Scott McCall's Arc

Chapter 16 of 30

Stiles drove fast, hands tight on the wheel of the little blue jeep. The four jars rattled in Scott's lap. The staff lay across the back seat, its gold jackal head glinting under every passing streetlight. "Where do we even go?" Stiles asked. "He let us take these. He's coming." Scott didn't have an answer. The trees behind them stayed dark and still — for now. Scott's phone buzzed on the dash. He grabbed it. A message from Derek glowed on the screen: meet at loft. Scott showed Stiles. Stiles let out a shaky breath and swung the jeep hard around the next corner. "Okay. Okay, good. Someone with a plan. I love a plan." They pulled up to the brick building minutes later. Inside the loft, Lydia and Kira had already cleared the floor. Black candles burned at the edges. A wide circle of mountain ash waited, perfectly poured. "You got them," Kira said, her eyes going wide at the jars. Scott nodded and set them down gently on the concrete. "Put one in each corner of the circle," Lydia said, fast and certain. Scott and Stiles moved together, placing the four jars at north, south, east, west. Lydia stepped in and tightened the ash ring with a steady hand. "The staff goes in the middle." Scott laid the Anubis staff across the center. The gold head pointed up at the high windows. For a long second, nothing happened. Then the jars began to glow. A low hum filled the loft, climbing through the floor into Scott's chest. Kira grabbed his arm. The hum became a roar. The whole building shook once, hard — dust falling from the beams, windows rattling in their frames. The staff lifted an inch off the floor and dropped. The glow died. Thick black smoke poured from the mouth of each jar, twisting up into a single shape above the circle. It hung there, watching them with no face. Then it folded inward and was gone. The jars sat dark and silent. Stiles laughed once, breathless. "Did we — did we do it?" Scott stared at the empty air where the smoke had been. Something was sealed now. But the staff was still warm in his hand, and he could feel, somewhere in the dark, that Malik was still breathing.