“So how was cellar duty tonight?Cellarific”

“I should say upfront that I have never been in a cellar in my life. In fact, I can see no reason why anyone should ever go into a cellar unless there is wine involved.”

“Where the heck was I while you were playing Grand Theft Cellar?”

“Last semester was intense,” I said to Dad. “Intense?” he echoed, picking up my file. “Let’s see. On your first day at Hecate, you were attacked by a werewolf. You insulted a teacher, which resulted in semester-long cellar duty with one Archer Cross. According to the notes, the two of you became ‘close.’ Apparently close enough for you to see the mark of L’Occhio di Dio on his chest. I flushed at that, and felt Mom’s arm tighten around me. Over the past six months, I’d filled her in on a lot of the story with Archer, but not all of it. Specifically, the whole me-making-out-in-the-cellar-with-a-murderous-warlock-working-with-the-Eye-part.”

“There was a sensible part of me somewhere that clutched its pearls and hissed that I better not give up my V-card in a CELLAR, but when Archer's hands slid under my shirt and onto the skin of my back, I started thinking that a cellar was as good a place as any.”

“Oh, good, it worked,” Archer said, his ghostly face relieved. Unlike Elodie, his voice came in loud and clear, and so familiar that my heart broke all over again.I stood frozen, my back against the door. Even though he was faint, I could see him smirk.“Um…Mercer? Haven’t seen you in nearly a month. I was expecting something like, ‘Oh, Cross, love of my heart, fire of my loins, how I’ve longed—’”“You’re dead,” I blurted out, pressing a hand against my stomach. “You’re a ghost, and you think—”All the humor disappeared from his face, and he held up both hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not dead. Promise.”My heart was still hammering. “Then what the heck are you?”Archer almost looked sheepish as he reached inside his shirt and pulled out some kind of amulet on a thin silver chain. “It’s a speaking stone. Lets you appear to people kind of like a hologram. You know. ‘Help me, Sophie-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.’”“Did you steal it from the cellar at Hecate, too?” Archer had collected all sorts of magical knickknacks back when we had cellar duty at Hex Hall.“No,” he said, offended. “I found it at a…store. For magical stuff. Okay, yes, I stole it from the cellar.”

“Archer turned back to me, and that familiar grin flashed over his face. “Come on, Mercer. Me, you, the cellar. What could go wrong?”