I go into Mary’s bedroom, fall to my knees, and unzip my bag. With trembling hands I set out the candles and start lighting them with my Zippo so I can see. And then I open one of the spell books and try to figure out what the f**k to do.
Then the moonlight disappears and an icy wind blows through the room. The candles flicker out, and I feel so, so, so cold, colder than the coldest winter day. I relight my Zippo to start over and I nearly scream when the glow falls on Mary, sitting on her windowsill, staring down at me with accusing eyes.
“If at first you don’t succeed . . . quit and try something else?” she says.
My mouth drops open. The wick of the candle sends up twirls of gray smoke. I squeeze my hand tight around my lighter.
“You almost had me. I’ll give you an A for effort.”
I fall to the floor and frantically flip through the book.
Mary makes a movement with her arm, and the spell book flies across the room, away from me. And then she holds up Lillia’s necklace. “Too bad Lillia didn’t keep up her end of the bargain.”
I quickly bring out the lighter and rub my thumb over the metal wheel a couple times. Finally the flint sparks into a flame. As soon as it does, I go flying backward and slam into the wall with the force of a truck. Then gravity pulls me down into a crumpled heap on the hardwood floor.
Mary hops down from the windowsill, and she lands on the floor in her bare feet. I slowly lift my head as much as I can, but my entire body is wrecked and throbbing. My lighter has slid across the floor and is now near where I have the spell book open. I crawl on my belly toward it, squinting my eyes to try to push away the pain. When I’m close, I reach my arm out as long as I can and try to grab it. My fingertips just graze the lighter. But as soon as I make contact, Mary raises her arm and lifts me right up off the floor again.
“Stop doing that! Why aren’t you listening to me?” She flings me against the wall another time. I can hear the plaster crack, or maybe it’s my bones.
I cough and gasp for breath, the wind entirely knocked out of me. When I open my eyes, the whole room is a watery blur. I grit my teeth and try to get to my knees. I can’t see where Mary is, but I plead with her anyway. “This isn’t you, Mary. You’re not like this.” Finally my vision sharpens and the spell book and my bag come back into focus across the room. I crawl toward it, gasping for breath. “Let us help you.”
Mary steps between me and the candles. “Lillia is still in love with Reeve. He’s all she cares about. That’s why the spell was broken, that’s why she’s on a ferry with him right now, saving him and leaving you to die right here, right now.” She spins around and lifts her arm. The rest of my stuff falls out of the bag. The salt and the lavender fly around the room, the candles roll in opposite directions. I keep crawling, but then I feel myself being lifted up again.
And then everything goes black.
Chapter Sixty-Six
LILLIA
I JUMP OUT OF THE truck and run out the exit to the next level so I can make sure Mary’s gone. She is. Where did she go?
We’re going to pull away from the dock soon. I have to get off this boat. I can’t leave Kat to deal with Mary by herself.
Reeve comes up behind me. He’s shaking his head, dazed. “I can’t believe it.”
“Let’s go up to the deck so we can talk,” I say.
We walk up to the deck, and people are staring at us in our formalwear. I say, “Go inside and get us some seats. I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Reeve nods, still looking like a scared kid. This might be the last time I see him. So I get on my tippy-toes and hug him tight. His face breaks into a relieved smile.
“That stuff you said to Alex. You didn’t mean it, right?”
“Mary. She told me to stay away from you.”
“But how did—”
“I’ll explain everything in one minute. Promise.”
He nods and goes inside, and I take off in the other direction. I push open the exit and fly down the stairs to the lowest level. I run down the length of the ferry, pushing people out of the way. It’s too late. We’re already pulling away.
I stand at the guardrail. We’ve barely left shore. I could make it. I could jump. It’s not so high up from here. I start taking off my shoes before I can stop to really think about it.
I pull myself up to the railing, and my heart is pounding out of my chest. I’m so scared. I’m so scared. And then I hold my nose, and jump.
It feels like I’m falling forever before I hit the water. It smacks into me so hard it knocks the wind out of me. The water is freezing, and I swallow gallons of it, up my nose, down my throat. Water all around me. I forget everything I learned about swimming, and I’m just panicking, because this feels like drowning. I’m drowning. My dress is like a funeral shroud, weighing me down, making every movement that much harder.
And then I’m fighting my way to the surface, and it just kicks in. The fight to live. I’m swimming. My body knows how.
I swim all the way to the dock. My arms burn, my throat burns, everything burns. I swim until I have nothing left. Two ferry workers spot me and fish me out of the water. “What the hell were you thinking?” one screams at me.
My whole body is shaking from cold and exhaustion. They go to get me a blanket, and I take off before they come back. I’m running out of the ferry parking lot, up the hill to Mary’s house. My feet are bare and my dress is soaking wet and clinging to my body, but I don’t care.
Hurry, hurry, hurry. Before it’s too late.
My throat burns; my chest burns; every muscle in my body burns. But I have to keep going. I have to.
I don’t stop running. I run up her driveway and to the front door. As soon I open the door, I hear Kat and Mary yelling, and then there’s a thud, and it goes quiet. “Kat!” I scream. I take the stairs two at a time, tripping over my dress.
When I get upstairs, I push at Mary’s bedroom door, but it won’t open. “Kat!” I scream. I bang on the door as hard as I can. “Mary! Let me in!”
I’m screaming myself hoarse when I hear footsteps pounding up the stairs. I turn around, and there is Reeve, wild-eyed and out of breath. I gasp. “What are you doing here?”
“I got them to turn the boat around—”
“Kat’s inside,” I croak.
“Move,” he tells me, and then he throws himself against the door just as it opens.
Kat’s in a heap on the floor, cradling her arm, and Mary’s standing over her. Looking at us. At Reeve. “You’re here,” she says.