I couldn't sleep. The ancient pages I'd discovered in the library seemed to pulse beneath my pillow where I'd hidden them. Every time I closed my eyes, the words swam before me: "Echoes of the Serpent," "ritual communion," "fragments remain."
Midnight had come and gone. The Thorne estate lay silent around me, moonlight streaming through my window and casting long shadows across my bedroom floor. I'd waited long enough.
Sliding out of bed, I dressed quickly in dark clothes, pulling on sturdy boots and a thick jacket against the night's chill. The small satchel I'd prepared earlier waited in my wardrobe—candles, chalk, a small silver knife, and the other items listed in the ritual text.
"This is madness," I whispered to myself, even as I gathered the bag and moved toward my door. But what choice did I have? If these "Echoes" were real, if something of the entity my parents had fought still lingered...
