Paul lowered a now-whimpering Selene back to the ground, breaking the spell. Beside her, Eli looked fit to kill.

I stared at Paul, the truth clawing at my insides. “You’re the F from Rosemary’s diary, aren’t you? It was never Culpepper.”

He nodded. “Paul Foster Kirkwood. I’ve no idea why Rose fixated on my middle name, but it did its job in hiding my identity.”

“How could you?”

He flinched before his expression hardened. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be so powerless. To be hated by your own family. Your own mother.”

“But you killed them. Rosemary and Mr. Ankil.”

“I didn’t … kill … only … helped.”

“Why?” I choked on the emotions raging through me at his betrayal. He’d used me as he had Rosemary. None of the things we’d shared had been real.

“Leave him be,” Marrow said. “Paul did what he had to do to be free.”

I glowered at Marrow. “Free from what?”

“It was only The Will preventing him from using magic. But the spell, at least as you knew it, is no more, due in no small amount to Paul. This sword has the ability to absorb magic and to hold it like a reservoir, making it possible for The Will to work on magickind. But the spell wasn’t intended for them. I created it as a weapon against the ordinaries who persecuted us. A thousand years ago magickind were far fewer in number and most of us lived in isolation, easily overpowered by the sheer number of ordinaries. The spell gave me control over the mind and will of mankind, forcing them into submission where they belonged. Where they would be now if the Magi had never stolen the sword and spell from me.”

I gaped at his lunacy. It was like listening to the magical reincarnation of Hitler. “What does this have to do with Paul?”

Marrow pointed the sword downward, resting the tip of the blade on the floor. “The only reason Paul couldn’t do magic is because the Magi and their Will-Workers manipulated my spell to prevent halfkinds from using their powers at all. Most of them, anyway.”

I scoffed. “Why would they do that?”

Marrow straightened up to his full height. He seemed so much taller and imposing now. “Because they feared halfkinds above all others. I am halfkind, the first one ever born. Half-wizard and half-demon but more powerful than either. That’s the way it works, usually. The Magi don’t approve of anyone more powerful than they are, so they enforced sterility through the spell as a way to stop the kinds from interbreeding. Not anymore though. Now I control The Will. And you’ve helped set so many free, Dusty. You should be proud.”

I wasn’t. Choked by guilt, I understood the full weight of what I’d done. All that magic no longer in check. But I hadn’t done it on purpose. I didn’t know what I was doing.

You didn’t think, that nasty voice whispered in my head. You never stop to think.

Marrow’s gaze shifted from me to the tomb, and I turned to see that Bethany Grey had returned from the dream. For a moment my heart leaped, convinced that here was the answer to getting out of this. Together we might be able to overcome the Red Warlock.

She smiled at Marrow, her face shining in triumph.

“Well done, Bethany,” he said.

“But…,” I stammered. “You’re working for him?”

Bethany’s grin widened.

“Then my mother…”

“Was trying to destroy the sword before I could get to it,” Bethany said, stepping down.

“But your finger…”

“Cut it off myself. Self-maiming is the only way to survive the breaking of a Keeper spell, don’t you know.”

I shivered, but my disgust at her actions quickly turned to anger. “You tricked me.”

“No,” said Marrow, clucking his tongue. “You tricked yourself. Paul told me how easily you suspected your mother once I told you the truth about your kind. And of course, my encouragement of her only helped. She’s also been doing her own search to find me, but her actions only made her look more suspicious. Still, she almost succeeded in getting the sword first. She might have if she had shared what she found out. But she didn’t. I suppose you can blame it on her distrust of everyone. Even you.”

I shook my head, wanting to deny it.

Marrow looked at Bethany. “Where is Moira now?”

“Dead,” Bethany replied.

A terrible pressure seized my lungs, and I swayed on my feet, unable to breathe. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. Then I realized my mother was no longer sitting upright in the dream-feeding position, but had slumped forward, lying as still as someone … someone … dead.

An anguished cry escaped my throat, the sound a pale, pitiful reflection of the despair raging inside me. “You killed her. You killed her! I’ll kill you.” I bounded toward Bethany.

Marrow’s dazing spell struck me in the back, and I fell forward, hitting the ground. I lay there for a moment, my body seized with pain. I’d never been hit so hard before, never felt magic so powerful. Was this how all spells would be now that Marrow controlled The Will?

When the pain eased, I rolled over and saw Bethany standing over me, holding out her uninjured hand. “There’s no reason to be so upset. You’re better off without her.”

How many times had I told myself that very thing, when I was younger, resenting her absence in my life? Hundreds. But it wasn’t true. It never had been. I shook my head as I sat up and curled into a ball, arms wrapped around my knees. Guilt at my betrayal scorched like acid poured over my heart.