Her shriek sounded over the wailing wind, and she lost hold of her sword. The blade careened past me and nicked my thigh.
I broke through the gateway and landed hard on a marble floor. Books from a nearby case scattered around me, and my light globe popped at my side.
The handle of the Chiave tapped the tiles at the same time Veronique landed on top of it, the blade impaling her chest.
Glass rained down on us, several pieces embedding into my skin, and I winced.
With some effort, I crawled to her. My stomach rose and fell like an angry sea at the sight of the blood pulsing out from where the sword had pushed through her breastbone. The blade shook with each of Veronique’s shocked breaths.
No words came to me. My mind was numb, but my body was alive with pain.
A gurgling sound came from her mouth.
Veronique coughed, her bright blue eyes focused on me. “Don’t be weak, Gia. You’re a Sentinel for the Wizard Council. I would have killed you.” Her breathing went shallow, and her next words came out quiet and pained. “We are all between good and evil. Make sure yours is the right side—” A cough cut off her words. “They lie to you. Seek The Red. He knows—” Her final breath cut off her words.
She’s dead. Her stare had frozen, her body was bloodied and stiff, and she was still beautiful. I’d never know why she wanted me to find The Red. I didn’t know where the beefy Laniar lived. My eyes slid back to her.
The sadness surprised me. She’d killed Kale, after all, and tried to kill me. She deserved to die. But as I stared at her face, I could see a six-year-old girl training to be a killer like her father wanted. Trying to please him while he used her. Most likely, she’d never received love. Not like the Pop kind of love that I grew up with.
Forget her. Wipe it away.
A Monitor had to have picked up her jump. I had to get out of there before someone came to investigate. But I had to get the Chiavi, and one was sticking out of Veronique’s chest. I untied the velvet bag and removed it from her waist. I opened it, and the other Chiavi and ancient spell book were inside.
My eyes slid to the sword. The blade had gone all the way through her chest. Her back was lifted a little, propped up by the handle sticking out the other side.
“Okay. I can do this. There’re two worlds full of people at stake.”
I heaved her onto her side and grasped the handle of the sword. With my eyes closed, I took a deep breath and yanked and yanked and yanked until the sword was free. A slurping, then a gushing sound came from her. Blood pooled around her, and I recoiled from it, my back crashing into a bookcase.
Blood ran down the sword. There was nothing to wipe it clean except a corner of Veronique’s trench coat. I ran the blade across the material, slid it into my empty scabbard, and tied the velvet bag to my belt.
I went over to the gateway book, my fingers trembling. Blood dripped from my sleeve and hit the pages. I flipped all the pages, leaving bloody prints on each so no one could tell that I’d jumped to the Boston Athen?um.
The library was quiet when I landed. Its familiarity was welcoming—like coming home. I struggled down the stairs, my injuries causing me to wince with each labored step. There was a phone at the reception desk, and I used it to dial Nana Kearns’s number. It rang five times, and I was about to hang up when someone answered.
“Hello?” a girl’s voice came through the receiver.
“Katy—Katy Kearns.” My voice sounded scratchy. I swallowed. “Is she there?”
“No. Who is this?”
I recognized that voice.
“Emily?”
Hearing her brought back memories of Arik breaking up with me to go out with her. She’d used a charm, becoming his puppet master, pulling the strings to make him do things he never would’ve if not for her evil, devious plans.
“Gia, is that you?”
Nana wasn’t there. I needed help. She’d have to do.
“I’m hurt. Can you come and get me?” I wanted to lie down, close my eyes, and pretend this night hadn’t happened.
“You’re hurt?” Emily said, panic in her voice. “Oh my gosh, how bad is it?”
“I’ll be fine. Just come now.”
“Where are you?”
“The Athen?um. Meet me at the graveyard.”
“Be right there.” She hung up, and I dropped the phone.
At least the charmed keycard Arik had given me unlocked the library’s door on the first try. The rest of the night had gone horribly wrong, and this little thing working gave me hope. I slipped outside and hobbled to the street, then up Beacon to Tremont. It wasn’t a very long walk to the Granary Burying Grounds, but with all my wounds, it was laborious. The velvet bag holding the Chiavi grew heavy as I grew weaker. The rope tied around my wrist dug into my skin. I waited for an older couple walking a Pomeranian to pass before unlocking the gate and entering the graveyard.
Weak and tired, I hid behind one of the stone columns of the arched entrance. The grave markers were silent concrete bodies lined up in the ground and cloaked in darkness, some of them seeming to lean in sadness against the others.
With my back resting on the wall, I slid down and sat on the ground. I closed my eyes, just wanting to sleep. Maybe when I woke up, this nightmare would’ve been a dream, and the pain would be gone.
Don’t sleep.
I pushed myself back to my feet. If I was standing, I couldn’t fall asleep.
Nearly forty minutes later, a small white car pulled up to the curb and stopped. The passenger window whirred and screeched open.
“Gia,” Emily called, somewhat louder than a whisper.
I dragged my beaten body out from behind the gate and hobbled to the car. Every bit of me ached as I settled into the passenger seat.
“You look bad.” She switched the car into drive and sped off. “What happened?”
The world spun, and my stomach reeled. “Veronique. She attacked me.”
“Oh no,” she said. “I will kill her one day, I swear.”
“Too late. She’s dead…” I trailed off as the darkness squeezed around me.
…
Something cool and wet dragged across my forehead, and I opened my eyes to see Emily staring down at me. I tried to sit up, but she gently pushed me back down. I recognized the antique dresser and squeaky double bed. They were from Nana Kearns’s guest room, but I wasn’t in the room in Mission Hills. The windows were different and on the wrong side of the room.
Emily’s dark hair was pulled back, and the frown she was giving me wrinkled her forehead and moved her widow’s peak. “Don’t get up,” she said. “I have Nana’s gunk holding your wounds closed.”
“Where is she?” My voice sounded like I had swallowed a handful of gravel. I pushed myself up the pillows to sit.
Emily grabbed a glass of water off the nightstand. “In Seattle. She’s trying to get a flight home. I’m supposed to keep you down and cool. You’re a mess, and you have a high fever.”
“This isn’t her house. Did she move?”
“Yes,” Emily said, handing me the glass. “They sent us into hiding for our safety. We’re in Jamaica Plains. It’s a pretty cool place.”