“Okay. Let’s do it.”
Persi looked absolutely stunned, and I realized in that moment that she had not expected me to agree.
“Seriously?”
“Yes. And if we get caught, I’ll tell them I was trying to stop you, and that you forced me to help,” I said.
Persi’s face split unexpectedly into a grin. “Noted. Now let’s go. There’s not a lot of time.”
With that, she took off down the beach with surprising speed, and I struggled to keep up with her on the uneven terrain. She’d clearly walked this path before, picking her way expertly between the larger rocks, and avoiding the slippery places. I did my best to follow her exact route so that I wouldn’t sprain an ankle, but it was no easy feat in the dark. We kept to the shadows where the beach met the sea wall, avoiding the pools of brightness where the streetlights from Harbor Street stretched down toward the water. At first, I thought Persi was being paranoid, saying we didn’t have much time; but as I glanced out at the fishing boats anchored in the harbor, I realized she might be right. Surely, fishermen set out incredibly early in the morning. We would want to be far from the beach before wehad to start worrying about fishing crews spotting our flashlights bobbing around on the shore.
Nova hadn’t explained where the Keep was exactly, just that it was down near the water; and so, I had no idea what to expect as we moved further and further down the beach. We made our way under the remains of the old boardwalk, and then under the structure of the new boardwalk to where the sea wall ended, and the cliffs began to jut up, separating the beach below from the waving dunes of sea grass, above. At last, Persi came to a stop where three large, jagged stones rose up in front of the cliff face. I came to a stop beside her, panting.
“Where is it?” I asked, when I had caught my breath somewhat.
“This is it,” Persi replied, gesturing toward what appeared to be a solid wall of stone.
“I’m missing something.”
Persi was already rummaging through her backpack. “It’s got a spell of concealment on it, called a glamour. You probably haven’t learned what?—”
“Actually, I have,” I said quickly, relieved not to be totally ignorant. “Rhi explained to me about glamours when she brought me by Shadowkeep the other day.”
Persi nodded. “Well, this one can’t be broken with just simple foreknowledge of the location. It requires another step.”
“Isn’t there, like… a guard or something?” I asked. “How can they expect a prisoner to stay secure with no guard?”
“They’ve used magic to secure it. Bernadette can’t leave. I can’t get into her cell or try to engineer her escape in any way, and I would be foolish to try,” Persi said. “But a Cleansing should work. At least, I think it will.”
“Why would a Cleansing work when other forms of magic won’t?” I asked. My pulse was beginning to race, imagining that we were about to set off some kind of magical alarm system.
“Well, in the first place, we are Vespers,” Persi said, and I could hear the ringing note of pride in her voice. “Our magic helped to fortify this place, and magic recognizes its origins.”
“You mean the spells will… know us? Trust us?” I asked.
“Something like that, yes,” Persi said. She was lighting a candle now with a tiny lighter that looked like a tube of lipstick. “And secondly, a Cleansing is something that ought to have been performed already, and has been performed on other prisoners in the Keep in the past. The fortifications allow for that type of magic, because it was anticipated that such a spell might be required.” She turned and looked at me with a serious expression. “Bernadette is not the first witch to be locked up here due to the influence of dark forces.”
“You mean, if Ostara would agree to a Cleansing, it could be performed right here, with Bernadette still in the Keep?” I asked.
“Correct,” Persi said. “We’re only doing what ought already to have been done. And if Ostara doesn’t like it, she can take it up with me in front of the whole gathering of Sedgwick Cove covens, and she can explain to all of us why she hadn’t already done it herself. I promise you, I am far more prepared for that scenario than she is.”
“But you’re not a Conclave member. I thought only Conclave members could get in.”
“And all Conclave members have one of these,” Persi said, holding up a silver amulet on a chain, which swung wildly from her fingers. “Asteria still had hers. I simply borrowed it. Now stop with all the questions. I need to concentrate.”
Persi took a tall taper candle from her bag, and wrapped the chain of the amulet around it three times as she lit it. Then she reached into her pocket, and flung what appeared to be a handful of salt into the air. She muttered an incantation under her breath, and blew out the candle flickering betweenher fingers. I looked at the cliff face in front of me, waiting for something to happen. Then I blinked.
When my eyes opened again, the door to the Keep had appeared. Well, it was less of a door, and more of a jagged fissure in the rock that hadn’t been there a moment before; but I recognized it for what it was: an invitation to enter. Persi moved forward with purpose, and I followed, trying to take comfort from her confidence.
I was expecting something like a cave, with rough, damp walls and a sandy, rocky floor; but as we passed through the opening, I gasped audibly. Inside the confines of the cliff itself was an almost modern chamber. The walls, though made of stone, were smooth and cleanly carved. The floor transformed from beach to concrete. Narrow metal pipes ran along the ceiling over our heads, and industrial lighting hung down from them, illuminating the room with a surprisingly warm glow.
“It’s not all magic,” Persi said, flicking a light switch, and illuminating still further along what I now recognized as a corridor. “The electricity is run down from above on Harbor Street.”
We walked along the corridor to a door, which Persi unlocked. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. “Asteria still had a key, too,” she said.
“Not for long,” I murmured, and Persi snorted.
The door swung open on loud, rusty hinges, and we were met with a gust of warm air from the room beyond. Just from the name “the Keep,” I’d dreamed up manacles chained to the walls; but the place in which we stood looked much more like a modern jail might look. There were three cells along the far wall, separated from each other by cinder block dividers, and separated from us by a wall of bars. The outer room contained little except for a few stackable molded plastic chairs for visitors, a bench along one wall, a small trash can, and a row of hookson the wall, presumably for people to hang coats. Inside the cells themselves, there were metal bed frames made neatly with tan blankets and pillows, toilets, and a sort of shelf that pulled down from the wall, and could be used as a desk when one sat on the bed. The cells were empty except for the one in the middle, where Bernadette sat, blinking at us in surprise.
