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“Coming from someone who spent her entire life locked up in a mansion, yes, you totally can.”

“Alright, but it isn’t normal. Is there anyone there?”

“No, that’s the even weirder thing. I’m going to check the next floor.”

I was about to phase my way down when I spotted it; a small burst of sparks coming up through the floor at the end of the corridor I was in. Magic! Someone must be casting down there. I moved to get closer to the sparks, concentrated again and made myself fall between floors… only to land in a room full of people.

I was standing at an altar, behind a golden pulpit, staring at about three dozen darkened shapes who were all kneeling before me. I backed up in sudden panic, staggered a few paces, and went straight through the man who was standing at the pulpit, occupying the same space I had been occupying a moment ago.

I backed up another step. None of the Recondites had reacted to my sudden drop in so I watched for a moment, realizing that I could hear nothing that was being said. I also couldn’t hear Lucien. The connection I’d had to him a moment ago had been severed—how, I didn’t know. That didn’t seem to matter right now, though. Right now, I needed to get out—I had definitely overstayed my welcome.

And I was about to, but then I felt it.

A dark wave of demonic power crashed against me like a cold wave. I turned quickly to locate the source; a small, ornate, wooden box. Whilst most of the objects I had seen so far in the Ether were impressions, reflections—shifting, dancing, and changing—this box was in complete focus. The outside looked like it had been mauled by a bear, and it was covered in black chains that undulated, and moved around like a snake.

I felt whispers wrap themselves around me and draw me closer to the box. It took every ounce of strength I had in me to fight that power and break free, literally ripping myself away from the box and staggering in the other direction, going through the figure standing at the pulpit once more.

Only this time, I was sure he looked at me.

Directly at me.

I shut my eyes and shook my head, like I was trying to wake myself up from a bad dream. An instant later, I felt lips press against mine, and when I opened my eyes, Lucien was there. I broke, then, and began to shake like a fig leaf, tears stinging my eyes, my chest entirely unable to expand so that I could take a solid breath.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Only it wasn’t okay.

It absolutely wasn’t.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Whatever the thing in that box was, I didn’t want to be anywhere near it. Not again. Not only had I been shaken to my core, but I felt dirty, filthy, like I was covered in grime I couldn’t get off no matter how hard I scrubbed, or how hot the water was.

It was hours before the feeling finally began to dissipate, hours before I snapped out of the dissociative state I had fallen in to. During that time, Lucien had taken over surveillance duties. He had also kept a respectful distance.

“What’s in the box, really?” I finally asked, breaking the silence we had existed in for the past few hours.

Lucien, who had been sitting at the desk, going through pictures on the laptop, stopped what he was doing and straightened up. He turned his head to the side. “A crown,” he said.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Is there a demon in that box?”

“I’m… not totally sure.” He paused. “What did you see?”

I shook my head. “I would rather forget what I saw, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. It wasn’t just what I saw, but how it made me feel.”

He turned around fully, now, standing up and tucking the chair in. He stood at the edge of the bed, his hands in his pockets, leaning slightly on the desk. “What was it?”

“It was a scratched-up box covered in chains that wrapped around it like snakes.”

“You didn’t see the crown itself?”

“I couldn’t see through the box, but the whole thing looked like it was alive, and it pulled me to it.”