In LaLa’s flat, Jacks had just happened to be reading the same spell book that Marisol owned, revealing that Marisol could be a witch. Jacks had then taken Evangeline to Chaos’s underground kingdom, where Chaos made it sound as if a witch had poisoned Apollo. Then Luc had confirmed that Marisol was a witch.
Evangeline had almost been convinced of Marisol’s guilt after that. But it wasn’t until she’d seen the scandal sheet that Jacks had been clutching—the one with Marisol’s wedding announcement—that she’d been certain her stepsister was a killer.
Maybe it was a handful of coincidences, but Marisol made the perfect scapegoat. If Tiberius hadn’t confessed, and instead it had been revealed that Marisol put a love spell on Tiberius, everyone would have been happy to believe that she’d also killed Apollo.
But suddenly Evangeline wasn’t even sure that Marisol had been the one to put a spell on Tiberius. Jacks could have willed it to frame her.
Was anything as she’d originally thought, or was everything Jacks had done just to make the prophecy come true? But if Jacks had done all of this, why had he left Apollo alive?
Havelock cleared his throat, and Phaedra gave Evangeline a curious look, both no doubt wondering why she was staring at Apollo’s unblinking brown eyes. But Evangeline couldn’t look away. She felt too close to figuring everything out.
Phaedra had said Apollo could stay this way for centuries, not aging, not moving, not quite alive but not really dead. Just like Evangeline had been when she’d been turned to stone.
Her stomach dropped.
And in that moment, she knew.
Jacks would know that Evangeline could never leave Apollo in this state. This was why Jacks had left him alive—Apollo was Jacks’s bargaining chip. If Jacks had done this to Apollo, then he could undo it. And Evangeline knew exactly what Jacks would want in exchange for his help. Jacks wanted her willing blood to open the Valory Arch, and she would have bet anything this was how he planned to get it.
He’d poisoned Apollo to manipulate her.
Evangeline didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry.
She knew what Jacks was. She hadn’t been foolish enough to believe that she was different or special and that he wouldn’t destroy her. But maybe she’d believed it a little. She’d clearly believed it enough to spend a night with him inside a crypt. And just an hour ago, she’d been terrified at the thought that Jacks had been trapped in an enchanted sleep. She’d been ready to race to his rescue because she’d also been silly enough to think that something had changed between them that night in the crypt. When he’d told her the story of Donatella, she’d thought she’d understood him. She’d thought he was opening up, that he was just a little human. But she should have listened when he’d told her that he was a Fate and she was nothing but a tool to him.
Jacks no doubt knew that she’d want to save Apollo. But he was deeply mistaken if he thought she’d ever open the Valory Arch for him. Evangeline would find a way to cure Apollo on her own, then she’d make sure that Jacks never hurt anyone else ever again.
Jacks was not her friend, but he’d taught her that she could open any door she wanted, and Evangeline knew exactly which door she needed to open next.
54
In another part of Wolf Hall, a door that had not been opened for centuries began to stir. Its hinges creaked. Its wood groaned. And the wolf’s head emblem carved upon its center curved its mouth into a smile.
Acknowledgments
The Magnificent North would not be the same without a number of wonderful people who shared bits of their magic with this book.
Thank you so much, Sarah Barley, for believing in this story from the very first messy moment that I pitched it. Thank you for seeing the magic when it wasn’t really there and for helping me to get it there. I’m so grateful for you, for the way you love books, and that you are always able to spot the flaws in my books, so I can fix them before they are seen by others.
Thank you, Jenny Bent, my extraordinary agent. The longer we work together, the more grateful I am for you. Thank you for being the first person to love this story and for giving me confidence when mine began to fail. Thank you for your brilliant editorial advice and for your endless support in all things large and small.
I can’t imagine what my writing would be without the encouragement, love, and support of my wonderful family. This last year, especially, I needed all of you. Thank you for always being there even if it’s the five hundredth time I’ve asked you to help me figure out a new character name. Thank you, Mom, Dad, Matt Garber, Allison Moores, and Matt Moores. I love you all!