9.12

Adam and Eve

Lena stopped in front of a black lacquered door. A handmade flyer for the Holy Rollers—WHAT’S ROCK WITHOUT THE ROLL?—hung skewed to one side. She knocked on Ridley’s door. “Rid?”

“Why are we looking for Ridley?” I had seen enough of her today.

“We aren’t. There’s a shortcut to the Tunnels in her room. Uncle Macon’s secret passageway, remember?”

“Right. Because now his bedroom is…” I looked at the door, trying to imagine how Ridley had massacred Macon’s old room. I hadn’t been in it since the day Lena and I broke up.

Lena shrugged. “He didn’t want to keep his old room. And he sleeps in his study in the Tunnels most of the time, anyway.”

“Good choice for Ridley’s room. Because she’s not the kind of girl who would sneak out a secret passageway in the middle of the night,” I said.

Lena paused, her hand on the doorway. “Ethan. She’s the least magical person in the house. She’s got more to be afraid of going down there than any of—”

Before she could finish her sentence, I heard an unmistakable sound. The sound of the sky ripping, and an Incubus slipping out of sight.

Traveling.

“Did you hear that?”

Lena frowned at me. “What?”

“It sounded like someone was ripping.”

“Uncle Macon doesn’t rip anymore. And Ravenwood is completely Bound. There’s no way any Incubus, no matter how powerful, could get in here.” She looked worried, though, even as she said the words.

“It must have been something else. Maybe Kitchen is experimenting again.” I touched her hand on the door, my breath catching. “Open up.”

Lena pushed, but nothing happened. She pushed again. “That’s weird. The handle’s jammed.”

“Let me try.” I threw my weight against the door. It didn’t budge, which was kind of humiliating, so I tried it again, even harder. “It’s not jammed. It’s—you know.”

“What?”

“Whatever the Latin is for using magic to lock your door.”

“You mean a Cast? That’s not possible. Ridley couldn’t use an Obex Cast, even if she found one in a book. They’re too difficult.”

“Are you kidding me? After the stunt she pulled with the cheer squad?”

Lena looked at the door, her green eye glowing and her gold eye darkening. Her black curls began to blow around her shoulders, and before I heard her speak the Cast, the door blew open with such force it went flying off the hinges and into Ridley’s bedroom. Which seemed like the Caster way of saying “Screw you.”

I flipped on the lights inside Ridley’s room.

Lena wrinkled her nose as I picked up a pink lollipop stuck to the long blond hairs wrapped around a giant hot roller. There was a mess of clothes and shoes and nail polish and makeup and candy—on every surface, in the sheets, hidden in the pink retro shag carpet.

“Make sure you put that back where you found it. She’ll have a fit if she finds out we were in here. She’s been really weird about her room lately.” Lena nudged an open bottle of nail polish that was oozing onto the dresser. “But there are no signs of Casting. No books or charms.”

I flipped back the pink carpet to reveal the smooth lines of the hidden Caster door in the floor.

“Nothing except—” Lena held up a nearly empty bag of Doritos. “Ridley hates Doritos. She likes sweet, not salty.”

I stared down into the darkness at the stairs I only half believed were there. “I’m looking at an invisible stairwell, and you’re telling me the chips are weird?”

Lena held up a second bag, a full one. “Pretty much. Yes.”

I held out my foot, feeling around until I found the solid footing in the air. “I used to like chocolate milk. Now it makes me sick. Does that mean I have magic powers, too?”

I stepped into the darkness before I could hear her answer.

At the base of the stairs that led into Macon’s private study, we could see him standing at a desk, staring at the pages of an enormous book. Lena took a step—

“Seven.” A girl’s voice.

We froze at the sound of the familiar voice. I put my hand on Lena’s arm.

Wait.

So we stood in the shadows of the passage, at the edge of the door. They hadn’t seen us.

“Seven what, Miss Durand?” Macon asked.

Liv appeared in the doorway, holding a stack of books. Her blond hair spilled over her favorite Pink Floyd T-shirt, her blue eyes catching the light. In the darkness of the underground, Liv looked like she was made of sunshine.

Marian’s former assistant, my former friend. But that wasn’t quite right, and we all knew it. She had felt like more than a friend. While Lena was gone, that had been one thing. But Lena wasn’t gone anymore, which left us where? Liv would always be my friend, even if she couldn’t be. She had helped me find my way back to Lena, and to the Great Barrier, the seat of both Dark and Light power. She had given up her future as a Keeper for me and Lena. We both knew we would always owe Liv for that.

There was more than one kind of way to be Bound to a person. I had learned that myself, the hard way.

Liv let the books drop onto the desk in front of Macon. Dust rose from the ancient bindings. “There are only five instances of mixed Caster bloodlines powerful enough to result in this combination. I’ve been cross-referencing every Caster family tree I can find on both sides of the Atlantic, including your own.”