I only needed the book for a day and didn't skulk around with the grimoire in my bag for weeks the way he did.
No. The spell Matt learned was more powerful than mine and he has greater skill than me. I replaced the book after learning one minor spell and wasn't tempted again.
Touching my chest where the pendant once hung, I'm aware I escaped the death Maeve saw, but guilt stabs that I'm happy about an event that led to her abduction.
We'll find them. I swear. Between lessons, I head to the library. If I had any clue where Maeve was, I wouldn't be in the academy. My powerlessness in the situation eats at me and I need to focus on helping in other ways.
Channelling my frustration in this way makes sense, but I can barely concentrate. Five minutes into an assignment and my mind wanders, and I head down to the sanctum to the other books.
An hour later, I toss a book across the library desk—yet another set of patient records. I'm now scouring them for familiar witch or shifter surnames, specifically Blackwood. I swear there's a connection just out of reach that explains Maeve's visions of fire and the noise we heard in the sanctum that day.
Nothing. No witch family names.
I've spoken to Andrei about the Blackwood estate location and he reddened with anger again, snapping back that he'd be there now if he knew. We're at a loss what to do and don't trust the Confederacy, even though Theodora assures us they're highly skilled professionals that can retrieve Maeve.
My stomach knots. What if Maeve doesn't get out alive?
My phone rests face down on the desk nearby and buzzes with a message. Reaching out and keeping my finger on the place in the new book, I glance at the screen.
Unknown contact.
Heart speeding, I swipe to open the message. A photo of Maeve.
My knotted stomach fills with bile and I can't take my eyes away. She's lying on the floor, her pallid face streaked with blood. I peer closer, unable to tell if these are injuries from a physical attack or a result of magic. My chair falls to the ground behind me as I stand, not pausing to gather my belongings before charging blindly from the library. Ash. Andrei. They need to see this. As I hurtle along the hallway to the building entrance, my phone buzzes again. Same 'unknown', but this time a message.
<Swapsies?>
I blink as bubbles appear on screen while someone types.
<Bring the grimoire and you can have her back>
Shit. Refusing to reply, I shove the phone into the back pocket of my jeans and rush out of the building. My phone buzzes again and my hand trembles as I reach into my pocket. Please don't let this be another picture.
Andrei.
<Jamie. I need to see you now. Get Ash.>
<I'm omw looking for you both>
Bloody Ash who still doesn't have a phone.
I swallow. Does Andrei have the same message? If he does, he'll lose his shit.
I cross the academy grounds at double my normal speed, towards Gilgamesh and burst inside. He isn't in the common room, so I charge along the hallway and batter on his room door.
"Ash!"
He opens the door and looks in confusion. "What the hell, man? Is there a fire?"
"No. We need to see Andrei."
I thrust the phone at him, and his confused frown turns to horror as he peers at the screen.
“What the fuck? Where is she?” he calls after me as I rush back towards the Gilgamesh exit.
"We need to find Andrei. Now."
Andrei paces around Tobias's room, his dark aura worse than usual—and understandably. Ash sits on the desk and stares forward in shock; he’s barely spoken since I showed him the image. I was correct—Andrei has the same picture and message. We both received a second message: Andrei and the grimoire in return for Maeve. Andrei’s shock switched to fury when his message was signed with love from your mother. As Andrei won't take his eyes off Maeve’s picture on his screen, I take the phone from him and shove it into my jacket.
“Don’t torture yourself, Andrei,” I say.
He swipes hair from his face. “Do you think she tortured Maeve?’
His hoarse question chills the room and nobody answers. We snuck in here ten minutes ago, hushed by shock and fear of getting caught. Ash lit a single lamp in the corner of the room and we now huddle in the half-darkness.
Ash pulls on his bottom lip and breaks the silence. “Are you sure Tobias hid the grimoire in here? Didn’t the authorities take the book after the incident with Matt?”
"He has the grimoire somewhere," I say flatly.
“If you used Blackwood magic, can’t you sense the book?” asks Andrei.
Ash straightens. “He did what?”
“Thanks, Andrei,” I mutter. “One spell, Ash. Once. I hexed the pendant in order to protect people close by and not only me. I thought we might need that at the farmhouse.”
Ash’s disgruntled look remains.
“Ash, the fact Jamie can use Blackwood spells is a good thing," says Andrei. "There must be a teleportation spell in the book, if screwing with time is their thing. Anastasia teleported Maeve and Tobias. Did you see one, Jamie?”
I rub a hand across my mouth, remembering Matt. He repeatedly used the magic and look what happened—he lost control to Blackwood energy. But I used one spell. One time. The energy won't affect me. "I didn't read the whole book, but you're probably right."
Ash jumps down from the desk. "Teleport? How the hell do we do that? How do we know where to teleport to, even if we managed the spell?" asks Ash. "Do we want to do that?"
“I can go alone,” says Andrei. “All my mother and the witches want is me and the book.”
“No!” I say sharply. “We all go.”
Andrei shrugs. “Fine. But don’t come running to me if you die.”
I shake my head at his attempt at humour. "Ash is right though; how do we know where to go?"
"If the place is in my memories, would that help?" he asks.
"Dunno. Maybe. Worth a shot," I say.
“Anything is worth a shot," says Ash. "We need to find this book and go tonight if we can,” says Ash and stands. "Before anything else happens to Maeve." He grabs one from the shelf, opens the book and frowns at the contents before tossing it onto the desk.
“Bookshelf would be too obvious,” I say. “Tobias wouldn’t leave the book in full view.”
“Bloody hell,” mutters Ash and turns 360 degrees, scanning the room. “Where, then?”
“I’m sure Jamie has an idea since he used the grimoire recently,” says Andrei, who narrows his eyes. “Where was the book when you ‘borrowed’ it?”
“In there.” I point to a wooden trunk that’s uncomfortably the size to hide a body in, the dark wood marked by age and use. A crest I don’t recognise, depicting a bird and thorns, is etched into the metal lock. Tobias’s family?
“How the hell did you open that?” asks Andrei.
“Stole the key,” I mutter.
Andrei cocks a brow. “I’m seeing a whole new side to you recently, Jamie. What did you do? Pickpocket Tobias?”
“Ha ha, no. Tobias left the keys on his desk once, and I knew one would fit the chest.”