was the price.
Opening her bag, Donna gazed at all the pieces of the puzzle. The Ouroboros Blade, something that had possibly already served its purpose by getting her here. The Cup of Hermes, the glittering demon tear, and now the shining pear, fruit of the Gallows Tree—all these things had brought her to this place. She squeezed her hands together. Was it worth it? Could creating the Philosopher’s Stone be worth Navin’s life?
Donna already knew the answer to that.
Biting back a sob, she jumped off at the top and ran out into cold darkness.
Twenty-five
Donna found herself running straight into the heart of the Ironwood. Of course—where else would an escalator from Hell drop her off? Somehow, everything came back to this place. It always did. It was night, and she wondered how long she had until dawn. She hoped she was in time.
The trees that circled the clearing began to bend in a wind that was gathering around her, a portent that didn’t do her nerves any good. She stood in the center of it all and clutched the bag full of hope to her chest. What if she couldn’t do this? She didn’t know what came next. Okay, in theory she did, because she’d “read” the Silent Book and committed each diagram to memory—each stage in the creation of the Philosopher’s Stone. But knowing it and doing it were two very different things.
Donna looked at the frosty ground and imagined Navin somewhere far below. She refused to let the tears fall. She’d find him again. Somehow.
“Donna,” came a voice from between the trees. An old friend wheeled himself into the clearing.
“Maker! What are you doing here by yourself?” Donna ran to him, relief and joy surging through her.
He smiled through his beard and waved his hand to quiet her. “No time, no time. The others are coming. You need to make the Stone before Demian follows you. I knew you’d do it, Donna.”
Maker stayed close beside her as she laid out the ingredients. Then he handed her a small vial of salt, indicating that she should cast a protective circle around them. She hoped Maker would help with this part—with his power supporting hers, the barrier she created would be far more likely to delay anyone who might try to interfere with their work. But Maker shook his head.
“No, it must be your power, and yours alone. The first matter you draw upon will hopefully be enough to hold off a demon—even one as powerful as Demian.”
Donna didn’t question him, just cast the circle and set to work crushing the fruit and the glittering tear into the Cup of Hermes. She used the hilt of the blade to help with the process, wondering if it was what she was supposed to do; that part hadn’t been clear in the instructions, but it felt right. So she went with it, following her intuition and listening to the thread of power inside her like she’d been taught. Like Quentin and Maker had said to do.
Maker’s eyes filled with pride as he watched her, nodding approval and pointing out things here and there that she’d forgotten.
Donna began to believe she might actually do this. That there was hope, and she could make something as impossible as this final bargaining chip to use against the demons. Against—
Demian materialized directly in front of them, on the outside of the circle of salt. His pale face was drawn into tight lines and his mouth was hard, his skin practically glowing in the darkness. He pressed his hand against the invisible barrier surrounding them.
Sparks flew, and there was the sound of lightning.
Donna glared at him. “I’m busy, go away.”
“The Stone is mine.”
“Give me a chance, I haven’t finished yet,” she said, trying to stop her hands from shaking. She turned away and bent over the Cup of Hermes, reestablishing her connection to the prima materia within her. Maker watched the king of the demons, his wrinkled hands clutching the arms of his chair.
The first matter throbbed in her chest, beating in time with her heart. Donna focused on shaping reality, on making something that didn’t exist. She tapped into the power of creation and held her breath. Everything around her seemed to fade … Maker, trying to keep an eye on her and Demian at the same time, and the suspicious Demon King, waiting with his hands gripped tightly into fists.
She looked upward, into the sky, seeing the edges of the trees that vaulted above everything.