Page 43 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)

Natan places his hand over the doorknob and it glows red, lighting up the dark stoop of the old cottage.

I look around nervously. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask for the third time.

As Kendrick promised, we waited until after dark to return to the cottage, but we brought Natan with us this time.

“He’ll be able to check the house for magic,” Kendrick said. I didn’t question the vague explanation. Natan seems to always

have a way to get more information, and I trust this time is no different.

Unlike earlier, the streets are quiet, but the Fairscape sentinels aren’t known for being understanding and I hate to think

what could happen to my friends if we’re caught.

“Come on in,” Natan says, nudging the door open with a smile.

We file into the small cottage, Kendrick staying close to me and Natan making quick work of casting a floating orb of light into the air.

I expect the room to be like it was when I was here before, but there’s nothing more than the table the witch stood behind when I brought back the book.

There’s no sign of the tattered library I remember stacked against the back wall, and there are no shelves or apothecary supplies littering the tabletop.

“She moved everything out,” I say, looking around slowly.

Natan scans the room, then slowly walks its perimeter, sprinkling something along the edge of the floor as he goes.

“That will help him see what kind of magic was used and created in this space,” Kendrick explains. “Anything more than common

magic will leave its mark behind.”

“So you’re saying that’s magical dust,” I say, cocking a brow. “But won’t the people looking for magic users notice this?”

“By the time they track it to this cottage, we’ll be long gone,” Natan says. He dumps the last of the dust and steps into

the middle of the room, standing near the table. Right when I’m about to ask what he’s looking for, slashes of colorful light

streak around the room.

“That’s from magic?” I ask, watching the light move. There’s a blue streak by the front door and red and yellow particles

seem to dance around each other where the apothecary shelves were.

“What does all this mean?” I ask, trailing the moving lights in awe.

“First, you can see that it’s Eloran magic,” Natan says.

“How do you know that?”

He shrugs. “Lots of experience, mostly. Eloran magic and Faerie magic leave different marks behind. But this”—he points to

a swirl of lavender and blue floating in the middle of the room—“this is the trail of Echo magic.”

“Echo magic? Like what Felicity does?”

“That’s right,” Natan says.

“Do you two see that?” Kendrick asks, nodding to a place on the wall where the light outlines what looks like a doorway.

“That wasn’t there a minute ago,” I say.

Kendrick narrows his eyes. “ That doesn’t look Eloran.”

Natan steps toward it and cocks his head to the side. “You’re right. I don’t remember there being a door here, do you?”

“There weren’t any doors. At least none we could see,” Kendrick says, stepping up to the outline and pressing on the wall.

The wall falls away, and a burst of light fills the room, blinding me to everything else.

When my vision returns, I can make out a small room behind the hidden door, and in the corner, a book sits, calling to me.

“The witch left it here,” I murmur, shocked.

“Is that what I think it is?” Kendrick asks.

I nod numbly. “That’s the Grimoricon.” It’s sitting in the corner in its true form, surrounded by magical wards so intense

I can feel the energy rolling off them.

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Natan asks.

“Oddly, I don’t.” I remember how it felt to have that book in my hands, remember how it called to me before I picked it up.

This time is no different. If anything, it’s stronger now—that rightness and sense of home. Maybe because of my connection

to Mab. Maybe because the book literally contains the keys to my salvation.

“Why would she leave it here?”

Giddiness bubbles in my chest. “She wouldn’t have. Not unless she didn’t have a choice. Not unless it refused to go with her.” Natan and Kendrick are both staring at me, waiting for an explanation. “It changes forms. When I brought it here, it fought like mad to avoid going to the witch.”

“It will take some time to pull down those wards,” Kendrick says. “Maybe you should go back to the house until—”

I shake my head. “Can you tell if those wards are set to keep us out or keep the book in?”

Kendrick extends a hand, then takes one of mine and stretches it forward. “You tell me. What do you feel?”

At first I don’t think I can feel one way or another, but I focus and realize there’s an energy that’s pulsing outward. “They’re

keeping us out, which means the book can come to us.”

Kendrick nods. “How are you going to—Jasalyn, what are you doing?”

I step into the room, getting as close to the wards as possible. Dropping to my knees, I click my tongue like I’m calling

to a cat.

“Be careful,” Natan says. “If you touch those wards, they could hurt you.”

I glance at him over my shoulder. “Hurt me how?”

“Depends on the magic. Some burn, some snap bones, some get into your head and plant horrific nightmares, some just throw

you across the room. None of the possibilities are a good time.”

I nod as if this makes perfect sense. “If we make it through this, I want you to teach me how to make wards like that.” I

tsk a few more times, then start humming under my breath. It’s an old song my mother used to sing to us at bedtime.

“We’ve gotten this far,” Kendrick says. “A few more hours to bring down the wards won’t—”

The book transforms into a long-haired gray cat who licks her paws.

Kendrick curses. “What just happened?”

“Come here, baby.” I extend a hand as close to the wards as I dare, cringing at the repulsive energy that tells everything

in me to back away. “Let’s take you home.”

The cat yowls, and her tail flicks like she’s swatting away flies.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I should never have given you to that mean witch. I promise it won’t happen again.”

This time her meow is more curious than angry, and she ambles toward me, hesitating before she reaches that wall of magic.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “You can come here. I just can’t go there.”

She leaps into my arms, and I barely react fast enough to catch her.

“Gods above and below,” Kendrick mutters. “You just sweet-talked a book into coming to you.”

I scratch the cat behind her ears as I stand. “She’s partial to Abriella and me—partly because of the enchantments Abriella

placed on her and partly because of our lineage.”

“Are we going to carry the cat when we ride back to Amelia’s?” Natan asks.

Suddenly my fingers are scratching at nothing, and the cat is gone. In my palm is a golden locket on a long chain.

Kendrick releases a puff of air. “Look at that. I think she wants you to wear her.”

I slip the locket over my head and back out of the tiny room.

Natan waves a hand and the colorful lights fall away. “We should get out of here before someone from the Seven’s legions comes to investigate the magic we just used.”

“But we still don’t know where to find the witch,” I protest, reaching for the locket for comfort. “If the witch was using

Echo magic, then what she looked like isn’t relevant at all. She could’ve been anyone.”

“Yes and no,” Kendrick says. “That is an exceptionally rare gift. There are maybe half a dozen living fae who possess it.”

He looks at Natan, who nods.

“I’ll have a list for you by morning,” he says.

“Wouldn’t the fae with this gift keep it a secret?”

“Generally speaking,” Natan says, “but I wouldn’t have a job if I wasn’t best at finding information that’s believed to be

secret.”

Kendrick squeezes my hand. “We’ll also head for the oracle first thing. She’ll be able to help us.”

I should school my expression, but I can’t find the energy and feel my face fall. “And while we’re there, you can ask about

your queen and your crown.”

Kendrick takes my chin in his hand and tilts my face up to his. “I will ask her how I can support Elora without betraying

my own heart.”

Natan clears his throat. “I’ll wait out front.”

I don’t bother watching him leave. I’m too busy soaking in the determination in Kendrick’s eyes. Exhaustion and relief run

tandem through my blood, sapping all the adrenaline away. I lean back against the wall, muscles limp.

He braces his hands on either side of my head and leans over me, dimples flashing as he studies my face, then the locket I keep twisting in my hand. “You did it. You got it back.”

I bite my bottom lip and press my hand to my chest, where hope bubbles like sparkling faerie wine, just as intoxicating. “I

feel good about this. I feel...” I squeeze my eyes shut but can’t hold back my smile. “I’m hopeful for the first time in

a long time.” When I open my eyes again, he’s staring at me, something like awe in his eyes. “What is it?”

“Your smile. I forgot how much it lights up the room. It could light up the whole damn world if you wanted it to.”

My cheeks heat and I bow my head. “You’re the one with the dimples people swoon over.”

His mouth twitches, like he’s trying to keep those dimples from showing and failing. “Anyone in particular doing that swooning?”

I roll my eyes. “Are you fishing for compliments when I just gave you one, Kendrick?” I smack his chest playfully and he grabs

my hand and holds it still against the steady beat of his heart.

He searches my face before letting his gaze fall to my lips. I tilt my face toward his, and he wastes no time lowering his

mouth to mine, the warmth of his lips melting my already loose muscles completely.

“That will never get old,” he says, smiling against my mouth before tugging me out of the cottage and into the cool night

air. With my hand in his, I realize, the dark doesn’t bother me much at all.