I wait for Casey to grant me permission, then I crawl over to the blankets, kneeling at their feet. Casey moves to follow, but Professor Broome holds up a hand to stop her.
“As you and Mrs. Kirkpatrick have clearly established yourselves as threats, if either of you enter the protective circle, the ritual will be ruined.”
“Bullshit,” Casey snaps.
“Would you like to take the risk?” Broome asks, her voice as calm and unbending as steel. “Now, when you’re so close to achieving your ends?”
Casey hesitates, then takes a few steps backward, granting us a small bubble of privacy.
Raising her gun, she takes aim at Ani and says, “If I sense so much as a tingle of magick, a whiff of an attack plan, he’s gone.”
“No one will attack,” I say. “You have my word.”
She barks out a dry laugh. “Let’s hope your promises to me are stronger than your promises to them.”
I wince at the jab, feeling it cut straight through me. A tear slides down my cheek, but that’s the only one I will allow tonight.
Kirin meets my eyes, his own shining with regret. He gave up trying to talk sense into his sister an hour ago, his voice hoarse from the effort. There was nothing he could say. Whatever came over Casey, whatever poisonous thoughts infected her mind, she’s singularly focused now. Nothing will sway her from that course.
“I will guide you into the dream realm with a meditation,” I say, looking each of them in the eye, forcing myself to remain calm. Steady. To hold the hope that’s quickly fading from their eyes, despite the weight of the darkness threatening to pull me under. “Listen to the sound of my voice, and follow it to your destination, holding tight to each other always.”
My voice breaks on the last part, but I clear my throat and smile, touching their feet, hoping it’s not the last time I get to touch them. See them. Know them.
Know her.
If I let it, my heart could shatter right now for all the things that never got to be.
But I can’t let it. Irefuseto let it.
They need me strong.
With our three Arcana still clasping hands, Professor Broome retrieves a glass bottle from her bag, filled with a mixture of water, herbs, and crystals. She unstoppers the bottle and gives it a gentle swirl, the herbal scent floating into the night air.
“The potion will help you find what you’re searching for, communicate with any necessary guides and spirits, and find your way back with the object intact.” She holds it first to Kirin’s lips, then to Baz’s. Each man takes a deep drink.
When she presses it to Stevie’s lips, Stevie’s nose wrinkles, followed by another soft smile that threatens to undo my completely.
“That smells terrible,” she says softly.
Professor Broome strokes her hair. “It’s the Fairy’s Breath. You’re the only one who can smell it.”
Stevie nods and takes a sip, finishing her dose. But just as Professor Broome sets the bottle aside, a soft gasp escapes Stevie’s lips, her eyes widening, her mouth parting in shock.
“Fairy’s Breath,” she whispers. “That’s it!”
I narrow my eyes, searching her face, keeping my voice low enough to avoid detection from our captors. “Stevie? What is it?”
“The smell. I’ve been smelling it for weeks, and it’s been driving me crazy because I couldn’t remember what it was. Janellereeksof it—always has. And tonight, for the first time in all the times I’ve seen her, Casey does too.”
“What are you saying?” I whisper.
Professor Broome’s eyes widen, some new realization dawning on her face. “Fairy’s Breath is used to enhance spirit communications and channeling, but it can also be used for possession.”
“As in, demonic?” I whisper.
“As inanyentity—good or evil, spiritual or earth-based, magickal or otherwise that seeks to possess a human body and use it to achieve its own ends.”
“That’s not CaseyorJanelle,” Stevie whispers. “Someone has possessed them.”
