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“Fine,” he rasped, though he sounded anything but.
What were they supposed todo?Joy cast a frantic look through the smoke for her coven, for Gabi and the others. But the billowing silver magic obscured everything, even Victoriya, and Joy’s chest tightened, rationing every breath.
Katrina was moving through the smoke; Joy knew it. She could be inches from Joy, could be right behind her, poised to kill Victoriya.
Joy spun with a ragged gasp, her wand trembling in front of her and every breath loud in her ears. A heavy silence had filled the room; it settled around Joy like a noose.
Across the room, someone spat a foreign word—an elven word—and Joy grabbed onto the deep, bass sound of Peregrine’s voice with relief. Whether he was a stranger or not, he was on their side—someone Gabi trusted.
Joy’s eyes roamed the room that had become shapeless and infinite thanks to the smoke, panic making her restless and itchy.
She jumped so hard she spilled some of the sachet; a groaning, metallic sound cut across the room, louder than a scream. It sounded like the whole world was pulling itself apart around her, and Joy didn’t even hear her squeaking shoes when she stumbled back.
A firm arm caught her around her waist, and Joy flinched away with a bright cry, jamming the end of her wand into the unwanted arm.
“It’s me,” Gabi rushed out, her arm tightening.
Joy gasped, the sound halfway to a sob. She knocked her wand from Gabis arm and slumped back against her. Fear had hollowed her out, made her a shell of panicked breaths and shivering.
She flinched as the metallic shriek rent the air again, but Gabi was calm, the weight of her arm reassuring.
“That’s Peregrine. You need to get out of here, Joy.” Joy could’ve sworn Gabi placed a kiss on her head. “Can you, Gus, and Eilidh get Victoriya out?”
No. No, she couldn’t. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop the tears now rolling down her cheeks, couldn’t tear her eyes from the mask of smoke around her.
But a memory grabbed hold, of hands being bound, a brow creasing with pain as a scream tent the air—Victoriya’s scream, Victoriya’s hands, heard and seen through the spell. Joy wouldn’t let her friend down. She made herself nod. For Victoriya, for her coven, she could try.
“I’ll—I’ll get her out,” she whispered, finding her throat sore.
Her knees tried to weaken again when Gabi pressed a kiss to the side of her head, but she locked them.
“I know you will.” Gabi squeezed Joy tight, so close that Joy could feel the hard bones of Gabi’s hips against her. Warm tears dripped down Joy’s cheeks, but she wiped them away, holding onto that sense of fear she’d felt from Victoriya.
Gabi kissed her forehead, and then her arm was gone from around Joy’s waist.
Joy grasped with frantic hands, trying to pull her back, suddenly full of the burning hot fear that she’d never see Gabi again.
That wasn’t the last time I’ll hear her voice. It wasn’t.
She swallowed her dread and dried her face. “Salma? Bo?”
Squinting into the smog thick around them, she tried to make out the beige and white blur of Katrina’s clothes, the shapes of Bo and Peregrine, or the familiar figures of her coven, but Joy saw nothing but fog.
“We’re here,” Gus replied, closer than Joy expected, and a yelp escaped her lips.
She reached out until her wand brushed his stomach, and a new sort of strength filled her. Gus was alright—he was here, tangible.
“Eilidh’s here too, and Maisie. We’ve got this.” His voice shook but the fact that he was attempting a pep talk in the middle of this … Joy squeezed her crystal wand until her hand stopped shaking.
If Gus could be brave enough, so could she.
“We need to get Victoriya out of here,” she breathed.
But she hadn’t taken one step before a shout cut the room, and her heart crashed to the floor.
“Katrina!” Gabi yelled, already too far away from Joy. “You are under arrest for the murder of—”
Gabi’s voice cut off with a grunt and Joy stumbled in the direction of her voice, fury clenching her jaw. She had the wild idea to march across the room and fight Katrina herself if she had to.
