Rachel Hawkins: Demonglass

Then he jogged toward Thorne, disappearing into the blazing house. One more name I could add to my list of the lost.

I’ve heard people say that when you go through a lot of trauma, your brain just shuts off, goes right into survival mode. That must have been what happened to me, because I felt like I’d been dosed with a giant shot of mind-Novocain.

I turned away from Thorne Abbey and began walking toward the mill. Not running, not sprinting. Just walking. One foot in front of the other.Go to Aislinn Brannick, he’d said. Your mother is there. Okay, then. I’d go to Aislinn Brannick.

Once I reached the mill, I found the chain pretty quickly. Lying just a few feet from it was Archer’s sword. That’s right; he’d left it here that horrible night.

My fingers were as numb as the rest of me when I reached down and picked it up, its weight heavy and solid in my hand. I would take it with me, just in case I ever saw Archer again.

And just then, that feeling washed over me again, the strange psychic impulse I’d been feeling since I left Graymalkin. But this time, it wasn’t dread that washed over me, or fear.

It was happiness. Hope.

Iwould see him again. I can’t tell you how I knew it. I just did.

My magic flared inside me, futile but still there, and I felt the numbness slide away from me, steely determination taking its place. If Archer could live through this night, maybe that meant Dad and Cal could, too. And Jenna, wherever she was.

And together, maybe we had a chance of stopping all this. I clutched the sword tighter with one hand, and used the other to slip the chain around my neck.

“Aislinn Brannick,” I muttered under my breath. “Wherever you are, I really hope Cal is right about you.”

Then I stepped through the doorway.