Del took my arm reassuringly. “My mother is an Empath. She is very sensitive to the powers of others and she can borrow those powers for a time. Right now, she has borrowed Ryan’s. It won’t last for very long, but for now she is capable of anything Ryan can do. And Gramma was Claimed, obviously quite some time ago. So we’ll go with you.”
I looked at my cell. 11:49.
“What if we don’t make it in time?”
Marian smiled and held up the book. “I haven’t made a delivery to Greenbrier, well, ever. Del, do you think you could find the way?”
Aunt Del nodded, putting on her glasses. “Palimpsests can always find ancient lost doors. It’s just brand new ones we have a little trouble with.” She disappeared back down into the Tunnels, followed by Marian and Gramma. Link and I scrambled to keep up with them.
“For a bunch a old ladies,” Link panted, “they really know how to move.”
This time, the passageway was small and crumbling, with speckled black and green moss growing in sprays across the walls and ceiling. Probably the floors, too, but I couldn’t see them in the shadows. We were five bobbing torches in otherwise total darkness. Since Link and I were at the back of the pack, the smoke was wafting into my eyes, making them tear and sting.
As we got closer to Greenbrier, I could tell we were there by the smoke that started seeping down into the Tunnels, not from our torches, but from hidden openings leading to the world outside.
“This is it.” Aunt Del coughed, feeling her way around the edges of a rectangular cut in the stone walls.
Marian scraped off the moss, revealing a door. The lunae key fit perfectly, as if it had opened just days ago, rather than hundreds of thousands of days ago. The door wasn’t oak, but stone. I couldn’t believe Aunt Del had the strength to push it open.
Aunt Del paused on the stairwell and motioned to me to pass. She knew we were nearly out of time. I ducked my head under the hanging moss and smelled the dank air as I made my way up the stone steps.
I climbed out of the tunnel, but when I got to the top, I froze. I could see the crypt’s stone table, where The Book of Moons had lain for so many years.
And I knew it was the same table, because the Book was lying on it now.
The same book that was missing from my closet shelf this morning. I had no idea how it had gotten there, but there was no time to ask. I could hear the fire before I saw it.
Fire is loud, full of rage and chaos and destruction. And fire was all around me. The smoke in the air was so thick, I was choking on it. The heat was singeing the hair right off my arms. It was like a vision from the locket, or worse, like the last of my nightmares—the one where Lena was consumed by fire.
The feeling that I was losing her. It was happening.
Lena, where are you?
Help Uncle Macon.
Her voice was dimming. I waved the smoke away so I could see my cell.
11:53. Seven minutes to midnight. We were out of time.
Gramma grabbed my hand. “Don’t just stand there. We need Macon.”
Gramma and I ran, hand in hand, out into the fire. The long row of willows that framed the archway leading into the graveyard and the gardens was burning. The brush, the scrub oaks, the palmettos, the rosemary, the lemon trees—everything was on fire. I could hear the last few canisters in the distance.
Honey Hill was wrapping up, and I knew the reenactors would be on to the fireworks soon, as if the fireworks in the Safe Zone could in any way compare to the fireworks going on out here. The whole garden as well as the clearing was burning, surrounding the crypt.
Gramma and I stumbled through the smoke until we neared the burning oaks, and I found Macon lying where we had left him. Gramma leaned over him and touched his cheek with her hand. “He’s weak, but he’ll be all right.” At the same moment, Boo Radley rolled over and jumped up onto all fours. He slunk over and lay down on his belly next to his master.
Macon struggled to turn his head toward Gramma. His voice was barely a whisper. “Where’s Lena?”
“Ethan’s going to find her. You rest. I’m going to help Mrs. Lincoln.”
Link was by his mom’s side and Gramma hustled in their direction without another word. I stood up, scanning the fires for Lena. I couldn’t see any of them, anywhere. Not Hunting, Larkin, Sarafine— anyone.
I’m up here. On top of the crypt. But I think I’m stuck.
Hold on, L. I’m coming.
I made my way back through the flames, trying to stick to the pathways I remembered from being in Greenbrier with Lena. The closer I got to the crypt, the hotter the flames were. My skin felt like it was peeling off, but I knew it was actually burning.
I climbed on top of an unmarked gravestone, found a foothold in the crumbling stone wall, and pulled myself up as far as I could. On top of the crypt was a statue, some kind of angel, with part of her body broken off. I grabbed onto its—I don’t know what, it felt something like an ankle—and pulled myself over the edge.
Hurry, Ethan! I need you.
That’s when I found myself face to face with Sarafine.
Who plunged a knife into my stomach.
A real knife, into my real stomach.