what isn't. Especially since I killed my father in that nightmare school."
Reggie looks over at me in concern, raising his brows. "You killed your father, and you think that's a good thing?"
"The Heretic," I correct myself, wishing I'd just called him that in my first place. "I killed the Heretic. Or a version of him, at least. And something about it felt... right. Like it reset my inner compass or something."
"Whatever you say. You're the witch." He sighs, playing with the end of one of his long braids, which make his already-handsome face that much more attractive, framing his cheekbones and casting shadows along his neck. "I just think maybe something else might settle your magic even better. Something like a kiss from me. Or maybe more."
I roll my eyes, and David shoves Reggie, scowling. The two fall into a kind of friendly fight, playfully punching and shoving each other. I'm about to break it up when I feel something shift in the air around us, and a shiver goes through me.
We've come to a strange clearing in the maze. There are even more rosebushes here, and a fountain in the middle of them. But that's not what alarms me.
On the other side of the roses is a wrought iron gate set into the hedges.
Beyond it, I can see nothing but mist, thick and inpenetrable. As I walk into the clearing, the guys behind me, the mist rolls through the gaps in the wrought iron and wraps itself around my ankles. David and Reggie quit the roughhousing and prowl around us, checking every shadow, while Xavier strides over to stand at my side. I can feel the tension in the air, fear that another attack is coming—this time, not on our minds, but our bodies and souls. My familiars are poised to shift into their animal forms and do whatever it takes to protect me, even though we have little hope of surviving.
So I pull every bit of magic out of me and stride forward into the mist, the back of my neck prickling as I approach the strange, wrought iron gate.
Reggie jostles me and pulls me behind him, murmuring, "Stand back, just in case."
"I feel something." Looking around, I reach into our surroundings using my naturalistic senses, but the mist seems to disguise everything. "I don't think it's a threat. Just... something."
Which is when the fireball comes barreling through the mist and makes a hole in the hedges. I jump back and whirl towards its source—only to see Dani standing on the other side of a row of hedges that have now been eaten through by her Black Phoenix flames.
I walk towards her, but as I do so a rift forms in the ground at our feet and pulls her away. So I stop, heart in my throat, desperate to find out if there's a way out of here.
"Dani! What are you doing here?"
She's supposed to be off saving immortals somewhere in a Danish village.
Unless that already happened.
Unless so much time passed in the outside world that I've missed much of what's going on.
My heart squeezes at the thought.
"Not important. What's going on? What are you doing?"
She's getting further and further away. I raise my voice as loud as I can. "We're stuck! We can't get out."
What? she mouths.
"Stuck!" I wave my hands at her. "I've been trying to use my magic to find a path out, but I can't. I'm running low on power—and the door that the trickster demon dragged us through is closed. We're stuck, we have no way out, but please—if you're here, can you help us?"
There's a gate between the two of us, and as Dani grabs it and pulls, she winces and draws her hands back. A strange new bracelet I've never seen before glows at her wrist. That familiar Dani Carpenter frustration breaks out on her face, and I feel a sense of foreboding. Knowing her reputation, she's probably going to throw firepower at this.
Yep. The moment I think it, Dani is suddenly wreathed in black and orange fire. Her wings glow behind her, unfurling in black feathers. She raises her hands and throws everything she's got at the hedges between us, trying to burn it all down even as the leaves and branches regrow.
"Get down!"
David grabs my shoulders and pulls me down with him as the fire waves towards us. But it doesn't burn us—it stops at our feet, singing the roses and turning much of the garden to ash.
When I