He explains the ritual—anchoring points at key ley line intersections across Emberwood, a synchronized casting circle involving multiple magic users, and me at the center using Tharuzel’s demon mark on my bloodline to target the magic of our network to sever every demonic tether at once.
I hate that this plan highlights the bond between us, but that’s an emotional response to a logical fact. I am bound to Tharuzel, so we might as well use that to our advantage.
“I figured it out with the seven casters of the Brigade, but it would be even better if we have more.” Sebastian taps the diagram at several ley line junctures. "The plan is to place one of us at each anchor point, plus Poppy in the direct center. In theory, the power burst you make will ripple outward, like dropping a rock in the center of a pond. With that pulse carrying our spell, it should break every sigil within our grid.”
Rowan whistles low. "That's actually pretty cool.”
Wylder sighs. “I agree, but you’re right. The more practitioners we have, the better. I’ll put a call out to the coven and see if anyone is willing to risk Laurel’s wrath to help.”
I hold up a finger. “Don’t tell them the details of the plan. If someone reports back to Queen Witch Bitch, I don’t trust Laurel not to try to screw with us.”
Wylder winks. “Got it. Broad strokes only. We’ve got a plan to counter the sigils and need some bodies to boost the spell.”
“Yeah, that’ll work.”
Sebastian nods. “And itwillwork. I have a good feeling.”
Awesome. I’ll take all the positive energy we can muster. “So, when are we doing this?”
Sebastian looks at Wylder. “Let’s say tomorrow at noon?”
Wylder nods. “All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
Asher is up from the table and already halfway down the hall, phone pressed to his ear. "Mica? Yeah, hey, it's Asher. Got a minute? Cool. So, funny story—we're a go on the town-wide exorcism…"
I shake my head, but warmth spreads through my chest.
We've got a plan.
And for the first time in weeks, I think we might actually pull this off.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The next day at noon, Asher and I are sitting on a wooden bench, stationed in the center of town, which put us smack in the middle of the Emberwood town square.
Everything sprawling out before us seems calm and ordinary—the freshly mowed grass, the old oaks lining the walkways, the gazebo standing white and proud in the distance—but nothing could be further from the truth.
We’re doing this again.
A couple walks their dog past us. A jogger with earbuds bobs along the path.
Are they in danger? Should I clear the area?
My leg bounces.
Asher nudges me with his elbow. "You're vibrating."
"I'm fine."
"You're literally shaking the bench."
I force my leg still. "Better?"
"Marginally." He leans back, arms stretched across the bench's backrest. "You know, when I imagined saving the world, I thought there'd be more... I don't know… theme music."
I snort. “Seriously? You think we should have a soundtrack?”
“You don’t?”
