My chest heaved as I watched her go, staring at the empty space where she had stood seconds before, her words burying into the cracks of the floor, her tone seeping into the door frame, how wrong she was painting the space she stood, marking a memory that would, most likely, never go away. It resonated. And each time I would pass that space, I would remember what she’d said. More importantly, the way she made me feel. Like I was a heartless, insensitive slave to our mother.
After calming myself, I crossed the hall into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. Carefully, I dragged my dresser out of the way, and the jewelry hanging inside my jewelry boxclankedagainst the glass enclosure. I crouched in front of the secret door I’d carved into the wall as a little girl.
I buried Mom’s book inside next to all my other treasures.
Much like my beloved black sea, I was a collector, too.
Magazines, sea glass, seashells, my dagger. And the grimoire I’d stolen from Kane and had to keep hidden. I glanced at my closed bedroom door, then slowly slid the grimoire into my lap. I flipped the pages until, once again, the spell to save Mom stared back at me. For years, I’d studied this spell, memorized it.
London, England
April 1586
Wake one from a deep sleep:
A bloody eclipse must fill the sky,
During the witching hour on a full moon’s night.
Collect the blood upon Death’s kiss,
Paint it over the sleeping one’s lips.
Chant the following spell:
Wake, wake, I plead of thee
To a place of love, a land of pain
From the other side, come back to me.
The Crimson Eclipse only came around once every other century, and 2021 was the year of its return. On January twenty-eighth, the bloody eclipse would fill the sky for the first time in 165 years.
This was my only chance. I would not get another.
Only two months until Kane would be dead, and I could bring Mom back.
I had to find a way to push the wedding date to after the twenty-eighth.
Later that day,I was gripped by the lighthouse beam spreading throughout Weeping Hollow on my way to the tunnels to visit Lena. The beam cast a quick nova light on the cobblestone pathway, wind howling with every step of the way. I pulled my cloak’s hood higher over my head so no one would notice me.
I only had an hour left before the Shadows seized daylight.
I had to be quick.
The tunnels were empty. My boots echoed, and a shaky glow from my lantern lit the way to the cell.
A rat squealed as it rushed past, trotting along the stone wall.
Cringing, I kept my eyes on it until it disappeared, hugging my body close.
Spirit’s shadows leapt and twisted on both sides of me, and as I grew closer, noises drifted and swelled. Soft at first, until it built up into a subtle cry. My palms were sweaty when I reached for my box cutter tucked into my waistband. I’d brought it just in case, having no idea what would be waiting in the tunnels near nightfall.
Once I reached the turn, I hid behind the corner, peeking around at first to see where the noise was coming from. Lena was lying against the wall of the cell, her cheek crushed against the stone. Dirt, dead leaves, and twigs were tangled in her hair, and tears smeared her blotchy face.
The water droplets splashing into puddles from cracks in the stone matched my steps as I ran to her.
“Lena,” I said upon a gasp, setting the lantern down and clutching the bars. My palms sizzled as soon as my flesh met the steel, and I yanked them back.
