Nobody spoke. They marched along, sometimes side-by-side, other times single file. The narrow path to the cemetery could only be accessed on foot, and at its widest, could only accommodate two people at a time. Ember was already sweating, and it wasn’t just from the heat; the blood and magic raging through her veins made her feel hot and jittery. Mace walked beside her, his lack of corporeal form allowing him to walk where the others could not. Occasionally, his hand would brush hers, causing a thrill of electricity along her skin. Tristin and Kai were directly behind her, and their magic hummed with hers like a completed circuit.

They’d been practicing for days. Renzo had finished the objects. They were as prepared as they could be, but Ember couldn’t help but wonder if that was enough…if what they had would be sufficient.

Their pack was damaged. Mace was a ghost. Quinn was fading by the hour. They were also down a wolf. Malachi was currently gone, replaced by his silent sister and her magic and her sanity were very much a wild card. Harlow seemed to change personalities like some people changed clothes. Evangeline seemed calm but also…melancholy, not that Ember could blame the animancer. How were they supposed to pull this off?

Tristin’s voice in her head startled her out of her thoughts. Stop thinking so loud.

I can’t help it. I’m terrified.

We all are, Kai reminded her gently.

What if this doesn’t work? What if we can’t beat the Legionaries? Ember asked.

She heard Tristin’s sigh. Leave it to Tristin to mentally sigh. Let’s just make it past you raising Silas’s army.

Ember’s stomach plummeted into her boots. Okay.

When they reached the cemetery, she could feel the other’s reactions to the place even without looking at their faces. There was no other way to react than with reverence and awe. It was that kind of place.

Silas had been at his tricks again. Last time the space had looked like some defunct planet, but this time, the area was alive. The tree in the center was in full bloom, large purple flowers practically floating from the energy humming through them. The grass looked lush and green; the headstones that were once cracked and crumbling were righted and whole. Even the giant furrow in the ground had mended itself together.

Isa had the group fan out. Aaron, Astrid, Mallory, and Harlow took up sentry at each corner. Quinn stayed near the tree in the center. Aaron theorized that Quinn’s power was greatest, so he should be nearest to the source of energy, so they could draw from him. Isa, Wren, Rhys, Evangeline, Mace, and Tate also kept to the outer edges, prepared to guard the witches should the Legionaries arrive before they finished raising the coven.

Kai and Tristin stayed close to Ember.

“We’re here,” Ember said, not raising her voice.

Silas materialized as if from thin air, simply appearing between the three of them and Quinn. He acknowledged Quinn first. “You look terrible, sweets.”

He was right. Quinn looked like he’d died three days ago, and somebody forgot to tell him to lie down. His lips were cracked, his skin so pale it looked gray, his eyelids were a bluish-black, but his eyes were lined with red. He stared at Silas with dull eyes but didn’t otherwise acknowledge him.

“Ember, happy to see you honoring our agreement.”

“Can we just get this over with, please?” Ember snapped, lips flattened.

“Well, since you said please, by all means. I know you have other, more pressing matters to attend to this evening.”

She wanted to punch him, but instead, she used her anger, drawing it into herself as she closed her eyes. In the past, she’d had to use ink and charcoal to raise the dead, but over the last few days, she’d honed her skills; she could raise the dead just by looking at them…but she couldn’t see the original coven. She had no frame of reference, no idea who she was pulling from the ground.

All she could do was trust that her magic knew what she needed. As she dropped her guard, her magic flared, and her cousins gasped, her magic colliding with theirs. As one, their magic sizzled, snapping and crackling in the air like a lightning storm. Ember didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t want to know what she was raising, who she was raising.

Even without looking, she could feel them, climbing from their splintered wooden boxes, skeletal fingers, free of flesh, pushing their way through the layers of fetid dirt, to free themselves. The closer they got to the surface, the more her magic throbbed with power. Ember’s breath came in deep, panting gasps as she fought to maintain her connection. It didn’t hurt like it had in the past, but it drained her, pulling everything from her until she felt like she was on the last leg of a long run, and she just had to hang on.

Then everything stopped.

The silence was deafening.

Ember steeled herself as she opened her eyes and faced down twelve intact—but oddly dressed—corpses. She couldn’t help the way her breath hitched. Tristin stared hard at the man at the end, wearing a collarless shirt, skin pulled so tight over his bones it was practically translucent.

Ember could feel Tristin’s fear like her own, and Tristin wasn’t afraid of much. What’s wrong?

It’s him. The one who attacked me at the cemetery that night with Quinn.

You saw him before? When he was still…buried? Kai asked.

“Well done, indeed, Ember,” Silas said, his tone both mocking and reverent. “It’s a shame you’re burdened with that excruciating moral compass.” Ember didn’t justify his comment with an answer. “But, I do admit, it helps when it comes to things like this.” He held his empty palm out to Ember. She stared at him in confusion as an object shimmered into focus.

There was a collective gasp and Ember went lightheaded, her heart rate accelerating far too quickly for her body to keep up. The Blade of Osiris. That wasn’t possible. The blade was…She didn’t know where the blade was. She swallowed hard. She’d never even thought of it. She’d thought Josephine or Miller had taken it. Maybe they had thought so too. What was one more illusion to Silas? This was how she was to die?

“You’re going to kill me and steal my magic? We had a deal. You promised. You already said I can’t control your coven.”

He gave her his most affronted look. “Kill you? Ember, darling, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then he was gone.

Evangeline gasped, drawing all eyes to her. Silas now stood behind the animancer, one arm around her waist keeping her pressed against him and the other clutching the blade. Ember’s hand flew to her mouth as a look of dread crossed the other girl’s face. Her eyes locked with Ember’s and a small whimper fell from her lips just before the dagger pierced Evangeline’s heart.