Phoenix collapsed in the tunnels as soon as we left the chambers with a trapped laugh rolling out of his mouth.
The drugs Clarence had given him for the pain, and to keep him from killing Kane, turned him into an incapable sot. However, it helped him maintain his composure for as long as he could in front of the Order and Sacred Sea, sure that any weakness he displayed was a vulnerability. As far as the people in the chamber understood it, Phoenix had not succumbed to what they did to him, nor did they see he was on drugs to hide it.
“Did you see Kane’s face?” Beck muttered, swinging a look at Julian.
“Yeah, he looked like he was about to piss his pants.” Julian tossed Phoenix’s arm over his shoulder to support him. “For those ten minutes, you had me fooled, Nix.”
“For a second, you almost broke like Danvers,” Zephyr countered from a distance.
Phoenix winced, a throbbing wracking his head as he let out a painful groan.
A moment later, Zephyr turned and pressed his hand on Phoenix’s shoulder, trying to regain his attention by squeezing it. Phoenix’s spine stiffened, and he raised his chin to look Zephyr in the eyes.
“I hope this pain lingers,” Zephyr said. “I hope it stays to remind you of the death you escaped. This way, the next time you see her, you’ll think twice and not act upon impulse. Unless you’re willing to die twice for a girl who would rather watch your skull collapse than betray her coven.”
Weeping Hollow was decades of dust. Each second here uncovered more in another corner. The covens in this town had a centuries-old feud dating back to my ancestors, mainly over what caused most bloodshed: power, control, money. The feud had little to do with the curse. While Sacred Sea had not cursed us, they had been using it as a weapon to maintain fear of the Heathens in the town ever since.
I’d learned Adora’s family were founders of Sacred Sea. She was a girl who never seemed to care about power or money, but the Heathens had stolen a life from her, and that was enough for anyone.
It would be unbearable to live here and not desire to be next to her, to hear her name and pretend to feel nothing, to see her with him and not start a war. I’d much rather lie at the bottom of the sea. At least there, it was peaceful.
“Give your heart, in its entirety, to your coven,” Zephyr reminded him. “If your heart should be full of something, let it be full of what’s worthy. Leave it empty, and there’s room for sinister things to grow, fester, and break you.”
“What if the heart is capable of neither? What if it’s damaged beyond repair?” I asked.
“It’s not,” Zephyr replied. “One cannot live without a heart; but without a soul, most certainly.”
I looked around at the four of them. “This is who we choose to become?” I asked in disbelief. “We are as barbaric as they, only protecting ourselves and not giving a speck of shit for our humanity. No wonder we’ve been cast aside as monsters.”
Zephyr was looking at me. “It seems there is a misunderstanding.” Silence bloated in the tunnel as his voice called the attention of all. There was an air about it that pulled you in, his words demanding to be heard without ever raising or changing his tone.
“We were not cast aside as monsters,” he corrected. “They never decided what we were, and neither did we. We were born a cursed thing with a beating heart and no right to use it. We were born Heathens without a right to put ourselves or distractions such as love first. Your life and your body does not belong to you. It belongs to a coven. And at this moment, Danvers, the fate of the entire coven you were born to protect, yet one you can never get close to, is in danger. Let that sink in.”
My eyes narrowed. “Apologies, I was under the impression it was the fate of an entire town depending on us, lest you prefer to die as self-serving monsters, too.”
We stared at one another for a few challenging seconds.
Then the darkness edging his gaze fell away.
He stepped closer and grabbed the back of my neck. “Stop calling yourself a monster. You are not a monster. I’ve seen monster, as you have last night,” he said low, laying his palm against my chest. “It is inside us, here in our hearts, where monsters are born. Should this evil arise, you can choose to protect it, make excuses for it, justify it, or you can choose to banish it. Either way, what you feed is what stays, and those whom you allow to surround you is what you become.” He nodded. “All right?”
Zephyr had boxed out the others around us to speak directly to me.
He touched me with compassion. He looked into my eyes.
It was the second time in my life that another man had spoken to me with empathy as though I was human, respected, cared for. The first was Ambrose when I was ten, and I didn’t think Zephyr realized how much that meant to me.
He patted my chest before letting me go.
The others exchanged glances.
Then we began our walk again.
When we reached Norse Woods and exited the tunnel, daylight inhaled us in one breath. Phoenix was moving slower with his hand permanently clutching his head and his jaw clenching.
His ankle buckled, and Julian lifted him upright.
“Give me a minute,” he seethed between his teeth. “I just need ... a break.”
Upon collapsing to the ground, Phoenix rested against a tree. The others gazed quietly to the east, where a neighborhood pressed up against Norse Woods.
Under the dull sky, lights glowed from their windows. My mind wandered to what it must have been like to have been raised here, among a coven and the Heathens. I wondered what my life would have been like.
The silence was broken when Phoenix began to laugh.
His shoulders shook as he dropped his head against the tree, his laughter swelling.
“He’s so high,” Beck said with a laugh to Julian.
Zephyr faced Phoenix, irritated. “And why are you laughing?”
Phoenix tried to contain himself. “Nothing, I was just thinking.”
“Well, spit it out,” Zephyr insisted.
Phoenix erupted in laughter again, and the rest of the Heathens couldn’t help but find it amusing.
“I was just thinking about how I just fucking died, man, and now I’m sitting here, high as a kite and chilling with a walking, talking mummy who brought me back to life.” He raised his palm to me, eyes watering. “Welcome to Weeping fucking Hollow.”
A smile broke on their faces, all seriousness evaporating.
Phoenix’s laughter died. “So, Stone. Tell me, did this love affair with Adora start on Bone Island?”
He said Adora, and my bones jumped under my skin.
Just the sound of her name leaving another man’s mouth made me want to shatter his teeth. I, however, did not respond, not wanting to use us to fill silence.
Zephyr was spinning the point of a knife into a tree, watching me. “How did you get to Weeping Hollow, anyway?”
Phoenix nudged his head. “Did you hitch a ride on Noah’s Ark?”
I looked at Julian. “Are all Heathens this ignorant, or just the one?”
Phoenix chuckled. “So, let me get this straight,” he continued. “You were basically dead for a hundred years and still able to suck face with Adora Sullivan.”
I narrowed my eyes, heat rising in my blood. “Clearly you fancy being beaten to a pulp.”
“Here we go,” Zephyr said, bored. “I’m sure Stone’s trysts are no more surprising than the thought of the youngest Sullivan lusting over your insignificant ass.”
Phoenix hung an arm off his bent knee. “No, Zeph, I honestly want to know the secret. A century old ... talks like a nineteenth-century poet.” Phoenix’s eyes snapped to me. “You fucking Shakespeare-d her, didn’t you?” I shook my head, and Phoenix slapped a palm against his chest. “You did!” He laughed. “O vagina, wherefore art thou vagina?!”
The laughs sputtered at first—a collection of air escaping pressed lips. Then three of them burst in unison, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or drive my fist into his jaw.
Julian smiled amusedly at me. “Ignore them. They wouldn’t know what to do with a vagina if it sat on their face.”
Phoenix coughed, laughter dying as he struggled to stand. “Just do us a favor and stay away from her window, Romeo.”
And after a short walk, we reached a cabin.
A girl with long hair as white as mine stepped out. She slowly descended the porch steps, her attention never leaving me. She was light skinned, almost as white as my hair, and as she stepped closer, the color of pale blue flooded her eyes.
This wasn’t the first time I had seen them and felt my chest on fire from frostbite. It wasn’t even the second.
I’d been reacquainted with her the moment I stepped into the ballroom on the first night I arrived in town, but at this moment, her eyes were hitting mine, rushing ice-cold water into my lungs, stealing all air from a desperate soul.
I’m alive again, but it won’t last long.
I can’t recall how many times I’ve died. It all blends together. But as I lay here, at the bottom, the sun threads a beam of light into the ocean above.
I haven’t felt its warmth on my face, seen the aurora lights, or tasted a kiss.
I haven’t really lived at all.
These are my thoughts as death sneaks up on me again.
I’m running out of air, holding my drawing close in my mind.
Death ridicules my heart for trying, but it beats anyway until it can’t anymore. Just as my lungs continue to inhale even though there is no air. I have given up, but no one can tell their heart to stop beating, no one can tell their lungs to stop working.
At last, the burn squeezes me.
When light comes again, I’m back in her room, shivering, cold, alone.
I’m angry and sad and defeated, but I’m angry, and angry means I feel something other than the pain, and emotion means there’s hope.
Something inside me is still holding on to hope.
When Fallon comes into the room, she sees me, then closes the door.
She’s bothered, I can tell from her face. But she isn’t crying today.
We don’t have enough time. We never do.
I scream to let her know what I see. An ocean. I’m in an ocean.
But it’s not a scream that comes out.
“Hi,” she says to me, casually as though we’re friends, while I’m in absolute torment. “School sucked.”
“Find me,” I chant over and over through chattering teeth.
And then life steals me.
I’m back in the ocean, dying all over again.
Julian appeared at her side. “This is—”
“Fallon,” I finished.
I never understood why it was her my soul was anchored to until this moment. Fallon was the moonchild in Mother’s journal. Her bloodline was the cause of my curse, and she was the same girl Mother set out to kill to break it. This was what had left me trapped in misery for over a hundred years.
From the corner of my eye, Julian’s gaze hit mine.
“My fiancé,” he claimed. “But I suppose the two of you have already met?”
“Once upon a time,” Fallon said quietly with tears in her eyes.
She walked closer and looked up at me nervously.
Almost as though she wanted to make sure I was real.
I couldn’t stand the burn in my chest, so I looked away.
Her fingers brushed my hand, and relief consumed her. A faint smile blossomed on her lips for a fraction of a second before I pulled away.
I took a step back. “Don’t touch me.”
Hurt consumed her features. “You’re mad at me?”
“I’m indifferent toward you,” I corrected her through a clenched jaw. “And honestly, I want nothing to do with you.”
“Hey,” Julian reached out a hand, stepping closer to her, protective.
“I thought you were already dead,” she explained, coming from around Julian. “I thought there was no hope because I couldn’t help you.”
“You’re the ghost that haunted Fallon,” Julian gathered.
“But you never died,” she concluded, confused.
“I did die,” I told her. “I’ve died again and again for over a hundred years.” I fell back a step. “You were too selfish, wrapped up in your own sorrow to hear what I was saying. And then you gave up on me.”
The five of us sat around a fire behind Julian’s cabin.
We were only staying for a short while. Soon, we had to leave for Goody Estate, where Zephyr’s father had opened his doors to all of Norse Woods to keep one another safe through the night. There was a reason the Heathens brought me here. There was something they wanted to do before I met the rest of the coven.
I gazed into the embers, the fire heating my face as winter iced the nape of my neck. Across from me, Zephyr sat, and I watched him through the flames.
“Why does he still wear a mask?” I asked Julian to my right.
“He’s still cursed,” he said, steering his attention to Zephyr, who was hovering his palm over the flames. “And before you ask, no, we don’t know why, nor do we have time to figure it out at the moment. Our priority is getting rid of the Shadows.” Julian leaned back and drummed his fingers against his thigh. “Zephyr isn’t thrilled about it.”
“This explains him being an inconceivable shit-sack at times.”
Julian chuckled. “No, he’s still an asshole, but for some reason, it’s not as terrible with you.” He raised his drink and pointed his pinky in Beck’s direction. “Baby Beck is the youngest—a heart of gold, quiet. If you ever need emotional support or a listening ear, he’s your man.
“Phoenix has been the life of the four-man show and is down for just about anything. He’ll also be the first one to tell you how it is—all the things you don’t want to hear—and nine times out of ten, he’s right. But he never takes his own advice. An honest hypocrite.”
He nudged his chin to Zephyr. “Zeph Goody, the egocentric shit-sack, as you say, has to be the smartest man in every room.” He laughed. “The only thing he loves is the sound of his own voice and comes across as not giving a damn about anything, but he will be the first to show up if you need him. Because he hates being alone,” he said. “But if he ever lets you in, you’ll find he actually is the smartest guy in the room.” Julian shrugged. “There’s something inside him. He just doesn’t want anyone to see it.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“Me?” Julian grinned. “I’m the handsome one.”
Beck, who was walking behind us, hit the back of Julian’s head. “Don’t let him fool you. Julian is the brooding hero.”
Julian raised a brow. “Brooding?”
“Brooding,” Beck confirmed.
“I’m not brooding. Romeo here is brooding,” Julian said, slapping the side of my thigh with the back of his hand. “Just look at him. Eternal RBF.”
The two chuckled. It was strange to be sitting here surrounded by them.
They accepted me, but vile things had accepted me as well. A murderous tribe. A coffin. A curse. Accepted didn’t mean family.
“But I want to know about you,” Julian continued. “How long have you known you could resurrect the dead?”
“A long time. If I’m honest, sometimes I wish I couldn’t,” I admitted. “Each time I’ve done it, it felt as though I’ve pulled darkness from somewhere, and when it’s over, not all of it truly leaves me. Something tells me it cannot be good.”
“There’s always a consequence. A balance,” Julian said upon a breath, looking up at the graying sky. “Look, we don’t have much time left, but before we do this, you need to know something,” Julian said, seeming on edge, and uneasiness crept between us. “I’m the one who killed your mother.”
My jaw tightened as I studied him.
I thought back to Mother’s plan written in the journal I’d found at the lighthouse. It made sense why Julian was the one to do it. “Because she would’ve hurt Fallon.”
Julian’s brow jumped. “She would have killed Fallon,” he corrected. “How did you know?”
“That’s not important.” I leaned in to catch his silvery eyes. “But my question is, how long did you know I was frozen somewhere in a box before you decided to come search for me?”
Julian’s mouth parted, not expecting it.
He adjusted in his chair, watching his hands rub together as he thought. “A few weeks,” he finally said, his silver eyes meeting mine again. “I didn’t tell the others because, unlike them, I’m loyal to Fallon. If I brought you back and you thought you knew how to break the curse, it would have put her life at risk.” He shook his head. “I would rather have lived in this curse and taken my secret to the grave if it meant keeping her alive.” He grabbed my shoulder. “As soon as the curse broke, I wanted to come for you, but the Shadows took us all by surprise. We didn’t know what we were up against.”
“You realize that if you and Fallon didn’t break the curse, you would have eventually died, taking your secret to the grave, and I would have been trapped in the Atlantic for eternity.”
“Let’s just be grateful it never had to come to that,” he said, squeezing my shoulder upon standing. “Now, c’mon. Let’s get this over with.”
The five of us stood around the fire, and Phoenix blew against it, the flames lurching up into the air and towering over us.
We looked around the circle, seeing no empty spaces.
I couldn’t see it, but I felt misery melting from the Heathens. Like fighting against something for a lifetime, then finally being granted peace.
Julian stepped forward and walked around the fire. “Twelve years ago, after Johnny died, the four of us stood here in this spot, scarred our palms, and made a pact, swearing to one another and ourselves that we would do whatever it took to break the curse. Then we sealed it with our blood.” He looked inside his hand. “Today we stand here, curse broken—”
Zephyr cleared his throat. “A half-ass job, if I do say so myself.”
Julian side-eyed him, then stopped in front of Phoenix, taking his palm.
The two looked at each other before Julian sliced down the center of it. Phoenix did not make a face of agony, and blood pooled in his palm and dripped from his wrist.
“Today, we make a new pact,” Julian said, moving on to Zephyr. “Most people in this town will hold on to the bad we and our ancestors have caused, and not be so quick to forgive because pain and grief are all they know. If it bleeds, it suffers, we have to remind ourselves. We are human. And like them, we are not perfect. Like them, we make mistakes, and no matter how hard we try, we won’t always get it right. As long as we continue moving forward with compassion and good intentions, these mistakes cannot define us, as they do not define them.
“So, we will not only forgive them for the retribution that will surely come upon us, but we must also forgive ourselves.” Julian stopped in front of me, holding the bloody knife between us. His silver eyes challenged me. “Nos omnes connexae.”
“We are all connected,” I whispered with an exhale, settling into place.
Julian grinned. “That’s right. It seems the Heathen spirit found you after all.”
“May I?” I asked, nudging my head toward the knife as I removed my glove, preferring to do it myself.
Julian handed it over. “Welcome home, Danvers.”
I pushed my coat’s sleeve up to my elbow, and when I looked down, a white scar was already slashed across my palm.
My breath halted as I was taken back to the day in the cave.
I wish I’d known then, when she was holding a knife to my throat, lying naked with me to keep me warm, and telling me stories about pirates and sirens, that we were writing the beginning of our own.
“What’s that?” Julian asked, looking at my palm.
I smiled. “It appears my loyalty lies elsewhere as well.”
Fallon emerged from the back door, flying down the steps, a cloud of white moving across the clearing, tears raining down.
“Julian!” she cried.
Julian turned and instantly rushed to her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Fallon could hardly get a word out, could barely catch a breath.
“It’s Winta,” she said, her voice shattered. “She’s dead.”
Julian’s gaze darted to us, then back to Fallon. “The Shadows?”
She shook her head, her tears falling, her cries gentle.
It took me back to when she was a little girl again.
“No, she wasn’t even sleeping. It was something else,” she said, breathy. Julian rubbed her back, trying to get her to breathe steadily enough to tell us what had happened. “Kioni said not long after Stone left, her mom just dropped dead. No explanation at all.”
Julian’s gaze swept toward me with horror in his eyes.
My heart pounded, not wanting to believe it.
“No,” I thought I’d said, unsure if it was in my mind or in the air.
Could I have taken her life as a result of bringing Phoenix back?
Julian exhaled though his spine had become stiff. “A consequence. A balance.”