Belanor tugged at his sleeves and stepped over it, his focus still on me. The intensity of that look said everything I needed to know—if I wouldn’t go with Belanor willingly, he’d take me by force. Again.
I whirled, making the rug twist beneath me, and I scrabbled at the couch for balance as I ran. Belanor followed at a leisurely pace, his eyes gleaming like an animal on the hunt. I flew past all the bedrooms. My ragged breathing was loud in my ears. I slammed into the door that led downstairs, fumbling for the knob with sweaty palms, and I wrenched it open just as Belanor turned the corner and appeared at the end of the hall.
I thundered down the narrow steps and burst into the basement. It was dim and quiet, the spot where Finn had been lying chained empty. I was about to rush toward the window when Belanor materialized. A startled sound burst from my lips and I froze.
“Where will you go now, little mouse?” the faerie asked, sounding genuinely curious. I backed away with wide eyes, my hands clenching and unclenching, as if I could summon a weapon by sheer will. Belanor’s gaze flicked down, seeing this, and he smiled. We both knew I was at his mercy. He pursued me deeper into the room, emanating a smug sort of anticipation, like a cat batting its prey around before closing in for the kill.
My terror fell away like a layer of snow. I straightened and looked at Belanor coldly.
He saw the change in me. A line deepened between his brows. The king started forward…
…and slammed face-first into an invisible wall. I smirked as Belanor reeled back, blood spurting from his nose. His hand rose to staunch the flow, and his eyes rose to mine again, dark with fury.
Behind me, I sensed Laurie emerge from the darkness. “Hello, brother,” he crooned.
Belanor laughed. “This is your grand trick? Trapping me in a chalk circle with my weak, simpering twin?”
“Actually,” Laurie drawled, “I’m just here for the show. And to provide moral support, of course. I am a selfless creature, after all.”
At the same time Belanor started to respond, Collith appeared on my other side. The gap in his neck already healed, but there was a smear of blood left behind. Seeing that, Belanor went utterly still, his gaze darting between us.
The plan had been simple, really.
In order to get Belanor to the basement, where the new chalk circle awaited, I knew he would need to believe my fear was real. He had to think I’d lost control. Seeing my brother killed would certainly do that. I’d also been worried about the knife Belanor used to do it, the second gamble of the evening—that part had involved relying on Peeks, and trusting he would get close enough to switch out the blade Belanor always kept on his person—but it was a risk Collith had been willing to take when we talked about the possibility of Peeks failing.
“The real trick was figuring out how to get your cowardly ass out of that palace,” I told Belanor, keeping my voice level. “We figured you wouldn’t be reasonable once you got here, so we had a witch of our own alter the confinement spell, specifically tailor it for you by using strands of your hair as she casted. You can go in, but you can’t come back out. Now, before we proceed, you’re going to tell me why your spell is so important. What does it do?”
Belanor tilted his head. He was pretending to be completely unbothered by this turn of events, but I knew he had to be a little worried. Still, there was nothing beyond curiosity in his voice when he asked, “Where’s the werewolf?”
I flapped my hand in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, I took care of it—got rid of the demon myself. I didn’t need your miserable ass for anything. We honestly lured you here to get some answers, and to help you, of course.”
“Help me?” Belanor restated. Now his expression held a little more than curiosity. “How? How did you save the host?”
His question sent my mind back to that morning. It had all started when Laurie and I started off toward the woods.
“I could never,” I told the faerie at my side, squeezing his arm. He smiled but said nothing. I knew he was waiting for me to go on. Laurie had a lot riding on the outcome of tonight, as well.
Sunlight streamed through the tree branches overhead. It warmed my skin as I told him where we were going. I also outlined the rest of my idea for how to defeat Belanor. Laurie asked a question now and then, his expression focused. When I was finished, he improved upon what I’d said with some suggestions of his own.
“This can work,” Laurie remarked a few minutes later.
His tone made my heart pound. “This can work,” I agreed.
After an hour or two, we arrived at a river. The river that my entire plan hinged upon. A crow swooped overhead, cawing loudly. Laurie hung back, as we’d agreed upon when I explained my plan to him. I knelt at the water’s edge and took slow, even breaths. The mud was frozen, mostly, but the cold still crept through my knee. Remembering what every second cost Finn, I stopped wasting time and cut the fleshy part of my hand with Dad’s knife. I clenched it into a shaking fist and sent drops of blood down the current. Once the bleeding slowed, I looked back at Laurie and gave him a thumb’s up, indicating that phase one was done.
We waited an hour. Laurie was starting to fidget when the kelpie arrived. The kelpie that I should have thought of days ago when Finn had first collapsed.
Its voice sounded in my head. Nightmare. Have you come to settle our debt? it asked me.
Laurie didn’t react, and I knew he couldn’t hear it. But he saw it—his eyes narrowed and his fingers twitched, as if he wanted to reach for his sword. I didn’t blame him. The creature emerging from the water was disconcerting, to say the least. There were fins where pointed ears would be on a horse, and it had a scaly hide instead of a lovely coat. Through strands of black hair, the creature’s eyes were white and unseeing. The rest of its body was dark as the Witching Hour.
Like the last time I’d interacted with this creature, its presence inside my skull was painful. “Yes. I need an exorcism spell,” I told it, flinching.
The kelpie went silent, and there was a slight pressure on the air. I felt the prickle of magic. Check your pocket, it said after an extended pause.
Could it really be this easy? Deafened by my rapid heartbeat, I moved to obey. My fingers slid along the edge of something small. I pulled it into the open and discovered that I held a delicate roll of paper. I unrolled it carefully. There was a column of faded writing, and the messy scrawl was nearly impossible to read. It looked like a page from a witch’s spellbook—even the edge was uneven, as if it had been torn free from its binding.
They are Words, the kelpie informed me. I see you recognize them.
I did recognize them, because some of the things on this paper matched the spell I’d found in Kindreth’s journal. The one I’d used to bind Gil to me. “What are Words?” I asked, frowning.
‘He spoke and they came to be,’ the kelpie quoted. At the beginning of everything, God created the dimensions with Words. Enochian is the language of angels. Words are the language of the entity that created all of this. If you want to know more, Nightmare, it will cost you. Our debt was settled with my delivery of the spell. Shall I continue?
Kelpies didn’t have eyebrows, but at that moment, I swore this one did. I fought a wave of dislike and answered, “No. That won’t be necessary. Will I need anything else for this spell?”