What killed them???

We’ve been thinking about it all weekend.

I think potentially Andie was hoping we wouldn’t immediately tell Bass and Rook what we’d discovered, what with — you know — all the death that followed Bird and his circle’s discoveries, but what was I gonna do, not tell them? Please. The moment they saw us the next morning they knew something was up. We explained what Andie discovered the moment we got away from Marina.

And then, obviously, we went back to the basement of the library to take another look at their notes.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Andie hissed as we crept down the stairs, past the archives, and down into the torch-lit basement.

Bass laughed disbelievingly. “If they managed to open a rift, they’re the only people to ever be able to do it,” he said. “If I don’t at least look at their notes my coven will kick my ass.”

“But Professor Sorely wants it to be a secret,” Andie whined as we stalked through the maze of old furniture and random junk to find their nook.

“So we won’t tell anyone,” Rook said with a quick, crooked smile that made me want to throw up in a good way.

We spent all weekend down there, surrounded by their notes. We did our homework down there. Hell, I fuckin ate down there, I don’t want to leave that nook at all, period. I’m down here right now, looking up at huge charcoal drafts of sigils on newsprint, or rows of runes, scratched in various rows, or even — maybe even especially — polariods of the five of them goofing off.

I think Andie is able to unravel their spellwork. I think they’re trying to keep it from the rest of us, but I can see their eyes moving over the pages on their walls, keep catching them staring up at the walls, eyes flicking back and forth, lip between their teeth, brow furrowed. Calculating. I don’t think they can help themselves.

I don’t know much about alchemy, but I know Andie loves it. Loves it might not even be the right descriptor. Is obsessed with it. Can’t resist it. I can see the hunger in their expression when their eyes rove over the work on the walls. But they won’t talk about it, and I’m not pushing them. I’m scared that if I pressure them to share their knowledge, they’ll remember that just being down here is firmly against the rules and stop putting the pieces together in their head.

If they succeeded, than the spell work they did is down here somewhere. We just have to untangle it.

I just keep staring at those big painted words. They run over the backs of my eyelids when I close my eyes.

life death from within from without life death from within from without life death from within from without life death from within from without life death from within from without life death from within from without life death from within from without

(what if I could get Cara back)