Page 168 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

But something feels so wrong. I keep checking and rechecking that everyone has all of what they need, and every time I do, they always have it handled.

So, what feels so fucking wrong? Why does it feel like disaster has already struck?

“Alright, I’m ready,” Wren says.

“Me too,” Bastion chimes in.

“All we need is for the moons to line up, then,” Aemon says, looking up into the sky.

They’re creeping along, almost in place. Almost there. As I sit there, watching the trajectory of the mother, maiden and crone, a pang of awful dread lances me through the gut. It’s hard to describe. It’s like an aura, but so much more intense.

“The moons are lined up, time to start,” Aemon says.

“Wait,” I say, standing up.

“Wait? We can’t wait, Lillith. Where are you—”

I’m already out of the center of the circle, running to my clothes where they’re folded at the edge of the clearing. I pick up my phone and unlock it.

“Lillith!” Bastion shouts, furious. “We have seconds to begin this rite! What are you doing?”

My screen is blank, and I’m confused for a moment before I remember to turn off Do Not Disturb. When I do, a stack of notifications takes up the entire screen. Dozens of calls from that unknown number. Texts from Oren and Fletcher. Even one from Satoshi.

My skin goes cold and hot. My brain must be going offline, because I can only read some of the words, and none of them are forming entire thoughts in my head. Words like ambulance and third degree and induced coma.

Have I breathed at all? My heart is racing. And I’m hot.

But I cannot seize right now.

I open one of the texts with shaking hands. Oren’s.

Hey love, I’m not sure what’s going on. Damien’s in a bad way. There was a horrible accident. Somehow the curtain caught fire during the show. Most of us managed to avoid being caught up in it but he was in the back and he got covered by the flames. Burns over 70% of his body. they have him in a medically induced coma. The prognosis is bad. I know you can’t leave Del Lune but...if any of your friends can get here to help his chances. We’re all fucking freaking out.

“Lillith!” Bastion shouts again.

“It’s too late,” Aemon says, smearing both hands through his hair.

I feel Wren’s hand on my bare shoulder and the sensation pushes my body over the edge. I look at her without really seeing her. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.

“Babe, you’re pale,” she says.

My ears ring and I know it in my bones. We’re past that point of no return. A seizure is coming whether I breathe slowly or calm myself down or not.

“I’m going to seize,” I say, and I can hear the frustration in it even though it sounds like I’m underwater.

Wren nods and helps me to lie down on her lap. The last thing I remember is the feeling of her bracing her hand on my shoulder and the vague awareness of her calling the others to help.

My eyes must have closed this time, because when consciousness starts to creep back up on me, I’m in darkness. I feel Bastion’s soft hand cradling mine, Wren’s fingers brushing through my sweat-damp hair.

“She’s going to want to leave,” Bastion is saying. “She’s the only one between us with enough healing magic to help him.”

“Well, that’s too bad. She can’t go,” Aemon says tersely.

“You don’t know Lillith like we do,” Wren says, sounding almost affectionate. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to stop her.”

“But we already know the foregone conclusion. You’ve seen it yourself,” Aemon says.

“Maybe if I go with her—if I can protect her—”