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“Try something, anything,” Ellen said. “See how it responds to you.”
I was heartsick for Maisie. I missed her desperately, and I had to let her know that I forgave her for what had happened during the drawing of lots. I needed to see her for myself; I needed to know that she was okay. I held out my hand and touched the mirror. It rippled for a moment and then the reflection changed. I could see Maisie talking with a dark-haired woman I didn’t recognize. I caught the woman’s notice instantly, and with a wave of her hand she broke the connection.
“Amazing,” Ellen whispered. “You shouldn’t have been able to create a portal to Maisie. How did you do it?”
“I just thought of her and how much I wanted to see her,” I said.
“And with a simple thought and only a jigger of Oliver’s power, you were able to reach into another world, another dimension.”
“Dimension?”
“It was felt that it would be best to move Maisie out of contact with the line while she works things through.”
“Who was the woman?”
“Woman? She is less of a woman and more of a force of nature,” Ellen said, the corners of her mouth pulling downward. “She’s the anchor with whom Maisie is training. It would be best for you not to draw her attention again, sweetie.” She smiled at me, but the smile seemed forced. “So what are you going to do today?” she asked, quickly changing the subject. “Surely you aren’t going to waste it by standing in front of the mirror.”
Her question caused me to focus on the red and dappled green aura I had noticed earlier. I hesitated, but then said, “I think I’ve made a mistake,” pointing at the concentration of vibrant colors that hovered near my heart.
“Yes,” she said, stepping closer. “I can scarcely make it out, but I can tell that there is a magic there that’s at odds with your own.” Ellen reached out and brushed away the pendant to place her fingers over my heart, her touch gentle. “This is artificial magic. This is not witch magic.”
I knew we were both sensing Jilo’s spell. I also knew that I needed to use this day to rectify the wrong I had committed by going to her. I needed to find a way to end the spell she had placed on me even if it meant breaking Peter’s heart. I had to believe it was better for him than living a lie. “It’s Mother Jilo’s magic,” I confessed.
“Yes,” Ellen said. “Jilo’s signature is all over it, powerful yet amateur. Foolishly constructed and open to a whole bunch of negative side effects. Who asked her to place this on you?”
I didn’t respond, but Ellen seemed to guess the truth. “I see,” she said. Questions flitted across her face, but she chose not to pose any of them.
“Can I break this spell?” I asked.
“Yes, the spell can be broken,” she said after some consideration. “But it is a blood spell. In order to break it, you need to have the blood of the one who cast it.”
“How much of her blood?” I asked, a cold shudder shaking through me. I remembered the sackcloth bag that Jilo had been carrying when I went to see her at the crossroads; the poor hen inside had been destined for something much darker than Sunday dinner.
Ellen removed her hand and the pendant slid back into place. I felt myself grow stronger and more confident when it touched my chest.
“Not much,” she said. “Only as much as she used in her original casting.”
“So all I need to do is hunt down Jilo and ask her for a donation,” I said. I was strangely certain I could find her, but I wondered if even Oliver’s power for compelling would help me extract blood from the old stone.
“It would be best if she revoked the spell on her own, making it like she never cast it,” Ellen responded. “But if she’s unwilling, you could break it yourself with a bit of her blood mixed with a bit of the blood of the person who requested the spell.”
“But how?” I asked.
“Trust your instincts,” she said. “You don’t need my help for this one. If you can reach across worlds to find your sister, you can handle Jilo.”
I was still staring at my newly enhanced reflection when she left the room, but she was right. I was not going to waste another moment of my day. I placed my hand over the pendant and felt the fire circulate in my veins once more. When I slipped it beneath my shirt, I experienced a feeling barely short of vertigo. The world rushed up around me, and I was completely enveloped in the power. Finally the energy settled inside me, and I could think clearly again. Time to deal with Jilo.
I walked down the hall to the linen closet, halfway expecting it to creak open and radiate shimmering haint blue light, just like it had yesterday. The door remained shut. I stood before it for a few moments and then took the knob in hand. When I opened it, a completely normal room lay in front of me—no aquamarine, no amputee cat, and certainly no Jilo. I stepped in and closed the door behind me. I went to the center of the room, trying to sense Jilo’s magic, but the room felt blank. The only magic I sensed within its walls was what I had brought in with me. This was why my family had never sensed that Jilo had created a portal in our home. It was hidden from those who were filled with magic.
I left the room and followed my instincts downstairs and out of the house. Jilo was hiding from the police, who were a mere inconvenience to her, and from my family, who could pose a more serious threat. As guilty as Iris may have been for carelessly letting Grace slip into our world, I was guilty too. I had given Jilo a purchase from which to take aim at my family. I needed to convince her to break the spell that she had cast and then break off relations with her entirely. It was wrong for me to put my desire for knowledge and power before my family’s well-being.
I briefly considered taking my bike, but I needed to feel Savannah beneath my feet. After a few steps, I kicked off my shoes. I needed the stones and the sandy soil, the sun-baked concrete, and the tabby sidewalks to guide me. The surfaces tugged at my feet, their energy merging with my own, their molecules communicating directly with mine in a way that couldn’t be explained by the rational world. The sun was nearly overhead, and I knew the ground beneath me must be infernally hot, but I felt no pain. I felt only the pull of Savannah as she guided my feet toward my destination.
Through the lens of the power, I felt as if I were seeing the city for the first time in many ways. Periods of the past interlaced with future possibilities in a way that was confusing at first. Houses rose and fell, the street was paved and then it wasn’t. Towers I had never imagined seeing in Savannah sprouted and then faded. Everything was jumbled up before me, but with each step my focus was narrowing in on the now.
I let my feet carry me forward without questioning their steps. I realized that I was moving away from my home in an ever-expanding spiral. I felt as if I were once again a little girl, playing blind man’s bluff. Savannah called “warmer” or “cooler” to me as I continued along. I approached Whitfield Square, and its gazebo was like an arrow pointing me farther south. My pace quickened as I continued down Habersham past the small liquor store. Instinctually I drew closer and closer to the broadcasting tower on Huntington. And then I knew. I turned onto Huntington, moving as if the air itself were carrying me back toward Drayton, toward Forsyth Park.
