ring of the charmed circle of iron embedded in the door. Radiating out from it were black threads making a spiral pentagram with arcane symbols. In the middle was my handprint, and it was molding to the spell, making it wholly mine. No one would open the door again.
"He's gone! Let it go!" Ivy shouted, and this time, I did.
I gasped as the power shut off, jerking as the cold swarmed in to replace the heat. I clenched in on myself, whispering, "I take it. I take it. I take it," before the imbalance could strike me. Tears leaked out through my clenched eyes as I felt the ugly black slither over me like a cool silk sheet. It had been a black curse, but I had used it without thought. Even so, the tears weren't for me: they were for Kisten.
Silence apart from my rasping breaths. My chest hurt. It felt like it was burning. Nothing flowed in me. I was a burnt-out shell. Everything was silent, as if the sounds themselves had been turned to ash.
"Can you stand?"
It was Ivy, and I blinked at her, unable to answer. Edden leaned over us, and I cried out in pain when his arms slipped between Ivy and me, raising me up as if I were a child.
"Oh shit, Rachel," he said when I fought back a wave of nausea. "You look like you've got a bad sunburn."
"It was worth it," I whispered. My lips were cracked, and my eyebrows felt singed when I touched them. The wall was still glowing as Edden shifted into motion. A spiderweb of black was etching through the door, turning the rock silver as it cooled. It was the curse that I had spoken, slowly lightening like stretch marks as the stone cooled. The door was fused shut, and my mark would warn anyone away from tampering with it. Not that I thought there was anything behind the door now.
I caught my breath in pain when Edden almost tripped and my tender skin was rubbed. Ivy touched my arm as if needing to reassure herself that I was okay. "Was that a ley line?" she asked hesitantly. "You did that with power right off a line, right?"
My chest hurt, and I hoped I hadn't damaged my lungs. "Yeah," I said softly. "Thank you for cushioning it."
"You have that kind of power all the time?" she said, almost a whisper.
I went to nod, then thought better of it when my skin pulled. "Yes."
The memory of the black magic symbol etched on the door rose through my thoughts. So it was a black charm. So what? I might be a black witch, but at least I was an honest one.
Edden slowly carried me back to the surface, silent but for his breathing. Everyone who knew Kisten had been murdered to satisfy a political agenda was either dead or in this hallway. My love would be remembered for dying to save Ivy's and my life. That was why he had died, not because of someone's whim. That was who Kisten was. Had been.
And no one would ever say different.
Chapter Thirty-four
Though my mom was hundreds of miles away by now, my room still smelled like her light lavender perfume, wafting up from the dusty boxes stacked where Robbie had left them beside my bed. It had been nice of him to bring them all in while Mom showed me the brochure of the apartment she had waiting for her in Portland.
Kneeling beside my bed, I pulled the top box to me, reading my adolescent scrawl before I shoved the box aside to take to the brat pack at the hospital later. The moving van had shown up at my mom's house yesterday, and I was tired of packing peanuts and bubble wrap, depressed by all the good-byes. Mom and Robbie had brought the last of my things over early this afternoon, waking me up and taking me out for a bon voyage breakfast at an old-lady eatery, since by Robbie's guess her kitchen was already in Kansas. I think we got bad service because of my shunning, but it was hard to tell unless your waitress wrote BLACK WITCH on the back of your napkin. It didn't matter. We weren't in any hurry. The coffee sucked dishwater, though.
Robbie had been in a good mood because he'd paid for the moving van. Mom had been in a good mood because she had some excitement in her life. I was in