“Well, I’ve never actually performed one before—not like this,” Persi said. She caught my eye and then added, “I’veperformed many Cleansings. I’ve just never specifically Cleansed an angry centuries-old spirit from the body of an ex-girlfriend, and frankly, neither has anyone else I know.”
“So, you’re saying this isn’t typical Sedgwick Cove relationship drama? I’m so glad to hear that,” I laughed, my voice rising a full octave.
“Wren. Get a hold of yourself.”
“Sorry,” I said, and took a steadying breath. “Seriously, though, what happens when the—bond or connection or whatever it is between them—is broken? Will Sarah just be hanging around, ready to attach to someone else like a parasite?”
“No, she’ll be drawn out of Bernadette and into this mirror,” Persi said. “And then we’ll destroy the mirror. Once that’s done, she’ll be sent back to the other side of the veil, where she belongs. And she knows it. That’s why she’s trying to hide.”
Persi then reached into her bag and pulled out a long, thin braid of white, blonde hair. At the sight of it, Bernadette let out an angry hiss, like a cat. Persi looked over at her, her expression almost amused.
“Oh, do you recognize this? I would hope you do. You gave it to me when you swore we would be bound together in love for all of this earthly life. I was besotted enough with you at the time that I tucked it away, like a treasured possession. I nearly burned it when you betrayed me, but I thought better of it. I knew there had to be a better use for it. At the time, I was seeing red and thinking only of revenge; but then I realized I could put it to much better use in another way.”
Persi then took a bundle of ribbons from her bag. She began to wind them, one by one, around the braid of hair. “These ribbons represent the dark manipulations of Sarah Claire. They are the hold she has upon you, Bernadette Claire, the source of her power over you. They are the choking weeds thatthrottle you, the puppet strings that control you. They are the manifestation of her influence, her energy, and her power.”
Persi held out the hair, now tightly bound in different color ribbons, and dangled it in slow, deliberate circles —first clockwise, then counterclockwise, over the still smoking herbs in the bowl. I watched, entranced as the smoke curled and danced around the hair, how it seemed to circle and snake itself around each knot, each twist. Behind the bars Bernadette—or perhaps Sarah—was actually snarling with anger. She beat her hands against the bars again, her palms red with the fruitless effort.
Next, Persi pulled a tiny dagger from her bag. She pulled it from its leather sheath to reveal a slightly curved, wickedly sharp blade. Then she held up the bound braid of hair, and slipped the point of the dagger beneath the first ribbon.
“I release you from this dark energy,” she murmured, and sliced neatly through the first ribbon, which fluttered away to the floor. My eyes darted toward Bernadette, who was now howling with anger, and throwing herself against the bars.
“Persi, she’s going to hurt herself,” I muttered.
“A few bruises are a small price to pay to get her soul back, wouldn’t you say?” Persi replied. Still, the next time the bars rattled, she flinched; and I knew she didn’t like the idea of Bernadette injuring herself.
“I release you from this dark energy,” she whispered again, and cut through a second ribbon.
Bernadette had now jumped to her feet, and was making furious swipes toward us with her thin but powerful arms. The sounds escaping her sounded like an incantation of her own, something lilting but dark, in a language I didn’t recognize.
“I release you from this dark energy,” Persi repeated once, twice, three times more. At last, she sliced through the last of the ribbons.
Bernadette let loose a screech of rage, and then fell to the ground in a heap, like a marionette whose strings had been cut. As she hit the ground, a cloud of dust rose up around her, dark and almost sparkling, like soot. The cloud hovered, swirling like mist, and my breath caught in my throat.
“Is that… that’s not…”
“Sarah Claire,” Persi breathed. “Or what’s left of her. Quick, the mirror!”
I held up the mirror, and Persi began to tie the ribbons to it, her fingers sure. As I watched, I looked into the mirror and saw something in the reflection that caught my attention for just a moment. A word, carved into the stone of the wall behind where Bernadette now lay: Kildare. I’d barely had time to register it before my attention was drawn away again, this time to the strange sparkling, smoke-like cloud that was Sarah Claire. The cloud shifted, forming, for a brief moment, an almost human shape before shooting across the room, and directly into the mirror. Persi yelped and dropped the mirror, which landed with a clatter on the table, looking old and innocuous as ever.
Persi and I stood motionless, hardly daring to breathe, waiting for something else to happen. When nothing did, Persi sagged beside me with a sigh of relief.
“I think we did it,” she murmured. “I think she’s gone. Can you feel it?”
I thought I understood what she meant. The entire atmosphere of the room was lighter somehow. It was as though a gust of fresh air had swept through, and took the mustiness and the decay and the dark, heavy energy of the place with it. I turned to Persi and felt a smile spread slowly over my face. Persi, on the other hand, darted forward to where Bernadette still lay in a motionless heap against the bars of her cell. She reached through, snatched up Bernadette’s hand, and pressed her fingers to her wrist.
“Pulse is steady and strong. I imagine she’ll sleep for a long time now,” Persi said, slumping into a seated position with a sigh. “If she’s been fighting against Sarah at all, she will be exhausted, mentally and physically. We won’t know until she wakes how much she remembers.”
“What if she tells the Conclave about this?” I asked. “Won’t you get in trouble for coming here, and doing this without their permission?”
“I won’t give her the chance,” Persi said. “I’ll go to the Conclave tomorrow and demand an audience. I’ll tell them exactly what I did, and why.” She looked at me, almost as an afterthought. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you out of it.”
“But won’t you be in huge trouble?” I asked. Surely what Persi and I had just done was the witchy equivalent of a felony? I didn’t yet know much about how the Conclave functioned in Sedgwick Cove, but I knew they were powerful enough to make life difficult for anyone who disobeyed them.
“Most of the Conclave were pushing for this to happen,” Persi said, rising to her feet now, and brushing the sand and dust from her leggings. “They’ll make a show of admonishing me, but I doubt I’ll get more than a caution, maybe an official writ of warning, if they’re feeling spicy. Either way, I don’t care. Whatever happens now, whatever she says, whatever she does, I know it’s her choice. Even if she breaks my heart again, I’ll know she meant to break it.”
She stroked Bernadette’s hair once more, tenderly, and then turned to me.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
