by E. E. Holmes
I ran a shaking hand through my hair, pushing it back from my face, which was slick with tears and sweat. “I’m sorry, Hannah. Finn, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why or how that happened.”
“Why did you try to draw the angel?” Finn asked. “What prompted you to attempt something so foolish?”
I bristled. “That’s not fair! It wasn’t foolish! Well, okay, now I can see that maybe it wasn’t the best plan, but it seemed like a really good idea when Milo suggested it! If it had worked, it would’ve been by far the easiest way to get a visual on the angel. And if it didn’t, we would’ve been no worse off. Don’t pretend you could’ve predicted this.”
Finn gave every indication that he was about to argue, but Milo stepped in.
“You’re not the only one whose job it is to protect her,” Milo said firmly. “It’s my job too, and I gave her the idea. It was just a Muse drawing. She’s done thousands. Even the ones that happen spontaneously or while she’s sleeping have always been harmless enough. The room’s Warded—there wasn’t a single spirit in here who could’ve forced a Habitation or a Psychic Trance. Can you seriously tell me you would’ve objected if you’d been here?”
Finn let out a long sigh, and when he spoke he sounded almost weary. “No. I can’t honestly say I’d have tried to stop you. I’m not trying to blame anyone. I was just… properly alarmed. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you foolish, Jess. That wasn’t fair… or true.”
I was almost too surprised to answer, but I managed to mutter, “That’s okay.”
“But we do need,” Finn went on, “to make fewer assumptions collectively. We assumed, and quite rightly,” and here he nodded at Milo, “that the Wards would protect you from Habitation, but obviously the angel has some immunity to Wards, or knows how to undo them. I realize our dealing with the spirits may feel quite old hat, but you’re Trackers now. There’ll be whole seas of unchartered waters for us to navigate.” Finn paused and shot a serious, almost headmaster-ish, look at each of us. “But enough about that. We need to act quickly.”
“He’s right,” said Hannah, who was now examining the runes under our windows. “These should have held against any spirit—you should’ve been protected. Oh Jess, this isn’t good.”
I turned to Hannah and gave her a calming look. “Then we’ll just have to use stronger Wards, and a good protective Casting. It’ll be ok.” I turned back to Finn. “Act? What do you mean?” My head was still swimming, and I couldn’t imagine doing anything right now except popping a handful of Tylenol and passing out.
Finn picked up my sketchbook from the bed and held it up. “You may not have captured the angel’s image, Jess, but you’ve certainly captured something powerful. These aren’t just random scribbles and doodles. All of these runes and Castings must mean something—and we’re going to find out what. Or rather, Catriona is going to find out for us.” At this, Finn slid his cell phone from his pocket, preparing to take pictures.
“Um, Finn?” I said tentatively.
“Don’t be bothered, my mobile’s been encrypted. Campbell’s security can’t detect it,” he said, snapping picture after picture of the sketch I’d produced.
“No, Finn… it’s not that. I mean… don’t you think… wouldn’t you like to remove the pencil from your leg before you do anything else?”
Finn looked up at me and then down at his leg in mild surprise, as though he’d entirely forgotten that there was a writing implement protruding from his thigh. “Oh, right. Yes, well spotted, that. Here Hannah, take the photos, would you?” He tossed Hannah his phone and then disappeared into the bathroom to bandage himself and possibly perform some light surgery.
Hannah came and sat beside me. “Jess… can I give you a hug?” she asked, still tearful.
“Yes, of course you can!” I cried, pulling her to me and squeezing her tightly. “I’m so sorry that I scared you. I don’t know what it was, but it’s gone now. I feel completely normal, except for this headache.”
“That was some Exorcist level shit right there,” Milo said with a delicate shiver. “Seriously, I was about to call a priest!”
“Aw, Milo, don’t be jealous. You know you’re the only spirit I willingly Habitate with,” I said, trying to bat my eyelashes at him—but even that was painful.
“I’m so flattered,” he said.
“I just wonder what all of this means,” I said, gesturing around to all of the runes. “Hannah, do you recognize any of it? I only know a few of these runes.”
“Sure,” Hannah said, getting to her feet. “There’s the rune for protection. The rune for darkness. The rune for concealment.” As she explained, she snapped a picture of each rune with Finn’s phone. “That’s one of the runes used in a Binding. That over there looks like part of the casting for a Caging. And there’s a bunch of familiar Gaelic words—‘Mask,’ ‘follow,’ ‘haven,’ ‘shroud.’ She paused, scanning the room for anything she might’ve missed, before asking, “Can I get some more pictures of your sketch?”
I held the sketch up for her, and noticed, for the first time, a dull ache in my right hand from the speed and intensity with which I had been drawing. Then Hannah handed the phone to me, asking which shot I thought was clearest. The sight of the image on the screen triggered my memory; my heart, which had finally settled into a normal rhythm, began pounding again.
“The pictures!” I cried. I called into the bathroom, “Finn, did you get the pictures I texted? The ones of Campbell’s new plans for Whispering Seraph?”
Finn emerged from the bathroom, still limping slightly, with a thick gauze dressing wrapped around his pant leg. “I did, and Hannah informed me about the rune, too. That’s why it’s even more crucial that we act quickly! I’m certain now that this angel—with or without Campbell’s cooperation—is trying to restore this place to a hub of Durupinen power. This sketch,” and here Finn took the sketchpad from Hannah’s hands and gazed at it intently, “is just further proof of that. The angel is hidden, Masked possibly, and this drawing is the only clue we have to exactly how it’s shielding itself. If Catriona and the Trackers can figure out what this drawing means, we might be able to reveal this angel for what it is… and stop Campbell once and for all.”
Finn took his phone back from Hannah and began emailing Catriona the pictures we’d taken, then followed up with a phone call. When she didn’t answer, Finn looked about ready to punch his fist through the nearest wall, but he took a deep breath and left an urgent voicemail instead. “Right,” he said, after hanging up.
Finn pulled the Book of Téigh Anonn from his suit jacket and began the protective Casting. He was finished in under a minute.
“Right then,” he said. “That’s sorted. I’ve got to go.”
20
A Moment in the Moonlight
“YOU’RE GOING? NOW?” I ASKED, A BIT DESPERATELY. I was still so spooked from the Muse incident that the thought of Finn’s leaving made me feel vaguely panicky.
“I’m going out onto the grounds to investigate this new layout,” he replied, before pausing and furrowing his eyebrows at me. “If that’s alright with you. I could… that is… do you need me for something?”
I laughed inwardly. “Comfort?” I thought. “To keep me from utterly falling apart?” I thought. But what I actually said was, “Can I come with you?”
Finn looked taken aback. I nearly told him to forget the idea, but the words were only halfway to my lips when he said, “Alright, then. If you’re up to it, let’s go.”
“I stabbed you in the leg,” I reminded him. “If you’re up for it, I’m up for it.”
A small smile betrayed him. “Fair enough. Let’s crack on then, before it gets too late and the security starts paying attention to who’s outside.”
I turned to Hannah just in time to see her and Milo exchanging a sly look.
“What?” I asked defensively.
“Nothing!” they both insisted at the very same time.
I narrowed my eyes at
both of them, but let it go. This was no time to indulge their theories—whatever they were—about me and Finn. “I’ll be right back,” I said. “Will you be alright while I’m gone?”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “You were the one causing all the chaos,” she said. “Get out of here before you get the urge to draw something else! We’ll start cleaning this up.” She gestured broadly, indicating my Muse-inspired mess.
Milo pointed silently but sternly toward the door, as if we were puppies who’d just messed on the rug. Feeling unaccountably nervous—maybe I was still just jumpy from the Muse episode—I followed Finn out into the hallway, which was deserted. Finn closed the door behind us, but not before instructing Hannah to lock it and not to open it for anyone.
“We don’t want anyone seeing Jess’ artwork before we have the chance to tidy it up,” he said. “But before you start cleaning, re-do those Wards. Top-levels now, don’t take any chances.”
We practically tiptoed down the hallway, even though there was no reason to hide. Downstairs, a lively buzz of laughter and conversation bled out into the lobby from the dining room, where the after-dinner revelry was still in full and raucous swing. For a moment, I had a hard time reconciling their mirth with the solemn and often tearful people I’d shared the retreat with thus far, but after considering it for a moment, I realized I understood them well; it made me sad. I knew many of them would wake up tomorrow full of regret, despairing at their decision to drown their sorrows instead of facing them. My mother had been, unfortunately, the queen of that particular destructive pattern, and I had dealt with the fallout over and over again my entire childhood.
“They’ve been at it for quite a while in there,” Finn said, cocking his thumb at the dining room as we walked onto the porch. The hot and humid night air greeted us like a wet blanket to the face.
“Yeah, and we’re damn lucky they are, or our cover might’ve been blown tonight,” I said.
Finn grunted in agreement. I followed him out across the expansive front lawn, then crunched with him down the wide gravel drive. At last, without warning, he stopped abruptly and turned back to face Whispering Seraph. I smacked right into him, then stumbled back so that he had to catch me by the arm to prevent me from falling to the ground. As per usual.
“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “I should have given warning.”
“That’s okay,” I said, tugging my arm from his grip and massaging it gently. “Where, exactly, are we going?”
“When you sent me that picture of Campbell’s new plans, I was already on my way back with a few photos of my own,” Finn said, pulling a manila envelope from his waistband. “Iggy’s been hard at work. He’s pulled together some very interesting satellite views of Whispering Seraph. The picture you sent confirmed what I was already beginning to suspect.” Finn pulled a picture from the envelope and handed it to me. “Notice anything?”
I took the picture from his outstretched hand and examined it in the pool of light coming from one of the driveway’s lampposts. It was an aerial view of the entire property. There was a gray, rectangular shape in the center, which, of course, was Whispering Seraph itself. There were several other shapes I recognized—the small pond, where I’d had my disastrous first encounter with Talia; the parking lot, where we’d parked our sedan yesterday; the barn, which was now being used to store golf carts. “Can you give me a hint? What am I supposed to be noticing?”
Finn indicated several highlighted spots on the map. “These are the blind spots Iggy told me about. If you’re in any of these locations, you can’t be seen by Campbell’s cameras. It’s not surprising that Whispering Seraph has these blind spots—it’s nearly impossible to surveil a property this large without creating a few. But there’s also something strategic about these blind spots.”
I looked again, pinpointing the highlighted locations. There were four of them altogether. “They’re so evenly spaced,” I said, running a finger over each one in turn. “If you connected them, they’d make a perfect diamond shape.”
“Or, if you looked at it another way,” Finn said, and he traced the pattern with his finger, first top to bottom and then left to right, “the four points of the compass. Geographically, that’s exactly how they line up: Due north, south, east, and west.”
“Okay, but why’s that significant?” I asked. My head, still pounding to the steady beat of my pulse after my Muse experience, felt sluggish.
“That picture you sent me shows the layout of Whispering Seraph as a massive Summoning Circle, but what if I told you that many of the basic components of the Circle were already in place?” Finn asked.
“Really? How so?” I asked.
“Well let’s start with the spot where we met earlier today,” Finn said, pointing down at one of the blind spots, which lined up perfectly with the place by the garage where we’d talked after Kyle’s outburst. “You remember I selected it for that very reason, so we could properly chat.”
“Yes, I remember,” I said, a bit impatiently. It had only been a few hours ago, after all.
“Do you see what else is there?” Finn asked. But before I could play his guessing game, Finn pointed down the driveway to the giant fire pit a few yards from the garage. Someone had been using it; a rosy little fire burned merrily away. I could just make out a few wine glasses and some empty plates; a handful of guests had clearly broken off from the dinner party to enjoy the relative solitude.
“Yes, I see it, Finn. What’s your point?” I asked.
“My point,” Finn said, “is this. If Campbell is trying to turn this place into a Summoning Circle, he’s going to need fire.” He stood glaring at me, waiting for me to catch up.
Suddenly it clicked. “Candles! We always need candles to create a Summoning Circle! So, does that mean… does the fire pit operate like a giant candle?”
“Precisely!” Finn said. “And not just any candle. As you know, there needs to be a candle representing each element. Here we are on the west side of the property, and so this fire pit, when lit, will represent water. And of course, what’s located just beyond it?”
“The pond!” I cried. I could see the moon, now high in the night sky, reflected on the water’s surface.
“Top marks!” Finn cried. He turned back to the aerial shot, holding it out so I could examine it too. “I think each of these other areas on the map must have a fire pit as well, with each representing one of the four classical-element candles. I’ll also wager that there’s something at each location corresponding to the necessary element. Or there will be, by the time Campbell is finished. The fifth candle, the Spirit Candle, will probably be part of the house itself.”
“I don’t believe this,” I said. “This is insane. What can Campbell even do with a giant Summoning Circle? It’s completely useless without a Durupinen to control it!”
“I don’t think Campbell rightly knows what’s going on,” Finn said. “If you ask me, I’d bet that angel creature is using Campbell every bit as much as it’s using the guests.”
I nodded grimly. “I think you’re right.”
We walked together down the long driveway toward the garage. Then we examined the fire pit closely, tensed all the while in case someone interrupted us; thankfully, whoever had been enjoying the fire had abandoned it. The fire pit was ringed in gray stone, with a number of large blue stones, like massive, polished marbles, inlaid among the masonry.
“This is incredible,” I whispered, brushing my fingers over one of the blue stones. “Blue, just like the blue candle we use to Summon the element of water. Do you think the other fire pits are the same, only with different colors?”
“Only one way to find out,” answered Finn. “Time to investigate.”
We set out across the lawn, taking a leisurely pace so that we looked as if we were merely taking a casual stroll after the party.
Through the mansion’s windows, we saw that the party was breaking up at last. Only a few people remained in the dining room, while a half-dozen or so ot
hers were milling around the lobby. Their loud, drunken voices spilled out onto the porch.
We skirted along the lawn’s perimeter, staying to shadows whenever possible. We walked a full quarter of the way around the property. As we turned around an enormous oak tree, we found what we were looking for: A second fire pit was under construction.
We approached it cautiously, but the area was deserted. The fire pit was sectioned off with traffic cones and yellow “caution” tape. A sign hammered into the ground read: “Please pardon our appearance. Area under construction. Do not enter.” We ignored this warning, ducked under the tape, and walked up to the partially completed fire pit.
“If we’ve read this map properly, and I’m quite sure we have, this location should correspond with the element of air—which means… yes, yellow stones. They’ve already set some of them,” Finn said, smiling in grim satisfaction. We squatted down, side by side, to examine the yellow gems set into the fire pit’s half-completed stonework.
“What do you think they are?” I asked. “Amber?”
“Most likely. Or topaz or citrine. It would be ideal if we could find a sample to send to the Trackers for testing. It might be an important detail.”
“Let’s have a look around,” I said. “There could be pieces of it around here from the construction.”
Finn immediately dropped to his knees, pulling his cell phone from his pocket to use as a flashlight. I followed his lead; we crawled around in silence for several minutes, carefully feeling around in the cracks and crevices of the masonry for a sample. Two-thirds of the way around the fire pit, I discovered a burlap sack tucked into a gap in the rocks. I tugged it out; it was unexpectedly heavy for its size.
“Finn! Come look at this!” I hissed.
He crawled over to me and we peered together into the bag. The light from Finn’s cell phone threw golden glimmers off of a pile of smooth, perfectly round yellow stones; each one was about the size of my palm.
