A scream fills my ears. Mine, I think. Or hers.
I’m flying back. Violently ripped from my whisper and tossed around like I’m about to find myself trapped under a house in Oz.
My body slams into something hard and cold. Every muscle seizes. The pain is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s pulling me under. Somewhere I fear I’ll never come back from.
Like every other night,I wake back in the apartment over AURA’s lab. Hannah sits in a chair next to the bed, her tablet in her hand.
“I failed. Again,” I manage, too weak to sit up. The first tear trails over the bridge of my nose. I can’t even wipe it away.
“Willow! You didn’t.” Hannah’s voice holds a mixture of pride and awe. “We could see the magic in you tonight. You were…almost glowing. Tell me everything you saw while you were inside.”
Despite my exhaustion, I recount every second. How my whisper instinctively knew what to do. How the ink appeared onthe pages. Even how itsmelled. By the time I’m done, my voice is almost gone.
“You did so well, Willow. Better than we ever could have hoped for.” She pats my arm, and pride raises a lump in my throat. “We’ll try again tomorrow. Tweak some of the settings on the WCU. I think we need to modulate the power. Give you enough to turn the page, but not so much we overwhelm you and your whisper. Now get some rest. You need your strength.”
The outer door shuts with a quietclicka minute later. Before I can close my eyes, my whisper appears next to the bed. Tears glisten on her gauzy cheeks. She reaches for me, but her fingers find nothing but air.
“I’m okay,” I mumble, my words slurring. My lids are suddenly too heavy to hold open. “Promise.”
The last thing I see as sleep takes me is another tear running down her cheek.
TEN
Willow
The flickering blue flames are brighter this time. Like they’re growing along with my power. My whisper goes right to the book, but her near-translucent fingers can’t grasp the pages.
Frustration builds inside her. She balls her hands into fists and pounds them against the stone altar. Once. Twice.
“Ow!”
The third time, impact sings up her arms. So strong, I feel the pain in my own hands. But I don’t think Hannah’s increased the power of the WCU. Maybe…she doesn’t need to? Maybe this is all me? Or us?
Ink slowly fills the next blank page. This writing is bolder. Angrier.
Accept the power of the Blade, and the magic will be yours for the rest of your days. No weapon in this world can destroy it. It is bound to the souls of all who have come before. You have a choice, Whisper Keeper. Continue and you will possess control over magic itself. Leave now, and the Blade will remain hidden until the next in your line is called.
My whisper splays her hands over the ancient parchment. Her indecision weighs heavily on me. Or is she sensing my fear?
I thought the Blade was a tool for good. But these warnings are getting more and more ominous.
She huffs, then continues on. More ink, so many lines they blur in front of our eyes until the last period at the very end of the page is formed.
You will be bound to this place. To this burden. The Blade, the grimoire, and the Whisper Keeper are one. Before you take the final step, heed the warnings of those who came before.
1879 - These are the final words of Frances Rowland, Whisper Keeper.
I go to my death willingly. They have found me, and they will soon force me?—
The vault and my whisper are ripped away from me so quickly, my whole world spins. “No!” I shout, back in my own body on the cold, stone floor beneath the cathedral.
Hannah grabs my shoulders, giving me a gentle shake until I focus on the worry in her eyes. Flecks of purple glow in the blue of her irises, and a wave of calm washes over me. “You’re okay, Willow. Your two minutes were up, and we pulled you out. We have to increase the length of time we use the WCU slowly so we don’t accidentally overwhelm your system. How do you feel?”
“I…I wasn’t ready.” The last Whisper Keeper’s words play on a loop in my head.“They will soon force me…”
Force her to do what?
My chest tightens. I scramble to my feet, but start to wheeze. The sensation of my blood pressure bottoming out drives all rational thought from my head. Stumbling for the stairs, I struggle to draw a deep breath. “I need…”
