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The circle isn't finished. The outer ring breaks on the north side, left open. Not working. A rehearsal. They're measuring how far into her they can reach.

I shift back. Cold hits bare skin like a slap. I drag on the clothes I stashed behind the deadfall. Thirty-eight years of this teaches you to leave clothes where you can find them.

My phone's in my jeans. I call Evelyn.

"What now?" She asks. No hello.

"They've got something of hers."

The pause is small. It still costs her something. "What?"

"Cloth. From the shop."

"Burn it."

"I know."

"Don't touch the circle."

"I know."

"Gage."

"I said I know."

I shake salt from the packet in my jacket, ring the scrap, and put a match to it. The orange cloth catches and burns blue.

Blue is bad.

"Tell me what blue means."

Evelyn is quiet a beat too long. "Sympathetic access. They're testing whether they can work her through her things."

"That's what I thought."

"They're getting closer."

"Also what I thought." I watch the flame eat the last of the fabric and gutter out in the salt. "Tell me everything."

"No."

My hand closes hard enough to creak the case. "I'm done with that answer."

"Then it'll be a long day for you."

"Her power's waking ten days early. A familiar shows up out of nowhere. They mark her house, they probe her magic, and you keep saying not yet. What are you still sitting on?"

A slow breath on the line. "The shape of her awakening."

"Which is."

"We don't know."

"Then stop acting like you do."

"That isn't fair."

"I don't care."