But the beauty of the lines, clouded until I found this very moment, was hard to look past, and I blinked a tear away, shaken. I hadn’t seen them like this since losing the mystics. The reminder hurt. I could see evidence of their passage all around me, but they couldn’t see me. Perhaps the punishment was fitting.
“Trent, stop this,” Jenks protested, and I bowed my head, shaky hand raised to tell Cormel I wasn’t backing out of it. Breath held to hide the heartache of what I’d lost, I touched the rod to Felix’s forehead.
“Close your eyes,” I said, and Felix did. His lips closed over his fangs, and the blackness in his eyes was hidden. He looked normal, frightened, and hopeful to the point of pain. He exhaled and didn’t breathe again, and I felt the magic beginning to rise in the room, prickling along my thumb until I rubbed it out.
“Trent . . . ,” Jenks whined, his wings making an odd sound.
“It’s perfect,” I said again, breathless and disoriented as I turned back to the charm, confident Felix wouldn’t move for fear of losing his coming soul. “I’m fine,” I echoed, breathing in time with the drums.
“Cormel?” Felix called, eyes opening and panicked. “Why am I bound!”
“Peace,” Cormel said, and Felix dropped back with a whimper.
I shivered as Cormel whispered the word. I could feel Trent behind me as I rolled the black cloth into a cord and wove it through the Möbius strip. As each inch scraped through, it was as if another layer of dross peeled from the lines and my connection deepened. My head hung, and I dropped the metal band to clank against the table. Dizzy with knowing, I shook the salt out. I didn’t think my eyes were open. I couldn’t tell—sparkles blocked my vision.
“You okay, Rache?”
I blinked fast. It was Jenks. I could tell because his dust was a frightened black, and the rest of the sparkles were a white so pure they were painful.
“Fine,” I said, blinking again, and suddenly the sparkles were gone. It had just been the spilled salt on the table that I’d been looking at. “I’m fine.”
Oh God, everything was transparently sparkly, as if I was going to get a migraine. Black cloth in hand, I found Felix’s expression, hopeful and longing. “It may make you walk into the sun,” I warned, and Cormel stiffened.
“I don’t care,” he moaned. “Finish it!”
Someone was holding my elbow, and I shook as I covered the vampire with the shroud of finding. That same someone handed me a bottle, and I recognized Trent’s slim fingers as I stood and peeled the wax cover off.
“Stay with me, Rachel,” Trent said softly, drawing me back, and like a breath exhaled on a winter night, a haze pulled from the bottle as I wove it through the air over Felix, his soul remaining still as the bottle slipped away from around it.
“Cormel?” Felix whimpered, sounding like a lost child.
“I’m with you,” Cormel said as he stood over him, envy and jealousy in the slant to his eyes as he gripped Felix’s shoulder.
I’d be lucky to escape with this one task, I mused, hazy as the elven drums became my entire world.
“It’s close,” Felix groaned, and Cormel pressed him into the couch, keeping him unmoving. “Cormel, I can feel it!”
“I can see it,” Cormel said in awe, and Felix’s bound hand rose to his face.
“Don’t let him move!” I shouted, and the spirit recoiled at the echoes of my voice. “Hold him. It’s searching!”
“Holy mother toad piss,” Jenks swore, but the first feelings of doubt trickled through me. It wasn’t going for Felix. It wasn’t finding him. Why? I’d done it right. I knew it to be right!