Ruby gasped.

“Not long after Caradoc’s death, his son came to me. What he had to say was extraordinary. He said that his father had a theory that demons were infiltrating our coven. That there was a gate to their realm in his father’s old room, the room his son now occupied.” Varden paused. “His words were hard to believe, and yet… I had seen Caradoc’s body with my own eyes. When I assessed the room later, I could detect no demon presence, but Fyre was adamant. He showed me a map that his father had developed. One that showed the surrounding ravines where Caradoc believed other gates to exist. Fyre told me that the gates weren’t stationary. That they moved closer to the knolls as the demons’ power grew.”

“How did Caradoc locate the gates?” Opal asked.

“He’d come across a weapon that warmed when demons were near.”

Varden. You. Genius. “The dagger I held at the start of the battle,” I told her. “I don’t know when my uncle banished the blade to my grandmother for safekeeping, but she gave it to me shortly before she died.”

“If Rowaness and Hazeluna knew of this, why did they leave?” Winona was watching me closely.

“I don’t believe they did know of it. To them, this may just have been a blade.” I’d have to make sure no one ever touched it. The demon blade would burn them. Or I’d have to figure out Grandmother’s trick and attempt to coat the hilt in a charm.

Winona shifted her focus to Varden. “Why did Fyre not give the blade to you? You moved into the same room after his death.” She tilted her head. “You were attacked recently in the room. It was demons too.”

The mood in the room turned accusatory. Varden had known about the demons and never said a thing. We’d been attacked. In the eyes of Winona and the others, things could have ended much differently. The only reason Varden might survive this was because no one had died a week ago. I appreciated him taking the heat for this, even if I wished there was another alternative where I could admit my part.

“The blade burns most who touch it,” Huxley said. “Out of our group, only Corentines can touch it unscathed.”

Varden didn’t so much as flicker an eyelid before running with that. “I couldn’t wield it. If I was the next to die guarding that gate, we had to ensure the blade wouldn’t be lost.”

“If you had died, then no one would have known the gate was there,” Delta exploded.

I’d sensed it coming.

She pounded the stone table with a closed fist. “That was foolhardy to say the least, Varden. Why would you make light of such a threat?”

The old grimoire took in her anger. “What could I do with such information, Delta? Should I have told Fertim or Vero?”

“The council,” she snarled.

“The Fertim members of council or the Vero members of council?” he asked her next.

“Just the council.” Delta’s gaze sparked with her fury, and she wasn’t alone in it.

Varden lowered his voice. “You know as well as I that the council has not operated as a unified council in a long time. Not just us, but those before us, and those before them. The game had been allowed to permeate our decision-making. Would we, for instance, have halted the game to face the threat of the demons? Who would have decided the best approach? If Fertim had suggested an idea, Vero would have countered it, and vice versa. You know this as well as I. My decisions may not have been perfect—I am not arrogant enough as to believe that so—but I was sure of the coven’s inability to unite. I feared, as Caradoc and Fyre had before me, that revealing what I knew would secure the coven’s demise rather than their survival.”

Delta’s shoulders were taut to snapping point, but she didn’t say anything further.

Opal slid him a look. “That’s why you hated Caves all of a sudden.”

Ruby’s eyes were wide. She was getting a crash course on how much went on behind the scenes.

“Yes,” Varden replied. “Particularly after Fyre’s death, I couldn’t ignore the importance of that room. Or what may be within. With that admission came everything else. The demons were spreading through our midst. Yet I was incapacitated by the game and by my inability to find the gates too. Had they moved closer as the division in our coven worsened? When might they attack? Was any of this true? I hoped not.”

Wild glanced at him. “When I proposed the group project on supernaturals, you were particularly vocal in your approval.”

Varden dipped his head. “I saw the benefit of that, yes. And then Miss Tempest Corentine joined us, and with her, the blade returned. Though she did not understand its importance.”

That much was true.

“Why didn’t Fyre give the blade to Rooke?” Barrow interrupted.

“I cannot say for certain. His wife was dead, and I wonder if he wanted to protect Rooke. Or did Rowaness know the truth of the blade? Being safe outside of the coven, she could divulge everything to our high esteemed at the right time, whereas Fyre could not be sure how long he’d live to pass on the truth to his daughter. I only have theories.”

I blew out a breath. “If Grandmother knew anything, she didn’t get a chance to tell me. Not long after I joined the coven, Varden told me all.”

Winona’s eyes narrowed. “And yet he voted against you joining the coven.”