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“And you’re… the first witch? The first one to marry a demon?”

Another nod.

“Then the spell is yours?” I ask, repeating the phrase.

Instead of nodding or shaking her head, she gestures toward the Veil. When she does, the light within stutters, rippling with some unseen power. After a moment, the shimmering white bleeds into a rich, dark crimson and then morphs again to emerald before repeating the sequence of colors in rapid succession. When they settle, they’ve landed on rose pink.

The magick pulsing from within skitters along my skin, leaving a wave of goosebumps in its wake. Unstable magick, broken magick.

“Yes,” I whisper. “The spell is failing. I need to know how to fix it.”

The shade’s mouth doesn’t open, but the words echo through the air again. “A sacred vow and a lover’s kiss. An iron-clad deal with a demon prince. An end to strife and pain. An era of peace will reign.”

“How?”

The shade drifts toward me. When she’s an arm-length away, I can almost make out her features, even with as hazy and undefined as they are. There seems to be sympathy in her expression, or maybe pity, and when she reaches a hand forward I swear I can almost feel her touch.

“Soul magick,” she breathes.

The bottom drops out of my stomach. Part of me had been expecting it—after all, it’s what my mother theorized, isn’t it?—but the words send a shot of fear through me.

Soul magick.

No rituals, no ingredients, no potions or candles or any other trappings of small magick, nothing but the pure power a witch possesses, the very heart of her, and the mercy of the Goddess to accept or reject it.

How could I have thought it would be anything different?

I nod, and the shade withdraws her hand. She hovers there for a moment more before starting to fade away.

“Wait!” I say, desperation rising. “Is there anything else you can tell me? What do I… how do I…”

She pauses, considers. Those hollow, light-filled eyes seem to take my measure.

“Step into the Veil,” she says. “Do it on the full moon and bring your demon. Let the rest come naturally.”

Then she’s gone.

I’m left alone in the darkness, and the Veil fades to pearly white once more.

How do I get out of here?

Taking a few steps away from the Veil and toward the boundary of the forest, I’m repelled immediately by the wrongness seeping from the woods where they fade into an inky black void. I consider the Veil, what stepping through it might mean or where it might bring me, but that also feels wrong. This entire cursed place feels wrong. Liminal and other, it feels like something that shouldn’t exist.

Eren, I whisper in my mind.Bring me back to you.

There’s something just at the border of my conscious mind, the tattered edge of a thread I can’t quite grasp. Even pointing every bit of my magick toward it, it eludes me.

Eren,I think again.Eren.

There.

It’s the smallest piece, barely enough to wrap a tendril of magick around, but when I find it I throw my entire being toward it and hope it’s enough to pull me out.

With a jolt, the illusion breaks.

I’m back in the workroom, half-sprawled on Eren, both of us collapsed on the floor. He doesn’t realize I’m out right away, and I can feel him shaking, feel his soothing hand over my hair, hear his desperate pleas.

“Allie,” he whispers. “Allie, come back to me.”