Page 103 of Reckless Witch

I blink snow off my eyelashes. “I thought we were partners in this investigation.”

I start to ask what evidence he’s found that leads him to believe Miriam was trying to reach Hell, but he says, “We cannot have Miriam Crowe’s magic falling into the wrong hands.”

I rein in my frustration. “Zadkeil, you’re worried over nothing. She left no trace of her magic.”

“Other than The Shadows she used,” he hisses.

He’s angry, but there’s another note in his voice I can’t quite identify. “What does your god have to say about Miriam supposedly entering Hell?” I demand.

Zedkeil’s eyes narrow. “If He wants you to know what He is thinking, He will speak to you. For now, we need to find the spell Miriam Crowe used.”

“The spell she was using when she blew a hole into Hell,” I murmur. That small crater did almost look as if someone had drilled downward. I pin the angel with a stare. “Why doesn’t Elohim look into Hell and tell us if she’s there?” I’m not the first person to ask this question. Interestingly enough, the god of the angels has remained oddly silent on that point. “That’s right.” I snap my fingers. “Even He can’t get past the magic that sealed the Hell Gates all those centuries ago. Are you certain Senorn and Eledin weren’t goddesses themselves to have used magic so powerful that even Elohim can’t penetrate the spell?” Never mind that Senorn was a black witch. That’ll get Zedkeil’s blood pumping.

Sure enough, a righteous flame bright enough to blind a human ignites in the angel’s eyes. “How dare you speak blasphemy. Our Lord would never enter the seat of evil.”

“Even to ensure the safety of his own creation?” I counter with more heat than intended. “Maybe if he spent a little time there, he might think twice about sending to Hell anyone who doesn’t agree with him.”

Zedkeil sucks in a loud breath and his eyes go wide.

I stare. “Bloody…fucking…hell,” I breathe.

This isn’t a reconnaissance mission. This is a rescue mission.

I hold his gaze. “Elohim is locked in Hell.”

Chapter Forty-Three

LEILAH

The truth shall set you free

I have to find out what’s in Grams’ spell book. Stony is behind me a hundred per cent this time, and sits with her butt against my dorm room door. I’ve also locked the door. Why I didn’t think to do that the first time is beyond me.

“Stupid is as stupid does,” said Forest Gump. He must have been thinking of me and my time at The Academy.

A dream-like quality clouds my brain. Not surprising. No one wants to acknowledge what might be the worse truth they ever have to face.

Once again, I stand over the spell book, positioned on my desk and open to the first two pages. I grip the wand in my left hand, my cell phone in the right.

I look at Stony. “Ready?”

She snorts affirmation.

“Here goes nothing.” I tap the camera on the phone and hold it steady over the book, my thumb hovering over the button. I point the wand at the first page of the book and chant in a whisper:

Words on this one page only

For the barest of three heartbeats

Decipher me your riddles

A breeze flows across the page. The words shimmer, then slowly bleed into focus. I jam my thumb down on the camera button. The words fade and, once again, the foreign letters fill the page.

I set the wand and phone on the desk, then grab the book and stuff it beneath the blankets on the bed where Stony likes to sleeps. She won’t let anyone get near her bed.

I lower myself onto the chair. Stony’s hooves click across the floor. She reaches the bed, jumps up and drops onto the blanket and book. She watches me, her black eyes intense. We haven’t talked about it, but we both know that just looking at the words of a powerful witch’s spell has a power of its own.

I draw in a deep breath. Exhale. Then tap the image. The picture fills the screen.