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"Also, once I begin, there is no turning back. We must see it through to the end. Do you still wish to do this?"
He waited, and I gave a shaky nod. "I do."
He squeezed my hands, then released them, turning a stern gaze on the other two. His voice was low and gruff. "This is the most important part. You must—you must—do exactly what I say. There is no room for error here, and there will be no time for discussion or argument. If I give you an order, all three of you, you must do exactly what I say, immediately, even if you do not understand, even if you do not agree. River's safety—all of our safety—depends on it. Is that clear?"
I waited for Theo to attempt a joke, but he only nodded, and the shaky determination on his face wrenched my heart. The only thing more painful was the agonized hope in Luca's eyes.
Julian gave a sharp nod. "Then we begin."
He rose to his feet and crossed the cavern, retrieving the bag of salt from our stockpile by the wall. He removed the knife from its sheath on his belt and slit the bag across the top, then tilted it, letting the salt pour out onto the stone floor. He moved backward, slowly tracing a wide circle around where we all sat by the fire.
"Is that…” My voice shook and I attempted to steady it with an effort. "What is that for?"
"Celestial beings are sensitive to salt," he explained, continuing his careful circle. "When Lilin transforms…if she transforms…she may be confused. Disoriented. There is no way for us to know her mental state. She will be able to cross the barrier with some effort, but I hope it will give her pause."
"How exactly is this all going to work?" Theo asked, his gaze following the line of salt.
"We are going to attempt to bring Lilin to the surface without harming River in the process," Julian said, his matter-of-fact words making me feel faint. "Then I will begin a series of spells that should reverse the transformation. Once her angelic form has been fully restored, she will be able to leave your body, River, and I have another spell that can help lure her out if she is unwilling to go. But she cannot leave you before the transformation is fully complete, or her presence will act as a beacon to the hosts of Hell."
"Olryg," Luca said in a strangled voice.
"Correct." Julian finished his circle, the last grains of salt falling to complete the unbroken white line, then turned to Luca. "Equally important is that you must not let Abigor out of your body. No matter what you see, no matter what happens, he must remain with you, or all our efforts will have been in vain."
Luca's throat worked as he swallowed. "I understand."
Julian crossed the room and set the empty salt bag against the wall, then returned to the fire with the five citronella candles in his hands. "Anulus lucis," he muttered, touching a wick to the nearest log. It blazed to life—for a moment, I could have sworn it burned violet, but at second glance, it appeared to be an ordinary candle flame. The pungent aroma of citronella swirled around me as Julian lit each one, murmuring in Latin as he dripped wax onto the ground to keep them from tipping.
"Birthday candles would've been more appropriate," Theo whispered in my ear. "Festive, too."
I gave him a warning look and elbowed him in the ribs. "Quiet," I hissed back.
Julian didn't appear to have noticed. He went to the cave's entrance and returned with a stack of firewood in his arms. The wood was mottled, threads of black char running through each log.
"This is from a tree that has been struck by lightning." He placed the stack next to me on the ground, then pulled the knife once again from his belt. "And the last thing we need, I'm sorry, River, is your blood."
Not goat's blood, then. "Sure," I said, in a voice that sounded about a thousand times more confident than I felt. I rolled up my sleeve and extended my arm. "Um…”
Julian took my wrist in his fingertips and gently rotated my hand. "Not the palm," he said. "The back of your hand will heal much faster."
I nodded, my heart pounding. The knife was really big. "Go ahead."
"Maybe don't watch,” Theo advised, grimacing. He scooted toward me and put a hand on my knee.
I took a deep breath. "I'm okay," I said. "It's worse if I shut my eyes."
The expression on Theo's face was pure disbelief, but he shrugged.
Julian's fingers tightened on my wrist. "Ready?"
I clenched my teeth. "Go," I gritted out.
Carefully, with a steady hand, Julian pressed the keen blade of the knife against a pale blue vein at the back of my hand. I felt a bright, piercing pain, and at once, dark blood welled up. The knife withdrew, a single crimson drop clinging to the steel, and Julian slipped it back into its sheath.
"I'm dripping," I said, watching the blood run in rivulets between my knuckles.
Julian chuckled softly. "That's the idea," he said. He picked up a piece of the charred wood and held it below my hand, so the blood splashed onto it, rolling sluggishly through the lightning-carved crevices.
"How much—" Theo had turned, if possible, even paler.
