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He sighs in a bored tone. “I’ll need the stone.”
I take it out of my pocket and reluctantly hand it to him. I look at Tory for support, and she winks at me conspiratorially. The warlock places the stone on Juliana’s chest, then straightens and chants.
Her eyes close and her body trembles. I want to go to her, to hold her, but Tory shakes her head, warning me away. I feel helpless watching her, knowing she’s experiencing terrible pain.
Instead, I focus on breathing as steadily as I can through my nose. It occurs to me that no one here has a reason to trust or help Juliana. Pocus could have forced the man to destroy Anderson’s spirit, then killed him. He didn’t have to help Juliana first.
Of the three of them, Mama is the only one who met Juliana when she was a spirit. They’re helping because they trust me. And they love me. Or at least, Tory and Pocus love me. Mama is just Mama.
Juliana cries out in pain, and I have to stop myself from running to her. I don’t know anything about this process, but based on Tory’s warning look, I’ll only be in the way. As much as it kills me to watch, this is a battle Juliana has to fight on her own.
The man chants for several minutes. I watch as the light in the stone fades dimmer and dimmer until there’s none at all. I look down at Juliana, who groans in pain but makes no effort to move.
“Is it done?” I ask desperately.
“It’s done,” Tory confirms, dropping Mama’s hands and moving out of the way so I can get to my girl.
“Be careful with her,” Mama warns as she removes the talisman around Juliana’s neck. “She will be very tender. Get her home as quickly as you can and let her rest. It may be a long healing process.”
I nod and thank her profusely. I want to hug her, but that isn’t our nature. Instead, I scoop Juliana up carefully and carry her to the car parked at the edge of the parking lot. They can deal with Anderson without me. Juliana is my only priority.
“Hex?” she whispers weakly as I lay her down in the backseat.
“I’m here,” I tell her. “You’re safe. Just rest now.”
“I love you,” she whispers before passing out.
With Hex and Juliana gone, I go to Tory and stand behind her, wrapping her in my arms. She presses her body against mine and sighs.
“Now comes the hard part,” she whispers.
She turns to face me. Her face is clouded with worry and doubt. She presses herself against my chest, and I feel her heart racing. She’s done so much already. I just want to whisk her back home and let her rest. Anderson may not be draining her life force anymore, but she’s clearly exhausted. This whole ordeal is taking a lot out of her.
The sun is almost set, and the last weak rays of light cast her in a warm glow. She looks tired and frail, but she possesses an inner strength I can’t fathom. What she’s done today has been nothing short of incredible. She rallied us all and helped us rescue Hex and Juliana. Now she will ensure Anderson is gone forever.
“Is he still paralyzed?” I ask, staring at the spot she’s been guarding for the last few minutes.
She nods against me. “But it won’t last much longer. We need to hurry.”
“Hear that, wizard man?” Pocus asks the sorcerer. “There isn’t much time. So make this quick.”
“Pocus,” Mama warns. “He gets the point.”
Pocus waves his gun in annoyance, and the man’s face pales. He turns on Pocus, his eyes panicked. “You don’t understand,” he says in a scared, panicked voice. “Conjuring hellfire is a tricky, dangerous spell. You know why your friends can’t do it? Because it takes an incredible amount of power. And if you aren’t perfectly precise, it will consume everything in the vicinity.”
Pocus’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t loosen his grip on his gun. Instead, he turns to the men still assembled, awaiting his instruction.
“We’ve got it from here,” he shouts at them. “Thank you for all you’ve done here today. Your loyalty won’t be forgotten. Go home and get some rest. You’ve more than earned it.”
One by one, the men rev their engines and pull out of the parking lot. The sound is a loud, familiar roar I’ve long associated with my true family. If Pocus is sending them away, it means he’s worried the warlock is right.
“Pocus,” I say sharply, letting go of Tory and walking over to him. “Please tell me you aren’t doing what I think you’re doing. If he’s right, we’ll find another way.”
Tory is at my heels, grabbing at my arm. “He can trap Anderson’s soul in the stone,” she whispers to me. “But there’s always the chance some idiotic, power-hungry lunatic can set him free one day. He has to destroy Anderson’s spirit.”
I look between my wife and my best friend. Tory’s face is sympathetic, and Pocus’s is determined. I turn to Mama, who stares at Pocus sadly. She walks over to him and wraps her tiny arms around his waist. He towers over her, but she manages to make him look small.
“I’ve always been proud of you,” she tells him. “You’re a good boy, even if you regularly raise my blood pressure.”
