“Fine.” The young Hildy raises her hand to shoulder height. The tip of her pointer finger glows with a purple hue. She then draws a circle in the air, a shape that fills in with the same purple brightness.
“Show me the client,” says the young Hildy.
Inside the Looking Glass, an image comes into view. A man who’s broad-chested, white haired, and wearing Rixa royal garb. All the breath leaves my body.
It’s Connor.
Sure, I knew he hired Hildy. But seeing him approaching the Wastelands, his face all smiles? Alarm runs through my limbs. Whatever Connor’s up to, it’s dangerous.
The young Hildy looks into the image. “He’s not far, now. What a persistent old goat.”
“That’s no way to speak of someone who spent years camped out at our doors, begging for a way to find and hire you.”
“I’m shocked you ever considered letting me go. There hasn’t been a Grand Master Monopsyche in a thousand years.”
“True, but let’s just say Connor can make it worth our while. The Wastelands may become wealthy now, thanks to him. And you.”
I know the pair of them have been talking for some time, but my brain can only focus on one word: Years. The term ricochets painfully around my brain. Connor’s been a ghost in Antrum for ages. There have been so many missed birthday parties and holiday dinners because he was supposedly off enjoying his retirement. But in reality, Connor was here in the Wastelands, searching for Hildy and then, negotiating for her services.
The Teschio speaks again, and his words bring me out of my thoughts. If I’m going to help Maxon, I have to focus on every detail of what takes place in this so-called demonstration for Connor.
“Keep track of the King,” orders the Teschio. “I want to know when he’ll arrive.”
“If you insist.”
“I always do, and I always get what I want.”
“For now.” The young Hildy sets her hands on opposite sides of the Looking Glass, pressing it down to the size of a large watch-face. She then sets the magical image onto the inside of her wrist. The picture of Connor moves on her skin like a live tattoo made of purple ink. “Done.”
Although this entire experience is overwhelming, I can’t help but marvel at the Looking Glass spell. I’d never heard of one before, but that’s not a shock. It takes years to learn even the basics of thrax magic, and that’s if you have nothing else to do but study.
Suddenly, a boy steps through the stone archway on the other side of the room. He’s tall and lanky with pale skin and thick blonde dreads to his waist. He wears a long white leather coat like Hildy’s.
“Hey, Marcus,” says the young Hildy, her smile bright. She hugs him hello, and the embrace lasts a little too long for mere friends.
“Hello, Gorgeous,” says Marcus. He gently tucks a stray strand of black hair behind her ear. “How are we today?”
“Hungry!” screams the Cruor demon. The creature’s voice almost makes me jump out of my skin. I’d forgotten that guy was here.
Marcus slowly turns to stare at the monster. All the blood drains from his face.
The young Hildy sees the fear in Marcus’s eyes. “Hey, you can still back out, you know. There are other ways to gain your freedom from this place.”
“Why would I back out?” asks Marcus, his voice shaking. “You’re the first Grand Master Monopsyche in a thousand years. What’s the problem? I’m only going to Hell for a few seconds before you pull me out again.”
The world freezes at this exact moment. As long as I live, I know that I’ll never forget the look on everyone’s faces. The worry and fear on the young Hildy and Marcus. The steely rage in Lincoln’s eyes. The calm determination of the Teschio.
This is the moment I discover that my father-in-law hired Maxon a Grand Master Monopsyche for one simple reason: she can pull a mark out of Hell.
I turn to Lincoln. “He knew. This entire time, Connor knew that Maxon was at risk of bring abducted by Armageddon. Your father didn’t tell us. Instead, he spent years finding Hildy so she could rescue Maxon, just in case Armageddon’s plan worked.”
Lincoln’s eyes fill with pain, terror and ultimately, anger. “The moment we’re done here, I’m pulling both my parents in for a serious talk. We’re getting answers, Myla. I swear it.”
Marcus steps across the room to lean against the wall. He makes a great show of casually hitching his right ankle across his left, although both legs are obviously shaking. “Why would I back out? You spent two days casting all those extra spells on me. With that much magic in place, you’ll pull me out of Hell easily enough.” He hitches his thumb at the Teschio. “And our teachers promised my freedom from Wastelands in exchange for helping with this little demonstration. You’ll be free too, Hildy, if this works.” His expression turns tender. “I want us to be together, far away from here. Whatever it takes to make that happen, I’m good with it.”