“Master,” one of the hooded figures speaks. “As your will commands, we gather to bring you back to this mortal world.”
The figure begins an incantation of sorts, guttural and harsh. They are words I have never heard before, and they leave me with a dreadful sense of unease.
He pauses, and the wind whistles through the branches. “Now we begin,” he says, and reaches into the folds of his black garments. He pulls out a blade and holds it up with two hands, as if presenting the Holy Grail itself. “The Eternity Blade,” he announces. The hilt is encrusted with rubies and gemstones winking in the moonlight. He draws back one of his sleeves and, to my horror, runs the blade along his wrist. He passes the dagger to the next man, who does the same. And then the next, and the next . . .
My blood runs cold at the sight.
One of the men steps forward. He is holding a golden chalice, and with it, he collects drops of blood from each man. When they are finished, the first hooded figure takes the chalice and carries it to the motionless figure on the slab of stone. He holds it up to the closed lips. “Drink, Master,” he says. “Drink and be reborn.”
“Drink and be reborn,” the others echo.
Cradling the dead man’s head in one hand, the leader drips blood into his mouth. “Rise, Malachai,” he says. “Rise and be reborn.”
I hear an inhalation of breath, and the dead man’s chest expands. He is breathing. The dead man is breathing. His acolytes gasp and fall to their knees as the man named Malachai rises from the slab.
“Jess, wake up! Come back!”
Emily’s voice snaps me awake. I am lying on the ground, with Emily and Gabriel kneeling close. My clothes are soiled with blood and dirt. Emily strokes my hair, which is damp with sweat. “Your eyes rolled back in your head, Jess. You had a fit.”
I stand up, and they rise with me. My thoughts are racing. I touched the blood and then—?that name. Malachai.
It is familiar, but from where? Then I remember Mother’s words: And before your father died, he killed one of the greatest necromancers of all.
“Jess?” Emily says. “What is it? What did you see?”
“My father’s killer,” I tell her. “He is alive.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
A Warm Embrace
“He was brought back from the dead,” I say. “Malachai Grimstead.”
“You saw this?” Gabriel asks in astonishment.
“Yes. I saw it all. A cruel blade, cloaked and hooded men. They called him Malachai.”
“Black sorcery,” Gabriel hisses.
My head feels light, as if I am about to swoon. “He had the same face I saw when we used the spirit board when Balthazar was away—?cold and white . . . with red eyes.”
Rise, Malachai. Rise and be reborn.
“Jess?” Emily says quietly. “You don’t think that was Malachai’s blood you touched, do you?”
“I don’t know what to think, Emily.”
But it is then that I notice a feeling of clarity, a clear, bright spot in my head, like a compass pointing the way. I touch the faerie stone. It is warm, and when I look down, I see that it is glowing red.
“It’s trying to tell you something,” Emily says.
“It is, Emily, and we have no choice but to go forward.”
I take a moment to look at the two of them. They have followed me into uncertain danger, based on what? My feelings? My visions? “I’m glad you’re with me,” I tell them. “I’m glad you’re my friends.”
“Of course we are,” Emily says.
“We know a thing or two about sticking together,” Gabriel says, which is the most casually I’ve ever heard him speak. I imagine he is referring to the orphanage—?Nowhere.
“Plus, we’ve got to revenge your mum and dad,” Emily adds.
My eyes water at Emily’s words, but I set my shoulders and let out a breath. “Let’s be about it, then, shall we?”
Emily and Gabriel fall in behind me, and we press forward.
The darkness looms like a living thing, dense and suffocating. Emily’s light is dim. We must find water for her soon. I hear her small footsteps behind me, soft and light, but her breathing is labored.
I can’t get the image out of my head—?the dead man on the slab. Rise, Malachai. Rise and be reborn.
“Jessamine.”
The voice is as soft as a whisper, and it tickles my ear. “Did you hear that?”
“What?” Emily and Gabriel ask at the same time.
“Someone called my name. Listen.”
We stand still, silent. My heart beats so loudly, I feel it in my ears.
“Jessamine.”
We all turn around at the same time. I look left and right, searching. Emily doesn’t speak, but points straight ahead.
At first all I see is a glowing shape, shimmering and surrounded by silver light. A feeling of peacefulness washes over me. It is a woman.
My heart falls to my feet.
No. It can’t be.
Emily gasps. “That’s your mum!”
I do not answer, only stare ahead.
“It could be a trick,” Gabriel says, making the sign of the cross. “Some dark sorcery.”
The glowing shape becomes more clear. I feel it reaching out to me. It is nothing but pure love, like the time Gabriel played his harp—?a joy that seeps into every pore of my being.