Nora looks alarmed. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

I wince. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Anna—” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Don’t you see? Fin Varra is the Irish King of the Dead. Dead, as in wraiths. He must be the one behind all of this. He’s helping the wraiths absorb people’s souls. He’s hunting down Ravens.”

“But that doesn’t explain why Colin had a vision of him,” I start, and just as quickly stop when I realize what about my vision in the costume shop bothered me so much: the knives Fin had been holding—they were Saint Knives!

And one of them had a tiny, cat-ear-shaped nick in the handle, just like Colin’s.

Raven journals are passed down through generations. What if those Saint Knives had been in there for centuries? What if they’d once belonged to Fin?

“Oh no,” I whisper. All eyes turn to me, and I hesitate, not wanting to make things worse.

Kara, on the other hand, has no reservations. She plucks the words right out of my head. “Fin was holding a pair of Saint Knives in Anna’s vision that had the same chip in the handle as Colin’s. She thinks Colin’s family is descended from Fin Varra, which would explain why Colin got a vision of Fin when he used the knives, and why Anna saw Fin when she looked at Colin through the Radharc— Hey!”

The pillow I chucked at her rebounds uselessly off her shoulder, and it’s all I can do not to find something more solid to throw.

Kara’s words leave the adults’ faces stunned and Colin looking nauseous.

“Perhaps that is why you feel so ancient to me.” Rose lifts a hand, feeling the air about Colin. “His magic runs through you.”

Unease unfurls in my belly when Nora and Aunt Elaine exchange another worried glance. “We don’t even know if this is true!”

“I’m afraid it is.” Gran enters the library, a burning candle in her hand. The tip of the flame is pointing directly at Colin. “On a hunch, I performed a séance to locate Mr. Varra, but his presence is in the Otherworld. Instead, my spell has led me here, to Mr. Pierce.”

We all look as one to Colin, who shrinks beneath our gazes. “What does that mean?”

“It means you share the same energy, which is why my séance spell brought me to you,” Gran replies. “Anna’s theory is correct: you are Mr. Varra’s descendant.”

Colin’s eyes widen, and he wilts into the couch. I can only imagine what he’s thinking: he’s not only descended from an ancient Irish deity, but his own ancestor is responsible for the deaths of countless Ravens, including his parents.