St. Isadora
I didn’t know much about the town of St. Isadora. I knew that it was founded around the same time as Salem, and that it was pretty small, with only about a thousand inhabitants. One of the few things I knew about it was that it had been home to Sam, the kindly old Native American man who had occasionally visited Summerroot to give us lessons about life and nature. It was a common stop for people on their way to hikes in the great mountain ranges north of the Salem Valley. It was also part of a reservation, so most of the folks in the town were Bitterroot Salish or belonged to other nearby tribes. Many of them were wizards and witches, since this region had always held such allure for magical people.
The hike to St. Isadora was long and arduous, but at least we had escaped from Salem. Hundreds of people had died, but it was nothing short of a miracle that there hadn’t been more casualties. The resistance had acted fast under Asher’s command, and managed to save countless people before the Soul Vortex reached us. For the first few miles after we left the valley, I could still hear the behemoth rumbling behind us from within the gargantuan dome of clouds surrounding Salem. The world outside looked so deceptively normal; the evening sky was clear, and gentle snow covered our surroundings. The only unusual thing was the dome, swirling like a dark snow globe, enveloping everything in the Salem Valley. I could see helicopters circling around it, but none of them dared approach.
The road lead through a winding series of canyons and narrow valleys. The population of Salem first stopped in a valley about a mile north of Salem, where we were greeted by a large detachment of military vehicles and soldiers. They had apparently been monitoring the dome ever since it formed – the helicopters were also theirs. Asher was the one the resistance selected to speak to the military about evacuation efforts, and they agreed that St. Isadora was a safe distance away. And so, escorted by armed soldiers and heavily armored troop transport vehicles, the people of Salem were guided further north in a long exodus through the snowy wilderness.
I found my parents not long after we left the dome. They told me Silas and Peter were okay, but there was no way to locate them in the crowd, so we just started walking north with everyone else. All the while, everyone kept an eye out for the Death Eaters. We had every reason to believe they would pursue us north, but for some reason, none of them ever emerged from the dome to attack. The battle had ceased the moment Asher closed the tunnel through the Limbo cloud. Now the only sounds I heard were the conversations and sobs of the evacuating muggles on all sides of me. A lot of them were bleeding, or badly injured, but medics did their best to tend to them. The final casualty count would not be known until the following morning, but suffice to say, it was high.
Liam walked alongside me. He looked at me and frowned. “I’m... uh, I’m sorry about them.”
He was referring to Dirk and Rosemary. I shrugged, trying to hide my internal agony behind the usual indifference of a middle schooler. In truth, I was absolutely mortified for not stopping Rodney and Nick before they killed my friends. I had the chance to disarm Rodney, but I hadn’t, and I was so distracted by Dirk’s spell that I hadn’t noticed Nick come up behind him. With my added guilt over what happened to Miles, I felt as though I had killed three people that day.
Liam wasn’t as good at comforting me as Peter and Silas were, but he tried his best anyway. “Hey, listen... for what it’s worth, I’m really happy I got to fight with you today.”
When I looked at him questioningly, he hurriedly clarified, “I mean, it’s not like I’m happy all this is happening. But like... you know, if I’m going to be fighting with anyone, then I’m glad it’s you. You really saved us at Summerroot.”
I looked at my feet as they paced rhythmically down the road. I tried to continue the conversation, anything to keep me from thinking about Dirk and Rosemary’s dead bodies back there behind the dome. “What happened back then? After you and the other Summerroot kids went through the Limbo cloud?”
“We ended up in East Salem,” he said. “You guys were gone, so the rest of us decided to find somewhere to hide. We thought we were safe, but... then the Death Eaters showed up. A bunch of them were Reborn. We managed to keep them away from the little kids, but... we lost a few of our own.”
I looked at him. “How many?”
“Two,” he said somberly. “One of them was... Mary.”
“Mary?”
“My girlfriend.”
I had no idea he even had a girlfriend. My heart sank. “I’m so sorry, Liam.”
Liam shrugged as if trying not to dwell on it. “I mean it though, man. I’m proud to be fighting alongside you. You beat Darkanoss. I’m sure we’ll beat him again, as long as we have you.”
I was distantly reminded of our childhood at Summerroot, when Liam had hovered around me like a dutiful sidekick, always looking up to me. For the first time, those memories made me smile rather than cringe. “Thanks, Liam. That means a lot.”
He smiled back at me. “Yeah. Well... you’re welcome.”
The long hike continued through the evening. The sun had gone down, and the temperatures correspondingly dropped even lower than before. Many people hadn’t been able to grab appropriate winterwear during the evacuation, so a lot of people were really cold. Heavy clothing ended up being relegated from the able-bodied to children, the elderly, and the sick. I even offered up my own blue coat to a baby girl who was shivering from head to toe, a gesture her mother deeply appreciated. I regretted that decision pretty quickly, since I was only wearing a long-sleeved shirt underneath, and the cold was biting. Eventually the soldiers started handing out coats, and I took one of them.
Soon, it was almost pitch-black outside, and the slow river of people found its way into a wide rural valley. The town of St. Isadora lay before us, glowing faintly across the snowscape. Instead of leading us directly into town, the soldiers had us all head to a farm where hundreds of tents had been set up. Wizards and witches used their magic to expand the interiors of these tents, so they could house more people. They also insulated the tents, so people wouldn’t be freezing cold all through the night. The interiors were lit by tiny magical lights that floated around in the air, also cast by the magic folk.
The tent I stayed in was occupied by four families: mine, Jared’s, Liam’s, and Peter’s. I had to admit, despite how horrible that day had been so far, I actually enjoyed staying in the tent quite a bit. The expanded interior of the tent was really cool to me; though it looked so small on the outside, it was the size of a small house on the inside, with plenty of room for all of us. It was like we were having one big campout together. I only wished we could have done it under better circumstances.
When I first walked into the tent, my three-year-old sister ran over to me and wrapped herself around my leg. “Bubby! You are home!”
I was relieved to see her okay, and immediately knelt down to hug her. It was hard not to cry in front of her. “Yeah. I’m home, Clea.”
“But it is a DIFFERENT home!” she said with great awe.
I nodded, looking around the tent pensively. “Yeah. It sure is, huh?”
The adults didn’t stick around to rest. After ensuring we were safe, all of our parents – including Peter’s muggle parents – left the tent to help out in other places, particularly the mobile clinics set up by the military. We kids stayed in the tent, exhausted and melancholic after the chaos we had endured. While Zoe played in the corner with Clea, I sat in the middle of the tent with Peter, Liam, and Jared, and we discussed the events of the past few hours. I told Peter about Dirk and Rosemary, and he did the same thing he always did: he hugged me, and allowed me to cry quietly into his shoulder. Having him here was more meaningful than ever. I was glad that he and I were sharing a tent.
“So what happens now?” Jared asked, frowning at them middle of our circle.
“I heard something about a counteroffensive being prepared,” said Peter. “Silas’s dad said that they’re calling in help from Aurors around the world to fight the Death Eaters. They even might get help from the British Ministry of Magic. But they won’t all be here until about noon tomorrow.”
“But what if there are people still in the dome?!” I remarked. “Surely not everyone was able to make it out. What happens if the Soul Vortex gets to them all?”
Peter didn’t have anything to say about that. He watched my expressions quietly. I sighed and leaned back, and it was only then that I realized my bones were aching. I’d done so much walking and running that I felt like I could sleep for a month, but I couldn’t get the Soul Vortex out of my mind.
“How do you think he did it?”
We all looked at Liam, and he stammered to clarify his question. “I mean, Darkanoss. The Death Eaters. How did they all come back to life?”
We pondered that question for a long time. A few of the tiny magical lights our parents had cast drifted past my face, leaving bright spots in my eyes.
“Maybe they were never really dead?” Jared suggested.
I shook my head. “There’s no way. Nick and Darkanoss were hit by Killing Curses. I saw it.”
“Me too,” Peter nodded. “At the very least, they definitely looked dead to me.”
“Maybe it just seemed like the spells hit them?” Jared countered.
Peter shrugged. “Maybe. I guess. It didn’t seem like that, though.”
“What about the flames that burn their bodies when they’re dead?” asked Liam.
“It happens even if they’re not dead,” I observed, thinking of the unconscious Miles burning away. “It’s like they turn to ash if they’re hurt or defeated. Maybe they’re, like... teleporting somewhere?”
“Or maybe their bodies are fake, and their real bodies are somewhere else,” Peter suggested.
“Well, they’re certainly not coming back to life,” Jared said firmly. “Because that’s impossible.”
I pondered Jared’s words. I wasn’t sure if I agreed with him. Even though I had no basis for thinking it, I deeply felt as though they had come back to life. But I recognized how absurd that sounded when spoken out loud. Darkanoss’s claims of immortality felt like the ramblings of a cult leader, not something that was legitimately true. As far as I knew, there was no magic that could return a person from the dead, not truly. Necromancy only resurrected the bodies of dead people, not their souls. The souls, meanwhile, could come back as ghosts, but weren’t capable of physically affecting the world the way the Death Eaters could.
“Maybe they have Horcruxes?” Liam suggested, no doubt thinking of Harry Potter’s memoirs.
“Are you kidding?” Jared retorted. “The whole army? Hundreds of Death Eaters? That’s ridiculous. Besides, you have to kill someone before you can create a Horcrux. I don’t recall hundreds of people dying before the battle in July.”
“So maybe they created the Horcruxes during the battle!” Liam eagerly continued.
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s it. I don’t know how to explain it, but... this magic, it feels different than that. It has something to do with those flames. I’m sure of it.”
I didn’t offer any justification for this belief, so Jared seemed to regard it dismissively. “Whatever. It’s not like we can do anything about it. The adults will figure it out.”
“Do you think they can do it alone?” Peter asked him.
Jared was already halfway to his sleeping bag. He gave Peter a look. “Of course they can. They’re the grown-ups. We should just do as we’re told and go to sleep. It’s been a long day.”
Jared placed his head down, and he was asleep almost instantly. I remembered his unique skill at speed-sleeping from the one sleepover I’d had with him about a year ago. Liam, Peter, and I shared glances.
“Maybe we should go to bed,” Peter conceded.
“Yeah,” Liam agreed.
The two of them receded to their respective corners of the tent. I was reluctant to rest with so much still on my mind, but my body compelled me to sleep. I followed Peter, and climbed into the sleeping bag next to him, which was right next to the door of the tent. Zoe and Clea were already sleeping side-by-side across from us, having exhausted themselves with playing. I smiled weakly at the sight of my sister’s sleeping head, and then gently laid my own down on the pillow in front of me, turning to face the door. Peter waved his wand, and the floating lights vanished, casting us into darkness.
I could see the faint lights of lanterns outside through the sides of the tent. I heard people’s voices. Even as we went to bed, there was still a lot of commotion outside from soldiers and resistance members and civilians. I wondered how my parents were doing. They were working hard for the sake of the people of Salem. I wished I could be as selfless as them. I wanted to help, but I wasn’t sure why I wanted to help. It wasn’t nobility. It just felt like something I ought to be doing. Lying around inside of the tent, doing nothing while Darkanoss and his Soul Vortex ravaged Salem... it made me feel guilty. Somehow, though I had no reason to believe it, this whole mess felt like my fault. I was supposed to have defeated him, but he had come back only five months later, and now it felt like all of the lives that had been lost were on me.
“Alan?”
I heard Peter’s whisper, and turned my head to face him. He was looking at me. “You good?”
I turned my body to face him fully. “I don’t know.”
“Hey, man... it’s gonna be alright, okay? We’re together. I’ll keep you safe.”
I chuckled. “You’ll keep me safe, huh?”
He blushed. “I mean, you’d do the same for me, right? So, like... I’m with you. Through and through.”
I nodded and gave him a look of sincere appreciation. “Thanks, man. You too.”
Peter gave me a thumbs-up, then turned around and shuffled a little in his sleeping bag. A few moments later, I surmised that he had fallen asleep. I looked back at the door of the tent, wanting to stay up to wait for my parents to return, but my eyelids were getting heavy. Even though my mind was fully awake and running at a hundred miles an hour, I had endured too much physically to dwell on my thoughts. My limbs fell asleep one by one, and I felt myself sinking into sleep. The last thought in my mind was the rushing sound as the Killing Curse hit Dirk’s back, and the look of Nick Varennikov smiling at me.
* * *
I had a strange dream that night.
I was walking through a dark cavern. For some reason, I didn’t feel like myself. It was like I was looking through the eyes of someone else. I raised a hand that was bigger than my own, and a wand lit up, illuminating the interior of the cave. There was writing on the walls, but I didn’t recognize the language.
It’s in here, I thought, but the thoughts weren’t my own. It has to be here.
I climbed deeper into the cave. A few times I had to squeeze through impossibly tight holes to keep going, and a part of me worried I wouldn’t be able to get back out. But I had to press on. For some reason, I had to find what lay at the core of this dark labyrinth. There was a treasure here more valuable than any gold. The sword in the stone, the fountain of youth. Something of mythical proportions. I would use this treasure for the great plan. I would use it to set everyone free.
And then I saw it. At the end of a great cavernous chamber, there was a bright red flame. It flickered wildly atop a little mound of ash, a perfect scarlet color. My heart was filled with excitement, though somewhere deep down inside of me, I was also terribly afraid. I felt like I was looking into an abyss that there could be no escaping from. The great void of death loomed in front of me. And I was overjoyed.
There you are, I grinned. Give me your essence. Give me the secret!
The flame seemed to protest. It fought against me. It was a strange sensation, as though the flame was me, and I was fighting myself. The person whose body I inhabited seemed irritated. I must have the secret. It is the key to everything. The key to our deliverance! Give it to me! GIVE IT TO ME!
I awoke with a start.
I panted for several minutes, struggling to regain control over my racing heart. I was back in the pitch-dark tent now, but the sounds outside had ceased. I had no idea what time it was. Everything felt like it was spinning. I clutched my head and slipped out of my sleeping bag, taking care not to step over Peter as I walked... except that Peter wasn’t there.
I stared at his empty sleeping bag in shock. I whirled around and looked at the opposite side of the tent. Clea and Zoe weren’t there either. Liam and Jared were gone too. I inspected every corner of the tent, but there was no sign of them. I reached for my wand pocket hoping to illuminate the area, but when my hand touched the pocket, I found that my wand was gone too. I began to panic. What was going on?
Then I saw a glow outside of the tent.
At first, I was too nervous to approach it. The light seemed to be coming from directly outside of my door. What was it? My mind immediately jumped to the Death Eaters, but something didn’t feel right. Why would the Death Eaters capture all of my friends and family, but not me?
Deciding to take a chance, I walked across the length of the tent, and slowly pulled the door flap open.
There was no one outside. The snowy field outside of St. Isadora where the tents had been set up was completely devoid of life. All of the lanterns were dark, and I didn’t see a single person around. And there, at the far side of the encampment, illuminated by a soft silver glow, was a male deer.
It wasn’t a Patronus. I could see its fur and antlers clearly. They were solid and corporeal, not the ethereal limbs of a spirit guardian. But I couldn’t tell where the anomalous glow was coming from. It was as if someone was shining a light from behind the deer, but there didn’t seem to be any light source. At any angle, the deer’s outline continued to glow.
The deer turned, and began to walk away. For some reason, I was compelled to follow it. It wasn’t a conscious decision. I felt like I was in a trance. My feet moved without my consent. Was I still dreaming? This didn’t feel real anymore. It was too surreal. My senses were all as keen as in real life, but this didn’t feel like my reality. It was like I had been pulled into a separate plane, a vacant world that reflected my own.
The deer led me away from the field, and across the road toward a dark forest. A part of me wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back to the safety of my tent, but I followed the deer into the woods instead. For a while, we walked quietly through the darkness. I stayed a few paces behind it, watching its fluffy white tail as it swayed nonchalantly. It was cold, and I could see my breath on the air, but for some reason I wasn’t shivering. I caught glimpses of stars through the pine trees.
The deer walked through the other end of the forest, and approached a narrow river. The waning gibbous moon above us reflected on the rippling water as it gurgled quietly. The deer leaned its head down, taking a sip of the freezing-cold, rushing water. My feet crunched through the deep snow as I followed it cautiously. A few moments later, I was standing right next to it on the riverfront. It was a lonely feeling, like we were completely isolated from the world, lost somewhere deep in the wilderness.
The deer raised its head, and looked at me. Then it spoke.
“Hello, Alan.”
It was a man’s voice. The deer didn’t open its mouth; it was like I could hear it talking through my head. But what shocked me most wasn’t that it was talking. It was that I recognized the voice.
“... Sam...?”
The deer’s eyes twinkled. There was no mistaking it. Somehow, through some means I could not begin to understand, this deer was Sam. It was the very same old man who came to Summerroot all those years ago. He had died so long ago, yet he was here, talking to me through this animal form. Was it his spirit? Or perhaps some kind of avatar that he assumed in the mortal world? Perhaps when he had died, he had been reincarnated in the form of a deer?
Sam seemed to read my thoughts. “I appear to you through the lens of your heart. This is your spirit. I am simply communicating with it.”
“How is that possible?” I asked breathlessly, barely over a whisper, as if not to disturb the serenity around us.
“Magical essence runs deep in these woods,” Sam explained. “Remember what I taught you at Summerroot? Magic is the energy of life, the energy that we have been gifted to manipulate. It is a gift that we must regard with the utmost gratitude and care.”
Sam took another drink from the creek. I was almost tempted to join him, since I felt I hadn’t had a proper drink in days. “What are you doing here?”
“I have come to deliver a message. To tell you the truth about Darkanoss’s power.”
My heart started. “You mean... how he came back to life? How did he do it?”
Sam raised his deer head and gazed up at the stars. I idly followed his gaze, and realized to my shock that the stars were moving. Like they were being guided by invisible hands, they rearranged themselves into a vast constellation, one that I recognized as the outline of the cloaked Donovan Trackwell.
“This man has engaged in a dark contract with the Limbo,” said Sam. “Limbo is a place between life and death. Sometimes, its effects are made manifest in our reality. The Limbo Mist. The Dementors. Darkanoss became fascinated with this power, and sought to become immortal by mastering the Limbo. He made a deal with the Dementors, and they in turn told him the secret of resurrection.”
“Which is what?”
“The Phoenix Stone.”
The constellation changed. This time, it displayed an object with jagged sides, like a rock or gemstone. For some reason, the sight of it was instantly familiar to me, though I thought I’d never seen it in my life.
“Darkanoss created this stone with the essence of an Arabian phoenix. Phoenixes are immortal beings. They walk the line between life and death. In other words, they too are connected to Limbo. With the stone, Darkanoss performed a spell known as the Ritual of the Blind. This bound his soul, and the souls of all of his followers, to the stone.”
I tried to wrap my head around what he was saying. “So basically... they can’t die because their souls are trapped in Limbo through the stone?”
“Quite the opposite, in fact. The souls of the Death Eaters are anchored to the world of the living by the stone. We all go to Limbo when we die, but when the Death Eaters are killed, the stone can retrieve their souls from Limbo and revive their bodies in the world of the living. It is the same as when the soul of a phoenix is recycled from Limbo into its ashes. They can die infinite times, and always come back.”
I stared quietly at the river for a few moments. I understood now why the Death Eaters burned into ash when they were defeated or killed. They were like phoenixes. Their deaths were only temporary. It also explained why the Death Eaters at the stadium all killed themselves when Darkanoss fell. They weren’t committing suicide. They were just retreating into Limbo until their next attack.
“So... what brought them back now?”
“The Ritual of the Blind was performed again. Darkanoss must have left some of his followers alive to carry out the resurrection. The Phoenix Stone is hidden somewhere, likely very close to Salem.”
“Why wait five months?”
“The ritual can only be performed again after a certain amount of time has passed.”
“What did the Dementors get out of the deal?”
“Souls. The souls of the people of Salem. The prisoners at Shichang, the Soul Vortex – this is how he has upheld his end of the deal. He gives them souls in exchange for their secrets.”
I shivered from head to toe in disgust. I truly thought I could not hate Darkanoss any more than I already did, but it seemed every new thing I learned about him only embittered me more towards him. He was willing to sacrifice thousands of innocent people to the Dementors just for his own immortality? He truly was the successor to Lord Voldemort – a selfish, cowardly, murdering monster.
A thought occurred to me. “I have another question.”
Sam nodded. “Of course.”
“How did I beat Darkanoss? Is it because I’m Reborn?”
He shook his head. “It was not. There is something special about you, Alan. When your spells interlocked, I am sure that Darkanoss sensed it too. You have the essence of the Phoenix Stone within you.”
I was bewildered. “What? How is that possible? I thought you said the essence came from a phoenix.”
“It did. That is why he did not anticipate you. Darkanoss is the creator of the Phoenix Stone, and thus he cannot kill you directly. Your spells will always overwhelm his. You also possess the power to destroy the Phoenix Stone. You are the sole threat to his plans for that reason alone.”
“But I don’t understand! What do I have to do with all this?”
Sam’s eyes twinkled again. “You will understand soon. She is still with you. That is why this is happening.”
“She? Who’s she?”
Sam didn’t answer. I wanted to ask even more questions, but so many came to me at once that I didn’t even know where to start. I was still struggling to accept the fact that I was talking to a dead man, let alone process the information he’d just given me. Darkanoss created a Phoenix Stone, and the stone could retrieve the souls of the Death Eaters from Limbo five months after they’ve died... but what was the Phoenix Stone? What was the nature of Limbo? What was my role in all of this? What did I have to do with the stone? But most importantly...
“How do we stop Darkanoss?”
“The Death Eaters can only be stopped if the Phoenix Stone is destroyed,” Sam answered. “Without the stone, they will be mortal again, including Darkanoss. But the destruction of the stone can only be accomplished in a certain way. That is a concern for later, however...”
A small part of me still wanted to continue that topic, but I realized that Sam was hinting at a much more pressing matter. “The Soul Vortex. How do we stop it?”
He tilted his head. “I think you already know how.”
I was a bit confused by this answer, but I realized this was the same sort of thing my teachers at Summerroot used to do when they wanted me to figure something out myself. I never did well in those kinds of situations, but I didn’t want to look stupid in front of a magical spirit, so I thought long and hard about the question. How would we stop the Soul Vortex? It seemed completely indestructible, and it sucked out people’s souls almost effortlessly. But...
“The Soul Vortex is made of Dementors and Limbo Mist. Both of those things are affected by Patronuses. If we cast another mass Patronus, could it destroy the Soul Vortex?”
Sam was quiet for a moment. “It could. But the mass Patronus conjured before was only enough to make a very small tunnel in the Limbo cloud. It would not be enough.”
“Not if the Patronuses were from the Reborn!” I insisted. “If the other Reborn kids and I conjure the charm together, our mass Patronus would be way more powerful than the grown-ups’. If we cast them all at once, it may just stop the Soul Vortex!”
If deer could smile, then I swear Sam would have done so at that moment. I could hear the satisfaction in his voice. “It very well could. You are a smart young man, Alan Doe.”
“But even if we destroy the Soul Vortex and beat Darkanoss, won’t he just come back in five months?”
“Yes, he most certainly will. Which is why before that happens, you will have to find and destroy the Phoenix Stone. But this can come later. For now, our priority must be to save Salem from the Soul Vortex.”
It was a lot to ask of me. I was finally beginning to understand what was happening, but that didn’t make it any easier. I was still just twelve years old, yet suddenly I felt the full weight of a city’s safety on my shoulders. Sam told me I was the only one who could defeat Darkanoss. The Reborn were the only ones who could stop the Soul Vortex. And we would have to do it fast. Every second we spent in St. Isadora, more people were dying who hadn’t been able to escape Salem during the evacuation. We didn’t know Darkanoss’s plans, but there was no guarantee he wouldn’t move or expand the dome, bringing the Soul Vortex to St. Isadora. I knew what I had to do.
“Sam,” I said quietly. “When people die... are they okay?”
I didn’t have to clarify my question. Emma. Rosemary. Dirk. Hannah Sweet. The kids at Summerroot. The muggles and wizards and witches who died during both battles. I needed to know that they were still okay, even if they were dead. Sam seemed to understand things about death that I didn’t. To me, all I could see was an incomprehensible void of darkness, an absence of knowledge, life’s greatest mystery.
Sam spoke gently. “Do not worry, Alan. Their souls are at peace.”
I rubbed my arm. “If Darkanoss could come back, then...?”
He shook his antlered head. “I’m afraid not. The Dark Arts that he performed corrupt the soul beyond repair. Moreover, they can only be performed on the living. I’m sorry.”
I hung my head. I had been anticipating that answer, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear.
“It is time for you to return, Alan.” Sam gazed up at the stars, which had all returned to their former positions. “You know what you must do.”
I clenched my fists. “I will. I promise.”
“Good. Then I have nothing left to teach you.”
The world began to feel fuzzy. It was like there was fog setting in, but I realized it was just my eyes falling out of focus. The river and the moon and the snow and the stars all turned into blurry mirages, melting together. The last thing I remember is seeing the deer look at me, its antlers glowing in the dream light.
“I am glad our lives crossed paths, Alan Doe. Be at peace, dear child.”
* * *
As soon as I woke up back in my tent, I awoke my friends and told them everything.
Jared didn’t believe me. When I told them I’d seen a talking deer with the voice of my dead teacher, he gave me a look like he thought I was positively mental. Peter and Liam, on the other hand, listened to me. When Zoe also took my side, Jared reluctantly caved. They all helped me with the next step.
It was still early in the morning, maybe about 3 AM. The first place we’d gone was Silas’s tent. We told him about my vision, and he instantly and unquestioningly agreed to help us. We snuck out, taking care to avoid the muggle soldiers and the other adults who were still awake, tending to wounded in the mobile clinics or keeping watch on the borders of the farmland. Silas, Peter, and Liam said they knew a few people who would help, and scattered to find them. Before long, we had gathered a group of Reborn kids about sixteen strong, whom we led to my tent, where we explained my plan to them.
“The Soul Vortex can only be stopped by a mass Patronus,” I explained to the kids. “But the adults can’t cast one powerful enough. It has to be the Reborn. We need to go back to Salem and destroy it.”
I immediately received a protest from Jake Rockwell, who had tagged along perhaps out of the sole desire to give me a hard time. “Oh, come on! Don’t be an idiot, Alan. You think we can do something the grown-ups can’t?”
A girl spoke up with him. I recognized her from the Battle of Summerroot; she had been one of the kids who went with Liam to East Salem. Her name was Matilda Ashmore. “I have to agree. I think we should be leaving this to the adults. We’ll only get in the way.”
Her friend James Cruz, also a veteran of East Salem, spoke up against her. “But he has a point. What if the grown-ups can’t make a Patronus strong enough to destroy the Soul Vortex?”
“The Aurors will be here tomorrow. We just have to wait until then. We shouldn’t do something stupid.”
“You’re all so selfish!” yelled a diminutive ten-year-old girl with dirty-blonde hair, whose name was Eliza Medley. “People are probably dying in Salem right now!”
“I’m really worried,” said a girl from John Proctor. She was tall and wore glasses, and I’d shared multiple classes with her. Her name was Lisa Forman. “My aunt and her family lived really close to where the Soul Vortex hit. I haven’t been able to find them since the evacuation. I don’t know if they’re still in there.”
“There’s nothing we can do about that,” Matilda said, though she clearly felt bad about it.
Jared reacted impatiently. “This whole thing is stupid. We shouldn’t even be talking about this kind of stuff. We’re gonna get in trouble.”
“Is that all you ever worry about, Jared?” asked Peter. Even though his tone was calm, his words clearly showed that he was fed up with him.
Silas stood up and paced in front of the group of kids, with a demeanor that reminded me of Asher. “Regardless of how we feel, the facts are clear. The Death Eaters have an enormous advantage. Even if the Aurors do arrive tomorrow, they may not stand a chance against the Soul Vortex. We’re more powerful than the adults. Doesn’t that make it our responsibility to take the lead?”
“We’re just kids!” Jared insisted.
Jake jerked a finger in his direction. “I’m with this guy.”
I was getting really impatient with those two. “Fine! If you two want to stay here and wait for this all to be over, then I don’t care. But I’m going back to Salem, and I’m going to stop the Soul Vortex!”
“I will too,” Silas said instantly. Peter chimed in, “Me too.”
“I’m with you, Alan!” said Liam.
The other kids whispered to each other, deliberating for a long time. Matilda looked at me.
“Even if we do stop the Soul Vortex, how do we know the Death Eaters won’t come back to life again?”
“Darkanoss used a Phoenix Stone to resurrect them,” I answered.
“According to your magic deer dream,” mocked Jake.
I tried to ignore him. “That stone is probably hidden somewhere. Once we destroy the Soul Vortex, we’ll look for it, and find a way to destroy it. Darkanoss and his followers can only resurrect themselves after five months, so as long as we can find it before then, then we can stop them from coming back.”
Matilda and the others pondered my words. I couldn’t blame them for being skeptical. A few probably resented me quite a bit. First I had defeated Darkanoss, and then I’d made a big scene in town hall, and now I was claiming to have visions from animal spirits. It was like I was casting myself as the protagonist of some heroic novel. But I hadn’t asked for this. I used to fantasize about being a hero like Harry Potter, but this was no story. This was a gruesome, terrible reality, and all I could think about was stopping it. It didn’t matter if the other Reborn kids didn’t help me. After everything that had happened, I would rather have died fighting to stop the Soul Vortex than sat around and done nothing. It wasn’t some sense of heroic duty. It was the only path forward I could see for myself.
Zoe Manning stood up and stepped next to me.
“I’m going to help you, Alan!”
Jared looked shocked. “Zoe! No! Don’t listen to him!”
Zoe frowned at him. “I’m tired of you always telling me what to do, Jared. I believe in Alan. Why don’t you? He’s going to save all of us, I just know it!”
I didn’t like Zoe putting me on that kind of pedestal, but her faith in me was touching.
The little girl, Eliza Medley, also stood by me. “You’re all a bunch of cowards. I’m fighting for my town! You can all just turn yourselves into slugs if that’s all you’re good for!”
Lisa also took my side. “I have to know if my family is okay. I’ll come with you.”
I couldn’t believe so many people had already decided to go with me. The rest of the kids took a little longer to decide. Matilda and James spent a while whispering to each other, clearly in fierce debate. The remaining kids either talked amongst themselves, or sat in pensive silence. After a few minutes had passed, I remembered that time was of the essence, so I stood before everyone and asked them one last time.
“Okay. Who’s coming with me?”
All sixteen of them said they would.