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“So we release him,” Lucas said, like it was simple. “We get answers, and he gets closure.”
“We don’t know how to release him,” Talia admitted. “The music box worked when I bought it at Hallowed Harmonica, but after it sucked him in, the box broke. It hasn’t worked since.”
“Can you get any visions from it? I asked.
“I’ve tried,” Talia said. “There was something strange about the visions. I heard screaming, but I also saw… happy memories. I thought I could clear the bad memories, but now I get nothing when I touch it.”
“What if we fix it?” Chloe asked. “Maybe it will release the ghost and we can talk to him. Or maybe your visions will restart.”
“Can I see it?” Grant held his hand out to Talia, and she handed him the music box. He looked deep in concentration as he inspected it. “I can try to fix it, but it’ll be tricky.”
“Hopefully we’ll find something,” I said.
“There’s something else,” Mandy added. “Look at the dates.”
I scanned the article, and my stomach dropped. “Adrik died the same year as my grandfather. So, the demon was here with him. My grandfather was murdered. That’s pretty damn traumatic. You think the demon marked him for death?”
“I think it’s worth considering a connection,” Mandy said.
Chloe looked uncertain. “But my grandfather confessed to the murder. He spent his life in jail. He was responsible, not a demon.”
“Perhaps he was working with the demon,” Mandy theorized. “We still don’t know who summoned him in the past. If this is the timeframe the ghostly warning talked about, maybe your grandpa’s the one who summoned him before.”
“How does this help us, though?” Chloe asked. “Nadine and I both researched our family curse. I’m not sure there’s anything else to learn about it.”
“Chloe’s right,” I said. “But something about this… it must be connected. We’re going to have to fix the music box before we figure it out. Good work, Mandy. This might actually give us some answers.”
Mandy smiled proudly and took a seat again.
Lucas turned to Professor Warren. “Have you learned anything more about how to break a demon contract?”
Professor Warren sat straighter in his chair. “I’m afraid the Miriamic Police Department confiscated most of Professor Daniels’s notes on her demonology research. The headmistress and I have dug up what we can, but there’s not much more to learn than what we already know. In order to break the contract and banish the demon, the priestesses would have to withdraw their consent. I think we all know that’s not going to happen unless something drastically changes—and quickly.”
The room went silent as we all considered this. Verla was the first to speak, though her tone was ominous. “I think we all know what needs to happen.”
My stomach sank, because I knew she was right, even if I didn’t want to do it.
“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t,” Lucas said, though he too seemed to be considering it.
“Do what, exactly?” Chloe asked.
Verla explained. “I believe with enough power and the right ingredients, we can artificially manufacture the Waning through a potion. If the priestesses lose their power, we’d gain the advantage. They won’t let a demon roam the coven if they’re left powerless.”
“That’s a fantastic idea!” Chloe exclaimed. “Why haven’t we done it yet?”
“Because it goes against what we stand for,” Lucas said. “This is the kind of thing I wrote about in The Shield. Taking away each other’s power leaves us all vulnerable. But…”
He looked over to me, and I already knew what he was going to say.
“But perhaps we have to bend our morals this one time, for the greater good,” I finished for him.
“Let’s think about this,” Mandy said carefully.
Professor Warren’s brow knitted deep in thought. “It may be our only option to breaking the demon contract.”
Everly nodded along. “Then we have to do it before something like The Hearse Tragedy happens again.”
Images from that night flashed through my mind. I saw the crimson color of blood seeping into the snow, along with the lifeless stares of the recently deceased. The image of flashing emergency lights in my mind morphed into flicker flames, taking me back to the night of the Burning. I could still hear the crackle of the fire and the shrill cry of Amy’s dying screams. My stomach twisted, because I knew if the priestesses had their way, it’d happen all over again. The priestesses would sanction far worse than the Burning or The Hearse Tragedy during their search for the Oaken Wands.
