It is later than usual when I finally emerge from my room.

The door to the guest room is open, Luisa’s and Sonia’s beds already neatly made, as I make my way down the hall. I have every intention of joining them, feeling badly that I have slept late and left them to their own devices.

But that is before I see the half-open door to Alice’s room.

Though I can see only a small portion of her chamber from my vantage point, her room emanates an aura of emptiness. I know, even from the hallway, that Alice is not there.

Looking quickly down the hall to be sure no one is coming, I step into the room and close the door quietly behind me. I stand for a moment, surveying Alice’s room. It has been years since I have spent any time in it. It is different. Older. I stop to remember the years when toy animals and fine porcelain dolls sat atop the bureau and writing desk. But remembrances are a luxury I cannot afford, and I move farther into the room with careful footsteps.

I don’t know where the list might be, but the possibility that Alice has somehow found it ahead of me cannot be ignored. I begin with the bedside table, opening the small drawer identical to the one in my own room. In it are some of Alice’s stationery, a quill and ink pot, and a jar of rose-scented hand cream. I continue searching, resisting the pull of disappointment as I search the wardrobe, the desk, and even under the bed.

The bureau is the only place left, the only remaining hope for finding the list in Alice’s room. I begin with the top drawers, working my way down to the larger, deeper drawers at the bottom. My fingers slide between nightgowns and capes, feeling for a slip of paper that might have the names of the keys. Instead, my hand closes on something heavier, wrapped in cloth at the back of the largest bottom drawer.

I pull the bundle from the drawer, surprised at its weight, and rest it atop the bureau for a better look. The object gives me pause, for surely it is not the list. But curiosity gets the better of me, and I lift the edges of cloth one by one until a knife is revealed in its center. I draw in my breath at the sight of it. It is no ordinary knife, but a rather large one with many-colored jewels inset into its hilt. I reach toward it, pulling my hand back when I come into contact with the ornate handle. I touch it again, feeling the tremor of raw power that pulses through the handle and up into my arm.

I look at the door over my shoulder, knowing I must hurry. I grab the knife with authority, my body humming with new energy as I lift it off the bureau for a better look. What I see on its blade freezes the blood in my veins.

Wood shavings cling to the shimmering silver. They are small, but I know them for what they are, and now I know the knife for what it is: the knife used to reverse Mother’s spell of protection. The knife used to defile the circle on the floor of my room.

Rage surges through my body. It is far more powerful than the energy that courses through the knife, and I carefully wrap the sharp blade in the cloth, putting it in my drawstring bag and closing the drawer to Alice’s bureau. I do not feel guilty taking such a thing from Alice. A thing used for so dangerous and evil a purpose.

I make my way from the room without a backward glance, leaving the door wide open. Perhaps it is reckless, but the battle lines have been clearly drawn. There is no longer cause for pretense between my sister and me.

“You’ve been keeping secrets.” Henry’s voice comes to me from the parlor as I step off the staircase.

I take a couple of steps back to locate his voice. He sits near the window in the parlor, already bundled in his winter coat and scarf for the ride to town with Alice and Virginia.

Assembling a smile on my face, I move into the room. “Whatever do you mean, Henry?”

His face is somber. “You know.”

My own smile falters. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

He lowers his voice to a whisper. “You’re the bad one, Lia. Aren’t you?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, Henry. I don’t feel bad.”

His nod is solemn, as if this makes perfect sense. “Only time will tell, Lia.”

“Only time will tell? And who told you that, Henry?”

“Aunt Virginia,” he says simply. “She said there is no sure way to know who the bad one is, even with the mark. She said that only time will tell.”

I am surprised by his knowledge, but there is not much to say in the face of such wisdom. “I do believe she is right, Henry. I suppose we must wait and see.” I turn to leave.

“I love you anyway, Lia,” he calls after me. “Until time tells, I mean.”

I turn to him and smile, loving him more in this moment than any other. “Until time tells then, Henry, and beyond. I love you as well.”

“However are we supposed to find anything here, Lia? I’ve never seen so many books, not even at Wycliffe!” Luisa turns from the bookshelf, leaning against it and putting a hand to her forehead in exasperation.

I look up from Father’s desk, sitting back in the leather chair. “Well, I don’t know where else to search. If Father were to hide something, I feel sure it would be here. The library is where he spent his time. Everything that is dearest to him is in this room.”

“And yet, we have searched every conceivable location here!” Luisa says.

Sonia stands suddenly. “Here. We’ve searched every conceivable location here.”

Luisa shrugs impatiently. “Yes. That’s what I said.”

But I think I understand to what Sonia alludes. “Wait a minute… what do you mean, Sonia?”

“We haven’t searched his chambers,” she says.

I wave away the implication. “Yes, but the library was Father’s sanctuary. And it’s where the book was found.”

Sonia nods. “Exactly. Is that not more reason why the list could be hidden elsewhere?”

I chew my lip, contemplating her words. I do not want to admit that it is a possibility, not because it isn’t, but because violating my father’s privacy by searching his room gives me pause, even now that he is gone. Still, I cannot ignore the merit of the idea.

“You’re right, of course. If the list is not to be found here, his chamber is the next logical place.”

Luisa levels her gaze at me. “So,” she says. “What are we waiting for?”

Without the fire to keep it warm, Father’s room is cold as a tomb.

Luisa and Sonia enter without hesitation, but I close the door behind me and stand with my back to it for a moment. I survey the room, realizing it is unfamiliar to me because I so rarely had occasion to enter it when Father was alive. He slept here, that is all. All of his living was done in the library and the rest of the house with me, Alice, and Henry.

And yet, when I finally move into the room, I cannot help but feel that an important part of Father did reside in this room. Perhaps it was a secret part of himself. A part that he kept hidden away from the rest of us. But as my eyes light on the picture of my mother on the night table, the books stacked neatly next to it, I begin to realize it was no less important for its secrecy.

“Lia?” Sonia is looking at me from the center of the room, palms up in question. “Where shall we begin?”

It takes me moment to come back to the reason for our visit to Father’s room, and when I do, I find I have no more idea where to begin than Sonia.

I shrug. “I don’t know. The bureau, I suppose. Under the mattress?”

Luisa steps to the bed, kneeling before it and slipping a hand between the two mattresses. “I’ll begin here. Lia, why don’t you search the more private of your father’s things?”

“I’m going to feel behind the wardrobe,” Sonia says, moving toward the armoire in the corner of the room.

I stand in the center of the room for a moment, trying to overcome my feelings of guilt at invading my father’s privacy, even for a reason as important as this one. Finally, I remind myself that the list will not present itself to me, and I set to work.

I have never so much as looked inside a man’s dresser. I don’t know what I expected, but the neat rows of dark stockings and suspenders are a sharp contrast to the frilly lace and silk of my mother’s things. With every step I take closer to the prophecy, I feel as if I peel back the layers of my parents, seeing them as the man and woman they were instead of my mother and father. It is a strange and oddly touching journey, and I endeavor to be respectful as I move Father’s things aside in the drawers.

It doesn’t take long. There are only four drawers and it quickly becomes apparent that there is nothing unusual in any of them. I spin to face the room, leaning against the bureau. Luisa sits on the bed and Sonia stands against the wardrobe, arms folded in front of her chest as she chews the corner of her thumb. They don’t need to say a thing.

“Nothing?” I ask.

Sonia shakes her head. “I even opened the wardrobe and went through the shirts and trousers. There’s nothing there.”

Luisa sighs. “And I’ve checked between the mattresses, under the bed, and behind the headboard. I’m afraid I’ve had no better luck.”

I fight the frustration that has become my familiar companion since discovering the prophecy and my place in it. With every step forward, it seems we take two back. We need some assistance, something to match the aid Alice has had from the Souls, thus far.

I look first at Sonia and then at Luisa. “There is one person who knew for certain where the list was hidden before my father died.”

Luisa breaks in, her voice firm. “We cannot risk Sonia again to speak to your father, Lia. Not after last night. We shall have to find another way.”

I do not intend to risk Sonia’s welfare again. Her face is still wan, dark crescents shading the skin under her eyes. She has not said it, but it is clear that contact with the Beast has sapped her strength. Asking her to speak with Father was careless, but putting her at risk again is not an option now that I am fully aware of the danger.

But I do not have to say aloud any of these things. Sonia looks into my eyes and sees clearly the plan that is written there. “It isn’t me she means to risk.”

Luisa shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

Sonia pulls her gaze from mine and looks at Luisa. “Sittings are not the only way to make contact with the dead.”

“My father is in the Otherworlds, Luisa. Isn’t that right, Sonia?”

She nods. “Somewhere. Yes.”

And now Luisa understands. She shakes her head, her brown eyes wide. “No! No, no, no. You will not travel willingly.” She jumps to her feet. “Didn’t you hear what your aunt said just last night? It’s dangerous, Lia. For all of us but most of all for you. No. It is simply out of the question. We cannot risk your discovery by the Souls. We’ll have to find another way.”

Sonia sighs as if feeling compelled to say something she does not really want to say. “Only… there might be a way… a way in which Lia could find her father quickly and avoid the Souls.”

If there is a way to find my father and determine the location of the list, any way at all, I will do it. I meet her eyes. “Tell me.”

“There are rules to traveling the Plane, and one of them is that no soul can occupy more than one of the seven Otherworlds at once, though all may travel freely among them. If you can locate your father in one world while the Souls remain in another… well, it may be possible to obtain the location of the list quickly before you are detected and detained.”

Something she says makes me stand up straighter. “But why only seven worlds? I thought you said there are eight?”

“The last world is reserved for the dead. Once one’s soul crosses into the final world, there is no returning to this one.”

I shudder at her words. “Is it even possible, then, to meet my father in the Otherworlds since he is dead, and I am not?”

Sonia nods. “Your father has not yet crossed. We would not have been able to speak to him if he had. Those who wait willingly in the Otherworlds do so for a reason. Your father must be waiting to help you. Once he crosses, you will not be able to speak to him again until you join him in the final world. But the other seven worlds are… in-between places… in-between places in which you can meet.” She stops, looking at me kindly as if wanting to ease my disappointment before the words are even spoken. “But… you are as yet untrained, Lia.”

“I know, but this is our only hope. We must find the names of the two remaining keys. We cannot go any further without them, and the only way to find them is to first find the list.” I ponder it a moment more before making my decision. “It is the only way. You said it is possible to control one’s travel, didn’t you? That one can fall willingly into the Otherworlds? You can help me get there, Sonia. You can help me find my father. You can tell me what to do.”

She doesn’t want to agree. Her nod comes slowly and with effort. “But you will be taking a grave risk. The Souls are waiting. Samael himself is waiting. He is waiting for you, Lia. He will try to detain your soul in the Otherworlds. If he should succeed… if he should succeed, he will take you to the Void and you will be Samael’s prisoner for eternity. Do you understand what that means, Lia? You will never be able to cross into the final world. Never.” She shakes her head, coming to a decision. “No. You must not travel alone. Not yet. I will go with you. ”

But her words do not sway me. I have made my decision.

I shake my head. “No. I will go alone.”

A half hour later, I lie on the leather sofa in the darkened library, the drapes pulled against the afternoon light. Sonia kneels beside the sofa, her eyes earnest and worried.

“When I say, close your eyes and empty your mind of everything but the place you wish to go, the face you wish to see. We will count together until I say stop. Try to hear your own breath, to feel the beat of your heart. I know it sounds… well, it must sound mad! But that’s what you must do. Reduce yourself to the workings of your physical body while you empty your mind of all but that which you desire to see.” She pauses before continuing. “Be careful what you think about while traveling. Thoughts have power, Lia. Especially in the Otherworlds.”

I store away this new rule for later use and feel a moment of panic as fresh questions arise. “Wait a minute. Must I travel through the worlds in some sort of order while searching for Father?” I remember the dead field where I met Alice. “And what if I find myself in the wrong place? If I cannot find Father, or worse yet, if I arrive in a frightening place altogether?”

“You may travel anywhere you like, though it will take some time to gain control over your destination. Because you are unpracticed, you must try to… to call your Father to you. He will feel your presence on the Plane. This knowledge, this… energy will bring you together in the right world. He will find his way to you if he can. And if he doesn’t, you are in the wrong world and must leave immediately for another before the Souls detect your presence.”

“What if… what if the Souls find me? Or Samael? How will I get away?”

Sonia chews her lip, thinking. “You will have to set your feet on solid ground at the first possible moment. We are always vulnerable on the Plane. It is not our natural place. But we are most vulnerable of all when flying. Those who live in the Otherworlds know its ways. They know how to navigate its terrain, how to locate the things they seek. And how to bring harm to those they view as intruders. If you become trapped by the Souls, or Samael, or anyone else—”

I prop myself up on my elbows in protest. “Anyone else?”

She places a warm hand on my arm. “The Otherworlds are full of spirit beings. Some will seek to help you, others to make simple mischief, and still others to do real harm. Even experienced travelers must be wary on the Plane.”

This new knowledge serves only to spur me forward, anxious to have the deed done so that I may return to the safety of Birchwood. “All right. Tell me how I can protect myself then.”

Sonia’s brow wrinkles as she searches for words. “All living things give off energy of some kind, and this includes those whose spirits dwell in the Otherworlds. When they seek to cause you harm, they do so by harnessing the energy they have. To protect yourself, you have to do the same.”

I nod, thinking of the Souls that swirled above Alice and me in the dead field, the force of them, the power that made me weak-willed and complacent. “How do I manage such a thing? To… harness such energy?”

She taps her fingers nervously on the sofa. “That is the part that’s so difficult to explain. I’ve been doing it since I was small, so it isn’t an easy thing to name, but think of the energy you harbor as a seed, a tiny seed lying at the very center of your being. The seed is small, invisible even, but within it is more force, more strength, more light, than you can imagine. When you feel threatened, you have to see the seed unraveling, opening to reveal the living thing within.”

I don’t want her to know that this seems very fantastical. That the idea of an invisible seed protecting me against the force of the Souls seems farfetched in the extreme, and that is putting it quite nicely. Instead I nod, opening my mind to her words, reminding myself that I would not have believed any of it—the mark, the medallion, the prophecy—a few short weeks ago. And yet it has all proven true.

She continues as if she can hear my disbelief. “You mustn’t simply think it. You have to see it, all right? You have to envision the seed opening, allowing your energy to flow outward from it, creating a barrier that will allow you time to escape.”

“Is that my only hope then? Escape?”

She nods. “For now. You’ve not the strength or skill for anything else. Just finish the task at hand, Lia. Find your father. Ask him where he hid the list. And then come back without delay.”