When the lid slammed closed, two things happened at once. The fingers on my left hand felt like someone had snapped them in half, and the pressure squeezing my head vanished. Whatever Noah had painted on the inside of the chest’s lid must have been containing the energy of the spirits trapped within.
The fog in my brain instantly cleared, and I scrambled backward out of his reach, finding my feet faster than I would have thought possible. I backed across the hall and into Fang’s bedroom, never taking my eyes off the suddenly murderous cameraman. He wore a pair of sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt, and though there was no trace of his hat or cloak and his face wasn’t the same as it looked on the astral plane, there was one thing about him that was instantly recognizable: the cold, sadistic gleam in his eyes.
I had thought Kit was just trying to make space for herself on the Soul Searchers team, but she had been right. Noah didn’t know how to work the cameras properly. He didn’t really have any experience. That had all been a lie, a way for him to get onto the crew. But why? Just to screw with me?
Or to find other psychics to murder?
There was no point in asking. In my heart, I knew it was probably a little of both.
“Well,” I said, “I don’t know if I should call you Noah or Horace or whatever your real name is.”
Noah flashed a humorless smile as he walked toward me. “It’s Noah, but I’ve always hated that name. His story never made any sense to me. He took all that time to build the boat, herded everything that mattered onto it, and then just… let it go? A smart man would have kept it for himself.”
“Horace, then.”
He hissed through his teeth. “I can hear that, you know. The way you say it, like you’re cramming two foul words together as quickly as you can. It’s Horus, Mackenzie. Say it with the respect it deserves.”
I backed into a dresser and groped for something—anything—I could use as a weapon. Noah might not be able to travel the length of the room in a single blink outside the astral plane, but he was still considerably stronger and larger than I was. If he leapt at me, I needed to be able to level the playing field.
My hands found nothing.
“Sorry, Horus,” I said, careful to enunciate the u.
He stopped at the threshold between the hallway and Fang’s bedroom and inhaled deeply. “I told Fang not to leave his window open for that worthless cat. I should have checked when he left this morning. But don’t you think the winter air is… I don’t know… bracing? The cold can be so freeing.”
I shuddered. “Does he know what you’re doing in here?”
“Lord, no. I don’t know if it’s his youth or his disposition, but the child is pitifully easy to manipulate.” His eyes flicked to the window. He darted across the room toward it, blocking my exit and chasing me up onto Fang’s bed. “Now, now. Where do you think we’re going? I’ve got a box ready for you, Mackenzie. It took me a few years, but I figured it out. The stronger the psychic, the longer she lasts. And you’re ripe for the plucking.”
Frustration welled up inside me. I half crouched on the mattress, unsure where to go from here. Should I go on the offensive? Leap off the bed and attack him? Or focus on getting away?
Noah tilted his head, and for a moment, he looked almost nostalgic. “You look so much like her, you know. I’ll admit I had a bit of a schoolboy crush. But she was too old for me. Even Anson said so. But then, what did that old man know? He said my ideas were insane.”
“What ideas?” I asked, edging the opposite direction. If I couldn’t get out through the window, maybe I could make a break for the front door. I just needed a distraction, something to keep him from chasing after me.
“Oh, you know. A little of this. A little of that. Anson didn’t like the idea of mixing rune systems or inventing my own. I told him they were just symbols—it’s the intent behind them that matters. And when I finally found a way to reach the astral plane, after all the time we spent working together, he told me I should stop.” Noah shook his head. “Can you believe that? Stop. Like anyone could just stop. Now that you’ve done it, you understand.”
I swallowed. I did understand. Even now, lurking beneath the fear and panic that gripped me in this moment, I wanted to do it again.
“Anson was a purist. And a fool. And now he’s in—” Noah pointed toward his room, and his smile vanished. “NO!”
He leapt away from me, diving through the hallway. The light on the walls flickered oddly, and I slid to the side to see what had sent him bolting away from me.
The carpet was on fire. The alien head lighter’s defective button had gotten stuck, and it spat blue flame toward the cedar chest. The blaze had spread quickly through the small bedroom and licked at the walls. The cedar chest was already charred. Any second now, the fire would eat through the barrier and start consuming jewelry boxes.
I backed away from it, toward the frigid air that poured in through the open window behind me. Noah was right; at this moment, the cold felt like the most freeing thing in the world. It was about to save my life. But as I threw one leg up onto the windowsill, I glanced back through the open doorway.
Noah stood on the other side of the rising flames with a comforter in his hands. Sweat dripped down his face, and he winced against the heat as he used the blanket to swat at the flames in a desperate attempt to put them out.
It looked like it was working.
If he saved the cedar chest, every spirit inside would stay trapped in its prison. Noah would take them and flee, and even with his real name, I would still be powerless to find him.
I might be free, but my mother never would be.
He lifted the blanket, spreading it between his outstretched arms. As he lunged forward with it to smother the fire eating the cedar chest, I bolted back across the kitchen and into the flames.
I had to stop him.
No matter the cost.
My feet crossed the threshold. An explosion pierced my ears, and a blast of spiritual energy knocked me off my feet. I flew backward into Fang’s room, tumbling across the carpet before slamming into the wall beneath the window. The impact knocked my breath out of me, and when I sucked in air, it seared my throat. Black smoke billowed out of the cedar chest. Through the haze, I could just make out Noah’s body, crumpled against the far wall in his room.
Someone grabbed me beneath my armpits and hoisted me up and through the window. I fell to the ground and clutched at the frosted grass, gasping in the cold—but clean—air.
“Graham?” I asked, raising my head.
I was sure he must have found me and pulled me to safety, but there was nobody around me. I was alone in the field, apart from the green-eyed black cat, who leapt out the window after me.
A shrill noise split the early morning air, jolting me to my feet. The fire alarm screeched, paused, and screeched again. Windows on every floor of the building lit up, one by one, and panicked voices echoed out of the stairwells.
As I watched Fang’s neighbors evacuate, invisible fingers touched my cheek. I felt someone cup my face between their hands, then a gentle pressure at my back as though I had been pulled into a hug.
“Mom?”
The pressure increased. I reached my arms out, wanting to hug her back, but my arms passed through the empty air in front of me to circle around my own torso. I squeezed anyway, hugging myself as tightly as I would have hugged my mother if I had been able to see her.
After a long time, I felt her let me go. She brushed my cheek again, and as her fingers left my face, I sensed her rising upward. Her energy drifted toward the sky like the smoke pouring out of Fang’s bedroom window.
Tears ran down my cheeks. I knew, deep in my heart, my mother was moving on to a place where no psychic power could reach her. She had lingered on our plane long enough, far longer than she would have done if she’d had a choice.
That last embrace was the goodbye she hadn’t been able to give me before she died.
I sank down to the cold ground and let my grief wash over me. Strangers surrounded me, and one of the evacuees wrapped me in a quilt that smelled like freshly washed laundry. Graham came running across the lawn toward our clump, and the panic in his eyes abated when he found my face in the crowd.
He gathered me to him. “Are you all right? What happened?”
“I’m okay.” I searched for the words to explain what I had just experienced but couldn’t find them.
“Horace?” he asked.
“It was Noah.” Shame and anger filled me, momentarily overshadowing my sadness. “I was so stupid. I thought I would be able to sense him—feel his energy. But all the time, I’ve been wearing this to block him out.”
I ripped the black tourmaline necklace off and let it fall to the ground. Thin tendrils of negative energy pawed at my psyche, but any dangerous or angry spirits Noah had kept trapped in that cedar chest were rising to the sky, hurried into the next world by the flames that freed them.
Gingerly, I felt for any trace of Noah in the apartment. I found none but couldn’t be certain what that meant.
“Do you want to go home?” Graham asked.
“Not yet. I need to see.” I opened the blanket, inviting him to join me in its warmth.
He stepped inside and wrapped it back around our shoulders. Together, we watched as the firefighters arrived and put out the flames. And as the sun rose behind the trees, we watched them carry a stretcher out of Fang’s apartment.
The corpse was hidden from view by thick black fabric.
As soon as the body bag was out of sight, I shrugged out of the blanket and returned it to the woman who had given it to me, then stooped to pick up my necklace. Because it had come from Elizabeth, I couldn’t bear to leave it behind. But it went into my pocket, not around my neck.
Horace was dead. I didn’t need it anymore.