Page 116 of The Seven Miracles of Beatrix Holland
Cordelia said, “Minna. You have to listen to me.”
“No.”
“Minna—”
“Hetalkedto me. Iheardhim.” The girl’s head whipped up, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. Her fingers stopped dragging in the dirt, blood blooming along her knuckles and at her fingernails.
“Honey, he’s not who you think he is.”
“I just need him to tell me the rest of the sigil. Mama, I’m so close. I had a little of it, and I used Aunt Bea’s spell to get this next part of it from him, but then he left—becauseyoucame.”
“I have to tell you something—”
Minna shrieked, “STOP IT.I just need to do the spell one more time to get the rest of the sigil. I know that’s all I need.” Tears filled her eyes. “Please go. Please let me finish this. He won’t come to me if you’re here, I know he won’t.”
Astrid’s whisper increased in volume, becoming a mutter. Reno was bent in half, her breath coming in harsh gasps.
But Cordelia’s voice stayed calm. “He’ll hurt you, sugar. He—”
A silent explosion—that’s all Beatrice could think that it was—ripped through the air in awhoomp, a clap of noiseless pressure.
A voice that was more boom than actual sound filled the space around them. “MINNA, RUN.”
Minna leaped to standing, gave one terrified look at her mother, and bolted, deerlike, leaping over grassy hummocks and headstones.
Beatrice was frozen.
Completely.
She tried to run, but some force locked her legs in place. She tried to shout but the yell struck in her throat. She couldn’t even blink, couldn’t control her eyelids. What thehellwas going on? Her flesh was solid and unmoving, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move a muscle.
Her heart crashed inside her chest, so she obviously wasn’t dead, but she couldn’t even move her gaze—it remained stuck in the direction of Minna’s running form. Minna got smaller and smaller, then she darted left and was lost in the dark. In herperipheral vision, Beatrice could see Cordelia’s hand still raised, unmoving, reaching toward her now-gone daughter. She was frozen, too.
The cemetery was soundless. The trees had stopped rustling in the wind, and Astrid’s mutterings had fallen to silence. Reno’s gasping breaths had ceased.
Fear rose through Beatrice’s body in a great red tide, cresting and breaking, sucking out, and rushing back in, as her body remained entirely fixed in place.
Help.
She couldn’t even whisper it.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I’d love to tell you that you can’t make a mistake when it comes to practicing your craft. But you can. Be careful. I’d hate to lose any of you.
—Evie Oxby, Bluesky
The clap of pressure resounded again, a cold, hard punch to the gut.
Beatrice’s legs collapsed under her as she fell to the ground.
Reno, too, had dropped, but Astrid and Cordelia remained upright, swaying and gasping.
Beatrice sucked in a huge breath and hauled herself back up to standing. “Whatwasthat?”
“That was Taurus.” Astrid’s voice was acid.
“We have to go after her!”
