But my story had found its way to me through all of them. Now, at the end of what seemed like a lifetime in the darkness and confusion of the Tunnels, I knew what to do. I knew my part.
Marian was right. I was the Wayward. It was my job to find what was lost.
Who was lost.
I rolled the Arclight to my fingertips and released it. The stone hung in the air.
“What the—” Link staggered closer.
I pulled the folded yellowed page out of my back pocket. The one I had ripped from my mother’s journal and carried all this way, without a reason. Or so I thought.
The Arclight cast a silver light around the cave as it hovered. I stepped closer to it and held up the paper so I could speak the Cast from the page of my mother’s journal, even though it was in Latin. I pronounced the words carefully.
“In Luce Caecae Caligines sunt,
Et in Caliginibus, Lux.
In Arcu imperium est,
Et in imperio, Nox.”
“Of course,” Liv whispered, moving closer to the light. “The Cast. Ob Lucem Libertas. Freedom in Light.” Liv looked at me. “Finish it.”
I turned the paper over. There was nothing on the other side.
“That’s all there is.”
Liv’s eyes widened. “You can’t leave it undone. It’s incredibly dangerous. The power of an Arclight, let alone a Ravenwood Arclight, it could kill us. It could kill…”
“You have to do it.”
“I can’t, Ethan. You know I can’t.”
“Liv. Lena’s going to die—you, me, Link, Ridley—we all are. We’ve come as far as Mortals can go. We can’t do the rest alone.” I put my hand on her shoulder.
“Ethan.” She whispered my name, just my name, but I heard the words she couldn’t say almost as clearly as I heard Lena’s voice when we Kelted. Liv and I had a connection all our own. It wasn’t magic. It was something very human, and very real. Liv might not like what had unfolded between us, but she understood it. She understood me, and a part of me believed she always would. I wished things could have been different, that Liv could have everything she wanted at the end of all this. The things that had nothing to do with lost stars and Caster skies. But Liv wasn’t where my road was taking me. She was part of the path itself.
She looked past me to the Arclight, still glowing in front of us. Her silhouette was framed in light so bright it looked like she was standing in front of the sun. She reached for the Arclight, and I remembered my dream, the dream of Lena reaching out to me from the darkness.
Two girls who were as different as the sun and the moon. Without one, I could never have found my way back to the other.
In Light there is Dark, and in Dark there is Light.
Liv touched the Arclight with a single finger and began to speak.
“In Illo qui Vinctus est,
Libertas Patefacietur.
Spirate denuo, Caligines.
E Luce exi.”
She was crying, watching the ball of light as tears streaked down the sides of her face. She forced out every word, as if they were being etched into her, but she didn’t stop.
“In the One who is Bound
Freedom will be Found.
Live again, Darkness,
Come out of the Light.”
Liv’s voice faltered. She closed her eyes and spoke the final words slowly into the night between us.
“Come out. Come—”
The words broke off. She held her hand out to me, and I took it. Link limped over to us, and Ridley clutched his arm on the other side. Liv’s entire body was shaking. With every word, she was falling farther from her sacred duty and her dream. She had taken a side. She had Cast herself into the story that was only hers to Keep. When this was over, if we survived, Liv would no longer be a Keeper-in-Training. Her sacrifice was her gift, the one thing that gave her life meaning.
I couldn’t imagine how that would feel.
We became four voices. There was no turning back.
“E Luce exi! Come out of the Light!”
The blast was so cataclysmic, the rock beneath my feet shot into the wall behind me. All four of us were thrown to the ground. I could taste the wet sand and the saltwater in my mouth, but I knew. My mom had tried to tell me, but I hadn’t been able to hear.
In the cave, framed by rock and moss and sea and sand, was a being made of nothing more than a mist of shadow and light. At first, I could see the rocks behind it, as if it was an apparition. The water washed through it, and it didn’t touch the ground.
Then the light stretched into a shape, the shape into a form, the form into a man. His hands became hands, his body became a body, and his face, a face.
Macon’s face.
I heard my mother’s words. He’s with you now.
Macon opened his eyes and looked at me. Only you can redeem him.
He was dressed in the burnt clothes from the night he died. Only something was different.
His eyes were green.
Caster green.
“It’s good to see you, Mr. Wate.”
6.20
Flesh and Blood
Macon!”
It was all I could do not to fling my arms around him. He, on the other hand, looked at me calmly, brushing off some of the burnt grit from his dinner jacket. His eyes were unsettling. I was used to the glassy black eyes of Macon Ravenwood the Incubus, the eyes that regarded you with nothing but your own reflection. Now he was standing in front of me, as green-eyed as any Light Caster. Ridley stared, but didn’t utter a sound. It wasn’t often you saw Ridley speechless.
“Much obliged, Mr. Wate. Much obliged.” Macon rolled his neck back and forth, uncoiling his arms, as if he was waking up from a long nap.
I bent down and picked up the Arclight, lying in the sandy dirt. “I was right. You were in the Arclight all along.” I thought about how many times I’d held it in my hand and relied on it to guide me. How familiar the warmth of the stone had felt.
Link was having trouble coming to grips with the idea that Macon was alive, too. Without thinking, he reached out to touch him. Macon’s hand flew up and grabbed Link’s arm. Link flinched. “So sorry, Mr. Lincoln. I’m afraid my reflexes are a bit—reflexive. I haven’t gotten out much lately.”
Link rubbed his arm. “You didn’t have to do that, Mr. Ravenwood. I just wanted, you know, I thought you were—”
“What? A Sheer? A Vex, perhaps?”
Link shivered. “You tell me, sir.”
Macon extended his arm. “Go ahead, then. Be my guest.”
Link stuck out his hand tentatively, as if he was about to hold it over a candle on a birthday dare. His finger came within a millimeter of Macon’s ragged jacket and stopped.
Macon sighed, rolling his eyes, and tapped Link’s hand against his chest. “See? Flesh and blood. Something we have in common now, Mr. Lincoln.”
“Uncle Macon?” Ridley crept up to him, finally ready to face him. “Is it really you?”
He looked deep into her blue eyes. “You’ve lost your powers.”
She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. “So have you.”
“Some of them, yes, but I suspect I’ve gained others.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “It’s impossible to tell. I’m still in the midst of it.” He smiled. “Sort of like being a teenager. Twice.”
“But your eyes are green.”
Macon shook his head, flexing his hands. “True. My life as an Incubus is over, but the Transition is not complete. Although my eyes are those of a Light Caster, I can still feel Darkness within me. It has not been fully exorcised, yet.”
“I’m not Transitioning. I’m nothing, a Mortal.” She said the word like it was a curse, and the sadness in her voice was real. “I don’t have a place in the Order of Things anymore.”
“You’re alive.”
“I don’t feel like myself. I’m powerless.”
Macon weighed this in his mind, as if he was trying to determine her pr
esent state as much as she was. “You may be in the midst of a Transition of your own, unless this is one of my sister’s more impressive tricks.”
Ridley’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean my powers might come back?”
Macon studied her blue eyes. “I think Sarafine is too cruel for that. I only meant that you might not be fully Mortal yet. Darkness does not leave us as easily as we would hope.” Macon pulled her awkwardly to his chest, and she buried her face in his jacket, like a twelve-year-old. “It’s not easy to be Light when you’ve been Dark. It’s almost too much to ask of anyone.”
I tried to quiet the torrent of questions racing through my mind, and settled for the first. “How?”
Macon turned from Ridley, his green eyes burning into me with their newfound light. “Could you be more specific, Mr. Wate? How am I not resting in twenty-seven thousand distinct fragments of ash in an urn within the Ravenwood family vault? How am I not rotting under a lemon tree in the sodden prestige of His Garden of Perpetual Peace? How did I come to find myself imprisoned in a small crystalline ball in your grimy pocket?”
“Two,” I said without thinking.
“I beg your pardon?”
“There are two lemon trees over your grave.”
“How very generous. One would have sufficed.” Macon smiled tiredly, which was pretty remarkable, considering he’d spent four months in a supernatural prison the size of an egg. “Or are you perhaps wondering how is it that I died and you lived? Because I have to tell you, as far as hows go, that’s a story your neighbors on Cotton Bend would be talking about for a lifetime.”
“Except you didn’t, sir. Die, I mean.”
“You are correct, Mr. Wate. I am, and have always been, very much alive. In a manner of speaking.”
Liv stepped forward tentatively. Even though she would probably never become a Keeper now, there was still a Keeper inside her seeking answers. “Mr. Ravenwood, may I ask you a question, sir?”
Macon tilted his head slightly. “Who might you be, dear? I imagine it was your voice I heard calling me from the Arclight.”
Liv blushed. “It was, sir. My name is Olivia Durand, and I was training with Professor Ashcroft. Before…” Her voice dwindled.
“Before you Cast the Ob Lucem Libertas?”
Liv nodded, ashamed. Macon looked pained, then smiled at her. “Then you gave up a great deal to save me, Miss Olivia Durand. I am in your debt, and, as I always repay my debts, I would be honored to answer a question. At the very least.” Even after being trapped all those months, Macon was still a gentleman.
“Obviously, I know how you got out of the Arclight, but how did you get in? It’s impossible for an Incubus to imprison himself, especially when, by all accounts, you were dead.” Liv was right. He couldn’t have done it alone. Someone had to have helped him, and the minute the ball released him, I knew who it was.
It was the one person we both loved as much as Lena, even in death.
My mother—who had loved books and old things, nonconformity and history and complexity. Who had loved Macon so much she walked away when he asked her to, even though she couldn’t bear to leave him. Even though a part of her never had.
“It was her, wasn’t it?”
Macon nodded. “Your mother was the only one who knew about the Arclight. I gave it to her. Any Incubus would have killed her to destroy it. It was our secret, one of our last.”
“Did you see her?” I looked out at the sea, blinking hard.
Macon’s expression changed. I could see the pain in his face. “Yes.”
“Did she seem…” What? Happy? Dead? Herself?
“Beautiful as ever, your mother. Beautiful as the day she left us.”
“I saw her, too.” I thought about Bonaventure Cemetery and felt the familiar knot in my throat.
“But how is that possible?” Liv wasn’t trying to challenge him, but she didn’t understand. None of us did.
Macon’s face was full of grief. It wasn’t any easier for him to talk about my mom than it was for me. “I think you’ll find the impossible is possible more often than we think, particularly in the Caster world. But if you would care to take one last trip with me, I can show you.” He opened his hand to me, offering Liv the other. Ridley stepped forward and closed her hand around mine, and hesitantly Link limped over, completing the circle.
Macon looked over at me, and before I could read his expression, the air was filled with smoke—
Macon tried to hold on, but he was blacking out. He could see the ebony sky above him, streaked with orange flames. He couldn’t see Hunting as he fed, but he could feel his brother’s teeth in his shoulder. When Hunting had his fill, he let Macon’s body drop to the ground.
When Macon opened his eyes again, Lena’s grandmother, Emmaline, was kneeling over him. He could feel the heat of her healing power as it coursed through his body. Ethan was there, too. Macon tried to speak, but he didn’t know if they could hear him. Find Lena, that’s what he wanted to say. Ethan must have heard him, because he took off into the smoke and fire.
The boy was so much like Amarie, so stubborn and fearless. He was so much like his mother, loyal and honest, and bound for the heartbreak that came from loving a Caster. Macon was still thinking about Jane when his mind faded.
When Macon opened his eyes again, the fire was gone. The smoke, the roaring of flames and ammunition—it was all gone. He felt himself drifting in the darkness. It wasn’t like Traveling. This void had weight. It was pulling him through. Yet when he reached out, he could see that his hand was hazy, only partially materialized.
He was dead.
Lena must have made the Choice. She had chosen to go Light. Even in the darkness, knowing the fate of an Incubus in the Otherworld, a sense of calm washed over him. It was finished.
“Not yet. Not for you.”
Macon turned, recognizing her voice immediately. Lila Jane. She was luminous in the abyss, shimmering and beautiful. “Janie. There’s so much I have to tell you.”
Jane shook her head, her brown hair falling over her shoulder. “There’s no time.”
“There’s nothing but time.”
Jane stretched out her hand, her fingers glimmering. “Take my hand.”
As soon as Macon touched her, the darkness began to bleed into colors and light. He could see images, familiar shapes and forms swimming around him, but he couldn’t anchor them. Then he realized where they were. The archive, Jane’s special place.
“Jane, what’s happening?” He saw her reach out, but everything was blurry and unclear. Then he heard the words, the words he had taught her.
“In these walls with no time or space, I Bind your body and from this Earth erase.”
There was something in her hand. The Arclight. “Jane, don’t do it! I want to be here with you.”
She was floating before him, already beginning to fade. “I promised if the time came, I would use it. I’m keeping my promise. You can’t die. They need you.” She was gone now, a voice, nothing else. “My son needs you.”
Macon tried to tell her everything he had failed to say in life, but it was too late. He could feel the pull of the Arclight already, impossible to break. As he spun into the abyss, he heard her seal his fate.
“Comprehende, Liga, Cruci Fige.
Capture, Cage, and Crucify.”
Macon dropped my hand, and the vision released us. I held it in my mind, unable to let her go. My mom had saved him, using the weapon Macon had given her to use against him. She had given up the chance for them to finally be together, because of me. Had she known he was our only chance?
When I opened my eyes, Liv was crying, and Ridley was trying to pretend she wasn’t. “Oh, please. Enough with the drama.” A tear leaked onto her cheek.
Liv wiped her eyes, sniffling. “I had no idea a Sheer was capable of anything like that.”
“You would be surprised what we are capable of when the situation warrants it.” Macon clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Isn’t
that right, Mr. Wate?”
I knew he was trying to thank me. But as I looked around our broken circle, I didn’t feel like I deserved thanks. Ridley had lost her powers, Link was wincing in pain, and Liv had destroyed her future. “I didn’t do anything.”
Macon’s hand tightened on my shoulder, forcing me to face him. “You made yourself see what most would have overlooked. You brought me here; you brought me back. You accepted your fate as a Wayward and found the way here. None of that could have been easy.” He looked around the cave at Ridley, Link, and Liv. His eyes lingered a moment on Liv, and then his eyes locked on mine. “For anyone.”
Including Lena.
I almost couldn’t stand to tell him, but I wasn’t sure if he knew. “Lena thinks she killed you.”
Macon didn’t speak for a second, but when he did, his voice was even and controlled. “Why would she think that?”
“Sarafine stabbed me that night, but you died. Amma told me. But Lena can’t forgive herself, and it’s… changed her.” I wasn’t making sense, but there was so much Macon needed to know. “I think she may have made a choice in her heart without realizing it.”
“She didn’t.” Macon dismissed me.
“It was The Book of Moons, Mr. Ravenwood.” Liv couldn’t help herself. “Lena was desperate to save Ethan, and she used the Book. It made a trade, your life for his. Lena had no way of knowing what would happen. The Book can’t be properly controlled, which is why it’s not meant to be kept in Caster hands.” Liv sounded even more like a Caster librarian than usual.
Macon tilted his head slightly. “I see. Olivia?”
“Yes, sir?”
“With all due respect, we’ve no time for a Keeper. This day will require certain actions best left unkept. At the very least, untold. Do you understand?”
Liv nodded. Her expression said she understood more than he knew.
“She’s not a Keeper, not anymore.” Liv had saved his life and destroyed her own in the process. She deserved Macon’s respect, at the very least.
“Not likely, after this,” she sighed.