It’s too late,Leena thought maliciously.I have seen enough.
A feeling of warped victory washed over her. This demon was expecting the same submission from her as from an Avon.
You are angry that there are no more Avons to feed on, and your power is curtailed.She wanted to chokeitjust as it had tried to do with her.
She felt the demon’s rage.What Percival Avon left behind is enough to feed on for all time,it replied in a threaded whisper.
As quickly as it had tried and failed to possess her, it withdrew.
Leena felt the shift in power as she regained control of her limbs and her focus. Her eyes unclouded, she found herself in the exact spot in which both the 1st Marquess of Avon and Percival had stood while bargaining with the demon.
The black waters of the Hall of the Lake stretched before her. She intrinsically knew the name of this hallowed place, a remnant piece of knowledge left by the demon.
No longer were the passageways of the crypts made of stone, but instead of cold marble that curved into a large, yawning chamber. The ground gave way to a sudden pool, expansive and seemingly endless. A simple wooden raft was moored by the shore, the paddles slung over its sides, the wood suffering from years of neglect. Sculptures bordered the water—three grand men who must’ve once been lords of this land but were now crumbled relics: One was missing a head, the other an arm, the last a leg. Soft black waves swirled in the lake, beckoning her forward.
Rami and St. Silas were only seconds behind her, stopping abruptly at the entrance when they first caught sight of her and the lake.
Before they could say anything, she turned to them with her palms up. “It’s fine, I’m sorry, it’s fine, it’s me—and before you say anything, Mr. St. Silas, I claimed to be visiting aspecial friendon that night you caught me sneaking out of your house.”
At this point, both Leena and St. Silas knew that she could become possessed; all that was lacking was her confirmation, which she still held on to. Should she validate his suspicions, there was no going back.
Still, she could see the palpable relief on both their faces upon hearing her words.
She wanted to tell Rami that this was the first time she had been able to fight off a possession without the help of salt or copper coins, but she could not do so now—not when the watchful presence of St. Silas hovered close.
She walked toward them, away from the lake and the disfiguredstatues. “There is a dark energy here that I…sensed. It isn’t a spirit; it’s a demon. Weavingshaw’s entire foundation is built on a promise to a demon.”
She remembered her mama’s warning:Beware the promise of Weavingshaw.
“For Saints’ sakes,demons?” Rami’s fingers shook slightly as he tugged back his hair. “Do demons even exist?”
St. Silas’s eyes bored into her own. Reading his expression was like looking through an off-kilter mirror—the picture wavering, transient, only a reflection of light and shadow. He would never reveal more than he intendedto.
“Tell him,” Leena commanded.
He didn’t respond to her order, merely picked up his lamp and turned back toward the path. “If you are well enough to continue, madam, then we had better make our way back. It’s nearly dawn.”
Leena caught up with him. “Did you hear what I said? Weavingshaw’s existence is intertwined with demons. One cannot exist without the other.”
He continued walking. “Will this help us find Lord Avon and the diary?”
“No, but—”
“Then it is entirely useless information.”
She watched him walk ahead in surprise. No information was useless to the Saint of Silence…
And that in itself was a telling sign.
Leena felt asif she was on borrowed time, her thoughts always trailing back to the ruined Tar sitting idly in the crypts, waiting for Kilworth or Martin to discover it. Every hour seemed both a blessing and a misery, a countdown to an inevitable reckoning. They had only two more days until they returned to Golborne, and she was unsure if she wanted the time to pass quickly so that she could save her brother, or slowly so that she could find the diary.
And now the business with this horrid hunt.
When she’d woken up on the morning of the sixth day, Mrs. Van had notified her that Rami and St. Silas had already departed for the hunt, this being the first morning when it wasn’t raining heavily. She knew that both Rami and St. Silas were loath to waste a precious day when they were still no closer to finding the diary, but they had to keep up appearances for the other guests.
She could not bear to just sit and wait for them to return. Ever since she had successfully prevented the demon from possessing her body, Leena was suffused with a new energy. Never had it occurred to her that she would one day be able to fight these beings andwin,when she’d only ever lost before. This triumphantmilestone had given her a newfound confidence in herself that she had rarely experienced in the last three years.
Leena could also not shake off the surprise that St. Silas had not questioned her ruthlessly about the demon she’d found hiding in the crypts. She wondered if it was becausehe’d already known.In fact, she was certain of it. But, as usual, St. Silas would not divulge any more information than was absolutely necessary.
