The Devouring Gray(79)

Harper knew he was trying to make guardians of his own. But his statues were only getting stranger, not stronger. A fox with a tail that was a cluster of eyes; a squat, hideous frog with a human arm sprouting from its mouth in place of a tongue; and other things that were not recognizable as animals or people at all, disparate parts that somehow melded together.

The dull partial sentience of the statues made Harper uneasy. They couldn’t move—but they could stare. She tried not to flinch as all those misshapen eyes locked onto her, tracking her movements as she entered the shed.

Maurice Carlisle was seated at his workbench, humming tunelessly as he chipped away at a block of clay. Three steel blades hung on the wall behind him. Statues and bells peered out from shadowy corners, hung from the ceiling, crowded at the edges of the shelves. An audience.

“Harper,” he said, not even bothering to glance up from his work. His brow was furrowed with mild annoyance. “What is it? Do you need something?”

“I have a question.” Harper wasn’t sure how this was going to go. But if Justin Hawthorne could find it in himself to tell her the truth, surely her own father could do the same. “Dad—what does the Church of the Four Deities really want?”

Her father’s head raised from the block of stone. “To remove the Hawthornes from power, Harper. We told you ourselves.”

But it was more than that. Harper knew it was more than that.

She’d seen the Beast inside Violet’s skin. The fear in Nora’s eyes. And she knew there was something wrong with the way she’d been asked to win over Violet without understanding why.

She was running out of excuses for her father.

“Maybe you’re trying to protect me,” she said. “But I’m your daughter. Please, just trust that I can handle this.”

“There’s nothing to handle,” said Maurice Carlisle, his wrinkled forehead furrowing with false concern. “Has your arm been bothering you again? There’s no need for such dramatics; we can take you to the hospital if it’s that bad.”

Her arm. That was a low blow, designed to make her stop asking questions. Designed to make her feel small.

“I know when you’re lying, Dad,” Harper said softly. “Why are you lying?”

Maurice Carlisle’s face tightened. “Harper, please,” he said, rising from his seat, a slight note of panic in his voice. “Don’t push me on this.”

“You took me to a meeting,” said Harper. “You got me to take Violet out on the equinox—”

“I promise you,” he said tersely, “that if you just stay quiet and do as you’re told, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

It occurred to Harper, then, that she was being used.

Just like she’d warned Violet the Hawthornes would use her.

All this time, and she still hadn’t learned that there was no one she could trust.

“Is that all you think I care about?” she asked. “Following instructions? Staying safe? Do you really think I’d go along with whatever this is for long without a real explanation?”

Her father met her eyes. “You’ve done a great job of only hearing the answers you want so far. I’m not lying about the Hawthornes. Look at how Augusta treats you. How she treats everyone who isn’t powerful.”

“But, Dad, you have powers!”

“Not enough,” he said bitterly, widening his arms and gesturing at the rest of his workshop. “Our family is weak, Harper. And no matter how hard I work, these sentinels will never match my mother’s guardians.”

His eyes met hers, and there was something feverish in them, something that made her stomach churn. “Our family made a horrible mistake when they imprisoned the Beast. They’ve put us through generations of strife and turmoil. And I am going to set it right.”



From then on, every entry ended with that same line. Violet’s stomach clenched more tightly every time she saw it.

November 20, 1984

The first meeting went wonderfully. Some were skeptical at first, but when I laid out our plan, they were swayed. All who attended have been sworn to secrecy. If they break their vows, they will be punished accordingly. I’ll make sure of that.

My father is grateful that the woods have been calm. I wish I could tell him it’s because of me, so that the Beast can gather strength, but he cannot know. Not yet.

Only four months remain until the spring equinox. There is much preparation ahead of us, but I know the end will be worthwhile. I have full confidence in the might of the Church.

Branches and stones, daggers and bones, will meet their judgment day.



“Dad,” Harper said slowly. “What do you mean, you’re going to set things right?”

Her father hesitated. “The leader won’t allow us to say.”

Harper realized that if she wanted to get any real answers here, she would need to lie. So she drew on the rage that was always bubbling beneath her skin, and she let it show.

“You recruited me because I’m a fighter,” she said. “I want to fight for the Church. The real Church. But I can’t do that if you won’t tell me what you’re really doing.”

The words came out perhaps a bit more emphatically than Harper had wanted them to. But they seemed to work. The fear in her father’s eyes was gone now, replaced entirely by that feverish glee.