Page 3 of Ivy & Bone

Cyrus drew closer to his father, shaking with fury. “You think you can get rid of me so easily?”

“The Book of Eyes has been opened,” Aidoneus hissed. “That grimoire that’s bound to your soul? It’s in the hands of witches. And they own you now. You’re bound for the mortal realm, boy. It’s only a matter of time before they summon you, and when they do . . . you won’t have a home to come back to.”

HAUNTED

PRUE

“You’re sulking again,” Mona whispered.

Prue crossed her arms, facing the rippling waves of the ocean as she tried to drown out her sister’s taunting voice.

“Isn’t there something more productive you could be doing?” Mona went on. “Something less . . . broody?”

Prue rolled her eyes. “I am not brooding.”

“Really? Then tell me why you’re out here, completely alone, with that grumpy look on your face.”

“I am . . . going over the plan in my head,” Prue said softly. “I need to be alone so the others in the coven won’t be suspicious.” Her mother, Polina, could always read her like an open book. And, as the Maiden of their coven, Prue was constantly called upon to use her magic to strengthen the village. It was exhausting. Every time Prue was summoned for it, she had to bite back a snarl of anger and resentment.

She didn’t want this. She’d never wanted this.

Mona was always supposed to be the Maiden. It should have been her.

If Prue didn’t come out here to glare at the horizon on a regular basis, she would probably end up cursing the entire coven into oblivion.

“So, the plan is in motion then?” Mona asked.

Prue nodded, keeping her gaze fixed on the slowly setting sun. Not long now, she thought. Today was Samhain, marking the end of the harvest season and the start of winter. This was when the veil between worlds was the thinnest.

This was the only night Prue could break open the gates of the Underworld. She had waited for this for more than six months. If she failed, she would have to wait another year.

She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She would rather die than spend another year in the service of her coven, when Mona . . .

“It’ll work,” Mona reassured her. “You’re strong, Prue. You’ve studied this for months now. You will succeed.”

Prue finally turned to face her sister. She didn’t often look Mona in the eye because she knew what she would see.

An apparition. A transparent fog. A whisper compared to who Mona had been when she was alive. The ghostly form resembled Mona in so many ways—the same dark wavy hair that was much smoother and less wild than Prue’s; the proud chin, delicate nose, and full lips that Prue shared; and even the darker skin tone, making her ghost appear smoky gray instead of pearly white.

But the spirit lacked Mona’s vibrancy, the luminescent glow of her sea-foam-colored eyes, the laughter gleaming in her gaze. This spirit was only a shadow. A constant reminder that Prue had already failed once before. She had failed to keep her sister alive.

She would not fail again.

“And you will play your part?” Prue asked, eyebrows raised.

Mona smiled, but it lacked the energy and spark that Prue knew so well. Her sister had been bright and cunning, always eager to find new avenues to use her magic. This smile was feeble by comparison. It was a mockery.

“Of course,” Mona said. “I’ve saved myself for this moment. For when it will matter most.”

Prue nodded again, though uncertainty bubbled within her. Her curls billowed around her with the fierce ocean breeze, and she impatiently tucked the loose strands behind her ear. Prue had a feeling she was the only one who could see Mona. None of the other villagers mentioned seeing Mona’s ghost, and the apparition always vanished when others approached.

But it made perfect sense. Prue deserved this. Mona had sacrificed herself to save the village—to save Prue—from unholy destruction at the hands of the undead souls of the Underworld. Prue had been prepared to pay the price, but Mona had stepped in first.

This was Prue’s punishment: to always be haunted by her sister’s ghost. It was so fitting that Prue doubted whether Mona could play her part. What if no one else in the coven could see her? They hadn’t seen her yet, so why would that change now?

“The veil is thin tonight,” Mona said. “Even those who refuse to see will have no other choice. I will be the first one through. I promise.”

Prue had been attending Samhain ceremonies since she was a toddler. She knew what to expect. Once the spell was cast and the spirits were summoned, the coven would wait to see who wished to commune with them, to impart the wisdom of the dead to the land of the living.

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