I look at Xavier’s broken body and nearly choke on my own grief. “There’s nothing I can do to bring Xavier back. I would change places with him—or with any of you—in a second if I could. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“This isn’t on you,” Jaxon tells me, voice hoarse and eyes bruised with pain and exhaustion. “I pushed for this. I insisted that we come. I didn’t listen to your doubts. This is my fault. If I had just—”
“Stop it, both of you,” Macy snaps, even as she drags her hands across her face to wipe the tears away. “It’s not up to either of you to apologize. We all made the decision to come. We all knew what the risks were—probably more than Grace, as we’ve all grown up with stories of the Unkillable Beast. And we came anyway.”
Her tears keep falling, so she clears her throat several times as she, once again, wipes them away. “We flew all the way up here and attacked that poor creature, because we told ourselves we were preventing a greater atrocity. We told ourselves we were doing the right thing even though everything about it was wrong. And that, too, is on all of us.
“We play with magic our entire lives. We do spells and shift forms and even move the earth”—she looks at Jaxon—“when we want to. But the world we live in—the privileges we enjoy—come with responsibilities and consequences that we learn about in school but never truly think about until we have to.”
She looks at Xavier, and it seems like she’s going to break down completely, but then she squares her shoulders and looks everyone in the eye except me. “We—all of us—are the ones who lost sight of those lessons when we decided to come here and play God with Hudson and the beast and even with our own lives—even after my cousin begged us not to. And that’s on every single one of us; it’s something we’re going to have to live with, a lesson we are all going to agonize over for a long time to come.”
She clears her throat. “But we owe it to Xavier and to that poor gargoyle in there and to all the people back at school—all the paranormals in the world who don’t understand what the Circle has become or what it is doing—to learn from this mistake and to do whatever we must to stop them. It won’t right this wrong, it won’t fix this mistake, but it might keep others from making worse ones.”
She points at me. “And that means getting you to that Trial and getting you on the Circle and doing whatever else we need to make things better. So all of you need to stop blaming yourselves. You need to stop wallowing in guilt and sadness and anger and help me get us back to Katmere before it’s too late to stop what the Circle is trying so desperately to set in motion.”
For long seconds, none of us moves. Instead, we stand transfixed by the power and the responsibility of her words. At least until she raises an eyebrow and says, “Or do I have to do this all by myself?”
104
Because We Could
Not Stop for
Death
“We’re in,” Flint says, trying desperately to push himself back to a standing position. It’s painful to watch, at least until Jaxon rests a hand on his shoulder, then leans over and speaks quietly to him. I don’t know what he says, but Flint settles back down and doesn’t try to get up again.
“What do you need?” I ask as I scramble over to where Macy is once again kneeling in the sand.
“Give everybody a crystal and have them face north, south, east, and west respectively,” she answers, pointing in the right directions as she reads over a page in the spell book several times before closing the book with a snap and shoving it in her backpack. “Then lay the fifth crystal on Xavier’s chest.”
I do as she says, my throat tightening a little as I place the crystal in the center of Xavier’s Guns ’N’ Roses T-shirt. I whisper a quick prayer for him, then head back to Macy to see what else I can do to help.
Jaxon must have the same thought, because he asks, “What do you need from us?” as he staggers over to where we’re standing.
I grab on to his hand, send him a stream of energy through the mating bond.
“Stop,” he tells me, pulling away. “You can’t afford that right now.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t afford to have my mate get sick, either. So let me do this right now. We’ll figure out the rest when we get back to school.”
He doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t argue anymore, so I feed him a little more energy. Not enough to weaken me significantly, but enough that he doesn’t look quite so gray and pallid.
“Just stand over there, where Grace put you,” Macy answers as she slides her backpack onto her back.
“Now what?” I ask Macy as she turns to face the ocean.
“Now I’m going to try a spell Gwen told me about when I was preparing for tonight. I’ve never done it before, so all I can say is it’s either going to work and get us back to school, or it’s going to fail and splinter us into a thousand beams of light.” She looks over at me. “So here’s hoping.”
“Umm, yeah,” I answer, eyes wide and stomach flipping all the different ways. “Here’s hoping.”
She hands me one of the crystals and says, “Hold this for me, will you, please? And check to make sure everyone is where they need to be.”
“Of course.” I do as she instructs, glancing at the others before wrapping my fingers around the crystal as she pulls her athame out of her pocket instead of her wand and holds it dagger-side up. “Ready?” she asks as she grabs on to my hand.
“To splinter into a thousand beams of light?” Flint asks. “Sure. Why not?”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” she answers and then tilts her face to the sky. “Here goes everything.”
I hold my breath as Macy lifts her arms to the sky in a circular pose worthy of a ballet dancer. Her athame is in her right hand and she points it straight at the heart of the aurora borealis dancing above us as she moves her other hand in small, circular motions, over and over again.
At first nothing happens, but slowly—so slowly that it takes me a few seconds to realize what’s going on—the crystal in my hand starts to pulsate against my palm. A quick look shows me that the others’ crystals are doing the same thing, glowing brighter and brighter as they begin to vibrate in their hands.
I look to Macy, but she is so focused on the sky that she doesn’t so much as glance my way. I think that means she can’t see, so I start to lift my hand up, to show her what the crystal is doing, but a small, nearly imperceptible shake of her head has me freezing in place.
But as the crystals continue to vibrate, to glow brighter and burn hotter, Macy’s circular hand motions get bigger and bigger and bigger, until she seems to be encircling all of us with the gesture, wrapping her magic and her protection around the whole group of us even as she continues to channel energy from the sky.