I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned against the door, tried to block him out, but he was there, beside me, against me, his cologne in my nostrils and his saliva on my tongue.
Your friends will die because of you, he whispered. And you will run away again. You are weak, Kaira. And you always will be.
“No.”
I don’t know where the word came from, but it didn’t feel like mine. It was a flame in my chest, the tiniest spark in the darkness, the glint of the moon on a raven’s eye. Brad hovered there, in the emptiness, a shit-eating grin on his face.
The flame grew.
“I’m done hiding from you,” I whispered. “I’m done hiding from what you’ve done.”
He stepped forward, reached out to touch me. But he wasn’t alone in the void of my mind. Ethan was there, and Oliver. My mother and Elisa.
And Chris.
“I’m not broken,” I said.
The spark inside grew, became a rage.
“I’m not going to let anyone get hurt because I was afraid. Not again. Not by you, and not by this.”
Brad laughed.
You couldn’t save yourself. How are you going to save anyone else?
“I did save myself,” I replied. There, in the darkness, the violet-eyed girl floated. Waiting for me. “And I’m not going to run away again.”
I opened my eyes, the flame inside me hot, raging. I knew what I had to do.
Or rather, I knew what I couldn’t do again.
I turned and pounded on the wood door over and over until someone finally opened it. It wasn’t Jonathan, it was Kai.
“Kaira,” he said, “What are you doing—”
I pushed past him and into the room. The kids all surrounded the circle, chanting something softly. Jonathan stood in the center of the ring with his arms raised, his head tilted back in invocation.
I didn’t think or call out. I ran headfirst into the circle and swung.
? ? ?
Darkness.
I knew, in the far corners of my mind, that this was somewhere in between. That the circle had been a gateway of sorts. That knowledge was infinitesimal compared to the man floating in front of me. Jonathan was there in the darkness, frozen, my fist inches away from his face. But it wasn’t Jonathan holding my attention. It was the force behind him. Around him. Within him. A ghostly white light that seethed in the stillness, a haze of snow and shadow that froze me to the bone.
He is coming.
Behind the spectral form of Jonathan appeared the girl. Her violet eyes were sad. Even Munin on her shoulder appeared upset.
“What is that?” I asked. My lips didn’t move, but the thought carried through the silence like a shout.
“The Endbringer,” she replied. “The god your professor has been summoning.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There has always been a balance between the realms of gods and men. Heaven and Hell, Valhalla and Niflheim, Olympus and Hades—they have many names, and they have always been at war for human worship. But this . . . this god, he is not of those worlds. He was cast aside, and now, he desires revenge. With every sacrifice in his name, his power grows. And now, he tries to breach your world.” She looked to Jonathan. “If he breaks free, if he upsets the balance, he will destroy us all.”
The Tree Will Burn. I didn’t understand what that had to do with anything, but I didn’t care, not anymore. I knew what I had to do. The bastard had killed Jane. He wouldn’t kill again.
“You cannot take him as you are,” the girl said, following my thoughts. “You must invoke me.”
“Will I die?” I asked. My voice didn’t waiver as much as it should have.
“In a sense,” Munin said. “But it is the only way the rest will live.”
“Then I’ll do it. I invoke you.”
The girl smiled. There was so much sadness in those lips. Munin cawed and flew from her shoulder, his wings unfolding into a greater darkness as she stepped forward and the world faded to black.
“Our will be done.”
I don’t know why I went to the academics concourse.
I told myself it was because I wanted to take a shortcut to the arts building, to check out the space for my thesis. I told myself it was because it was cold and windy and dark outside, and the warmth of the concourse made me forget all that. Mostly, though, I told myself it was not because of Kaira. Not because I knew she was there for a tutorial group. Not because I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind all day.
It’s why I ended up skipping the movie. It wasn’t just the wind or the snow or the ever-present darkness. There was something in the air. Something beyond the crows clumped like snow. Something darker. And I knew, somewhere deep down, that it was because of her.
I felt stupid, but I’d had the boys and Elisa drop me off after dinner. It was a bit more of a trek for them but no one questioned the change of heart—we were all in that headspace, when nothing felt right or real. So there I wandered, slowly, down the hall, toward the arts building, and saw her farther on. She leaned against a door and there were tears streaming down her face, her fists balled tight. And she was shaking.
My heart nearly stopped.