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“We have to take it to Lila’s grave.”

/> Uncle Macon studied me for a long moment, an unfamiliar mixture of sadness and worry warring in his eyes. “All right.”

I recognized his tone. He was indulging me.

I started walking toward Lila Wate’s grave, next to the empty plot where the good folks of Gatlin believed my uncle was buried.

Ridley sighed dramatically. “Great. More time in the creepy graveyard.”

Link slung his arm over her shoulders casually. “Don’t worry, Babe. I’ll protect you.”

Ridley looked at him suspiciously. “Protect me? You do realize I’m a Dark Caster again?”

“I like to think you’re kinda on the gray side. Either way, I’ll give you a pass today. I did just kill the Galactus of Incubuses.”

Rid flipped her blond and pink hair. “Whatever that means.”

I stopped listening and wove my way through the cemetery, The Book of Moons pressed against my chest. I felt the heat radiating from it, as if the worn leather cover might burn me, too.

I knelt in front of Ethan’s mother’s grave. This was the spot where I’d left the black stone from my necklace for him. It seemed to work then; I could only hope it would work again. The Book of Moons had to be a whole lot more important than a rock.

My uncle stared at the headstone, transfixed. I wondered how long he would love her. Forever, that was my best guess.

For whatever reason, this place was a doorway I couldn’t find my way through. The important thing was that Ethan could open it somehow.

He had to.

I put the Book on the grave, touching it for what I hoped would be the last time.

I don’t know why you need it, Ethan. But here it is. Please come home.

I waited as if it might disappear right in front of me.

Nothing happened.

“Maybe we should leave it alone,” Link suggested. “Ethan probably needs privacy or somethin’ to do his ghost tricks.”

“He’s not a ghost,” I snapped.

Link held up his hands. “Sorry. His Sheer tricks.”

He didn’t realize that the word didn’t matter. It was the image the word called up in my mind. A pale, lifeless Ethan. Dead. The way I found him the night of my Sixteenth Moon, after Sarafine stabbed him. Panic pressed against my lungs like two hands squeezing the breath out of me. I couldn’t stand to think about it.

“Let’s leave it and see what happens,” John said.

“Absolutely not.” Uncle Macon was done indulging me. “I’m sorry, Lena—”

“What if it was Lila?”

His face clouded over at the mention of her name. The question hung in the air, but we both knew the answer.

If the woman he loved needed him, he would do anything to help—from this side of the grave or any other.

I knew that, too.

He studied me for a long moment. Then he sighed, nodding. “All right. You can try. But if it doesn’t work—”

“Yeah, yeah. We can’t just ditch the most powerful book in the Caster and Mortal worlds on some grave and walk away.” Ridley was still perched on the headstone, smacking her gum. “What if someone finds it?”

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