CHAPTER 27

Magnus sat in a puddle of blood. Naked, shivering. Covered in it. When I stepped closer he looked up at me, tears streaming down his face.

“Andromeda…”

The voice soothed and scared me, drove me on and killed me at once. “I’m here, Magnus.”

“You left me…”

“I-I’m sorry. I was afraid.” I blinked at tears, and swiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

But when I looked at him again his eyes were glowing a bright, unnatural green. His fingernails crept longer and longer into claws with a grinding that made my bones quake.

“I will give you something to fear…” As he spoke, his teeth grew to fangs, tearing through the corners of his lips to spill more blood on the ground. I stumbled back as he leaned forward, as he lunged—

My eyes shot open, my hands aching from gripping the edge of my childhood bed. “Magnus!”

Instead of an answer I heard the cellar door creak. The slap of sandals, a boot, and a slightly more metallic, heavier tap on the stairs. Jember wasn’t alone.

I didn’t know what kind of mood he would be in—depended on whether he’d been out all night drinking or working. And I probably shouldn’t let the other person catch me in here. But I didn’t have the will in me to move from this spot. Or care, for that matter.

“Andromeda…”

Magnus.

His sweet voice echoed in my empty, cavernous heart, and I squeezed my eyes to force it away.

The footsteps stopped before coming into the room.

“Get me a salt slab,” I heard Jember say.

“You mean carve it from the desert?” asked a boy’s voice. He sounded tired, and I felt a small twinge of irrational jealousy mixed with relief. A new mentee meant Jember was making a steady living, at least, even if it also meant I’d have to share the room with one more. “But we’ve already been out all night. And I don’t know how—”

“Are you complaining, boy?”

“N-no, sir—”

“I’ve decided I need five slabs, now.”

“B-but—”

“Ten. Another word out of you and I’ll split your head open, instead.”

The only response was quick footsteps up the stairs.

The poor boy didn’t know what he’d signed up for. I let out a breath of laughter before sinking into misery again.

I heard the cellar door creak shut, the chain clinking as he turned the key in the lock. After a minute a weight dipped down the flimsy mattress at my back as Jember sat on the side of the bed.

“Andi.”

Jember’s voice was gruff, comforting because it meant I was home, but not attempting to soothe me in any way. Not my Magnus. Not my imagination. But it felt like a dream, anyway. He didn’t sound drunk. Or smell it. He smelled like incense, sharp and herby, and the subtle undercurrent of sweat. It was strange how much I’d missed that smell.

“Look at me.”

I didn’t move. Couldn’t.

He grabbed my shoulder, shifting me to my back so that I rested against his, and I didn’t fight the movement. He was wearing his white long-sleeve undershirt and pants, and of course his ever-present red gloves.

“Someone hurt you?” he asked.

I wiped my blurred eyes with the back of my hand. “No.”

“Then what are you crying about?”

I took a trembling breath. “I failed.”

Jember scoffed and turned back around to unlace his boot. “You live in some rich man’s house for a few weeks and suddenly you’re soft.”

“I’m not soft,” I countered.

“If everyone cried at every failure, the entire planet would be in a constant state of mourning.” He yanked on his boot, giving up with a frustrated grunt. “Get this off me, girl.”

I sighed, but somehow it wasn’t out of annoyance. I scooted off the bed to kneel in front of him. “So, you found a new mentee,” I said, tugging off his boot easily.

“I was assigned a new mentee.”

“How’s it going?”

He shrugged, pushing his dreads behind his shoulders. “Eager to learn. But he can’t seem to understand how to sense Manifestation strokes, which is literally the easiest part of the job.”

“He just needs time. It doesn’t come easily to everyone.”

“I’ll find someone better and replace him.”

“No one’s ever good enough for you,” I mumbled.

“You were. Now look at you. A mewling quitter.”

I shoved his boot to the side. “You’re the one who told me to quit in the first place.”

“Didn’t tell you to cry about it.”

I pushed myself to my feet to stand in front of him, my eyes burning from the threat of tears. “Can you just help me find a job? And I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

Jember’s gaze shifted, searching my face. “What happened?”

“I failed.” It was more of a sob than words. I hugged the amulet to my chest, my vision blurring as I looked at the floor. “He was counting on me, and I couldn’t save him. And now he’s alone and frightened—a-and—” I swallowed another sob. “I’m a coward. I can’t go back there. How can I face him after I let him down so badly?”

“What did you do, girl, fall in love with him?”

And that was it. My body shook, my hands pressed against my face. It burned to breathe. I let loose with uncontrollable sobs, more violent than I’d ever felt before. Maybe my body was just playing catch-up from the rest of my life when I wasn’t allowed to cry.

“I’m going to count to five,” I heard Jember say, barely audible over my sobbing. “And then I’m going to stop your crying for you. One.”

I tried to take deep breaths, but my lungs wouldn’t cooperate.

“Two.”

Smothering was his usual warning when I was about to cry, anyway …

He pushed himself up from the bed and snatched up his pillow. “Three.”

Then again, he’d never made it to five before.

“Okay, okay,” I gasped, forcing myself to breathe, wiping my face.

“Four.”

I fixed my posture and swiped my sleeve across my tear-welled eyes, alternatively taking deep breaths and gasping.

“Five.” He stood in front of me, holding the pillow with both hands, like he was prepared to use it. I hiccupped. He threw the pillow at my face, and I caught it as it fell, hugging it to my chest. “Don’t ever cry over a boy again. Unless he transforms into a hyena and tears your leg off. Until that happens, you don’t get to cry.”

I sniffled a few times, wiping my nose on the pillow. “I love him, Jember,” I whispered. It felt good to say out loud.

I was staring at the pillow, so I didn’t see Jember’s expression. But, for a moment, he had nothing to say. “Don’t cry,” he ordered finally. “No little boy is that important.”

He took the pillow from me and threw it back onto the bed. From the corner of my eye I saw his hand move toward me again, but by the time I’d looked up he had dropped it to his side.

“Why don’t you ever touch me?” I managed through my tight throat … although, God help me, it was tight with something more vicious than before. “I mean, I understand, your skin can’t take it. But you wear gloves all the time, and we’re wearing long sleeves. If you wanted to hug me you could. Or a pat on the back, even. God, I’d even accept a slap at this point.”

Jember tightened his lips to a thin line, letting out a slow huff through his nose. “Why do you care, all of a sudden? A few weeks off the street and your good survival habits have already become lax.”

“You raised me. Don’t you have any affection for me at all?”

“Yes, I raised you.” He lowered himself to the bed again. “That’s affection enough.”

“But you love Saba.”

“I never said that, you just assume—”

“Or you did, at one point. You haven’t forgotten those feelings, and you haven’t seen her since I’ve known you. So how can you have raised me for so long and feel absolutely nothing for me?”

“Did you hold on to the amulet you were constructing for the Evil Eye?”

He … completely ignored me. I sniffled, rage throbbing in my throat. “It’s in my bag.”

“You expect me to get up again? Let me see it.”

I pulled out the amulet, unfinished and blood smudged. Pathetic.

Jember took it from me. Flipped it over. Then he started miming the strokes in the air. “Wrong order,” he muttered, then continued. He ended with a long, thoughtful stare at it. “Not bad, girl,” he said, handing it back to me. “You were on the right track.”

“You changed the subject.”

“No, I didn’t. That conversation was finished.”

“I was just hoping that…” I picked at my nails. Why did I feel so nervous? So lost? “I don’t know. That maybe you loved me.”

We were quiet for a moment.

Jember pressed on his leg above his knee with a groan, massaging it with his fingers. “Most people start training in amulets when they’re sixteen. You ever wonder why you came to me so young?”

“You bought me from my birth parents.”

Bought you? When have I ever paid for anything? No, I stole you from the ones who bought you.”

“Why?”

“Because your parents sold you to a brothel. And you were five.” He shrugged, as if he wanted to be done thinking about it. “Your affinity for amulet construction was just a bonus.”

He groaned again, and I saw him wince as he leaned heavily on the bed. I knelt to remove his leg so he wouldn’t have to ask.

“I thought empathy was a poor survival habit,” I said.

“It is. You’ve caused me a lot of trouble over the years.” There was a spark of humor in Jember’s eyes before he took his leg from me and tapped me on the head with the thicker wooden end. I was lucky it was his leg and not something he could afford to break, but still, I felt myself grinning. “You want a bed to sleep in, girl? Then shut up and mind your business.”


This had always been my side of the bed. Mostly because it was easier for Jember to get into bed on the side closest to the door, so he wouldn’t have to scoot across it or walk around. But tonight, I couldn’t sleep.

Tonight? No. It was morning, though the shut door blocked out all hints of light. Magnus was probably awake now, unaware of what he’d done last night, wondering where I was. Meanwhile, I was back in my childhood home. Hiding.

I rolled onto my side. Jember lay on his back, his breath slightly jagged, an unintentional groan every other exhale. I don’t think I’d ever noticed how much pain he was actually in. He’d always come home after I fell asleep, wake up before me. Or he’d be so drunk he’d just pass out. I felt ignorant for thinking all this time that he was just a heavy sleeper. That those pills were more of a necessity than an addiction.

I sighed, rolling onto my back again. I couldn’t believe I was lying here, wasting my time feeling sorry for myself, when the people who needed me most were waiting for me.

If I cleansed the castle, Magnus would never have to worry about avoiding people ever again. He could join me in town. Among people. Or anywhere we wanted, really.

Saba’s soul would be free. I would miss her, but it was selfish to keep her here to be tortured by the Evil Eye’s commands.

And—something I hadn’t thought of before now—I could afford the best doctors for Jember. Someone who could help him with his pain, maybe make him a better leg. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so cranky.

There was no doubt I had to go back. But, this time, I needed a better plan. One that wouldn’t get anyone hurt or killed. Kelela had meant well in volunteering, but when it came down to it she’d panicked. The target had to be someone who could stay levelheaded, preferably someone who had experienced the hyena before and knew what to expect …

I looked at Jember, but quickly disregarded the idea. He’d never agree to it. And, with his injury, he wasn’t fast enough to keep himself from being killed before I could finish the amulet.

But … I was.

I sat up quickly, my mind suddenly clear.

I was fast. I could keep my head in the midst of stress. Having experienced the hyena multiple times, I knew what to expect. And Jember was faster at constructing amulets than I was, anyway, so I wouldn’t need to keep the hyena busy for long.

I took a deep breath, hugging my knees and closing my eyes. “God,” I whispered, “please let this be the right choice.”

Now all I had to do was convince Jember to come back with me. Which was the most tedious part of the plan, if I was being honest.

“Jember,” I whispered. I don’t know why I didn’t just yell. I needed him awake.

I shook his shoulder, and he swatted at my hand lazily. “Why are you bothering me before noon?”

“I’m going back to the castle.” I kicked the blanket away and rolled out of bed. “Will you take me?”

“Are you crazy?”

“Probably.”

Jember leaned up on his elbows with a long groan. “No boy is worth killing yourself over.”

“You’re the one who said I was on the right track.” I threw my satchel across my shoulders, put on my amulet. “I have part of the amulet done, I just have to finish it. Even if it takes a few days—”

“The Evil Eye isn’t some stupid Manifestation that follows a pattern. It’s a thinking creature that’s going to do whatever it takes not to be expelled.”

I pulled Jember’s peg leg out from under the bed. “All the more reason for you to come with me. Two debtera can do more than one.”

“God…” Jember let himself drop back onto the bed, pressing his hand into his forehead. “Your optimism is exhausting.”

“Are you going to help me? We have to go before the midday heat.” I opened the drawer to grab clothes for him. “Besides, you’re the only debtera in twenty years to—”

“I’m not going near that thing.”

“But together—”

“You don’t get it yet?” He sat up, slapping my assisting hand away. “I’m the only one to cleanse a house because I’m the only one who survived long enough to do it. And I barely escaped alive. This is not a fight you’re going to win, Andromeda.”

“I have to.” My words felt desperate. I knelt to attach his leg so he wouldn’t see my eyes tear up. “I can’t abandon the people I care about.”

He shoved me away with his leg as soon as I’d gotten it attached. “Go on, then. Get yourself killed.”

I pressed my lips together to keep them from trembling. “That includes you, you know. Do you know how much medical help we could get you with—”

“Stop,” he snapped, holding up his hand. “Just … stop.”

His voice had drifted from anger to something more melancholy, and it tightened my throat.

We were quiet for a minute.

“You’re going to go no matter what I say.”

I nodded. “I have to.”

“You don’t have to.” He leaned over and opened the drawer beside him. “Do you need money?”

I shook my head, a small ache in my heart. It suddenly occurred to me … he wasn’t going to come with me. My entire plan hinged on his cooperation.

Instead of money he took out an amulet. The silver was a little thicker than normal, and wrapped mostly with black and red thread, with a few bursts of gold. I’d never seen that amulet before—wait. Yes, I had. It was the new one I’d made, with added attributes. I could almost feel the power echo through it as it moved on the chain. If that couldn’t keep away the Evil Eye, I don’t know what could.

Although, part of me was annoyed that he’d made me struggle through making my own when he was just going to fix it for me, anyway.

“You save all the good techniques for yourself,” I said, smirking.

“Don’t be ungrateful” was all he said. I took it from him and hung it over my neck. “This is good-bye.”

“Come with me.”

“I can’t.” He shook his head, giving me a sad smile. “And I can’t function under optimism and hope the way you do. This is good-bye, Andi. I don’t expect to see you again.”

“Will you at least take me?” I asked. “If this really is good-bye?”

“Take you on what?” Jember scraped his hand through his beard with a heavy sigh. “It would go against all sane judgment, going near that house.” A heavy knock and his name made us both look at the door. His mentee was back—I’d forgotten about him, honestly, but it occurred to me only then that he’d been gone for hours. Hopefully he had the ten slabs of salt, if he knew what was good for him.

I could practically hear Jember roll his eyes with his sigh, and when I looked at him again he swallowed three pills with water then pointed at his boot. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”