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I carefully took out the canvas duffel filled with Charity’s remains from the back seat of the car and grabbed a smaller bag with the things I’d need to lay her to rest. Not the most elegant of transportation for her, but there was no way I could carry the box she’d been buried in. I realized after I removed her bones that it was lead-lined, which was probably why there hadn’t been any noticeable magic leakage before the box was damaged.

I rubbed my arms when goose bumps lifted. Shadow Falls had that effect on people.

The woods here were all but barren, the trees unhealthy, some dead, all sparse, a result of having so much dark magic pumping into the earth. But it’d be a whole lot worse if the witches here hadn’t been laid to rest in the caves.

I locked my car, placed the bags over my shoulder, and started down the path that led to the falls. I’d left Nia with Rose. Anything could happen here tonight, and I wasn’t going to risk Nia being hurt. This wasn’t something she could fight or run from. The crones were spirits, and they were evil.

The flashlight I had with me lit the way, and I had to fight not to run back to my car as the sense of dread slowly built around me until it felt like it was being absorbed through my skin, sinking to my bones. I’d never felt anything like it, and I never wanted to ever again.

And god, it grew stronger the deeper I got.

The dark magic saturated this place and was the reason I didn’t have to worry about demons attacking me. Even they stayed away.

I heard the falls before I saw them, moonlight glinting off the torrent of water exploding from the top of a sharp cliff. The stone underfoot was slippery, and I clung to the rocky wall along the path that led behind the falls and into the cave.

It was cold and musty inside, the dread so thick it was an effort not to succumb to a panic attack or run away. I had the strangest urge to curl into a ball and sob.

You can do this. You have to do this.

I shone my flashlight around the cavern. There was a dais to the right of me, and I took a closer look. Willow had come here during her own trial, forced to perform a ritual of a different kind. It was exactly as she’d described it, down to the rusty stains. Blood, my sister’s included.

I shivered as I flicked the light across the walls, the dug-out sections made by different covens for the purpose of laying the bodies of their own evil family members to rest. Each set of remains was wrapped in linen, now only bones, and placed on their stone ledges.

I didn’t stop here, though. The crones had shown me where I needed to go.

The cave went deeper, and my fear spiked when the flashlight lit up the cave I needed to walk down. The light was swallowed by the incredible darkness, and it took every bit of courage I possessed to make myself step toward it.

The air grew cooler, danker as I walked—

Something brushed my shoulder, and I shrieked and spun, aiming my light at it. Nothing. Then someone whispered close to my ear, and I swallowed down my scream. The crones were playing with me, this was all part of the test. If I ran, I failed, and this was the only place Charity’s remains could be left safely.

I had to do this for my family, my coven.

My flashlight went out.

I froze and bit my lip to stifle another scream. The darkness was oppressive. I couldn’t see an inch in front of me. I shuffled forward blindly as the whispering continued, growing in intensity, vicious, repulsive words that had my pulse pounding so hard I felt dizzy. I thought I’d experienced fear before.

Not even close.

This was my every nightmare come to life.

Something brushed against me again, then again. Tears slid down my face as I ignored every instinct I had and kept moving.

Every step forward felt like a lifetime, not knowing what I was walking toward. Afraid of what the hand I had out in front of me was going to come into contact with.

A faint light ignited ahead.

I focused on that light like a lifeline and carried on, moving deeper into the cave.

A glow was coming from a small room off the main tunnel, and when I walked inside, there was another dais, this one glossy black obsidian, and on the opposite side was a ledge in the stone. There were small bottles lined up, the same ones I’d seen in the vision.

I knew what I had to do because the crones had given me that knowledge. I’d heard whispers about it, of course, among other covens, but no one had ever admitted to being here or doing this.

The council covered up these things, along with the covens themselves. Yes, it was there in our histories. But there was no way I’d know who had actually done this or how many witches had lost their lives performing this ritual.

I lifted the duffel onto the dais and unzipped it, carefully removing each bone and placing them approximately where they belonged. The other bag held my knife, linen strips, and a jar of soil from our cemetery.

One by one, I sprinkled the bones with dirt, then wrapped them in raw linen, saying the chant that filled my mind. A chant I’d never seen or heard before in my life but instinctively knew.