Apprehension rolled from Charles and Adrian in waves. Or maybe it was my own apprehension, rising like the tides and threatening to pull me away in the undercurrents. How could anyone cope with this—this vast, open, unknowingness?
I let their thoughts roll into mine, but they were blocking me out. Adrian was mentally reciting Reluctance by Robert Frost, and Charles was thinking about some techie plug-in thing.
“You’re both worried. What’s going on?”
Adrian opened his mouth, but Charles looked at him and shook his head. “Sophia, of course we’re worried,” Charles said, “but we didn’t want to add to your distress.”
“Tell me.”
“We’re not hopeful.”
“Not hopeful of what?”
“I can’t live knowing I didn’t try to save my parents,” Charles said, “but you don’t need to be doing this. You must stay outside.”
Adrian nodded. “We are faster and stronger and far more obligated than you. If anything goes wrong, leave immediately. You’ll be able to escape before they discover your presence.”
“So this—” I waved my hand around the ossuary. “—this is all hopeless.”
Charles shushed me, rubbing his hands gently down my arms. It only made me angrier. “Hopeless, no, but safer. This is the best way for you to help. Trust me.”
“And if I never see you again?” I wiped my cheeks with the inside of my wrist. The anger was turning inward now. Anger at my selfishness. “You want me to live with the guilt you can’t?”
Charles wrapped me in his arms and kissed my hairline and held me close until I calmed. He pulled back and studied my face. “You all right?”
“You better come back.”
“Forever, Sophia. Remember? After this, I promise you, I will seek out the Ankou to become a pure Strigoi and grow old with you.” Charles forced a smile, but his thoughts reflected his worries. “I’ll be fine.”
I would make sure of that, even if I had to go in there and drag him out myself.
“If they do find you,” he said, his expression sinking. “Running or hiding would be pointless by then. You only have one hope: Fight. Whatever you do, fight.”
He dropped the bag of supplies and pulled me hard against him, pressing his lips to mine. My mind held desperately to this moment, wishing he would never let me go, that we could stay suspended in this instant forever, stay here with his hands grasping the dark tiers of my dress, kissing me with a passion that filled me with a sense of life and hope.
All too soon, he let go and stepped back.
“I love you,” he whispered.
My hand moved slowly to my lips, my fingertips tracing over them as though I could feel some lingering imprint of Charles’ lips. I might never see him again. My throat constricted, but I blinked back the tears. The time for panic had passed.
After Charles and Adrian geared up with the earpieces Adrian had bought earlier, they trudged off toward the mausoleum, moving so quickly that they were like mere blurs of color on the air.
As I stepped into the ossuary, the floor creaked. Wood panels peeked out from shifted dirt. Some boards had been broken and tossed aside. I sank to my knees and set the supply bag on a discarded piece of wood.
The ignisvisum would allow me to view the events, and my clairaudience would allow me to hear the thoughts of the elemental beings inside. Of course, in this case, I would immediately return the memories so that the fire would not steal them and leave them lost forever.
Everything the ignisvisum revealed I would then filter to Charles and Adrian through the remote headset. It was a plan that promised nothing.
I ran through my opening rites until a protective barrier was visibly in place. Spirits floated near, some cupping their hands over the bubble of whitish membrane to stare and howl. Their coal-black eyes made my skin crawl, but they were the least of my worries.
I took the tin bowl from my bag and filled it with cedar chips. I fumbled to strike a match. On my fourth attempt, the tip ignited, and I set fire to the wood. I relaxed my stare on the haze above the embers, mouthing the words to conjure the images. The charred cedar, burning beneath the translucent screen, broke up the vision a few times. I waited until I gained my focus to put on the headset.
“I see you,” I said into my mouthpiece.
What I actually saw was Adrian’s vision of Charles and Charles’ vision of Adrian displayed split screen on the ignisvisum projection. Trying to follow both would have drained my energy too quickly, so I focused on Adrian’s vision, hoping to keep my sights on Charles as much as possible.
We’re going in now, Charles thought toward me.
They entered a mausoleum’s austere double doors and squeezed around a makeshift table made of cement blocks and boards of unfinished wood. Partially-melted candles and puddles of stiff wax scattered the workspace.