“—‘a sprig of lavender collected at dawn’—”
Tolliver starts to say something, but I squeeze his knee.
“—‘three grains from the apple with many seeds’—”
Poppy pauses and looks at Tolliver. He looks to me, and I nod.
“Pomegranate seeds,” he says.
She continues, “ ‘And the mortal remains of the deceased, from which a single bone, stripped of flesh and stained by time, shall be taken.’ ”
“Great, more bone magic,” CJ mutters.
Poppy clears her throat. “ ‘At darkest night, unite the elements, excepting the bone, upon the grave of the one who sleeps, for this is their awakening. Before the first light, reunite the departed soul with the single bone taken from their mortal remains. Once flesh and spirit are joined, bid it follow you to the land of the living.
“ ‘Upon your return, stand once more on the head of the corpse’—I think this is supposed to be ‘at the head of the grave.’ Uh…‘Chant thrice the incantation, passed down from the mages of antiquity’…”
Poppy hesitates. “Why is this next part still in Latin?”
Tolliver shrugs. “Blame the book. It wouldn’t let me translate.”
Poppy’s brow furrows. “So, there’s a four-line spell in Latin, I guess, and then”—her voice goes back to her dramatic persona—“ ‘If the incantation is successful, your very marrow shall sing with eldritch energy. The bones of the departed shall be knit together as if by an unseen hand, flesh and sinew re-forming as though woven from the air. The soul, guided by the beacon of bone, shall receive its mortal vessel and rise from the earth as a seedling breaking through soil.’ ”
She finishes, bowing theatrically, and we’re all silent for a moment.
“You’re supposed to clap,” she says.
Tolliver does.
I shake my head in disbelief. “We did it. We have the spell for resurrection.”
Even CJ has a sort-of smile on their face.
“Oh, wait,” Poppy says. “There’s one final part:
“ ‘Listen and heed this final admonition. Whatever the circumstance, however great the need, may your hand not attempt this most forbidden of rituals. The perils are too grave, the cost beyond all reason, yet, hear well this singular exception…’ ”
Poppy falls silent. When she doesn’t continue, we all exchange glances. I can tell by the looks on the others’ faces that they feel the same chill running up their spines.
“That’s it?” I ask. “What’s the exception?”
Poppy shrugs. “I don’t know. It cuts off there.”
“Ominous,” Tolliver says, plopping down on the sofa and grabbing a slice of pizza.
CJ groans. “We’re going to have to do some grave digging.”
“And hope our souls aren’t damned,” Rook adds nervously.
It’s quiet for a moment, the only sound Crowlene trying to unwrap a Fruit by the Foot.
“Hold up,” Poppy says after a moment, examining the manuscript. She sets it on the coffee table and carefully runs her finger down the gutter. “I think there’s a page missing.”
“What?” I say. “But you said it was magically protected.”
“These look like scorch marks.” Her eyes widen in realization. “Hellfire.”
My mouth goes dry. “Did the demon we fought somehow get ahold of it?”
