couldn’t be happening.

Nothing moved, nothing. Everything was frozen perfectly in place, like a scene in a wax museum. The billows of smoke remained billows. They were fluffy and gray, but they went nowhere, neither up nor down. They just hung in the air as if they were made of cardboard, part of a backdrop in a play. The tongues of flame were still transparent, still hot, but they consumed nothing and made no sound. Even the air didn’t move. Everything was exactly as it had been a second before.

Gramma was hunched over Mrs. Lincoln, about to touch her cheek, her hand hanging in the air. Link was holding his mother’s hand, kneeling in the mud like a scared little boy. Aunt Del and Marian were crouched on the lower steps of the crypt passageway, shielding their faces from the smoke.

Uncle Macon lay on the ground, Boo crouching next to him. Hunting was leaning against a tree a few feet away, admiring his handiwork. Larkin’s leather coat was on fire and he was facing the wrong direction, halfway down the road toward Ravenwood. Predictably running from, rather than toward, the action.

And Sarafine. My mother held a carved dagger, an ancient Dark thing, high above her head. Her face was feverish with fury and fire and hate. The blade still dripped blood over Ethan’s lifeless body. Even the drops of blood were frozen in the air.

Ethan’s arm was stretched out, over the edge of the crypt roof. It hung, dangling, down toward the graveyard below.

Like our dream, but in reverse.

I hadn’t fallen through his arms. He was ripped from mine.

Below the crypt, I reached up, pushing aside flame and smoke, until my fingers interlocked with Ethan’s. I was standing on my toes, but I could barely reach him.

Ethan, I love you. Don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.

If there was moonlight, I could have seen his face. But there was no moon, not now, and the only light came from the fire, still frozen, surrounding me on every side. The sky was empty, absolutely black. There was nothing. I had lost everything tonight.

I sobbed until I couldn’t breathe and my fingers slipped through his, knowing I would never feel those fingers in my hair again.

Ethan.

I wanted to scream out his name even though no one would hear me, but I didn’t have a scream left in me. I had nothing left, except those words. I remembered the words from the visions. I remembered every one of them.

Blood of my heart.

Life of my life.

Body of my body.

Soul of my soul.

“Don’t do this, Lena Duchannes. Don’t you mess with that Book a Moons and start this darkness all over again.” I opened my eyes. Amma stood next to me, in the fire. The world around us was still frozen.

I looked at Amma. “Did the Greats do this?”

“No, child. This is your doin’. The Greats just helped me come along.”

“How could I have done this?”

She sat down next to me, in the dirt. “You still don’t know what you’re capable of, do you? Melchiz-edek was right about that, at least.”

“Amma, what are you talking about?”

“I always told Ethan he might pick a hole in the sky one day. But I reckon you’re the one who did that.”

I tried to wipe the tears off my face, but more just kept coming. When they reached my lips, I could taste the soot in my mouth. “Am I—Am I Dark?”

“Not yet, not now.”

“Am I Light?”

“No. Can’t say you’re that, either.”

I looked up in the sky. The smoke covered everything—the trees, the sky, and where there should have been a moon and stars, there was only a thick black blanket of nothing. Ash and fire and smoke and nothing.

“Amma.”

“Yes?”

“Where’s the moon?”

“Well if you don’t know, child, I sure don’t. One minute I was lookin’ up at your Sixteenth Moon. And you were standin’ under it, starin’ up at the stars like only God in Heaven could help you, palms raised like you was holdin’ up the sky. Then, nothin’. Just this.”

“What about the Claiming?”

She paused, considering. “Well, I don’t know what happens when there’s no Moon on your birthday on the Sixteenth Year, at midnight. It’s never happened before, far as I know. Seems to me there can’t be a Claimin’, if there’s no Sixteenth Moon.”

I should have felt relief, joy, confusion. But all I could feel was pain. “Is it over, then?”

“Don’t know.” She held out her hand and pulled me up, until we were both standing. Her hand was warm and strong, and I felt clear-headed. Like we both knew what I was going to do. Just as, I suspect, Ivy had known what Genevieve would do, on this spot, more than a hundred years ago.

As we opened the cracked cover of the Book, I knew immediately which page to turn to, as if I had known all along.

“You know it’s not natural. And you know there’s bound to be consequences.”

“I know.”

“And you know there’s no guarantee it’ll work. It didn’t turn out so well the last time. But I can tell you this: I’ve got my great-great-aunt Ivy downtown with the Greats, and they’ll help us if they can.”

“Amma. Please. I don’t have a choice.”

She looked into my eyes. Finally, she nodded. “I know there’s nothin’ I can say that’ll keep you from doin’ it. Because you love my boy. And because I love my boy, I’m goin’ to help you.”

I looked at her and I understood. “Which is why you brought The Book of Moons here tonight.”

Amma nodded, slowly. She reached toward my neck with her hand, and pulled the necklace holding the ring out from inside Ethan’s Jackson High sweatshirt, which I still was wearing. “This was Lila’s ring. He had to love you somethin’ fierce to give it to you.”

Ethan, I love you.

“Love is a powerful thing, Lena Duchannes. A mother’s love, that’s not somethin’ to be trifled with. Seems to me, Lila’s been tryin’ to help out, as best she could.”

She ripped the ring off my neck. Where the chain broke, I could feel a mark, cutting into my skin. She slipped the ring on my middle finger. “Lila would’ve liked you. You have the one thing Genevieve never had when she used the Book. The love a two families.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the cool metal against my skin. “I hope you’re right.”

“Wait.” Amma reached down and pulled Genevieve’s locket, still wrapped in her family handkerchief, out of Ethan’s pocket. “Just to remind everyone that you’ve already got the curse.” She sighed uneasily. “Don’t want to be tried twice for the same crime.”

She laid the locket on the Book. “This time we make it right.”

Then she took the well-worn charm off her own neck, and laid it on the Book, next to the locket. The small gold disc looked almost like a coin, the image faded with wear and time. “To remind everyone, if they’re messin’ with my boy, they’re messin’ with me.”

She closed her eyes. I closed mine. I touched the pages with my hands, and began to chant—at first slowly, then louder and louder.

“CRUOR PECTORIS MEI, TUTELA TUA EST.

VITA VITAE MEAE, CORRIPIENS TUAM, CORRIPIENS MEAM.”

I spoke the words with confidence. A certain confidence that only comes from truly not caring whether you live or die.

“CORPUS CORPORIS MEI, MEDULLA MENSQUE,

ANIMA ANIMAE MEAE, ANIMAM NOSTRAM CONECTE.”

I called out the words to the frozen landscape, though there was nobody but Amma to hear them.

“CRUOR PECTORIS MEI, LUNA MEA, AESTUS MEUS.

CRUOR PECTORIS MEI. FATUM MEUM, MEA SALUS.”

Amma reached for me, taking my trembling hands in her strong ones, and we spoke the Cast again, together. This time we spoke in the language of Ethan and his mother, Lila, of Uncle Macon and Aunt Del and Amma and Link and little Ryan and everyone who loved Ethan, and who loved us. This time, what we spoke became a song.

A love song—to Ethan Lawson Wate, from the two people who loved him most. And would miss him the most, if we failed.

BLOOD OF MY HEART, PROTECTION IS THINE.

LIFE OF MY LIFE, TAKING YOURS, TAKING MINE.

BODY OF MY BODY, MARROW AND MIND,

SOUL OF MY SOUL, TO OUR SPIRIT BIND.

BLOOD OF MY HEART, MY TIDES, MY MOON.

BLOOD OF MY HEART. MY SALVATION, MY DOOM.

Lightning struck me, the Book, the crypt, and Amma. At least, that’s what I thought had happened. But then, I remember it feeling that way to Genevieve, too, in the visions. Amma was thrown back against the wall of the crypt, her head knocking against the stone.

I felt the electricity course through my body and relaxed into it, accepting the fact that if I died, at least I would be with Ethan. I felt him, how near he was to me, how much I loved him. I felt the ring, burning on my finger, how much he loved me.

I felt my eyes burning, and everywhere I looked, I saw a haze of golden light, as if it were coming from me somehow.

I heard Amma whisper. “My boy.”

I turned toward Ethan. He was bathed in gold light, just like everything else. He was still motionless. I looked at Amma in panic. “It didn’t work.”

She leaned against the stone altar, closing her eyes.

I screamed, “It didn’t work!”

I stumbled away from the Book, into the mud. I looked up. The moon was there again. I raised my arms above my head, toward the heavens. Heat burned through my veins where there should have been blood. The anger welled inside me, with nowhere to go. I could feel it eating away at me. I knew if I didn’t find a way to release it, it would destroy me.

Hunting. Larkin. Sarafine.

The predator, the coward, and my murderous mother, who lived to destroy her own child. The gnarled branches of my Caster family tree.

How could I Claim myself when they had already claimed the only thing that mattered to me? The heat surged up through my hands, as if it had a will of its own. Lightning streaked across the sky. I knew where it was going even before it hit.

Three points on a compass, with no North to guide me.

The lightning exploded into flame, striking its three targets simultaneously—the ones who had taken everything from me tonight. I should have wanted to look away, but I didn’t. The statue that had been my mother a moment before was strangely beautiful, engulfed in flame, in the moonlight.

I lowered my arms, wiping the dirt and ash and grief from my eyes, but when I looked back she was gone.

They were all gone.

The rain began to fall, and my blurred vision sharpened until I could see the sheets of rain hitting the smoking oaks, the fields, the thickets. I could see clearly for the first time in a long time, maybe ever. I made my way back toward the crypt, toward Ethan.

But Ethan was gone.

Where Ethan’s body had been lying moments before, now there was someone else. Uncle Macon.

I didn’t understand. I turned to Amma for answers. Her eyes were enormous, frightened. “Amma, where’s Ethan? What happened?”

But she didn’t answer me. For the first time ever, Amma was speechless. She was staring at Uncle Macon’s body, dazed. “Never thought it would end like this, Melchizedek. After all those years, holdin’ the weight a the world on our shoulders together.” She was talking to him as if he could hear her, even though her voice was tinier than I had ever heard it. “How am I gonna hold it up on my own?”

I grabbed her shoulders, her sharp bones digging into my palms. “Amma, what’s going on?”

She raised her eyes to meet mine, her voice barely a whisper. “You can’t get somethin’ from the Book, without givin’ somethin’ in return.” A tear rolled down her wrinkled cheek.

It couldn’t be true. I knelt next to Uncle Macon and slowly reached out to touch his perfectly shaven face. Usually, I would find the misleading warmth associated with a human being, fueled by the energy of the hopes and dreams of Mortals, but not today. Today, his skin was ice cold. Like Ridley’s. Like the dead.

Without giving something in return.

“No… please no.” I had killed Uncle Macon. And I hadn’t even Claimed myself. I hadn’t even chosen to go Light, and I had still killed him.

The rage began to well up inside me again, the wind whipping up around us, swirling and churning like my emotions. It was beginning to feel familiar, like an old friend. The Book had made some kind of horrible trade, one I didn’t ask for. Then I realized.

A trade.

If Uncle Macon was here, where Ethan had been lying dead, could that mean that maybe Ethan was out there alive?

I was on my feet, running toward the crypt. The frozen landscape tinted in that golden light. I could see Ethan, lying in the grass in the distance next to Boo, where Uncle Macon had been just moments ago. I made my way over to him. I reached for Ethan’s hand, but it was cold. Ethan was still dead and now Uncle Macon was gone, too.

What had I done? I had lost them both. Kneeling in the mud, I buried my head in Ethan’s chest and wept. I held his hand against my cheek. I thought of all the times he had refused to accept my fate, refused to give up, to say good-bye.

Now it was my turn. “I won’t say good-bye. I won’t say it.” It had come to this, just a whisper in a field of smoldering weeds.

Then I felt it. Ethan’s fingers began to curl and uncurl, searching for mine.

L?

I could barely hear him. I smiled as I cried, and kissed the palm of his hand.

Are you there, Lena Beana?

I laced my fingers through his, and swore I would never let them go. I held up my face and let the rain fall upon it, washing away the soot.

I’m here.

Don’t go.

I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.