We are being Harrowed.
The words reverberated in my head as I drove back to Minneapolis. I tried to push them away. I tried to concentrate on the highway before me. I had the windows rolled all the way down, and I listened to the roar of the traffic, felt the wind whipping against my face. I cranked up the radio to drown out the echo of Esther’s voice. I didn’t want to think. If I thought too hard, I would see Shane standing over Sonja, her body being dragged Beneath. I would see Brooke cowering, tears streaming down her cheeks. I would hear myself promising to help her. I would hear We are being Harrowed.
Eventually, the blur of the highway became the quiet of neighborhood streets. A light rain had darkened the pavement, and all along the sidewalks, lawns glistened. I turned the corner and my house came into view. The windows were dark. Mom wasn’t home, and though Leon and I had plans to train again today, he had class until the afternoon. For a moment after I pulled into the driveway, I just sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel and gazing out toward the house. A strange lethargy had come over me. The radio blared in my ears, but I barely heard it.
I wondered what they had done with Brooke’s body.
I wondered what they had said to her mother.
Finally, I shut off the car, leaning my head against the steering wheel briefly before I stepped out. I shut the door harder than intended and jumped at the sound. I turned toward my house, letting out a low sigh. Warm sunlight touched my shoulders.
But a chill crawled up my spine.
My lethargy dissolved. I spun about.
It happened quickly. One moment, the Harrower appeared: half-human, the gleam of scales showing through his forearms and face as his pale eyes watched me. The next moment a hand reached out from behind him. Fingers curled around his throat, squeezing. Before he could even scream, there was the sound of a crack. He slid to the cement, limp and lifeless.
Behind him stood Iris.
We faced each other across the driveway, the demon’s broken body between us. The Beneath collected him almost immediately. There was a sucking noise as shadows curled around him. The sickening stench of rot filled the air. His body twitched once, all Harrower now, no trace of humanity remaining. A gurgle escaped his open mouth. Then he was gone.
I studied Iris warily. At first glance, I almost didn’t recognize her. Her long black hair had gone silver, and instead of falling to her hips in thick waves, it lay lank and brittle against her. Her clothing was in rags. The sweater she wore—it may have been blue once, but had since faded to a pale shade closer to gray—was riddled with holes. The hem of her skirt was frayed, trailing threads. Her lips were dry and cracked, and there were scabs up and down her bare legs, some open, oozing. The triple knot still hung from her throat, and on her left thumb she wore Patrick Tigue’s silver ring. In her sunken face, her eyes were once more St. Croix gold, not the blank white of the last time I’d seen her. She was smiling broadly.
I reached my hand into my pocket, touching my phone.
Iris saw the movement. “I’m not here to fight. No reinforcements necessary.” Her voice was hoarse, almost hissing. She kept her distance, lifting one hand and idly touching the triple knot. Her smile stayed wide, showing her teeth.
“So. Iris. Still crazy?” I gripped my phone, removing it from my pocket and holding it near me.
She tilted her head back slightly and laughed. An eerie, croaking sound that sent a shiver up me.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” I said. I fought the urge to retreat a step. “What is it you want?”
“To talk. We can do that, can’t we? Just a friendly little chat between cousins.”
“Our last one didn’t go so well,” I pointed out.
“I’ve learned a few things since then.”
“And forgotten about hygiene, apparently,” I said. I crossed my arms. “You’ve been sending demons after me. Not really the sort of gesture that says you want to kiss and make up.”
“You have your own personal bodyguard. I figured you’d survive. And, oh look, you did.”
“So, what happened? You decided the Beneath isn’t such a pleasant vacation spot?”
“Patrick saved me,” she whispered, her smile faltering and her eyes going vague.
“Yeah, you mentioned that before. And that was why the two of you went on your romantic yearlong murder spree. Next time you’re on the hunt for a boyfriend, maybe you should try one without scales.”
Her gaze sharpened. “Be careful with glass houses, Audrey. Yours is already showing cracks.”
Meaning my friendship with Gideon, I assumed. My own gaze narrowed. “Thanks to you.”
“We’re getting off track. What I meant was that Patrick saved me again.” She grazed a finger across the ring on her thumb, turning it slowly. “He wanted me to live. So I did. So I have.”
“And you just woke up one day and decided to come home?”
All trace of her smile vanished. “I was thinking I might like your mother dead.”
“Okay. We’re done here,” I said.
I unlocked my phone to call Leon, but Iris stopped me once more. “Wait.”
I shouldn’t have. I knew that. But I wanted to keep our conversation private as long as possible. “If you have a point, make it.”
She let out another short, croaking laugh. “You have a problem, Audrey.”
“I have a couple, and one of them is standing in front of me. Care to remove it?”
“Pay attention. This is important. It was you who began it. You have to be the one to end it.”
“If you want me to pay attention, try making sense,” I said.
“The Beneath, Audrey. Can’t you feel it?”
“Sorry. Unlike you, I’m not plugged in.”
“But you Know it,” she said. “You met it. I know you did. You must have sensed it when you were there. It must have spoken to you. It’s there, always, watching. You feel it in every Harrower who steps out into this world. Their corruption. The beast they carry. Patrick used to tell me about it. It tormented him. I tried to help, but he said he could feel it slipping through, whispering into his thoughts. But it was sleeping then. It was dormant. Whispering was all it could do.”
As she spoke, a memory stirred: the day we had fallen Beneath. I recalled a world made up of gray, the blank horizon, the colorless sand under my feet. For hours, I’d wandered aimless, alone. But not alone. Everywhere, the nothingness had seemed to breathe. Slowly, awareness had crept over me. I had sensed something there in the void, something cold and ancient that dwelled within the endless empty. Some presence slinking nearer, closing in, hungry, hating. With each step I took, I had felt its anger, its eager gaze. It had Known me. Known my blood. And it had spoken to me. It had told me—
You are going to die here.
The words resounded. Another voice echoed, a taunt that rang loud in my ears. It became a chant, repeating again and again. You are going to die, Kin-child.
My heart picked up speed. I stared at Iris. “What is it you’re trying to say?”
“We didn’t just wake Verrick that night on Harlow Tower. We woke the Beneath.”
The universe came to a sudden stop. For an instant, I didn’t breathe. Distantly, I was aware of the sun glaring down hot against my face, and the sweat beading on my forehead; I was aware of the staccato chug of a sprinkler system nearby, and the groan of an engine from down the block. But the details were mere information. They didn’t connect. I was back in Sonja’s house, feeling again that icy sense of dread that swept over me. I shivered beneath my sweat. I saw the smashed shards of the teacup, thin porcelain slivers painted lilac. In the corner: Sonja’s crumpled body, the twist of her neck. I saw Shane’s torn shirt, his unkempt hair. The bloody footprints and his bare feet. His blank, dead eyes as he looked at me. How he had smiled, showing red teeth.