Page 56

The Hellmark did not like being mocked.

It snapped toward the next false pulse faster, sharper, its black and red line slicing through two of my glittering decoys before Knox released the third. The table shook. The spiral disc rattled in place, then began to spin without anyone touching it.

“That seems bad,” I said.

“It’s measuring the lines,” Knox said. His voice stayed calm, but the muscles in his forearm stood out hard beneath the Hellmark. “So, we make them inconsistent.”

He sent one pulse into the floor, one into the ceiling, one backward through his own shadow. I refracted each one in a wrong direction. Too bright. Too late. Too early. Too soft. A defensive flare that tasted like retreat. An attack pattern that folded into apology. A Ward response that spiraled like a song played backward on a badly tuned fiddle.

Outside, the creatures lost rhythm.

One slammed into the north wall. Another skidded across the roof. The third hurled itself at the empty fireplace hard enough that soot puffed into the room and made me cough.

“I take it back,” I wheezed. “Murder Unicorn static needs a ventilation plan.”

The communication shimmer over the table flared. Bernie’s voice cut through the cabin. “Maisie. Knox. Stop feeding it random signals.”

Knox’s head snapped toward the spell. “Why?”

Carrick answered, voice low and urgent. “Because Keevandrie did not build the mark only to track you. She built it to compare responses.”

The room seemed to tilt.

“Compare responses to what?” I asked, even though my stomach already knew the answer and was filing a formal complaint.

The spiral disc stopped spinning.

The black etching on its surface filled with red light, not random now, not hunting. Writing.

Three words burned across the disc in a language I did not know and somehow understood anyway.

Second signature confirmed.

Knox went utterly still.

So did every creature outside.

The Hellmark pulsed once, slow and satisfied.

“Second signature,” I whispered. “Knox, it doesn’t mean Guy.”

His gaze cut to me, sharp enough to draw blood. “What did it confirm?”

I looked down at our joined hands.

My Alicorn Magic still wrapped the edges of his Hellmark. Gold. Blue. Sparkling pink. Pearly white. Bright as a beacon and apparently just as subtle.

Outside, every shadow turned toward me.

Oh.

Well, shit. That was very bad.

10

Every creature outside turned toward Maisie.

Inside my brain, Sully erupted. “Mate!”