Until, still murmuring her ancient spell words, she throws it.
It seems to go everywhere. It ricochets all around without actually hitting anything and then spears its way deep inside of me. At the same time, it sinks deep into Ariel. Into Winter. I can hear it when it hits Ty, because he roars out his displeasure.
He doesn’t like it at all. Neither do I, but that doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters, because images are cascading through my head. A vision of Vinca with her wormy face and her rotten mouth, clawing her way out of what looks like a birdcage.
But it’s ribs, I realize with a sickening lurch in my belly. She’s creeping her way out of someone’sribs.
I see Vinca’s temple, which is supposed to be securely at the bottom of Crater Lake, laid to waste. It’s nothing but rubble and ash, and there’s no creepy death goddess to be seen.
What I do see is an empty lake bed, cracked and parched, and I almost think that this is some random Eastern Oregon shit—but then, in the vision, I look up.
And realize that I’m standing at the bottom of Crater Lake. AnemptyCrater Lake.
There’s a loud, terrible sound, like laughter in the sky, and then I’m back in my body with another horriblelurch. I’m standing next to Ty’s bike. I’m in Winter’s yard.
I’m also gasping for air.
I reach out and am wildly grateful to find Ty’s steady, rock-hard body beside me. Though when I look at him, his gaze looks as dark as mine feels.
But he looks furious, not sick.
“To catch you up,” comes Savi’s cool voice, like an icy wind, “Winter’s visions are back. That’s one of them. I’m sure you get its meaning.”
On the porch, Winter looks hollow-eyed. Ariel has his hand on the back of her neck, and I get the impression he’s holding her up.
“Vinca is back,” Winter says, in case we missed the slithering out fromribs. “I don’t understand how. But she’s back. And if I’m not mistaken, she’s already walking among us.” She swallows, and I’m guessing she feels as sick as I do. “Walkinginsidesomeone.”
“Well,” I make myself say, because it’s that or scream. “We all saw the ribs. She won’t stay there.”
17.
First Quarter Half Wolf Moon
“Something happened last night,” Winter tells me, looking pale. “Something changed.”
The two of us are sitting inside her house in what was once a cozy den—in the human sense of that word—with a television that still sits there on the wall, useless. Nothing but a dark mirror these days.
Savi left with Ariel and Ty. I would have gone with them, but it was clear to me that Winter shouldn’t. Not in her more fragile state. I’m pretty sure I got the vampire king’s version of an almost-smile when I announced I’d stay. Ty only scowled, but he didn’t insult me by telling me to be careful.
He didn’t have to tell me. One thing about the oracle’s house is that it’s impenetrable. Winter kept it pretty tightly locked down, but I can smell the vampire all over it now. Not to mention sorceress warding and the werewolf patrols that I could scent myself on the way here.
I also checked the bars and steel plates over the windows when Winter let me venture deeper into the house than the communal kitchen. Something she saves for special occasions.
“Last night was the solstice,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. I’ve seen her with a Vinca-shaped headache before. She hasn’t said that her head hurts now, but I’m betting it does. “Things always happen on the solstice. That’s the point of celebrating it.”
“I don’t mean that kind of stuff.” She rubs at her temples, but smiles. “The vampires do throw a solstice party, it turns out. And it’s true that a great many things happened there, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”
I file that away as something to ask about later, since I have a not-so-small fascination with what vampires get up to in private. Not coffins and bats, I’m guessing, though I’m holding out hope that Winter will confess to both.
Though maybe not while we’re waiting to hear if our favorite death goddess is on a new rampage. One involving tearing her way out of someone’s rib cage. “The creepy-ass vision,” I say, because of course that’s what she’s talking about. “I’m sorry you have that shit in your head. I didn’t like it in mine. I know we weren’t sure about it right after, but the magic we used on Halloween was solid. Vinca should be locked up tight for at least another millennium.”
“I don’t think she is,” Winter says. In that voice that isn’t quite hers.
It reminds me of her grandmother. A regular little old lady most of the time, but when the oracle came out to play, Gran was different. Like the thing that makes them see makes its presence known in their voices, too.
Winter reaches into a low pocket on her cargo pants and pulls her cards out. As little as I want to know what’s coming for us, I have to take it as a good sign that she is apparently communicating with her cards again. That the breakup didn’t take.
