Back in her tent, Celia still couldn’t sleep. She took a flashlight out of her backpack and began to read the yellowed pages of the magic book. The type was small and cramped, like whoever had written it had had too many ideas and not enough paper. She didn’t know a lot of the words—alembic, quasimodic, alchymes—but the more she read, the more sense it made. It had a lot more details than Demetri had said, and described which different objects and sacrifices worked best for what kind of spells. Blood and memories of pain were good for hurting someone. A toy and the sacrifice of something precious were good for saving someone.
Celia grew sleepy but kept reading until her eyes refused to stay open. She slipped into sleep and dreamed of running fast while her fingers fused together and grew longer. Black feathers burst through her flesh, prickling her skin. She grew lighter, until she could bound forward and it would be a long second before she touched down again.
I’m becoming a bird, she thought, but when she jumped into the air, she fell to the ground in a painful jumble of feathers and breaking bones. She looked down at her body and saw not a bird, but a monster, wrong-angled and ugly.
She woke up panicked and confused, inside the blue world of her tent.
“Not real,” Celia whispered, and breathed in the sweet-smelling air, so strong she could almost taste it. She ran her hands over her goose-pimpled arms and kicked her legs out of the sleeping bag. She felt sweaty and gross, and wished she could take a shower.
Outside the tent, sleepy voices called out to each other and the smell of fried potatoes wafted through the air. Someone argued with someone else, and others laughed.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked toward Celia as she emerged from her tent. Then they pretended not to be watching as Demetri walked toward her.
“Morning.” His voice held none of the uncertainty from the night before.
How much does it hurt him to stand close to me? she wanted to ask. “Morning. How are you, Demetri?”
“Fine,” he said calmly, but his breath came too fast and his eyes were dilated. Celia had read that when people were around their families, their pupils got big like that. She’d also read that cats, just before the kill, got dilated eyes too.
“I brought you clothes. You don’t have to wear them, but I thought you might like to change.”
He set the pile of clothing on the ground a couple of feet away, bending over stiffly and then stepping back.
“Thanks.” Celia zipped back into her tent. Her old clothes smelled, and she was glad to get them off. She changed as fast as she could.
The pants were made of worn-down black corduroy with patches at the knees and hand stitches at the hem where the fabric had begun to wear away. The sweatshirt was thin but warm, and made out of a soft gold material with blue yarn sewn over the holes. Celia had never worn anything so used before, and she liked the softness of it. She liked how, when she came out of her tent, she looked like she belonged here.
But she didn’t. Everyone watched her as she disappeared into the bathroom. When she came out, they stared at her as she took a path that wound through a garden with tethered pygmy goats. She came to the picnic table where Demetri and Daisy sat eating bowls of steaming porridge. Celia grabbed a chipped bowl and spoon and served herself some of the gray bubbling mixture from the iron pot hanging above a small campfire. Maple syrup and soy yogurt sat on the table, and Celia spooned some of each into her bowl.
As she ate, she thought about Demetri and his golem trying to stop Krawl today. She knew she would have something to do with it, and she was pretty sure that whatever it was would determine who won. It made her feel both excited and nauseated. Nothing bad will happen to any of us, she thought, like a prayer, like hope, before she began eating and wondering if siding with the Littles meant she’d already made some kind of decision. Demetri and Daisy watched her every move like she was a fascinating creature.
“So what’s the plan today?” Celia asked.
“We wait until noon,” Demetri said. “Then I wake the golem with some spells I’ve been preparing. He’ll lead us to Krawl. With his help, I will find her heart and destroy it.”
A Little ran toward them, clutching a sheet of paper to her chest with chicken-feet hands. She jumped over purple cabbages and pumpkins as she came close. She stopped before them, breathless and wide-eyed. “Soltminer whispered through the east tube that he needs to see you today,” she said to Demetri. “Says he knows something about Krawl, and you have to hear it. He wants you to come and bring the doom girl. Says there’s something he can only tell you in person.” Her purple eyes flicked toward Celia as she spoke.
Demetri frowned. “How does he know we have Celia?”
The girl shrugged.
Demetri muttered in another language. “You should have asked him to give you the message instead.”
“I tried! He said he’d meet you near Finney Port at the Crab Shack, and that you’d better come or you’ll regret it. Then he was gone and I couldn’t get him back.”
The girl shifted from foot to foot as Demetri scowled.
“Thanks, Cathy. Good work,” Daisy said.
The younger Little grinned and ran back to her surveillance station.
“A trap,” Daisy said, and ate a lumpy spoonful of porridge.
“Perhaps.” Demetri stared into his empty bowl. “Though it would be the death of him. We hold his heart. I’ll do a quick meet-up and come back in time for the golem’s awakening. Don’t try to wake him without me: he’ll be unstable until I put the last of the spells on him.” He turned toward Celia. “You’ll stay here with Daisy.”
Dread pulsed through Celia. “Without you here, all the Littles, won’t they . . .”
Daisy’s checkerboard face went serious. “Celia’s right. One of them will snap. They won’t mean to, but they’re already on edge with having to smell her lovely scent all night. I’m even feeling unsteady.”
Demetri shook his head. “Every Big will still be hunting you out there, Celia.”
“Bigs can’t turn me into a monster. I want to come with you,” Celia said, and then ate a big spoonful of porridge. It burned the roof of her mouth. “Besides, I have to decide something today.”
She thought about the mural in the graffiti flats, and how it had both her name and Demetri’s in it. “What if I miss out on my chance to do what I have to?”
Demetri sighed. “That’s not how prophecies work.”
Daisy shrugged. “Nobody really knows how they work. Also, I’m coming too.”
Demetri glared at the world. “If you come, Celia, you promise to do everything I tell you, even if you don’t want to? For safety.”
Celia nodded.
Demetri closed his eyes and took a piece of smooth driftwood from his pocket. He placed it between them. The air turned electric, and Celia realized he was making a spell.
“I’ll listen to you; you don’t have to—”
Demetri opened his eyes. “Yes. You will listen. Sorry. I can’t take any chances.” Green light pulsed out from him.
The spell fell over her and crawled across her skin like a thousand wriggling ants. It lasted for a couple of seconds, then faded away.
“What’d you give up for that?” she asked.
“The smell of bananas,” Demetri said. “I’ve always hated bananas. I can’t remember why. Anyway, let’s get gone.”