And Serafina knew that she had always been the suspicious one, the one who didn’t trust people. She had suspected Mr. Vanderbilt was the Man in the Black Cloak because of the type of shoes he wore. She had suspected the footman Mr. Pratt, and the coachman Mr. Crankshod, and the detective Mr. Grathan, and all the others. She was always hunting for the rat.
But now she realized that she had changed, too, maybe just as much as Braeden had, but in the opposite direction. She could feel herself starting to listen to Rowena, wanting to believe what she was saying. She had seen Rowena that first night in the forest walking alone by the river, her spirit so changed. And she had heard the fear in the girl’s voice when she shouted out into the darkened forest. And she had seen Rowena fighting off her father’s attacks, screaming at him in savage defiance.
Could all of this have been an elaborate trick designed to gain her trust? Serafina knew it could be, but it felt like Rowena was telling the truth.
But more than all that, Serafina knew that it didn’t matter how scared she was, how uncertain or suspicious: she needed Rowena. If Rowena didn’t succeed tonight, Uriah was going to kill Braeden. That much was certain.
But here was Braeden on the opposite side of it. He hated Rowena. Rowena had harmed him, scarred him, and killed his friend.
Serafina tried to think. What could she do? How could she talk to Braeden? How could she show him that she was here?
She looked around the softly lit room, the guns in the glass cases, the sizzling embers and gray ashes in the fireplace, the upholstered chairs and the wooden table, and the Persian rug on the floor. She could see Braeden and Rowena’s reflection in the cases, but she couldn’t see her own. She was just a glint of light in the glass.
Then she looked at the fireplace again.
Ashes to ashes, she thought as an idea sprang into her mind.
“Rowena, listen to me,” she said, “we need to get Braeden’s attention. Get him over to the fireplace.”
Rowena didn’t seem to understand and didn’t respond.
“Do what I say,” Serafina demanded. “He’s never going to listen to you alone, not like this. You need my help.”
As she watched Rowena pause and think it through, she realized that even the sorceress had to be careful about whom she trusted.
“Braeden,” Rowena said finally. “I need to show you something by the fireplace.”
“Good, that’s perfect…” Serafina encouraged her. “Just get him over there and I’ll do the rest.”
“No!” Braeden said, pointing the knife at her.
“It’s about Serafina,” Rowena said.
“What about her?”
“Come over to the fireplace and I’ll show you.”
“I’m not going to do what you say,” Braeden said.
“You’ve got to convince him,” Serafina told her.
“He’s not going to do it,” Rowena said.
“Who are you talking to?” Braeden asked her.
“Find a way,” Serafina said. “Act harmless. Lay on the floor!”
“I’m not stupid,” Rowena said. “I’m not doing that!”
“You’re not doing what?” Braeden demanded.
“Get on the floor!” Serafina said again. “If I’m going to trust you, you need to trust me.”
“Fine!” Rowena snapped resentfully, but then she spoke to Braeden in a softer, gentler tone. “Braeden, I understand that you’re frightened of me. I would be, too, if I were you. So let me do this. I will not resist you. Hold your knife to me so that I cannot harm you.”
Watching the sorceress carefully, Braeden moved the knife toward her. Rowena slowly lowered herself and lay flat on her back in front of the fireplace. Braeden followed her down, kneeling beside her, and pressed the blade against her throat.
“Your move, cat,” Rowena said.
“What are you saying?” Braeden asked.
“Now, ask him to blow into the ashes,” Serafina said.
“Braeden,” Rowena said, “I need to show you something that I know is important to you. I will not move in any way. I want you to blow into the ashes of the fireplace as hard as you can.”
“Who are you talking to?” Braeden asked.
“I’ll show you,” Rowena said.
Braeden stared at her malevolently, then finally sucked in a deep breath, and blew into the ashes. The ashes and the glowing embers went flying up in a great, swirling cloud into the room.
“That’s perfect!” Serafina cheered.
As the embers and ashes floated down, she moved her hands back and forth through the air, guiding the way they fell. Filling her lungs, she blew here and she blew there, bringing new life to the glow of the embers and pushing the ashes up into curling, floating motion, until they all began to fall into tiny lines onto the hardwood floor.
“What’s happening?” Braeden asked, his voice trembling with the mystery of what he was seeing.
Serafina guided the ashes and embers down until they fell together into small, scratchy, glowing lines: ITSME
“What is that?” Braeden asked in fascination. “Does it spell something?”
He leaned toward the glowing ashes and tried to make out the rough letters in the faint, flickering light of the candles.
“I…T…S…M…E…” Braeden said as he deciphered the letters one by one. “It says…It’s me…But who is it? Who’s me?”
“Well, you definitely have his attention now,” Rowena said as she sat up.
“Who are you talking to?” Braeden asked again.
“The answer to all your questions is the same, Braeden.”
“What?” Braeden asked in frustration.
“It’s Serafina,” Rowena said.
“What do you mean it’s Serafina?”
“Serafina is here.”
“Here?”
“She’s here now, in this room with us.”
“You’re lying!” Braeden said. “You’re a nasty liar!” Angry and disgusted, Braeden blew the ashes away contemptuously, as if to say, I don’t believe a word of this!
The ashes and the flaring embers swirled up into the air and floated around the room. Over the next few moments they should have gone dark and fallen randomly onto the floor and furniture, but Serafina moved her hands and blew with her lungs and brought them down right back on the floor where they had been before, glowing with new life.
TRUSTHER
Braeden gazed in wonderment at the letters, but then he caught himself.
“Oh, stop it!” he said. “This is just more of your tricks!”
“It’s the cat,” Rowena said flatly.
“No, it isn’t. Serafina’s dead. I buried her myself.”
“I thought she was, too, but we were both wrong. She’s not totally dead. Serafina’s spirit is in this very room.”
“Just stop this!” Braeden screamed at her, his voice shaking with indignation as the two of them got to their feet and faced each other. “You’re always lying!”
“But she’s here…” Rowena said.
“How do I know that you’re not lying to me like you have so many times before? If she’s truly here, then prove it to me.”
“Rowena,” Serafina said. “Tell him to ask you something that only Serafina would know.”
When Rowena said these words, Braeden’s expression changed. He thought for several seconds, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.
“What were the first words I ever spoke to Serafina?”
Serafina thought back. What were the first words he’d ever said to her? She tried to think. It was the morning after she’d seen the Black Cloak for the first time. She had just crept upstairs into the daylight…
“‘Are you lost?’” Serafina said. “That’s what he said.”