Michelle refilled her wineglass. “I can’t say I was surprised to get the call.”
“No?”
“I feel like I spent most of Darlington’s freshman year making sure he didn’t kill himself or set something on fire. Wherever he is, he’s probably thrilled things finally got exciting around here.”
Sandow chuckled. “I’ll wager.”
Alex felt a stab of irritation. She didn’t like Sandow and Michelle sharing a smile over Darlington. He deserved better.
“He’s a sensation seeker?” asked Amelia, sounding a little thrilled herself.
“Not exactly,” said Michelle. “He’s just always ready to jump in. He fancied himself a knight, a boy standing at the door to the underworld with a sword in his hand.”
Alex had scoffed whenever Darlington described himself or Lethe that way. But it didn’t feel silly now, not when she thought of Tara, of drugs like Merity, boys like Blake. The Houses of the Veil had too much power, and the rules they had put in place were really about controlling access to that power, not limiting the damage it could do.
“Isn’t that kind of what we are?” Alex said before she could stop herself. “We are the shepherds and all that?”
Michelle laughed again. “Don’t tell me he got to you too?” She looped her arm through Sandow’s as they strolled out of the kitchen, followed by Zelinski and Amelia. “I wish I’d been able to come earlier and see this place in the daylight. He did so much work to it.”
Dawes’s hand brushed against Alex’s, startling her. It was a little thing, but Alex let her knuckles do the same. Darlington had been right about the need for Lethe, about why they were here. They weren’t just mall cops keeping a bunch of unruly kids in line. They were supposed to be detectives, soldiers. Michelle and Sandow didn’t get it.
Do I? Alex wondered. How had she gone from barely getting by to holy warrior? And what was going to happen when they pulled Darlington back to their world from wherever he’d been cooling his heels?
Maybe her work on the Tara Hutchins case would be a mark in her favor, but she very much doubted he was just going to say, Way to take the initiative; all is forgiven. She would tell him she was sorry, that she hadn’t known what Hellie intended that morning at Ground Zero. She would tell him whatever she had to and hold on to this life with both hands.
“Where do we think he is?” Michelle was asking as they took the stairs up to the second floor.
“We don’t know. I thought we’d use a hound-dog casting.” Sandow sounded almost pleased with himself. Alex sometimes forgot that the dean had actually been in Lethe, and had been pretty good at it too.
“Very nice! What are we using for his scent?”
“The deed to Black Elm.”
“Was it bound by Aurelian?”
“Not that I know of,” said Amelia. “But we can activate the language to summon the signatories.”
“From anywhere?” asked Michelle.
“From anywhere,” Zelinski said smugly.
They went through a long description of the mechanics of the contract and how the summoning should work so long as the commitment to the contract was made in good faith and the parties had some emotional connection to the agreement.
Alex and Dawes exchanged a glance. That much at least they could be sure of: Darlington loved Black Elm.
The second-floor ballroom had been lit with lanterns at the four compass points. Darlington’s exercise mats and gear had been set off to the side.
“This is a good space,” said Zelinski, unzipping his backpack. He and Amelia drew out four objects wrapped in cotton batting.
“We don’t need someone to open a portal?” Alex whispered to Dawes, watching Josh unwrap the cotton to reveal a large silver bell.
“If Sandow is right and Darlington is just stuck between worlds or in some kind of pocket space, then the activation of the deed should create enough pull to bring him through to us.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“Then we’ll have to get Scroll and Key involved at the next new moon.”
But what if the Locksmiths had been the ones to create the portal in the basement that night? What if they wanted Darlington to stay gone?
“Alex,” called Sandow, “please come help me make the marks.” Alex felt strange warding the circle, as if she’d somehow fallen backward through time and become Sandow’s Dante.
“We’ll leave the northern gate open,” he said. “True north to guide him home. I’ll need you to be on the lookout for Grays on your own. I would take Hiram’s elixir but…. I’m at an age when the risk is just too high.” He sounded embarrassed.
“I can handle it,” said Alex. “Is there blood involved?” She at least wanted to be ready if a flood of Grays came on.
“No,” said Sandow. “No blood. And Darlington planted the Black Elm borders with protective species. But you know strong desire can draw Grays, and strong desire is what we need to bring him back.”
Alex nodded and took her position at the northern compass point. Sandow took the southern point; Dawes and Michelle Alameddine faced each other at east and west. With only the candlelight to give shape to the space, the ballroom felt even more vast. It was a big, cold room, built to impress people long since gone.
Amelia and Josh stood at the center of the circle with a sheaf of papers—the deed to Black Elm—but they would have nothing to do unless Sandow’s casting worked.
“Are we ready?” he asked. When no one answered, Sandow forged ahead, murmuring first in English, then in Spanish, then in a whispery language that Alex recognized as Dutch. Was that Portuguese next? Mandarin followed. She realized he was speaking the languages that Darlington knew.
She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if she really did hear the patter of paws, panting. A hound-dog casting. She thought of the hounds of Lethe, the surprisingly beautiful jackals Darlington had set on her that first day at Il Bastone. I forgive you, she thought. Just come home.
She heard a sudden howl and then the very distant sound of barking.
The candles flared, their flames gone vibrant green.
“We’ve found him!” cried Sandow in a trembling voice. He sounded almost frightened. “Activate the deed!”
Amelia touched a candle to the papers lying at the center of the circle. Green light kindled and rose around the piles. She tossed something into the flame and it ignited in bright sparks like a firework.
Iron, Alex realized. She’d seen an experiment just like that in a science class once.
Words seemed to hover in the green flame over the document as the iron filings sparked.
WITNESSETH
THAT THE
SAID GRANTOR
FOR GOOD AND VALUABLE
CONSIDERATION
FOR GOOD
FOR GOOD
The words curled in on themselves, rising in the fire and vanishing like smoke.
The candle flames shot even higher, then sputtered. The fire covering the deed banked abruptly. They were left in darkness.
And then Black Elm came alive. All at once, the sconces on the walls flared to brightness, music blared from the speakers in the corner, and the halls echoed with the sound of a late-night newscast as somewhere in the house a television came on.
“Who the hell left all the lights on?” said an old man standing outside the circle. He was frighteningly thin, his hair a wisp on his head, his bathrobe hanging open to reveal an emaciated chest and shriveled genitals. A cigarette hung from his mouth.