“How?”
I rub the back of my neck and meet Andrei’s eyes. “I could sense where the book was last time.”
Ash abruptly turns. “Shit. The Blackwood magic? Like Matt could?”
“No.” I’m annoyed but worried, because this time I can’t sense the book. Because I don’t have the pendant? If that’s true, then the magic isn’t as rooted in me as I worried.
“Can you sense it now?” asks Ash cautiously.
“No.”
“Ash. Open the chest,” says Andrei. “Break the lock.”
“You can’t do that!” I exclaim.
“What? Why? Because Tobias will find out? Dude, he’s imprisoned by witches right now, remember?”
I scowl. My natural inclination to do the right thing rarely takes a back seat, but I back down. Ash digs his fingers into the lock’s hinges and rips the metal from the wood. He pushes his hands beneath the lid and the chest swings open.
I kneel beside him next to the chest and Andrei stands over to watch us.
The contents are the same as last time—half-empty, clothes, a couple of old black books with faded spines and sealed envelopes.
My mouth parches as I reach out and take the battered black leather book imprinted with the Blackwood symbol from inside. The object's dark memories try to push into my mind, but this is one object I refuse to use my psychometry on.
There’s a hushed silence in the badly lit room as I flip open the cover and turn one of the old parchment pages.
“Can you read all this?” urges Andrei as he points to a page etched with black cursive writing, the words blending together. I’ve practice studying old texts, and nod.
“You really think there’ll be a teleportation spell in there?” asks Ash doubtfully.
“I can’t be sure.”
Andrei groans and flops onto Tobias’s desk chair. “There has to be, if this is the Blackwoods' secretly guarded magic. How else will we find our way to their estate?”
“Maybe they’ll send someone for us instead?” I suggest.
Andrei laughs at me. “Like call at the academy gates? ‘Excuse me, can I take three of your students to the Blackwood estate, please’.”
My patience snaps like a rubber band hitting my temples. “Andrei, will you stop with the unhelpful sarcasm. I know you’re scared—we all are—but bloody shut up.”
Ash snorts a laugh as Andrei blinks at me, mouth parted. Pursing my lips, I switch my attention back to the book. "The pendant linked me to the Blackwood magic. Let's hope there's some energy left inside me."
Even though that's exactly what I don't want.
Chapter Thirteen
JAMIE
Last time I had the grimoire, I searched through briefly, but never focused on any spells in case I was drawn to them. Matt’s situation in Ravenhold warned me off that idea.
But this is different. This is for Maeve.
"We have to agree to take the risk. Spells can backfire, especially if incantations aren't spoken correctly." My voice shakes. "We're playing with strong magic here."
"I don't care," says Andrei in a heartbeat.
Ash nods. "Yeah. Me too. I'm more worried you won't find a spell."
The further into the book I go, the darker the ink and the more the dark brown smudges stain the corners. On a page towards the back, one of the brown marks is the shape of a fingerprint.
“Shit.” I drop the book as if the page burned me.
“Jamie?” asks Ash and cocks his head. “Did the book do that?”
I suck in a breath. “You said Maeve cut herself when Anastasia took her?”
He nods, lips tights.
I swear under my breath again. “The Blackwoods use blood magic, right?”
Andrei’s eyes widen in understanding. “You mean the spell needs blood? Whose?”
“I haven’t found the spell yet. Maybe all of us if we all want to go.”
Andrei shifts away and walks to the window. “Jamie. That’s not possible.”
“Why?” asks Ash.
“Jamie’s a witch.” Andrei’s tone is strained, and he refuses to look around. "I can’t be near his blood.”
Ash and I glance at each other. This is why I never warmed to Andrei until recently. He lacks control and is the first to admit this—he’s drank blood from humans because he couldn’t resist. Would he attack me?
Ash stands and clamps a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t know for sure. Let Jamie find the spell.”
I study the words on each page, desperate to find something that reads like a spell to help us, but the scrawl is hard to make out; I sense the others’ frustration at how slow I am.
I'm almost at the end of the book when I find a page titled Free Movement.
I don’t recognise the rune in the centre of the page; the shape is a complex mix of circles and lines, some in shapes resembling letters from a foreign alphabet. Biting on my lip, I decipher the spell.
“Can you remember your surroundings at the Blackwoods', Andrei?” I ask.
“I was three, but I didn’t go into the house. I played in the woods outside with my sister.”
“Good. The spell needs one person to have a clear image of the place they want to go.” I rub my chin and keep reading. “We need your blood to draw the rune and ours to mix if we want to join you in teleporting to the place in your head.”
Andrei turns, disgust on his face. “What rune?” He snatches the book from me and frowns as he looks. “Crap. That will be a lot of blood.”
“We could make the rune smaller?” suggests Ash whose face has paled since the conversation about blood started.
“Has to be large enough for us to all fit our hands in, so that’s not too big,” I say.
My attempt to look on the bright side doesn’t take the troubled look from his face.
“So mostly Andrei's and not much of Jamie’s,” says Ash. "That's good, right?"
Andrei stares at the book and mutters, “Some will be his.”
“Why do you doubt you can control yourself?” I ask him. “You have control around Maeve.”
“She’s never bled in front of me,” he says in a low voice.
Ash straightens and his tone hardens. “Do you think if she did that, you’d attack her?”
“No!” He swipes his fringe from his face. “Not attack, but—"
“Not resist temptation?" He glares.
"Andrei. That’s dangerous for you both,” I say.
“Don’t you think I bloody know that?” he retorts and begins rifling through Tobias’s desk drawer. "Let's get this over with." He cuts dead the conversation in a spectacular way as he pulls out a metal letter opener and slashes his palm.
“Holy crap!” blurts Ash a few seconds later. Andrei holds out his bleeding hand. “Just do the spell, Jamie, and stop whining at me about Maeve.”
“I am not whining!”
“You both are!” retorts Ash. “We need unity, not you squabbling like little kids.”
I blow air into my cheeks as I watch the blood pool in Andrei’s palm. “Everybody is stressed, but we need to try this and hope the magic works.”