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“Every bit helps, nieta. Every piece fits neatly into the other.”

I sigh. Having no doubt it’s true, though the pieces I seek seem to lie just outside my reach, and I don’t hesitate to tell her as much.

“What does the book say?” She crosses her arms before her, tilting her head in a way that encourages her braid to slip over her shoulder and fall to her waist.

“The book says plenty, most of which I don’t understand. You’ve read it, so you tell me, what is it I’m missing?”

She glances down the hall, as though she’s worried about someone overhearing, then in a lowered voice says, “I’m not sure that you’re missing anything. I’m not sure Valentina was able to foresee all that you’re up against. Some things are for you to discover on your own. That is always the way.”

I sigh. Wishing this wasn’t always so difficult—wishing that just this once, the answers would come easily. Then I discard the thought just as quickly. Easy has never been part of the equation, and from what I’ve experienced so far, it’s foolish to expect such a thing. It’s up to me to figure this out and prove that I’m worthy. No one else can do that for me.

“Thing is—Cade’s freakishly strong.” I shudder when I say it, remembering the way he held Dace off with one hand that horrible day at the not-so Enchanted Spring. “And when he’s not guarded by his creepy coyote, he’s surrounded by his army of undead yet very loyal ancestors. And despite feeling so much stronger, so much more empowered, than I did a week ago, I’m worried it won’t be enough. Chances are I’ll have to get through them in order to get to Cade, and I’m not sure I can do it. Also, I know I haven’t mentioned it, partly because I didn’t really know what to make of it, and partly because I didn’t want to give it any more power than it already has, but—” I pause for breath, my eyes meeting hers. “The dream is back.” I study her expression, but Paloma fights to keep her face as unreadable as ever. “It’s haunted me ever since we left Dace at Leftfoot’s adobe, and it’s always the same. Dace and me enjoying ourselves in the Enchanted Spring, until Cade arrives, turns into the beast that he is, and steals Dace’s soul, leaving him dead in my arms.” I cringe, the memory so clear it’s as though it’s occurring before me. “While Cade’s made it clear that he knows about the dream, what I can’t figure out is if he’s found a way to manipulate my dream state, or if it’s a prophecy all of us share? And speaking of the prophecy, I was hoping to find a different way to interpret it, but it’s pretty clear-cut, isn’t it?”

The grave look on Paloma’s face provides all the confirmation I need.

“So anyway, what about you guys?” I ask, eager to steer the subject away from me and onto her, hoping they’ve met with more success than I have. Aware of the constant ritual and vigil the elders have engaged in ever since the day they learned about the level of havoc and destruction Cade’s wrought. “Have you and Chay made any progress? And what about Chepi and Leftfoot?”

She looks at me, both of us all too aware of the name I failed to mention.

Dace.

I can’t risk speaking his name. Can’t risk her guessing what I’ve done. That I went behind her back, used the skill she taught me, and visited him via the raven.

Still, it’s impossible to lie to Paloma, and one look at her face tells me she knows more than she lets on.

My fingers fumble for the small golden key at my chest—remembering the feel of Dace’s skin, his lips pressing against the feathers, the weight of his touch …

I shake free of the thought, shove the key back under my sweater, and return my attention to my grandmother.

“Chay just returned,” she says. “He and Leftfoot ventured into the Lowerworld to conduct a little reconnaissance. From what he tells me, it’s settled for now. And by that I mean that the mine is still operating, the spirit animals are still listless and dull, and the Lowerworld is sorely polluted. Though our combined efforts seem to have worked in stabilizing it and keeping it from getting any worse. Or at least for the moment. There’s no telling how long our magick will hold. Fixing this will require something more drastic.” She chases the words with a pointed look.

“In other words, the next move is mine?” I pose it like a question, though we both know the answer. It’s entirely up to me to fix this. It’s what I was born to do.

“Soon, you’ll be ready, nieta.”

I lower my gaze to the mess of tools. Soon isn’t quite good enough. I needed to be ready right now. Time is a luxury I just can’t afford.

I knock the book closed with my knee, vowing to face Cade tonight. There’s no more delaying. The longer this goes on, the more people will suffer. Besides, I heard what Dace said, saw the determination in his gaze. I have to get to his brother well before he can. As long as he’s under Chepi’s watch, he’s safe. The prophecy can’t possibly play out if she’s keeping him under lock and key.

Which is why I have to move now.

To delay any longer is to risk everything.

I lift my face to Paloma. “It’s time,” I say, my voice determined and sure. “My training’s complete and my magick … well, it could probably be better, but it’s still pretty dang good. At any rate, I have to act now, before it’s too late.”

She regards me sagely. Relaying so much emotion in one single look: Her regret that my life requires so much sacrifice—her pride that I’m embracing the challenge despite all the dangers—her fears for my safety, the very real possibility that I won’t live to see twenty.

“It’s not enough just to have a goal, nieta. You need to have a plan to see it through.”

I consider her words for a moment, knowing there is no strategy, no plan, and no time to come up with one. Then I look at her and say, “I don’t have a strategy. So, I guess I’ll just do as you taught me and think from the end.”

Her fingers fidget with the buttons running the length of her cardigan. Taking a moment to consider, she nods her assent and says, “Well, first you’ll have to do something about this room. Your friends are waiting in the den. I doubt you want them to see you like this.” She gestures at the mess, her grin growing wider when I set my room into a frenzy of motion. Straightening my bedspread, restacking the pillows, and returning all of the random, loose objects into the trunk where they originated. Everything tucked neatly away, despite the fact that I haven’t so much as lifted a finger.

“Do not underestimate your abilities or your readiness, nieta. Especially not after such an impressive display. Your telekinesis has come a long way.” Her voice grows hoarse with emotion. “It’s really quite remarkable.” She pulls her sweater tightly around her, observing me for a long quiet moment, before she swipes a hand across her cheek and goes to summon my friends.

* * *

By the time my friends reach my room, I’m lounging on my bed with my back against the headboard and my legs stretched before me. Running a quick hand through my hair, as Lita saunters in first, saying, “So this is your room?” She tosses her hair over her shoulder and takes a good look around. Surveying the space through squinted eyes and lashes caked with a liberal use of mascara. “I have to be honest, Daire—it’s not at all what I expected.”

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