He looks surprised. “Of course not. It would be pointless to kill a queen without stabbing her through the heart,” he says, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Her murder wasn’t our style at all, although we’re certainly grateful that someone else chose to do it.”
He begins to explain that stabbing a queen through the heart prevents her from taking power on to the afterlife and seeking revenge, but I tune him out, realizing that as he’s talking, his grip on my wrist is relaxing. I scan my brain for an herb I can channel if I’m able to touch my Stone of Carrefour.
The only thing that comes to mind is an image of wishing on dandelions with my mother when I was a little girl.
It’s not perfect, but it will have to do.
I silently ask Eloi Oke to open the gate, and then, just as Vauclain is concluding his explanation of how a queen’s heart is her greatest source of magic but also her greatest vulnerability, I twist my left hand away from him and punch him across the face with my right.
In the seconds it takes him to recover, I grab my Stone of Carrefour and say, “Dandelion, I draw your power. Spirits, please grant my wish and render Aloysius Vauclain incapable of following me. Mesi, zanset.”
He’s already grabbing for me, and I have no idea if the charm worked, but I don’t wait to find out. I begin to run back in the direction of Peregrine’s house, my head throbbing and my mouth dry with fear. I trip over a root and scramble to my feet again.
Once I’m out of the clearing, I run for my life, branches scraping my face. Their gnarled fingers reach for me in the darkness as I stumble into the tombs that rise from the soft, decaying earth. The ground rolls beneath my feet, and I can’t trust my own steps.
The only thing I do know is that Vauclain is somewhere behind me, his long jacket making him one with the black shadows of the cemetery. I can hear his footsteps in the darkness. The jagged edge of a broken tombstone appears just ahead, and I stumble, landing flat on my face. A buried rock slices into my cheek, and I feel blood as I scramble to my feet.
“Help!” I cry, hoarse with terror as the mansion on the edge of the cemetery comes into view. It glows in the blackness, but I fear I won’t make it that far.
I just have to get out of the cemetery, I tell myself.
I struggle to my feet once again. I want to live. I have to live. I hold so many lives in my hands.
It feels like an eternity passes before I can see Peregrine’s back fence. I turn to glance behind me and as I do, I collide hard with someone warm and solid who lets out a startled “Oof!”
I scream, sure that it’s Vauclain, that he’s somehow materialized in front of me to kill me within sight of salvation.
“Please don’t!” I cry.
“Eveny?” says a deep voice, and that’s when I realize it’s not the Main de Lumière general. Relief floods through me as I look up to see Caleb’s face creased with worry.
“Caleb,” I breathe, collapsing into him.
He holds me for a moment, then pulls away, steadying me by putting his hands on my forearms. “Eveny, what is it?”
“The frat guy,” I begin, but I’m barely able to get the rest of the words out. The exhaustion I’ve been fighting for the last hour is overtaking me. “It was the Main de Lumière guy,” I finally manage. “The one from the party.”
He’s already scooping me into his arms and carrying me toward Peregrine’s house. “I thought he was going to kill me,” I say weakly, my voice muffled against the soft nub of his shirt.
“Eveny, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” Caleb’s voice is rough with emotion, and it looks like he’s about to cry. “I tried to follow you, but possession ceremonies take all the life out of you. By the time I got to the door, you were gone, and . . .”
“Caleb, if you’d been there, he could have killed you.”
We’ve reached Peregrine’s back door now, and Caleb gently sets me back on my feet. “Are you okay? Can you stand?”
I nod, but before I can say anything, he pulls me toward him, and I melt into his strong chest, already feeling safer. “How can I ever ask you to forgive me, Eveny?” he whispers into my hair.
“It’s not your fault,” I say softly, and Caleb makes a deep guttural sound in the back of his throat.
“Eveny—” he begins, but then he stops.
“What?” I whisper.
“It is my fault.” He looks away from me and puts his hand on Peregrine’s back door. “It’s just like I said. I didn’t know you were in trouble until it was too late.”
“But it wasn’t too late,” I say, and I pull him back toward me. “I’m here. I’m okay.” I never want him to let me go.