“Do you knowhowshe saved the world?” She draws out every word. I return a blank stare, and she slaps her hand on the dresser.
I flinch.
“She killed my daughter.” Delaney cants her head, her stare hollow. Confusion and dread knot tighter in my stomach. I didn’t even know shehada daughter, but this woman isn’t thinking straight. Nan didn’t kill anyone. She was a liar, but she wasn’t a killer.
My eyes dart around for an escape, but there’s only one door, and she stands in my way.
“W-why?” I ask. I don’t know if I’m buying time or trying to make sense of her accusations.
She shifts her weight, and her chest rises and falls with annoyance. As she shoves the newspaper across the dresser, my eyes catch on the headline again. And suddenly, my mind is untangling everything I’ve been told today. Twenty years ago, Nan stopped a catastrophe. And earlier, Ysenia told me about the mage who released Rafael Grimm’s soul.
Twenty years ago.
Gods. I look up at Delaney’s ominous smile. That mage must have been her daughter.
“Because… my Willow brought back our true founder, the heart and soul of death magic.” She confirms my thoughts just as I make the connection. “No longer are we going to live under the thumbs of those who seek to control us.”
My heart sinks as I realize what this means. The dead lines, the stolen relics… Delaney is behind the murders. How could I have been so blind?Shekilled Olivia.
“It was you,” I whisper. I have to get out of here. My eyes cast toward the door, hoping,prayingLyria, Beau, or even Lorne comes by.
“Oh, your little friends won’t come,” Delaney scoffs. “Friendship is meaningless at Gorhail. Willow released Rafael Grimm, tethering his soul to hers. When Rhea found out, she didn’t even give me a chance to reason with my daughter. No…” She pauses, glancing at the photograph of Nan on the newspaper. “Your dearest grandmother fragmented Willow’s soul across six relics. Doyouknow who trapped my beautiful child?”
When I don’t answer, she continues, “Her own friends, Viola. I will never forget their names. Rhea Corvi, who was a second mother to her; Peter Quince, who loved her once; Victor Carver Sr., who was like a brother to her; Faal Rowan and Sara Ducas, both of whom grew up with her; and the last one was a surprise—Eloise Beauchamps, Gorhail’s darling, not a mean bone in her body, they’d all said.”
My belly twists. Realization cascades through me like a cold shower; I would never have pieced it together on my own. Delaney is collecting the six relics that trapped her daughter’s soul so she can release her ghost. The dead lines, the blood that seals, the six heirloom relics. But Nan wouldnever inflict this pain upon anyone without reason. I have to believe that. The alternative would break me.
“I-I don’t…” I inch closer to the door with every word. My heart beats in my throat, the same acrid smell of death circling me, telling me my end is fast approaching. If she’s telling me all of this, she doesn’t intend to let me live. But Ineedto live. Sylas needs to know that Delaney is the mastermind, that Rafael Grimm is back, and that Delaney was behind the murders.
Delaney beams, victory pulling the corners of her lips. It’s sickening. “Go ahead, open the door,” she coos.
I don’t wait. But I wish I had.
The sharp stench of sweat, blood, and decay fills my nostrils. Mara stands there, and despite the smell, she’s looking like her old self, my boss and friend. I wonder if they continue to use Mara as a puppet to fool me into these narrow moments of oblivion. Her shoulders slouch forward, and she looks at me with a blank stare.
Sweat beads on the nape of my neck. My heart slams against my rib cage, begging me to run. But I have nowhere to go. I am trapped between the puppet and its master. I expect Mara to swing at me or shove me backward, but the blow never comes.
Delaney seems to be playing at something, biding her time. I will probably die here, but before I do, I have to find out as much as I can so that maybe a reader can extract my memories and Firstline can catch her. I start with the most puzzling question. Why now? “How long have you known Nan hadThe Founder’s Book of Relics?”
“I had my suspicions.” The saccharine timbre of her voice doesn’t dull the sharpness of what comes next. “Your idiot sister casually offered the information Rhea died guarding, said her sister wrote about some of the most beautiful books that were recently unboxed from her nan’s belongings.”
My heart sinks, and tears fill my eyes. It wasmyfault.
“You tricked her.” I straighten, edging closer to Mara, knowing very well that any moment she could snap my head into two. Even knowing that this is a losing fight, I cannot give up.
“She was by far the easiest kill,” Delaney says. “Didn’t even put up a fight.”
Rage bubbles inside of me. I’ve wanted so badly to face Olivia’s killer and ask them why. Yet I stand in the same room as Delaney, guilt carving out a bigger hole in my chest the more she speaks. She died because ofme, because of my forsaken magic, because of that stupid cuff, because of the stupid book I unboxed after a decade of its collecting dust in a crate.
“Olivia was a liar, albeit an excellent one. Twelve years, no suspicions, and all that time we thought her magic was weak because of her nonmagi parent,” she continues in my silence.
I press my hands to my sides. Nothing I say will bring Olivia back.
“At least her death wasn’t in vain, because it brought usyou. Hidden in plain sight. The heir to the final piece I need to reunite with my daughter.”
Mara’s face is inches from mine now, and she’s still immobile. Maybe if I keep Delaney talking, I’ll be able to make a run for Circle Three. Lorne should be in his office.
“Viola, sweet Viola.” She pushes off the dresser, her wrinkled lips curling into a crooked grin. “You’ve only been here weeks, and look at you. Two resurrections, one solved serial murder case, sadly at your expense. You could give me your cuff willingly… seal your magic, alter your memories, and walk away.”