by Erin Bowman
“I stood by my bedroom window after we spoke, looking down on the garden,” Sophia said. “I wanted to confirm that you’d started your search for the elixir. Imagine my surprise when I saw you appear out of nowhere on the patio. As though you’d been invisible one second, then visible the next. Then I watched you climb one of the stag statues and vanish again.” Sophia smiled cunningly. “You may have found your affinity on your own, Piper, but you’ve yet to master it.”
“So you followed me.”
“Not at first. I thought you were ambling around the grounds, invisible. But I eventually realized you’d accessed some type of doorway from the stag. And now here I am, so very pleased to see that you’ve done all the hard work for me.” Sophia’s golden-green eyes locked on the bottle in Piper’s hand. “Now give me the elixir.”
Piper pulled it closer to her body.
Sophia let out a small chuckle. “Be sensible, Piper. I’ll call you a taxi if you hand it over.”
Rage boiled inside Piper. “I don’t have time to wait for a taxi. I have to go now, and you know what? My friends understand. They’re going to help me, but my own mother won’t! How can you be like this?”
Sophia smirked.
“Is it because Grandma made you feel small all your life that you have to do the same to me? Well, you’re not her and I’m not you, and he’s dying, Mom,” Piper said. “The least you could have done was drive me to him so I could say good-bye. We could have said good-bye to him together, but you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
Something stalled in Sophia’s face, her expression momentarily blank. “You said ‘we.’ Like a team. Mother and daughter.”
“Yeah. I’ve wanted that forever. I’ve wanted it since the day you left.”
Sophia smiled, but it wasn’t the cruel kind Piper had grown used to. This smile was genuine, warm and inviting. Her eyes brightened, turning pure green, and this time, Piper was certain it wasn’t a trick of the light. The gold flecks in Sophia’s eyes had truly vanished. “Let’s go to the hospital,” she said, holding a hand out for Piper.
The Persian hissed and Sophia flinched, touching her temple as though she’d experienced a jolt of pain. She jostled her head, straightened, then waved for Piper again. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Piper didn’t have time to explain that she only needed to reach the patio, that Kenji was willing to bring her to the hospital; teleportation would be far quicker than a car ride with Sophia. Nor did she have time to be shocked at her mother’s sudden reversal, or wonder if she should trust her at all. Every minute she wasted was less time she had with her father.
But before she could step toward the patio, the Persian hissed again. This time, the noise was unnaturally loud and grating, like a siren’s scream instead of a cat’s meow. Piper clamped her eyes shut and tried to cover her ears (an interesting feat with the bottled elixir in her hand). When the scream ended, she cracked open an eye. A yellow fog had gathered around the animal, and through it, Piper watched the cat writhe. It splintered and shifted and morphed. The white fur melted away and a dark shape rose from the ground, sprouting limbs, a torso, a face. Soon a woman stood where the cat had been, a ring of ash encircling her. A bun of white hair was piled atop her head, reminiscent of the Persian’s massive tail, and two catlike green eyes blinked at Piper.
“G-grandma?” Piper stuttered.
“Enough!” Melena M. Mallory snarled, batting a hand at Sophia. Piper’s mother crumpled to her knees, her skin suddenly pale. “You always were weak, Sophia, but I must say I’m impressed. You nearly overpowered me.”
“Shape-shifting,” Julius murmured from behind Piper. “One of the rarest affinities.”
The ring of ash Piper had found in Melena’s office suddenly made sense. Her grandmother had turned herself into a Persian cat, and the ash was a side effect of the transformation, the magi residue left behind. The cat Piper had seen trapped in Melena’s sitting room must have been the real Wolfe.
“W-where am I?” Sophia gingerly touched her head. Her eyes remained that pure, deep green, no trace of gold.
“Silence.” Melena flicked her wrist, and Sophia went quiet. Even when her mouth opened in protest, no sound came out.
“Piper, darling,” Melena crooned, one finger on the emerald stone of her choker. “I thought we might reconnect on better terms, but your mother is really failing here, per usual, and well, I’ve been forced to take matters into my own hands. Now, may I have my elixir?”
Piper remained frozen. She couldn’t process what was happening. Her grandmother wasn’t missing, she’d been at the estate all along. Disguised as a cat. Spying on her. Following her.
Piper wanted to run suddenly, but she couldn’t feel her legs. She reached for her affinity, but it felt forged in steel, almost foreign. It wasn’t just that she was tired or drained; something was physically wrong. She didn’t feel like herself. A cold fist had tightened at the edges of her mind.
“Mom, do something,” Piper pleaded.
But Sophia merely looked up at Piper, shame in her eyes, and the truth slammed into Piper like a sledgehammer: Sophia couldn’t fight back, not even if she wanted to. The journal Sophia had kept, admitting that her affinity hadn’t presented; her obsession with Mallory Estate and the otherness she’d sensed in the garden; the scientific paper she’d published as an adult because, above all else, she just wanted her mother to love and accept her.
“You’re a hollow,” Piper whispered.
Sophia nodded slowly.
“Yes, my own blood is a worthless hollow,” Melena sneered. “But you …” She turned to Piper. “In very rare instances, magi abilities can skip a generation, so I checked up on you every year, at every birthday. You had an aura—I had a friend check for me—but so did Sophia at your age. I didn’t hold my breath. You were proving to be just like your mother—a hollow—but when Atticus proposed we take you in, I saw an opportunity, an angle I hadn’t tried. Without proper guidance or the right environment, it was possible your affinity had been suppressed. But Sophia turned on me before I could welcome you to the estate, betrayed my trust and helped Theodore Leblanc escape. I had to improvise before she jeopardized all the progress we’d made.” Melena’s eyes flicked between Sophia and Piper. “Given how desperately Sophia always wanted my approval, I figured you’d want hers above all else. So I disappeared and left you with dear old mommy, making sure she would drive you toward the elixir every step of the way.”
The cruelness, the way Sophia had kept her distance … Had it all been orchestrated by Melena?
“You’ve been controlling her,” Piper theorized aloud. “You transformed into the Persian and brainwashed Mom, making her do and say whatever you wanted.”
“Two affinities?” Julius muttered, dumbstruck.
Melena smiled thinly. “Yes, the most powerful magi have always had more than one affinity, and after I’d disguised myself as Wolfe, I had Sophia lock the real Wolfe in my sitting room.” Her eyes bore into Piper. “And then I had Sophia ridicule and belittle you, Piper. I had her look down on your lack of affinity, knowing it would drive you to try to uncover one for yourself. After all, every child wants their mother’s approval.”
“But she tried to fight you,” Piper said, thinking about the moments when her mother seemed genuinely concerned about her, different from the dismissive and cold person she usually was. When the Persian had been at a distance and when Piper had touched her mother, Melena’s control had momentarily faltered. Piper had seen it in Sophia’s eyes—when the golden flecks faded.
But now in the garden, with the Persian right at Sophia’s feet, Piper hadn’t even needed to touch her mother for Sophia to fight back. Her mere words—a request that they work together—had helped clear Sophia’s mind and forced Melena to reveal herself.
“She did,” Melena agreed, “though she could never keep it up for long. Sophia is always fighting me, unless of course she’s trying to impress me. She’s been a nuisance since th
e day she was born.” The woman’s eyes flicked to Sophia. “I should have taken over your mind far sooner. Maybe then Teddy wouldn’t have had the opportunity to mysteriously disappear.” Melena looked over Piper’s shoulder, searching out the boy.
“Yes, Mother,” Sophia said. “All my nuisance research helped me keep Teddy safe. I knew the anomalies created a barrier around the garden, and I knew Teddy would be safe inside the concealment, protected from you until I could reach him.”
“He was our only lead into the garden, and you trapped him where he could have starved to death,” Melena growled.
“But he didn’t starve. And he wasn’t truly trapped, either. He could have traveled back in time to before the concealment and stayed hidden in the past. That was all that mattered. Hiding him. Keeping him safe from you.”
Melena touched the choker at her neck and glared at Sophia. Piper’s mother went pale again, clamping her mouth shut.
“I knew Mrs. Peavey didn’t want me stuck in here,” Teddy exclaimed. “I knew she was trying to protect me.”
Piper risked a glance in his direction. He still stood behind her, rosy-cheeked from the run from the infinity pool. He’d been right to trust Sophia all this time. She’d truly had his best interests at heart. Piper felt ill at how dismissive she’d been, how she’d laughed at the way he trusted her mother.
“Yes, and by the time I was in Sophia’s head,” Melena said to Teddy, “it was too late to do anything about your disappearance. I didn’t have a time-bending affinity, so there was no way for me to get into the garden. But the key was safe, and I decided to leave it where Sophia had hidden it until another child found a way in.” Melena’s gaze shifted back to Piper. “I thought you’d run for mommy’s praise the second you made any progress. Instead your affinity kept your movements hidden, and your selfish desire to save your father kept you from confiding in anyone at the estate.”
“Selfish?” Piper snapped. “You’re the one doing all this because the HOM didn’t vote to undo the concealment or make you a member of the Order.”
“I do not expect a child to understand the complexities of the High Order of Magi. These concealed artifacts hold some of the greatest magic in the entire world, and they are wasting away. Sophia’s paper put the elixir at risk and made our family a laughingstock of the magi community. I am going to reverse that.” Melena pushed back her shoulders. “I have a friend with an affinity for duplication. We can produce the elixir of immortality on a massive scale. Sell it to those in need. I will be worshipped. Revered.”
“Real noble,” Teddy muttered.
Melena squeezed a fist and Teddy choked on his own words. “I am one of the greatest magi alive today. I will not be ignored any longer. Now, Piper, hand over that elixir.”
Piper stared, shell-shocked. All these years, her grandmother had stayed in touch not because she cared about Piper; she was merely keeping tabs on a potential asset. That was all Piper had been to her: a thing she could use to achieve her goals.
Her stomach writhed. She felt like she might be sick.
“The elixir,” Melena said again, beckoning with a finger.
Why was she even asking? If she claimed to be one of the greatest magi alive, couldn’t she just take it?
For this magic to work, it must willingly be traded.
Have you truly earned it? Is this fated?
Piper had earned the elixir by besting the trials, but for that magic to change hands, it had to be willingly traded. A drinker would have to want to live forever to be granted immortality by the elixir. Similarly, if Melena was to be the new owner of the elixir, Piper had to willingly hand it over.
A grin spread across her face. She was safe. There was nothing Melena could do. So long as Piper refused to hand over the bottle, Melena would never get the elixir.
That was when she felt the icy touch of her grandmother in her head—that same cold grip she’d felt when trying to summon her affinity earlier.
Piper’s grasp loosened on the bottle. She should just hand it over. It was selfish, keeping the elixir hidden when the magic could be used to save millions. So much power should be in the hands of an adult. Piper wanted to give the elixir to Melena. She wanted her grandmother to have it.
She felt her arm moving, extending, holding the bottle out.
“Piper, no!” Teddy shouted.
There was a struggle behind her, and Piper heard Teddy drop to his knees against his will.
Melena was too powerful. If she could control the minds of multiple people at once, Piper didn’t stand a chance.
“That’s right, Piper,” Melena said coolly. “You don’t. You stand no chance at all. Just succumb to it. Hand it over.”
Something caught Piper’s eye—movement among the oaks, something flickering in and out of existence. Kenji.
“Don’t do it, Piper! Don’t listen to her!” Then Kenji flipped the collar of his jacket and vanished.
Chapter Twenty-Six Forces Unknown
Several things happened at once, the first being that Kenji appeared directly behind Melena and gave her a firm shove, which caused Melena’s hold on Piper’s mind to weaken momentarily. Piper shook her head, coming out of a fog.
She pulled the elixir back to her chest, clutching it tightly, only for Melena to lunge directly for it.
She wouldn’t have been able to grab it, not if Piper’s assumptions about the trapdoor’s inscription were correct, but Piper reacted as any sane person would if someone was diving at them. She tossed the elixir past Melena, to her mother, who still sat in the dirt several feet away. Melena growled. Piper scrambled backward.
At the same time, Camilla manipulated the dirt path, causing it to buck and heave until a series of ruts separated the five of them and Melena from Sophia, who was now crawling for the shelter of the nearest oak tree, bottled elixir in hand.
Kenji jumped behind Melena again, but before he could attack, the woman touched the choker at her neck. Yellow fog swirled as she transformed into a dark falcon. With a flap of its wings, it flew into the storm clouds.
There was a clap of thunder and the sky opened up. Piper was soaked in seconds.
“Everyone okay?” Julius shouted through the rain.
A chorus of yeses sounded through the oaks.
Someone collided with Piper from behind—Teddy. “We have to get you out of here,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “Right now.”
“I don’t have the elixir.”
“What?!”
Piper thrust an arm in her mother’s direction and Teddy gulped. The barricade of deeply rutted earth stood between them and where Sophia still sat at the base of one of the oaks. Piper yelled for Camilla to flatten the ruts, but a falcon cry overhead drowned out her words. Something swooped through the trees, and Piper felt claws scratch the back of her neck. The locket’s chain tightened beneath her chin, then broke. Piper looked up to see the bird—her grandmother—carrying her amplifier away.
A cold voice slid into Piper’s head. Try to hide from me now, Granddaughter. The falcon opened its claws and the locket glinted as it fell somewhere in the western half of the garden.
“Head for the exit!” Piper shouted. “I’ll get the elixir.”
A bolt of lightning snaked out of the sky, striking one of the ancient oaks. Fire sparked and embers showered down from the branches.
Kenji yelled, “Camilla, what are you doing?”
Piper swiveled to face her. Camilla’s expression was vacant, as though she was in a trance, and she was breaking branches from the oaks and manipulating them into sharpened spears.
“Camilla—no!” Piper yelled, but Camilla had already hurled the spear at Kenji. The boy barely managed to teleport away in time. Julius picked up another spear and flung it after him.
“My grandmother is in their heads!” Piper screamed.
She looked up, searching the teeming rain for Melena. A dark shape flashed between the trees, moving toward the burning oak—toward the very tree where S
ophia was huddled with the elixir.
Piper ran.
She heard Teddy begging her to take cover. She saw Kenji zipping around the garden, trying to avoid Melena’s control. She glimpsed Camilla fashioning more spears. But Piper ran.
Through the sheets of rain. Across the deeply rutted path. Toward the burning oak where her mother cowered. Piper had to reach her—had to protect the elixir. Her grandmother couldn’t have it.
The falcon dove out of the sky and slammed into the ground in front of Sophia. Fire and smoke billowed. Piper threw up an arm, shielding her eyes. When she lowered it, Melena stood tall and defiant before the burning oak tree.
“I’m so sorry,” Sophia muttered from where she cowered on the ground. Her hands were empty. “I couldn’t fight her. She was in my head and I gave it up—I passed it to her, willingly.”
“It’s over,” Melena exclaimed. She clutched the glass bottle in her left hand, the blue elixir glinting. Overhead, the oak’s branches crackled ominously. The rain was putting the fire out, but slowly.
Piper desperately reached for her invisibility. If she could disappear, maybe she could startle Melena enough to weaken the woman’s grip on them. At the very least, she could grab a spear and throw it at her grandmother’s head. But while Piper could sense her affinity, she couldn’t seem to harness it. She felt porous—like a sponge instead of a well, a pitcher with a fatal crack. She was so drained from earlier, and without her amplifier, she felt … broken.
Piper touched the place on her breastbone where the locket usually hung.
“Piper,” Sophia managed. She was faint from the heat of the fire—or maybe from trying to withstand Melena’s mind control. Sweat covered her brow. “It’s still there. An amplifier is just a tool, but you are the source.”
Julius and Teddy had told her the same thing. Yet it was hard to believe in this moment, when she felt small and weak and flawed.
“You are magic, Piper,” Sophia said, holding Piper’s gaze. Her eyes gleamed, honest and sincere. “Magic.”
