“Tiffany has grit, Scarlett,” Dahlia countered. “And she needs your strength right now.”
“We need to save her, Dahlia.”
“And we will. But if this person’s looking for the Henosis . . . well. We all remember what happened to Evelyn Waters. We need to be careful, Scar. If anything goes wrong . . .”
“Then together we’ll be strong enough to beat it,” Scarlett replied, sounding far more confident than she felt. They would have to be strong if they were going to find her best friend.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Vivi
The rain landing on the greenhouse’s roof sounded like thousands of sharp-beaked birds trying to smash through the glass. It was still hours before dawn and pitch-black outside, with heavy storm clouds shrouding the stars. But although most of the Ravens had just been roused from sleep, there was nothing drowsy about their expressions as they stood holding hands in a circle ringed with white taper candles. Some of the girls looked frightened, some angry, but most of the older girls looked stony and fierce, gathering the strength and focus they’d need for the task at hand—finding Tiffany.
Vivi stood next to Ariana, who was gripping Vivi’s hand so tightly, it made her bones ache.
“Just a few hours ago we were in this room and she was teaching me how to perfect minor arcana skills. And now she’s . . . gone,” Ariana said, holding back tears.
“She’s not gone—she just needs to be found,” Vivi said firmly.
Tiffany was Ariana’s Big and the two had grown close during the rush process. But Ariana’s distress couldn’t compare to that of Vivi’s own Big, who was standing across the circle, trembling visibly as she watched Juliet light the candles.
Vivi wished someone would enchant the candles to provide more light, as the flames did little to illuminate the darkness beyond the walls of the greenhouse. Although she was surrounded by a coven of powerful witches, she still felt exposed and vulnerable standing next to the glass wall. Someone had managed to gain entry to Kappa House despite its myriad magical protections. And that meant whoever it was could do it again. Was this what her mother had foreseen weeks ago? Or was there still more—something worse—yet to come?
The decision not to go to the police worried her. She understood Dahlia’s reasoning for following the instructions in the note. Plus, whoever had taken Tiffany had done so by employing wicked magic, rendering the police pretty much useless. But a girl was missing and her kidnapper was still out there. Someone who’d promised to come back for more Ravens.
Dahlia moved into the center of the circle and knelt to examine a cauldron Etta had filled with a brew of red wine made from grapes that grew wild in a graveyard in Burgundy, mugwort, and cedar to enhance visions.
“Sisters,” Dahlia said as she stood back up. “Join me.”
The girls moved in until they’d packed themselves as tight and close to Dahlia as they could. Overhead, the storm battered the windows with frenzied abandon.
“Tonight, we seek she who has been stolen from us.” Dahlia raised her hand, revealing something clutched in her fist. Vivi’s stomach lurched. It was a torn shred of Tiffany’s bedspread, parts of the white satin stained almost black with dried blood. “We seek news of our sister—of who did this to her and whether she is still in danger.”
Dahlia opened her fist and let the fabric flutter down into the cauldron; the unstained portions of the material turned dark red as the wine seeped into the satin.
The other girls began to hum, and Vivi felt the telltale throb of energy in her chest. For the first time, she was afraid to let it spread through her body. She’d seen the ugly side of magic tonight, and she wasn’t eager to open herself up to something that could be so dangerous. But as she clutched Ariana’s hand, Vivi reminded herself that finding Tiffany was worth every risk.
“I call to all the Queens, ancient as the dawn,” Dahlia whispered. “Show us the sister who is missing and gone.”
The rain picked up and the humming was nearly drowned out by the shriek of the wind rattling the glass panes of the greenhouse. Then the cauldron began to glow from within as the liquid started to bubble and boil; the dark red-wine mixture turned thick and black as tar. An image appeared on the uneven surface, and although the face was distorted by the rippling liquid, there was no doubt who it was.
Scarlett let out an anguished cry at the sight of her best friend. Bright red scratches raked down both sides of Tiffany’s face, bloody streaks from her temples to her chin. Her mouth was gagged, her eyes wide with fear as she struggled against some kind of invisible bond.
“Oh my God,” Ariana whispered as tears began to stream down her face. “We have to help her. Now.”
“Show us who did this,” Dahlia commanded, an edge of desperation in her deep, sonorous voice.
A plume of smoke rose out of the cauldron, and a pungent, rotten stench hit Vivi with the force of a wave. She covered her face and stumbled back while a few of the other girls gagged.
The smoke grew thicker until, with a sound like eardrums popping, the cauldron exploded, showering a portion of the circle with scalding liquid. Dahlia yelped and winced as she muttered a healing spell; next to her, Mei did the same for Jess, who was clutching her wrist, her face contorted in pain. Vivi turned around to help Hazel and Reagan extinguish the candles that had tipped over and now threatened to set some of the drier plants alight. “What was that?” Vivi asked once the candles had been snuffed out.
“That,” Dahlia replied, her hoarse voice sounding in the darkness, “was wicked magic.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Scarlett
“Tiffany, wherever you are . . . we’re coming for you . . .”
Scarlett stared at the bright morning light filtering through her balcony doors. She’d locked them tight when she returned to her room after they’d cast the spell. Or tried to cast it, rather. Dahlia was right—wicked magic had interfered with the spellcasting, just as it had when Scarlett had tried to divine Gwen’s intentions.
In her arms she held the stuffed elephant from the antiques shop. It was missing a leg. She could have fixed it with a simple glamour, but both she and Tiffany liked it just as it was, loved so much it was practically disintegrating. She wished there were a spell she could cast on it that would lead her to Tiffany. But because the spell last night hadn’t worked, Scarlett didn’t know what would. Whoever had taken Tiffany had erected a strong, protective wall of magic around both of them—one that even the Ravens couldn’t penetrate.
Mei was asleep in Scarlett’s bed; neither girl had wanted to sleep alone. Not after what happened to Tiffany. Every time Scarlett closed her eyes, she saw it. Bright red spray across the wallpaper. Blood everywhere. There had been so much that it was hard to believe that Tiffany was still alive, even after the spell had said she was.
And now they had to find some mystical talisman that might not even exist. Scarlett had no idea where to begin to look. All she knew was that witches were in danger.
And it was all her fault.
Whatever you put out in the world came back to you threefold. And what she and Tiffany had done in their freshman year—what they’d hidden for so long—had finally caught up with them. And now Tiffany might pay for it with her life.