“Lia?” The knock is soft. “Are you awake?”
I pull myself upright in bed, relieved to hear Aunt Virginia outside my door. Whatever happened in the Otherworlds, she has survived it.
“Yes, come in.”
She steps hesitantly into the room, closing the door behind her and coming to sit on the edge of the bed. She doesn’t say anything right away, choosing her words before finally speaking. “You must learn the ways of the Otherworlds before you travel, Lia.”
I nod. “I know. I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to go. Sometimes, no matter how hard I try, I find myself there through no will of my own.”
“They summon you, Lia. They know they must get to you now, before you become surer, before you establish more control over your powers, before you find all the keys.” Her face is grave. “In time, you shall have more control over the circumstance of your travel, though you may always be vulnerable to the will of the Souls.”
I nod. Her face is haggard, the fine wrinkles about her eyes deeper than they were only a day ago. “Are you all right? Were you hurt?”
She smiles faintly, the story of her exhaustion written in her eyes. “I’m all right. I am not as young as I once was, nor as powerful. There is more than one reason each new generation must assume responsibility for the prophecy.”
“How did you… how did you make them stop?”
She shrugs. “I didn’t. Not really. I shocked your soul into reconnecting with the strand, with the astral chord, and then held them at bay with the little power I have, just long enough for you to escape their grasp. I was once the Guardian, you know.” She says this with a trace of pride.
“So that is how it is, then? Once the next Guardian and Gate have been dispatched, their predecessors hold little dominion over the Otherworlds?”
She looks up, trying to find a way to explain. “In a manner of speaking, yes, though we all retain some measure of our gifts even after our time has passed. Some hold more power than others, but I cannot say why it is true. Your Great-Aunt Abigail, my mother’s sister, was one of the most powerful Guardians in history. She was able to do things… to battle the Souls with strength that is still discussed today among those in the Otherworlds.”
“She left.” Her voice is faint. “When your grandmother… when her sister passed, Aunt Abigail simply vanished.”
I’m not sure what to say to such an odd piece of family history, so I turn to things more immediate. “I’m sorry you had to come, Aunt Virginia… that you had to put yourself in danger. I thought I was safe… the last time…”
A look of alarm settles onto her face. “The last time?”
I chew my lip, feeling guilty that I have not shared everything with Aunt Virginia sooner. That I have not trusted her as I should.
“The last time they came for me they stopped.”
She shakes her head. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I didn’t know I was traveling then. I thought they were giving chase through the skies of my dream. Sonia was the one who warned me. If not for her, I would not have stood a chance. Even so, they were near enough to detain me, but something stopped them at the last moment. It was as if they couldn’t touch me, however much they desired it. I thought it might be the same this time. That’s why I didn’t make my way home with more urgency.” I shrug. “By the time I realized my mistake, it was too late.”
Her face goes very still. “You must be mistaken. What you have described… well, it could only be so through a show of forbidden magic.”
“Forbidden magic?” The words make my skin grow cold. “I know no magic.”
Her breath comes so fast I can see the rise and fall of it in her chest as she stares at the wall behind my bed. She stands suddenly, looking at me with stark fear.
“Lia. Get up and help me.”
“Will you not tell me why we are doing this, Aunt Virginia?”
We have moved the small night tables aside to give us room and are on either side of my heavy bed, preparing to slide it off the rug.
Aunt Virginia meets my eyes over the bed cover, her hair falling loose around her green dressing gown.
“Not yet. I don’t know if I’m right. Besides, we needn’t move it all the way. Just a little. Just enough so that we can pull back the rug a bit.”
“All right. Just enough. Let’s go, then. You push and I’ll pull.”
It is not very heavy, not as heavy as I expect it to be with its great carved posts and headboard. We move it off the rug at a slant, giving us access to the corner. Aunt Virginia bends to it, reaching for the corner quickly, before she pulls her hand back as if reconsidering.
“What is it?”
She raises her face to meet my gaze. “I don’t want to be right. Not about this.”
She takes one audible breath, as if gathering her strength. And then she pulls back the rug, gasping when she sees the thing hidden there. I do not understand the symbol under the rug, the thing carved into the wood of the floor, but even still, the site of it brings goose bumps to the skin of my arms and the back of my neck.
“What is it?” I whisper.
Aunt Virginia does not take her eyes off the mark on the floor. “It is… it was a spell. A spell cast to provide a cloak of protection around you while you sleep.” She looks up at me. “The circle is an ancient symbol of protection, Lia. If one is powerful enough, one can cast a spell that will ensure the protection of any within the circle’s bounds or keep out those one wishes to exclude.”
Her words ring in my ears. I have a sudden recollection of Alice, sitting within the circle of the Dark Room in the dead of night. I remember my own helplessness in the face of it, my inability to cross the line of the circle’s edge. And then I hear Aunt Virginia’s words when talking about my mother: She was a Spellcaster.
I tip my head to get a better look at the symbol. Even with only a portion of it exposed, it does not look like a circle to me. I say as much to Aunt Virginia, and she rises from the floor. She is trembling, shivering as if she is very cold, though the fire was stoked by Ivy less than an hour ago, and the room is warm.
“That is because it is not a circle, Lia. Not anymore. Someone has reversed the spell. Someone has scratched through the circle and broken the spell of protection with which it was cast. Someone who wanted to leave you vulnerable while traveling the Otherworlds.”
I feel her eyes on my face, but I dare not look at her for fear I will either weep or scream. The remnants of the circle itself are faded, carved by someone’s hand long ago. But the gouges that cross it—the scratch marks that defile it—they are recent, as fresh as the circle carved on the floor of the Dark Room.
Aunt Virginia does not need to name the one who has done this, who has exposed me to so much danger. I focus my thoughts instead on the person who tried to protect me, on the one who would go to such trouble to ensure my safety.
“Could my mother really have cast such a spell?”
“She is the only one who had both the power to do it and nothing left to lose.” Aunt Virginia pulls something from a pocket in her dressing gown, holding it toward me. “I have long held this for you. She wrote it before… before she died. Perhaps I should have given it to you sooner. Perhaps I should have taught you the ways of the prophecy sooner. I only wanted you to be old enough, wise enough, to let the truth make you strong instead of letting it ruin you as it did her.”
A cynical laugh escapes my throat. “I feel anything but wise, Aunt Virginia. Anything but strong.”
She reaches out and pulls me into an embrace. “You are wiser than you believe, dear heart. And stronger than you know.” She looks back to the circle. “I am not a Spellcaster, Lia. And even if I were, I would not be permitted to reinstate the spell of protection.”
“Then how did my mother… Wait.” I stop, remembering something. “You said the spell was forbidden.”
Aunt Virginia nods, her face solemn in the half-light of the fire.
“Who would forbid her to use the power that was hers when it seems I am prompted day by day to use the power I wish wasn’t mine at all?”
She lowers herself to the bed, perching on its edge as she explains. “The Otherworlds have a system of justice, of checks and balances, just as ours does. Its rules might seem strange to those not accustomed to the unique aspects of that world, but they are rules nonetheless. Rules set by the Grigori.”
“The Grigori?” The name rings familiar, but I cannot place the reference.
“The Grigori is a council made up of angels from Maari and Katla’s time who did not fall. Now they preside over the Otherworlds, ensuring that each creature and soul there follows a set of guidelines established long ago. Using the magic of the Otherworlds anywhere else is cause for punishment, but I do believe your mother felt she had nothing left to lose when she cast the spell of protection around your bed.”
“But if Mother would have been punished for casting the spell, can we not bring Alice to justice for breaking it?”
Aunt Virginia sighs. “I’m afraid not. As with our world, there are ways to work within the confines of the rules.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand.”
Aunt Virginia meets my eyes. “Alice did not cast a spell of her own, Lia. She simply negated the effects of the spell your mother cast long ago—a spell that in and of itself was forbidden from the beginning.”
I stand up suddenly, my frustration getting the better of me as my voice rises into the room. “So there is nothing? Nothing we can do to stop her? To hold her accountable for placing me in danger?”
She shakes her head. “I’m afraid not. Not this time. It seems Alice has somehow learned the full force of her magic and is well versed in using it within the Grigori’s boundaries. For now, we shall have to hope she slips along the way.” She shrugs helplessly. “There is nothing else to do.”
I stare into the fire, my mind abuzz with this new, unwanted knowledge:
Alice has all the cards.
Alice has power I do not.
And worst of all, Alice knows how to use her power to her aid and my detriment without consequence.
“I am sorry, Lia, but we shall work through this together, I promise. Let us take one step at a time.” She stands to leave. “Luisa and Sonia are at the breakfast table. I have arranged a trip into town with Alice so that you may search for the list without fear of interruption.”
I look up at her, feeling the weight of the tasks in front of me. “And then what? Even if we locate the list, we must still find the two remaining keys. And even if we find them, we do not know what to do with them or how to end the prophecy.”
She presses her lips together before answering. “I don’t know. Perhaps we can locate Aunt Abigail. And then… well, there are always the sisters….”
This mention of the sisters gets my attention, for it is the same term used by Madame Berrier. “The sisters?”
She sighs. “Let us just say that there are those in the world with knowledge of the prophecy. Those with gifts that might be useful. Some are sisters of previous generations, and others… well, others simply seek to use their gifts for the good of us all. But we shall have to leave that for now, Lia. All right? Let us find the list. Let us find the keys. You shall have to trust me—if you call on them when the time comes, there are those who will help you.”
I suppose I am a coward, for I am glad to allow the details of this new revelation to wait for later. “I trust you, Aunt Virginia. But…”
“What is it?”
“What of my night travel? How do I prevent myself from falling unprotected into the Plane while I sleep?”
Her face darkens. “I don’t know, Lia. I wish I could give you an answer—some sure way to avoid travel. But with the power of the Souls so determined to call you to the Plane, it is all I can do to say you must try to resist.”
I nod as she rises and makes her way out of the room, leaving me alone with my mother’s letter. My hands tremble as I break the wax seal on the envelope. I unfold the paper to the slender, curving script that was my mother’s, knowing that I may well hold in my hands the long-sought answers to her death—and her life.