Halloween. Tomorrow.
Vivi looked at the ghost, her blood suddenly ice cold, her stomach clenched. “So you’re saying—”
“The curse reaches its zenith tomorrow night at midnight,” Piper said, and that smile turned poisonous. “Tomorrow night, both this town and the Penhallow die.”
Chapter 30
Vivi’s whole body ached as she and Rhys made the drive up to his house, and she was more tired than she’d ever been in her life. A kind of bone-deep tired that made things like unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the car door seem impossible.
Rhys must’ve seen it because he reached over and pushed the button for her, then walked around to her side of the car and opened the door, helping her out.
“Want me to carry you?” he asked, and she looked up at his house.
“No offense, but getting bridal-carried into this house might make me feel like the swooning heroine in a horror movie.”
“Understood,” Rhys said with a little smile, but he still put his arm around her as they made their way up the porch steps.
“Who knew getting momentarily possessed was so draining?” she asked, and as Rhys unlocked the door, he looked over at her again, eyes searching her face.
“You’re sure you’re all right?”
She was, technically. Okay in body at least, just tired.
It was her heart that ached.
Tomorrow night, both this town and the Penhallow die.
Piper’s voice was so clear in her mind, the way her eyes had burned as she’d glared at Rhys.
Rhys, who was . . . whistling as they walked into the house.
Vivi followed him, watching as he tossed his keys onto the table, then went into the kitchen, emerging with a couple of bottles of water.
“At least now that Piper has said her piece, she can stop haunting the library,” Rhys said, and that was one good thing that had come out of this night. Once she’d delivered her pronouncement, she’d vanished, the Eurydice Candle crumbling into dust, and Vivi had the sense she was gone for good this time, no binding spells necessary. But it still made her sad, the thought of that bright, talented witch feeling her power slowly drain away as she attempted magic that was entirely too much for her. It felt like such a waste.
Rhys handed Vivi a bottle of water, flipping his own in his hand a couple of times before opening it. “Still, mission accomplished and all that.” He moved toward her, but Vivi stepped back from him, suddenly not quite as exhausted.
“Rhys, did you miss the part where if we don’t fix this tomorrow night, you’re going to die?”
He stood there in the living room, nonchalant, sipping his water. “So she says.”
Vivi gaped at him. “No, not so she says. Seriously. You’ll die unless we can raise Aelwyd’s spirit and somehow convince her to forgive you for the sins of your family. Which, let me remind you, is a very tall order.”
“Never know until we try, so don’t really see much point worrying about it,” he said, and then set his bottle on the table, walking over to take her hands.
“Now, should I die, I was thinking some kind of Viking funeral. Launch me in a fiery boat, you know? Do they have lakes around here?”
Jerking her hands out of his, Vivi stared into those blue eyes, that handsome face, and once again, she could see Gwyn’s card for him clear as day. The Fool, cheerfully walking off mountains.
“Can you not make jokes about this?” she snapped, and Rhys rocked back on his heels, a trio of creases appearing on his forehead.
“Sorry,” he said. “I forgot what a night you’ve had. Not a good time for quips, you’re right.”