Pearl’s hazel eyes narrow, and the green in them brightens, dangerously flickering like twin flames. My mouth slams shut. “Blood magic,” she hisses. “It wards his home from anything bringing him ill will. It’s the very same spell my husband used, but there’s a loophole Ezra didn’t seal—one that ended up being the death of him. Someone who shares the caster’s blood can bypass it.”
“Mattie,” I whisper. “She really did do it.”
“Yes,” Pearl continues, “and your father is considerably less talented, so it’s likely his spell carries the same opening. Honestly, I’m surprised it has worked this long at all.”
“It does!” I exclaim, almost leaping up until I remember Jace is still pressed into me. “It has, too. I wished nothin’ but horrible things on him for the last two years. Unless ghosts don’t count, it doesn’t work on me.”
“What do you want us to do?” Jace asks, her voice wavering with uncertainty. “Kill him?”
“Goodness, no.” Pearl grins, laughing softly, and Jace sighs in relief. “Break the spell jar sowecan kill him. Did you not tell her about our bargain, Cyrus?”
Jace whips around to face me, her eyes boring into me like daggers.Thanks a lot, Auntie Pearl.
“Another chance,” I answer, a lump rising in my throat. “They can give us another chance to be together.”
“That’s impossible, Cyrus.” She shakes her head, unable to look at me. “We’re dead, remember?”
The creature steps forward, drawing our attention back to it. “What is death but stepping into the next room? What is life but continuing into the one after?Time is as easy to manipulate as water, always flowing between this plane and the next. Pearl has convinced me to help you move from this one to another, if you agree.”
“It’s as easy as falling asleep,” Pearl adds, touching Jace’s cheek.
Jace’s body trembles. Her glassy eyes lock on mine, filling me with a hope I never thought I’d feel. “How soon can we do it?”
32
JACE
Sometimes, secrets unravel slowly, like tugging on a loose thread until there’s nothing left except for a pile of yarn. Little by little, life becomes a messy heap, barely recognizable from how it started. Cyrus disappearing was my loose thread, one I incessantly pulled at until everything came undone. The beauty in it, though, is that the yarn is still here, waiting to be sewn back into something better. Yearning seeps into every crevice of my heart at even the small possibility of a second chance, no matter how skeptical I am of its source.
“Where do you think he keeps it?” I ask Cyrus, weaving through the trees on our way to his former home. I shudder, scrunching my face. “I hope it’s not in the basement. Did you know there are bones down there?”
“Bones?” Cyrus raises an eyebrow in question but doesn’t look surprised. “He used to go hunting, but he hasn’t since Ezra died.”
“No, this wasn’t an animal bone. It was too long—toohuman.”
He swallows, closing his eyes like I’ve confirmed something he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. “The fences... At the end ofevery fall, he sure spent a lot of time digging holes. Maybe he never stopped what his brother started.”
“But thething—what that creature said—the sacrifices weren’t what it wanted.” My voice shakes as I try to make sense of this gruesome possibility.
“I don’t reckon he knew that,” Cyrus sighs. “Or he just didn’t care. Either way, we have the chance to stop it—stop him from hurting anyone else.”
“Do you think he keeps the spell jar down there too?” My next words gag me, sitting sour on my tongue. “Down there with the bones?”
“If I had to guess, under the bed. That’s where Mama kept hers.” He shrugs, his eyes unfocused, like he’s lost in his thoughts.
“Your mama?” My eyebrows shoot up. “She was part of them too?”
“No,” he says sharply, shaking his head. “I secretly think she hated my old man as much as anyone but wanted to stay close to her sister. For a time, she, Pearl, and Magnolia used to all get together when their husbands were gone on those huntin’ trips. I used to sneak out of bed to see what they were up to. I found a jar under their bed once, while I was snoopin’ around right after she died. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now, I reckon’ he was the one who made it.”
“You mean after all the hell you gave me for bein’ a snoop as a kid, you were one this whole time?” I narrow my eyes, staring daggers at his back, but I burst out laughing when he turns around with a grin.
“I’m better at not bein’ caught. Bein’ sneaky has never been your thing, Jace. I watched you strugglin’ to bring that box from the shed into the house.”
If I wasn’t dead, my cheeks would be scarlet. Suddenly, it all makes sense: the feeling of being watched, the smell, thinking Iwas seeing him in my dreams. “Have you been hangin’ around this whole time?”
Cyrus nods sheepishly. “Are you mad?”
“Part of me wants to be, just so I don’t let you off the hook so easily, but no,” I admit, my voice dropping as a wave of melancholy washes over me. “Feels like a waste of energy when there’s so much else to be mad at.”
