Everything was ready.
Jember and I had made eleven shields—one amulet in the doorway of the game room, the other ten in the hall about five feet apart from each other, creating small pockets of protection in case the hyena got out of the room. The weapons we’d found were dispersed throughout the room and down the hall. Candles were lit everywhere, casting dancing shadows, creating haunting figures where there were none.
“It’s not too late to kill me,” Magnus said for the twentieth time tonight. He was lying on his side on the game room couch, a blanket pulled up to his chin despite the amulet Jember had made to warm the room. “Look at all the weapons in the room.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine forty-five. “It’ll be over soon, Magnus,” I said, barely processing my own words.
God. Over for whom?
I rushed out of the room, anxiety making my heart flutter.
Jember sat in a chair out in the hall, beside the open door so the hyena wouldn’t see him. He had a lightweight rack around his neck over his amulet, which housed the different colored threads he needed for easy access, and the amulet I’d started in his lap. I’d put a few more in my satchel, just in case he needed to start over, but Jember was used to only getting one at a time from the church. He’d never been allowed to mess up.
“Are you nervous?” I asked, hugging my arms in my light long-sleeved shirt.
“It’s better not to focus on how you feel,” Jember said, sounding as if he felt nothing.
“Well, I’m scared,” I said, the words falling out of me, despite his instruction.
“You’re scared? You did this to us. Besides, there are more important things than fear right now.”
“That’s my line.” I tried to swallow my fear, but it only sat in my stomach. “Can we pray together?”
Jember cringed. “God hasn’t heard me for quite some time.”
“He hears you. Maybe you’re just not listening when he responds.”
“I don’t hear a lot of things over this,” he said, patting his knee.
“Have you ever thought that maybe the last twenty years were preparing you for tonight?”
He grinned the slightest bit. “Too existential, Andi. Another time, when we’re not about to release a demon.”
I sighed and leaned in the doorway to see the clock. Twelve minutes to go. “I’m going to pray for you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“Because you need it more than I do.”
“Your inability to think of yourself first is what got us into this.”
“And it’s going to get us out.” I laid my hands on his shoulders. “Remember in the Bible when Job was sick and had lost his crops, his children, everything? He didn’t get well until after he prayed for his friends.”
“I think you misread the story.”
“Almighty God,” I started. “Give Jember wisdom and courage for when it gets scary. Protect him, despite his shaky belief. I know he still loves You. He’s just angry because of his pain.”
“Unnecessary,” Jember said with a sigh, “and we don’t have time.”
“And when this is over, grant him all the desires of his heart.” I took his hand and put it on my shoulder. “Now you pray for me.”
“I told you, He doesn’t hear me.”
“He will.” I waited quietly for him to start. “Just speak from the heart.”
Jember sighed. “Listen…” He was quiet for a moment. “This little girl thinks highly of You. If You won’t do anything for me, at least do it for her. Protect her when the amulets fail … because if she dies, I’m officially through with You.” He dropped his hand from my shoulder and took a deep breath. The prayer empowered me, but somehow he looked a little shaken. He jerked his head at the door. “Get back in there.”
I nodded and went in. Saba gave me a sad smile, reaching for my hand. I sat in the chair beside her and took it, clung to it, suddenly realizing it might be the last time I’d get a chance.
And then, all too soon, the clock struck ten.
I stood and picked up one of the swords on the floor, whispering along with the clock’s strikes.
“Four … three … two…”
The echo of the last dhong was cut off by the rushing wind in the hallway.
Magnus squirmed beneath the blanket and, a moment later, the form of something shorter stood in his place. The hyena shook the blanket off, letting it slide to the floor, then immediately locked its gaze on me.
I held the sword out in front of me. There was no time to question how to use it. The hyena charged at me. It slammed into my shield and I slashed at it with the sword. There was no blood, only a messy, gaping gash, like a poorly butchered piece of meat. But it barely paused, charging at my shield again as the wound knitted itself together. I slashed again and again. Five times, and this time it had to stop for a moment until its eyes were whole again. I took that brief moment to put a little more distance between us.
Saba stepped in front of it before it could go after me again, and it broke off her arm with its powerful jaw and threw it across the room, but she still got it around the neck with her other arm, holding it at bay until it could break free.
We alternated like that for a while. It would charge my shield, breaking some away but getting it close enough for me to slash up its face. I would retreat, Saba would hold it back for a moment, and we would repeat. But I could tell early on my amulet wasn’t going to last an hour. Not even close.
My shield was nearly depleted, so I took my amulet off and threw it at the hyena as I ran.
It charged and I bolted out into the hall, skidding and knocking over the candles on the floor, which sent frantic shadows to match my pulse. Not hearing the slam of it on the shield, I turned to see that Saba had tackled it onto the ground. But I doubted she could hold it for long.
“Thirty-five minutes,” Jember said, without looking up from his work. “Impressive, but not good enough.”
Despite being contradictions, both were true. He had finished welding, and was threading some of the thin lines he had burned through the silver with red thread. There were three colors in total he had to thread, and he was only just finishing up the first. He needed more time, and I wasn’t sure I could give it to him.
A slam on the shield made both of us wince. I grabbed a weapon off the floor—a sharpened broomstick—while Jember got up and moved into the next amulet’s pocket of protection. The hyena backed down and Saba stepped forward, her face a mask of terror and regret as she reached up to remove the amulet from above the door. It was nailed on, but with her strength she could probably easily break it off.
“Saba, no!” I cried, and when she didn’t stop I hit her arm with the broomstick, cracking it. She still wouldn’t stop. “Please, Saba!”
I had to hit her again, and her arm dropped to the ground, forcing her to pick it up. And the hyena resumed slamming into the shield. It didn’t take much. Three slams and I could hear the shield cracking. The hall suddenly felt too small and I panicked, backing into the safety of the amulet on the opposite side of the door as Jember.
The hyena broke through just as I made it out of that space, its mane standing up with rage …
But it didn’t come after me. It paused where it was in the doorway, just looking at me. And then it swung its long neck to look at Jember. My stomach dropped into my feet. It must’ve been able to sense that the amulet was getting close to completion.
“I’m your prey!” I yelled, tapping the ground to get its attention. “Come get me, monster!”
But it was done with me, it seemed. Instead it ran at Jember, so fast it cracked its own head against the shield.
Jember jolted, making eye contact with me from across the doorway. I’d never seen him so scared, and for a moment my heart was pounding hard enough to weaken me. There were fewer amulets on the wall going toward the stairs—only two. It was a bad side to be on when you were suddenly the new target of the Evil Eye. There was no way I could break through and get to him, especially when there was so much more of the amulet to go.
I swallowed, adjusting my grip on the broomstick. And when the hyena charged at Jember’s shield, I ran out from behind the safety of mine and speared it through the neck.
I rushed back behind my shield on the other side of the door, checking on the damage I’d done only after I was safely behind it. It barely reacted, as if nothing had happened, even though the sharp end of the stick stuck through its neck about two feet, dragging heavily on the ground on the handle side. It could barely run now, let alone break the shield, with its head being weighed down. But its focus was on me again, which was all I cared about. We were back on track.
Saba, God bless her, had held herself back for as long as she could, but now she came out into the hall and took hold of the broomstick. I picked up the closest weapon—a cricket bat—and stood ready to swing, waiting for what would happen next. As soon as Saba threw the stick aside the hyena came at me, and I hit it before it could damage the shield. It clamped the bat in its powerful jaws. I yanked the weapon back, the force making me stumble further into the protective pocket.
“Andi!” Jember shouted. “Watch—”
A solid, strong, far-too-smooth arm wrapped around my neck from behind. I gagged, dropping the bat to grab Saba’s arm as she lifted my feet off the ground. I clawed at her arm, trying to dig my fingers beneath hers, to let up the pressure enough to catch my breath. She wouldn’t budge so I kicked back at her, throwing my entire weight into it, slamming her back against the wall. I heard a crack so I kept going, slamming my heels backward until she let go.
I never thought Jember’s Real World Prep training would come in handy until now—when, instead of being short of breath and panicked, I was more clearheaded than ever. I snatched up the bat and swung at Saba, breaking off her arm in one big piece. I rammed it at her stomach, stabbing a hole through it.
Saba’s eyes were wide with fear—fear of what I couldn’t tell since, out of the two of us, she couldn’t feel pain. But there was determination in her expression, too, as she nodded at me. Do what you have to do, her expression said. So I pulled the bat out of her stomach and broke off her face. Then her shoulder. Her legs. I kept hitting and hitting until Jember shouted, “Focus, girl, it’s breaking through!”
That’s when I finally paused, staring at Saba in pieces on the floor, like a broken doll. This was more horrific than if we had just scattered her across the desert. I had to remind myself she couldn’t feel it. That if I didn’t do it one of us might die before Jember had a chance to finish the amulet.
“Andi, run!” he said, and I didn’t question it. I pulled my small knife, prying one of the nails out of the wall and stealing the amulet there, holding it in front of me as I ran past the hyena. Jember let me pass him before following, but I could hear the hyena’s head ramming against one of the last two shields between it and us.
“Pick a room!” Jember shouted over the wind as we ran past the stairs. I didn’t put much thought into it. We ended up in a small study I had never spent much time in. Neither did anyone else, clearly, because the fireplace wasn’t lit.
Jember locked the door behind us. “Near that corner,” he said, tipping his chin toward the only one with any moonlight touching it.
I grabbed a paperweight to re-nail the amulet into one of the walls while he shoved a solid wood desk in front of the door. And then he eased himself down in front of me. Between all the running and panic and the solid wood desk, he was panting. He removed his supplies without a word, transferring them to me. First the amulet, then the rack of thread. And then he took up the needle, threading the amulet while I wore it.
“Why?” was all I asked.
“In case I can’t finish.”
He knotted it off, but his hands were shaking. I took the needle from him to thread it with the final color.
I yelped at a knocking on the door, jolting my heart. Now that we had a moment to breathe in the thick of battle … I was terrified. Not of death itself, but of leaving everyone behind where I couldn’t look out for them. Of not saying everything. Not doing enough.
“I love you, Jember,” I blurted.
“Don’t get emotional,” he said, taking the needle back to work. “We’re almost done.”
“I wanted to say it, in case I die.”
“You’re not going to die. Keep your head, Andromeda.”
There was a loud snap as the solid wood door cracked a little.
“You called me your daughter earlier,” I said, as the door cracked again. “Did you mean it?”
The door flew open, breaking and sending splinters flying as it slammed against the heavy desk.
“Not now,” Jember said, his voice tight.
Again, and the desk legs screeched against the floor.
“Did you?” I asked quickly.
Again.
“Yes, I meant it,” he said.
Again, but this time the hyena’s snout could fit through the space in the door.
“Then I love you, Jember. You’re my father, and you’ve done what you could. That’s all I could ever ask for.”
Jember was a despicable excuse for a human sometimes. But he took care of me, cared about me, in his own way. And if I was going to die, I wanted it to be for the boy I loved, for the girl I called friend, and for my father, not for a man I resented for withholding love from me.
Besides, his effort to keep me alive was love, if that’s all we had.
And that’s all we had.
So, I would love him, because love made me braver … and I would die brave, if nothing else.
The hyena snaked through the opening and rushed toward us, colliding with the shield I had nailed on the wall. Jember worked, without acknowledgment to anything, as the hyena broke the shield closer and closer. I couldn’t tell which amulet it was trying to work against, the one on the wall or Jember’s. But it was getting closer far too quickly.
And the amulet didn’t feel finished.
“Only a few loops left,” he said. “Get ready to take over.”
“Let me fight it,” I said. “You have no energy.”
“With what weapon? Use your head, girl.” I looked around quickly, my heart constricting. Oh God. I’d forgotten to grab the bat again after I’d pried the amulet off the wall.
The hyena rammed us and Jember winced as he handed me the needle. He didn’t have much shield left. “Finish it. I don’t need energy to shield you.”
“Shield me?” My heart dropped into my stomach. “Jember, no—!”
The hyena rushed, a dark swift shadow, and I knew in my heart the next time it charged the shield would shatter. There was no time for anything else. I had to finish this.
Two loops.
Jember’s body canopied me into the corner, his forearms resting on either wall.
Another.
I heard claws on wood and a savage sound. Jember cried out in pain and my fingers faltered. “No,” I begged, but no one was listening to me. He whimpered and huddled over me, blocking out the light, but I could still hear the clawing and tearing, Jember panting over me, my own heart sprinting, splats of liquid on the hardwood.
But I could also sense the last two loops.
Jember screamed again just as I finished one, and his body moved to let in more light. It was only a second, a breath. But I saw the hyena’s green eyes glint at me, even as its jaws were sunk securely into Jember’s side. It threw Jember across the room, and I leaped up and ran to the desk, climbing on top of it, watching it the entire time. I saw blood drip from its mouth. Saw it charge at me.
One more loop, Andi.
Saw it leap—
I knotted the last loop and screamed as a body slammed into me, arms wrapping me tight. I caught my hand on the desk, staring at a naked chest.
A chest. A human chest.
“You did it,” Magnus’s beautiful voice whispered, trembling with relief.
I wrapped my arms around him, and then shoved him away abruptly, remembering where I was.
Remembering where Jember was.
Saba had put herself together and come in sometime—I had never processed when among the chaos. She had a cloth bundled at the wound on Jember’s side, but already I could tell it was soaked. I tore off my sweater as I ran to Jember, dropped to my knees, and pressed it over the wound with both hands.
“Finish the job,” he said through gritted teeth.
“The Evil Eye’s not going anywhere.”
“Exactly. You have to bar it from coming back.” His gloved hand grabbed mine, trying to remove them. “There’s no point.”
“You’re not dying.” I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, and it immediately crushed my adrenaline, the wall that had been blocking everything but survival giving way. I could feel tears burning the backs of my eyes, my hands trembling as I pressed. “You can’t die.”
“If you’re going to leave the area, make sure you get the chest of supplies from home, first.”
“Jember, stop. I’m not going anywhere without you.” I lay against him, my ear to his heart, my arms around him like letting go would disintegrate me. I felt his hand grip my back, his fingers trembling. As long as they trembled there was life in him, at least, as much as it killed me to feel it.
I looked at Saba, who sat beside him, peeling off his glove so she could lace her fingers against his skin. She saw me watching her and gave a small, sad smile, touching my cheek with her smooth, cool hand.
“You said those same words the night we met,” Jember murmured, his breath warm against my hair.
I didn’t remember ever trusting Jember so fully, but I supposed the dark memories had crowded the good ones out. His hand on my back twitched, and I held him closer, as if that would keep the life in him for longer. “Tell me the story.”
“I was on my way to drink myself to death—”
“Jember, no,” I groaned, “don’t tell me that.”
“You wanted the story … anyway, I never got around to it. I saw you walking into the brothel between your parents. You were so small, I remember … I don’t know what came over me. I slipped in, picked you up, and went out the back window.”
“What happened next?” I asked. His voice was getting weaker, but I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to hear his voice for as long as I could.
“We almost got caught because you wouldn’t stop talking.” I could practically feel his eyes roll in his tone, and I laughed. He was quiet for a moment, and I tapped his shoulder firmly to keep him awake. “When I got you home, you said you wouldn’t go anywhere without me … then fell asleep on me, just like this. That’s when I decided I couldn’t die yet. At least not until you could take care of yourself.”
“No, you couldn’t.” I lifted my face to look at him. His eyes were heavy and dark with pain and fatigue. “And you can’t now, either.”
He moved, but I couldn’t tell if it was a wince or a shrug. “You can take care of yourself, Andi. You’ve been able to for a while now.”
“What does that matter?” I practically yelled. “I want you here with me. Stay with me because I’m asking you to…” Sobs choked me briefly, blocking my words. “Please stay.”
“I’m dying.”
“No,” I said, panic making my voice tremble. “You can’t.”
“My blood loss disagrees with you.”
Maybe that was meant to make me laugh, but I burst into tears instead. Jember didn’t tell me to stop. He just held me while I held him. I heard movement, saw Magnus lie in front of Saba, head in her lap, and reach over to rub my shoulder. He had gotten a throw blanket from the other room, hugging it around his shivering nakedness.
“One amulet left,” Jember said. And then he swore quietly and leaned his head against Saba’s as she leaned on his shoulder. “I’ll try to hold on until you finish…”
I saw Saba pull up his sleeve and write with her finger on his bare arm. He sighed in agreement, and then none of us said another word.
Magnus quickly dug in the satchel hanging off Jember, handing me another silver disk with trembling hands.
I stayed where I was to keep Jember’s arm around me, just shifted onto my side to get both arms where they needed to be. And I got to work.
The amulet to bar the Evil Eye from returning was really similar to the ones we’d created as shields. It felt almost too easy compared to the other one, almost like a trick. But, as I worked, the temperature was creeping back to normal, the regular chill of the desert night pleasantly warm compared to the supernatural temperature it had been.
And then I couldn’t sense any more strokes.
“Finished?” Jember murmured, even though I was sure he could sense it, too.
“Yes,” I said, but I wished I wasn’t. I wished it had hours and hours to go. I wished Jember wasn’t injured. I wished the four of us were leaving here together … “I’m finished.”
“Good girl…”
His muscles relaxed a little more. He was no longer trying to stay.
We stayed that way for what felt like an hour, at least, though it couldn’t have been that long … until I could no longer feel Jember’s fingers tremble on my back, until his muscles went slack against me … until his heart sounded like nothing in my ear.
By then I had prepared myself for the end. I felt … calm, almost. When I sat up to look at him, it just looked like he was sleeping. It was only the blood soaking his clothes and pooling beneath him, and Saba’s freely flowing tears that told me otherwise.
But no, not freely anymore. Just streaked, dripping from her soulless nose and chin … like rain running off a statue. She was frozen as she had been sitting—cross-legged, her head against Jember’s shoulder, her fingers laced through his.
Both of them, still. Both of them, lifeless.
I made a cross from my forehead to chest, shoulder to shoulder. And then I kissed Jember’s cheek and carefully removed the amulet from around his neck and put it on.
Magnus had stood up before I did, pressing against the opposite wall, staring at the two of them. When I joined him he dropped his gaze, as if embarrassed to be looking. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
“He’s not in pain anymore.” It was dim in the hall, the candles burning low, but it was obvious Magnus was pale. He’d tried to wipe the blood from around his mouth with the blanket, but some was still smudged and dried there. “Are you okay?”
“Are you?”
“I’m not sure how to feel.” I looked at Jember and Saba again, linked even in death, and … it was so tragically beautiful. But maybe the fact I could feel that instead of numbness was a good sign. “We should … clean up the blood.”
“Not now.” Magnus grabbed my shoulders with blanket-covered hands. “Give yourself a minute to mourn, at least.”
“There’s no point in crying.”
“What is that?” He lifted my chin so I’d look at him. “Another survival habit? You don’t need to suppress your humanity anymore, Andromeda … as if I’d ever let you live on the streets again.”
I let out a breath of laughter, but it felt strange, considering the circumstance. The emotion was weighing on me, but I couldn’t cry. I had to keep a clear head. How could I ever bear to clean my father’s body if I—
“What’s that smell?” Magnus inhaled a few times, quickly. “Smoke?”
It only took that one word to strike my memory. I’d knocked over candles earlier … and the Evil Eye was no longer making the wood immune. “Fire!”
I ran to the hall we’d started in, Magnus on my heels. Bright flames had enveloped the far end of it already and, with the amount of wood in the house, it wouldn’t be long until it reached us.
“My sketchbooks!” Magnus cried.
“Forget the books.” I dragged him in the opposite direction. “We have to get to the stable.”
“Wait, I need clothes—”
“You can’t go upstairs, the house is on fire.”
“My first public appearance in three years can’t be in a blanket.”
I tripped to a stop on seeing the open door where Jember and Saba still sat, for a brief moment considering bringing them. They’re dead, Andi. They would have to be buried here, with the rest of the memories.
But Magnus must’ve had my same initial thought, because I had to drag him back before he could get to the office.
“I can’t leave Saba here,” he begged, forming tears making his eyes glisten. My eyes were tearing too, but for a totally different reason. The smoke was spreading quickly, and there wasn’t much time before the fire would follow.
“She’s gone, Magnus. It’s an empty shell.” I grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and dragged him down to my eye level. “Listen to me. If we don’t get out of here we’ll be dead, too. Do you know how to ride a horse?”
“I haven’t ridden in three years.”
“Good enough.” I took his hand and we ran outside to the stable.
We’d lingered too long. The near-moonless night was now glowing red, flames shattering the windows, licking the stone castle black. The horses must’ve sensed something was wrong, because when we threw the stable door open they sounded upset, although I couldn’t see anything. I used my pen to light the closest lamp, and the room was suddenly haunted by elongated shadows of panic.
“Stay back, Andi!” Magnus shouted, rushing up to a stall and opening it wide for a horse before rushing to the next one. I don’t know if it quite knew what to do with the information now, but it would if the fire got any closer.
I grabbed Magnus before he could unlatch another one. “I’ll do this. You get a horse for us.”
I released the other horses—seven in total—then went to help Magnus, who had gotten reins onto the archbishop’s horse but was still strapping the saddle.
“We don’t need one,” I said.
“Are you out of your mind?” He yelped, wincing at the sound of something inside the house crashing down. “I’m already wearing a blanket for a skirt, I don’t also want a sore backside.”
“A sore backside is the least of our worries right now!”
Magnus tightened the saddle, then gave me a boost onto the horse, climbing up behind me and taking the reins. We rode away from the heat into the natural cool of the desert night, the other horses following our lead, the flames cleansing all the memories and pain of that castle just as well as any amulet.