And why? Because he couldn’t be a Caster?

“You were the One Who Is Two. Your fate was to be punished. You should not have brought the Lilum into matters that were not hers to resolve.”

“Wait. What does Lilian English—I mean, the Lilum—have to do with any of this?” My English teacher, whose body had been inhabited by the most powerful creature in the Demon world, had been the one who showed me what I had to do to fix the Order of Things.

Was that why he was punishing me? Did I get in the way of whatever he was planning with Abraham? Destroying the Mortal race? Using Casters as lab rats?

I always believed that when Lena and Amma brought me back from the dead with The Book of Moons, they had set something in motion that couldn’t be undone. It started the unraveling that ripped the hole in the universe, which was the reason I had to right it at the water tower.

What if I had it backward?

What if the thing that was supposed to happen was the unraveling?

What if fixing it was the crime?

It was all so clear now. Like everything had been lost in darkness, and then the sun came out. Some moments are like that. But now I knew the truth.

I was supposed to fail.

The world as we knew it was supposed to end.

The Mortals weren’t the point. They were the problem.

The Lilum wasn’t supposed to help me, and I wasn’t supposed to jump.

She was supposed to condemn me, and I was supposed to give up. Angelus had bet on the wrong team.

A sound echoed through the hall as the great doors on the far side pushed open, revealing a small figure standing between them. Talk about betting on the wrong team—I wouldn’t have made this bet, not in a thousand lifetimes.

It was more unexpected than Angelus or any of the Keepers.

He smiled broadly; at least I think it was a smile. It was hard to tell with Xavier.

“He-hello.” Xavier glanced around the intimidating room, clearing his throat. He tried again. “Hello, friend.”

It was so quiet, you could’ve heard one of his precious buttons drop.

The only thing that wasn’t quiet was Angelus. “How dare you show your defiled face here again, Xavier. If there is anything of Xavier left, beast.”

Xavier’s leathery wings shrugged.

Angelus only looked angrier. “Why have you involved yourself in this? Your fate is not intertwined with the Wayward. You are serving your sentence. You don’t need to take a dead Mortal’s battles on as your own.”

“It is too late for that, Angelus,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because he paid his way, and I accepted the price. Because”—Xavier slowed his words, as if he was letting them fall into place in his mind—“he is my friend, and I have no other.”

“He’s not your friend,” Angelus hissed. “You’re too brainless to have a friend. Brainless and heartless. All you care about are your worthless trinkets, your lost baubles.” Angelus sounded frustrated. I wondered why he cared what Xavier thought or did.

What is Xavier to him?

There had to be a story there. But I didn’t want to know about anything that involved Angelus and his minions, or the crimes they must have committed. The Far Keep was the closest thing I’d ever found to Hell in real life—at least in my real afterlife.

“What you know of me,” said Xavier slowly, “is nothing.” His twisted face was even more expressionless than usual. “Less than I know of myself.”

“You are a fool,” Angelus answered. “That I know.”

“I am a friend. I have in my possession two thousand assorted buttons, eight hundred keys, and only one friend. Perhaps it is not something you can understand. I have not often been one before.” He looked proud of himself. “I will be one now.”

I was proud of him, too.

Angelus scoffed. “You will sacrifice your soul for a friend?”

“Is a friend different from a soul, Angelus?” The Council Keeper said nothing. Xavier cocked his head again. “Would you know if it were?”

Angelus didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. We all knew the answer.

“What are you doing here, then? Mortali Comes.” Angelus took a step toward Xavier, and Xavier took a step back. “Friend of the Mortal,” Angelus snarled.

I resisted the urge to insert myself between them, hoping that Xavier, for both our sakes, didn’t try to run away.

“You seek to destroy the Mortal, do you not?” Xavier swallowed.

“I do,” Angelus answered.

“You seek to end the Mortal race.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course. Like any infestation, the ultimate goal is annihilation.”

Even though I was expecting it, Angelus’ answer caught me off guard. “You—what?”

Xavier looked at me like he was trying to shut me down. “It is no secret. The Mortals are an irritant to the supernatural races. This is not a new concept.”

“I wish it was.” I knew Abraham wanted to wipe out the Mortal race. If Angelus was working with him, their goals were aligned.

“You seek entertainment?” Xavier watched Angelus.

Angelus looked at Xavier’s leathery wings, disgusted. “I seek solutions.”

“To the Mortal condition?”

Angelus smiled, dark and joyless. “As I said. The Mortal infestation.”

I felt sick, but Xavier only sighed. “As you wish to call it. I propose a challenge.”