“It all started when he went to talk to
her
.” Verlaine pointed, and at the far edge of the crowd Nadia saw a stout woman in her fifties with long, ash-blond hair. The woman looked deeply worried—and, to Nadia’s eyes, guilty. “That’s Ginger Goncalves.”
Nadia pushed through the still-murmuring crowd, straight for Ginger, whose eyes widened. She turned to go, but Nadia called out, “Ginger! Wait!”
Ginger just walked toward her car faster, but Nadia caught up with her, running too fast to stop easily; she had to catch herself against the side of the car with both hands. Verlaine was right behind her, but she grabbed one of Nadia’s arms as if to pull her back. “Nadia,
think
,” she whispered. “Whatever she did to Mateo—what if she does it to you, too?”
“She won’t,” Nadia said loudly. “I bet she can’t even if she tries.” Every protective spell she’d ever learned seemed to flood into her mind at once, and she raised one hand—the hand with her bracelet, all its pendants and stones promising that the power was hers if she only chose—
But Ginger’s eyes widened as she saw the bracelet. Different witches kept their materials close in different ways—jewelry, bands on belts, stones in small sacks kept in pockets or purses—but each way was easy enough to recognize if you knew what you were looking at, and Ginger did.
For a few moments they simply stared at each other. Then Ginger grabbed a pad of paper from her handbag and scrawled a note, which she defiantly held straight in Nadia’s face:
You told a man about the Craft
.
“He had to know,” Nadia said. But she couldn’t explain that Mateo was her Steadfast; Ginger wouldn’t believe her, and since even Nadia didn’t yet understand how it was possible, she didn’t want to get into it, particularly with a witch she wasn’t sure she trusted. “Because of the curse on his family.”
Ginger shook her head; clearly that wasn’t a good enough reason.
Verlaine huffed, “Why are you explaining yourself to her? She’s the one who hurt Mateo!”
“I broke one of the First Laws,” Nadia said quietly, never taking her eyes from Ginger’s face. The ambulance’s siren was too far away now, almost gone. What was happening to Mateo? “I have to answer for that. Always. Forever. But I’ve never used my powers to harm another human being. Ginger, what did you do to him?”
Ginger’s face crumpled, like she might cry. With a shaking hand, she jotted out another note:
It was only a spell of forgetting. Amnesia—for today, maybe a few days before—no more. So he wouldn’t know about me
.
Nadia held the note as she and Verlaine read it together. “But that shouldn’t have made him collapse. Dizzy for a second, maybe—confused—not anything that would make them call an ambulance.”
Quickly Ginger wrote:
I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t meant to hurt him
.
But already Nadia’s mind was working fast. With a warning glance at Verlaine, who seemed to understand she should remain quiet, Nadia said, “I—I have a Steadfast, one who was near you when you cast the spell.”
Ginger’s eyes widened, and Nadia knew that they’d both seen the same thing. A spell of forgetting, on its own, was simple but strong; it could erase a day’s events beyond any recovery. But if a Steadfast amplified that spell—even a Steadfast not sworn to that particular witch—then it could be far more devastating. Mateo would have forgotten everything about himself. Everybody he’d ever known, every place he’d ever been. He probably no longer remembered how to speak or stand.
At this moment, his body might be forgetting how to breathe.
Nadia steadied herself against Verlaine as she said to Ginger, “Drive us to the hospital now. You have to lift that spell on Mateo as soon as possible. If you don’t—”
“What?” Verlaine whispered. “What happens? Could Mateo die?”
“I doubt it.” If only Nadia could draw any comfort from that. “But he could turn into a vegetable. He might never walk or talk again. Never remember who he is. The person Mateo was—that will be lost, forever.”
Elizabeth lifted her head, suddenly alert.
The bonds of the curse on the Cabot family—yet another of the constants of her world, a presence in her life as unchanging and guiding as the North Star—had suddenly fallen slack.
Nadia Caldani cannot have broken the curse. She doesn’t have the power. She couldn’t
. Even as anger rippled through her, Elizabeth realized—no, the curse remained. But the ties that held Mateo close to her, kept him under control … some powerful magic had disturbed them. And even through the murk now separating her from him, Elizabeth could tell that Mateo was in serious physical distress. Perhaps even mortal danger, though she couldn’t be sure. That stupid girl must have tried some spell beyond her ability, thinking her little Steadfast friend gave her the strength to do anything she wanted.
Well, Mateo Perez couldn’t die yet. She wasn’t done using him up.
Elizabeth rose lazily from her place on the floor. In her mind, no less sarcastic for the voice being mere thought, the demon spoke:
Will you run to his rescue? Play the noble heroine?
“Silence, beast.” Elizabeth had ceased to see the point of humor some two centuries before; already she was eager to find him an appropriate vessel, the better to house him where she need not hear his endless mockery. “I don’t have to run anywhere for a rescue.”
She unbuttoned the front of her white dress, then let it fall from her body onto the floor; she wore nothing underneath. Her wood stove was only a few steps away, and as always her bare feet found the slivers of floor not covered with glass. Then, with bare hands, she pulled open the metal door of the wood stove. It took more than heat to burn her now, and besides—what glowed and crackled within was not wood.
No power was more flexible than stolen power. Or—if you knew how to use it properly—sweeter.
The light of stolen love and life painted her thighs and belly, touching them with heat. Unblinking, Elizabeth stared into the glow, picturing Mateo’s face.
You are mine
, she thought.
No one else can free you. Only me
.
Ginger drove to the hospital so quickly that Nadia found herself bracing her hands against the dashboard. It still didn’t feel fast enough. But within minutes the three of them were dashing across the hospital parking lot. From the grim, desperate look on Ginger’s face, Nadia could tell how truly she regretted having hurt Mateo.
It didn’t matter. Nadia remained so angry with Ginger, so frightened for Mateo, that she wanted to scream.
Mateo will be okay
, she reminded herself.
He won’t die. They have machines that keep him breathing. Ginger will break the spell, and he’ll be fine again in no time
.
Physically, that was true. But what about Mateo’s mind? Although he would be able to remember things from now on, would he ever recall anything from his past? Was every moment he’d ever known—every moment
they
had ever known—lost forever?
They ran into the ER waiting room. Nadia hurried to the nurse on duty. “Yes, hi, we’re here about Mateo Perez—we’re his, um, his friends.” Would they even let anybody in to see him? Could Ginger cast the spell from here?
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “No visitors outside the immediate family.”
Nadia glanced over at Ginger, who still looked as likely to bolt as to help Mateo. Before she could think what to do, though, Verlaine shouted—more loudly than Nadia had ever heard her say anything, “This is an outrage!”
Heads turned around the waiting room. The nurse said, “Miss, I understand you’re upset, but the same rules apply to you as to anyone else.”
Verlaine grabbed out her phone and started recording video. “This is about—about freedom of the press! The public has a right to know what’s being served in local restaurants if it’s
killing people
!”
Someone across the room, who seemed to be waiting for a doctor to check out a black eye, said, “Wait, restaurants are killing people?”
Everyone started murmuring, and Verlaine used her free hand to start beating on the nurses’ station as loudly as she could. “I demand accountability! I demand justice!” Then she shot Nadia a look that clearly meant,
Would you please get a move on?
“If you don’t quiet down, I’m going to have to call security!” the nurse cried; already a security guard was edging toward Verlaine. Nadia started backing away from the fracas, towing Ginger along with her. As everyone focused on Verlaine, who kept on shouting about citizen journalism, Nadia was able to push through the doors that led to the ER itself.
Captive’s Sound was so small, and so quiet, that no other patients were in the ER. Both doctors and all the nurses swarmed around a single hospital bed. Amid the sea of tubes and scrubs, Nadia could just see Mateo. He looked so pale, so still. Her heart constricted painfully in her chest.
“Do something,” she whispered to Ginger, who nodded.
It was horrible, having to rely on someone else to save Mateo. Though Nadia could have tried something herself, it would be harder for her; the spellcaster herself always had the greatest power over the spell.
But even as Ginger lifted one hand to begin, Mateo suddenly sat upright.
“Whoa—” he groaned. His eyes opened, then shut tightly against what must have seemed like too-bright light. “Whoa, what’s going on?”
“Lie back down!” one of the doctors ordered, but Nadia could tell she was relieved, as were all the other medical staff in the room.
Mateo stared past the sea of doctors toward her. “Nadia?”
A nurse finally saw them. “Excuse me, no visitors. You’ll have to step outside.”
“You’re okay, Mateo!” Nadia called to him even as the nurse pushed them both back toward the doors. “You’re going to be fine!”
As they were finally edged out, they almost backed into Alejandro Perez, who looked petrified. “Please—my son—”
“He’s awake and responsive,” the nurse said. “We’ll tell you more when we can. Wait out here.”
“He’s awake?” Mr. Perez repeated. Relief made his face go almost slack.
“Madre de Dios.”
Nadia nodded quickly. “He woke up while they were in there. Sat up and knew who I was and everything.”
Apparently Mr. Perez was too overwhelmed to ask himself why she and Ginger would have been in the ER in the first place. “You’re sure?”
“It’s all going to be okay.” It was the kind of thing people said even when they couldn’t be sure, so Nadia could get away with it; she did know for sure but couldn’t explain how she knew. And Ginger looked as confused as she did....
“I’ve been working him too hard,” Mr. Perez whispered. “Riding him too hard, after he skipped a week of school. Wanted to—to straighten him out, you know? But Mateo’s always been a good kid. The first time he ran a little wild, I drove him to this.”
“No, no! It wasn’t your fault,” Nadia insisted, thinking,
It’s mine
. “Please don’t blame yourself.”
He patted her shoulder absentmindedly. “It was good of you both to come. But I—I need to talk to the doctors now.”
“Of course. Go,” Nadia said. Next to her, Ginger nodded.
Silently they walked into the parking lot—where Verlaine leaned against Ginger’s car, slightly disheveled. They must have tossed her out here for creating a disturbance. As soon as the doors swung shut, she said, “What just happened?”
Nadia didn’t answer—she couldn’t—and instead turned to Ginger. “Did you do something in the car? Cast a spell?”
Ginger shook her head no and shrugged.
“It doesn’t make any sense.” Tugging her hair up into a tail with both hands, Nadia breathed out in frustration. “Your spell shouldn’t have worn off on its own. Even if it weren’t strengthened by his—by there being a Steadfast around.”
The answer hit her in a rush:
Elizabeth
.
He was her crystal ball, her window to the future—she still needed him. Elizabeth’s dragon claws had been sunk into his family for hundreds of years; why would she let go now?
And she was still so attached to him, still so aware of everything about Mateo, that she’d sensed the spell without even being there.
How deep did that connection go? Would Nadia ever be able to free him? Was that even possible?
Nadia took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. She realized that Ginger had been scribbling something for a few seconds now, just as Ginger finished and held up her note:
You’ve broken one of the First Laws. You have no right to the Craft
.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” Nadia said, but she felt like she was dying inside. It was like all the anger her mother would have felt, all the scorn, was bleeding through Ginger into her—like somehow her mother had left because she knew this would happen, which made no sense but at this moment felt horribly true. She tried to stick to the subject. “Elizabeth did this. You know she did. Just like she’s the one who cursed Mateo in the first place—and cursed you.”
Ginger only stared, but Nadia knew that was the same as agreeing with her. Verlaine hugged herself and watched them with worried eyes.
“She’s planning something.” Nadia stepped closer. “Something terrible, this Halloween night at the carnival. I know you don’t approve of me. I know you think I’ve done something awful but—it’s not like what Elizabeth does, you get that much, right? You’re—” Her voice broke, and a flush of shame warmed her cheeks, but Nadia forced herself to keep going. “You’re the only other nonevil witch I know right now. My mother’s gone. Elizabeth’s a Sorceress. If we don’t stop her, I think a lot of people are going to get hurt. And I’m sure Mateo’s going to be the first. Please, tell me—what would you do? What are you going to do?”
Ginger jotted one more note, handed it to Nadia, and got into her car. The door was slammed shut in a way that suggested they wouldn’t be getting a ride back home.
Nadia looked down at the piece of paper, which said only,
RUN
.
MATEO KNEW HE WAS DRUGGED. THE HEAVY, SWEET
taste on his tongue and the overpowering weight of his eyelids and his body told him that. It was as though he were sinking through endless fog but couldn’t bring himself to care.