The Deck of Omens (The Devouring Gray #2) - Christine Lynn Herman Page 0,21

voice gentle. “I wanted Rosie back so badly, it almost cost me my life. But I’m learning how to live without her, even though it’s hard.”

Isaac nodded, tears stinging the back of his throat, and turned away. Working with the Hawthornes, it had always felt as if he were the one putting everything on the line for them. Risking his life over and over again for their reputation, their safety, their comfort.

But Violet was risking just as much as he was to be here. More, maybe. It was new for him to feel another person making room for him the way he’d always been taught to make room for someone else.

“Um. Let’s get started,” he said gruffly, kneeling in the grass and gesturing to an outline in the dirt. It was the founders’ symbol, the circle with four lines spearing through it, nearly meeting in the center. “This is where they did the ritual.”

The police had done a reasonable job clearing the bones away, but fragments of ivory still shone beneath the glow of his phone’s flashlight. Unease prickled down his spine as Violet knelt beside him, her brow furrowing. Her cat lurked behind them, his tail twitching.

“The Church did the ritual by singing outside the circle. But if we want to lure the Beast here, I should probably be inside it. Like my mom was.”

Isaac swallowed hard. “Then I’m going inside, too. I can open the Gray for you.”

Violet sighed and stood up, her toes poised at the edge of the circle. “When I teamed up with you, I really thought you’d help me figure out something logical and reasonable?—”

“Do you have a better plan?”

She rolled her eyes and stepped over the circle’s edge. “Obviously I don’t.”

They stared at each other nervously, but nothing happened. So after another moment, Isaac stepped over the line and joined her. Violet’s cat waited outside. Isaac figured Orpheus was the only smart one here.

Everything felt normal. So normal that as they sat down on the grass, Isaac spared a moment to wonder if this would even work at all.

“Okay,” Violet muttered, pulling out her phone. Isaac did the same. They’d gotten the song lyrics from the Church’s confiscated papers, and the picture he’d taken of the words made his chest feel tight with worry. “I can’t sing for shit, you’ve been warned?—”

“I actually can,” said Isaac, feeling a little self-conscious.

Violet glared at him. “Of course you can.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” She cleared her throat. “On three?”

He nodded. “One, two?—”

Sinners who were led astray,

Wandered through the woods one day,

Stumbled right into the Gray,

Never to return.

Hear the lies our gods will tell,

The prison the Four wove so well,

But listen to us when we say:

Branches and stones, daggers and bones,

Will meet their judgment day.

At first, their voices were awkward and strained. But Violet had warned him that the Church had chanted the lullaby again and again, so when they finished, they merely started it over, their voices unsure and cautious in the night. Isaac did not know when he realized something had changed, only that it had. The words were no longer voluntary; they poured from his throat like water, smooth and clear, blending with Violet’s voice until it felt as if something else were singing through them both.

The founders’ symbol around them began to glimmer, the fragments of ivory oozing iridescent liquid. Isaac had never seen anything like this before, and it made his voice falter slightly, his heartbeat speed up. He watched uneasily as the liquid ran through the grooves of the dirt lines, carrying with it a choking scent of decay. Isaac raised his hands, still singing, and concentrated.

The air around his hands grew warm as he summoned his power, light fragmenting across the entire clearing. His power always hurt. Made a dull ache rise beneath his skin, turned him flushed and feverish. Use it for long enough, push it hard enough, and he’d pass out. But Isaac was used to the pain.

He set his jaw, curled his fingers in the air, and tore a hole in the world.

It didn’t always work, opening the Gray. But it did this time. Isaac held his hands out, widening the gap, as mist poured into the circle. He’d opened it on his left so both he and Violet could stare through it, and as the fog thickened and their singing continued, he sensed her stiffening beside him.

The entire circle seemed to shift around them, and Isaac had the sense that they had been flung through