Melissa stirred. You’ve decided to join us, after all?

“Yes. And no. Not exactly.”

Even though she was sheer, I could still see the outline of Melissa’s frown. I don’t understand, she said, obviously prompting me to clarify.

Here was my chance, then. Everyone’s fate hinged on what I asked right now, and what Melissa answered. I stood taller—as tall as I possibly could—and stared directly into what I assumed were her eyes.

“I want to repeat what I asked you the other night: I want you to let me try to save the living people I love, before I join you. And I want you to allow everyone that I save in the netherworld, and even in hell, to join me in heaven too.”

Melissa began to whisper a protest, but I cut her off. “Please, just listen to my full request before you deny it. Please?”

Melissa paused and, after another moment’s hesitation, nodded. So, like I had done for my mother earlier that morning, I told Melissa about each part of my plan. I described my first line of defense, which included the young Seers and their newly acquired glows, as well as my second, darker plot, which included my mother, Felix’s gun, and as much Transfer Powder as I could steal from Annabel’s jar before that night’s attack. And also like I had done that morning, I admitted each thing that could—and probably would—go wrong.

Melissa listened just as patiently as my mother had, nodding occasionally without interrupting me. But unlike my mother, Melissa refused to give me a straight answer once I’d finished.

An interesting plan, Melissa whispered. I look forward to seeing how it plays out.

“‘How it plays out’? What is that supposed to mean?”

Melissa didn’t really react to my shrill tone. Instead, she shrugged and then whispered, It means that we’ll be watching to see what you can accomplish tonight. Particularly with regard to this bridge and the hell gate.

“You’re . . . you’re going to ‘watch’?” I gasped. “Without telling me whether or not you’ll take the people I try to save? Including myself?”

Melissa tilted her head to the side but said nothing. I saw her gesture for what it was, though. This was her wordless way of telling me that the light intended to adopt the “wait and see” approach to my loved ones. To me.

I sputtered, at a loss for what to say next. But I wasn’t stunned or even cowed by Melissa’s lack of an answer—I was furious. I felt so angry, so indignant, that I thought I would ignite right there on the riverbank. I was fairly certain that if I opened my mouth to speak, I might literally choke on my words.

But as quickly as my anger built, it disappeared, as though something had simply drained it out of me. Where I’d previously felt fire, I now felt only a cold sense of numbness.

Of resignation.

I dropped my gaze from Melissa, back to the riverbank below me, and nodded. “All right,” I said softly. “You’ll watch.”

My desolation must have finally affected Melissa, because the breeze suddenly sounded like a sympathetic sigh. I thought, for a desperate second, that she might actually answer me—at least give me the courtesy of a no. But when the breeze sighed again, it sounded different, like the kind of noise someone makes when they know that the person they are looking at is dying.

I glanced up and saw that Melissa had vanished. Left me with nothing but an empty riverbank and a fading breeze that sounded an awful lot like, Good luck.

Of course, that might have just been a trick of the wind.

Chapter

TWENTY-EIGHT

I made it back to the Mayhews’ gazebo just in time to smell something delicious wafting out the open windows of the kitchen. Despite everything I’d been through that morning, the thought of lunch still set my mouth to watering.

My knock on the back door was quickly answered by Jeremiah, who looked a little cheerier than he had that morning. “Amelia, hi,” he greeted me, holding open the door for me. “Are you joining us for lunch, too?”

“I didn’t mean to intrude, Mr. Mayhew. I just . . . um . . . forgot that I left my shoes up in Jillian’s room. My mom will string me up if I don’t get her nice black heels back to her.” I blushed furiously as I followed him inside, feeling more than a little guilty about the lie.

Jeremiah didn’t seem to notice the deception. He nodded distractedly, moving through the back hallway toward the kitchen.

“Understood,” he said. “Rebecca wants to string Jillian up on a daily basis. But just so you know, you really are welcome to join us for lunch; I’m already feeding half the family anyway.”

He wasn’t wrong: inside the kitchen, Joshua and Jillian were once again sitting at the table, digging into a huge, intoxicating-looking bowl of their father’s crawfish étoufée. As were Annabel, Hayley, Drew, and Felix; apparently, they’d finished with their keg-fetching errand and were now starving. I didn’t see Rebecca anywhere—she’d probably already gone to her warehouse, to organize flowers for prom.

“I think I will join them,” I told Jeremiah, eyeing the étoufée lustfully. He gave me a distracted wave as he turned his attention to a stack of papers on what I’d come to think of as the business end of the kitchen island.

“No problem.” Then he looked briefly up at me. “Are you going with them tonight? To prom?”

I tried very hard not to look surprised. This was our cover story, then: that the young Mayhews and their dates would attend prom, instead of a diabolical dogfight. In a way, it was perfect. Jeremiah and Rebecca would be too distracted by the endless corsage orders to demand group photos from us before “prom.” They also wouldn’t be too surprised when their kids stayed out late tonight. I just hoped that the young Seers had thought to tell their older family members that we’d be putting on our formal wear in some other location; otherwise, someone might get suspicious that we were going to prom in jeans and hoodies.

“Of course,” I finally replied, flashing Jeremiah my most convincing smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Then, head down, I hurried to the table. All the seats were taken, but Felix—still trying to make up for the other night, I think—gave me his so that I now faced Joshua. He smiled warmly at me, but the expression was just a shade too brittle, as though Joshua had already started counting the minutes that we had left together. Which, like me, I’m sure he had.

Unaware of our little drama, Felix shifted to one side, waiting until Jeremiah seemed otherwise occupied to lean close to the table.

“Maybe we should all spend the rest of the afternoon preparing?” he whispered. “For prom and the . . . bonfire afterward? And maybe we could do that near ‘our’ fire pit?”

Judging by everyone else’s nods, they also knew what Felix meant—that we should go discuss tonight’s game plan. Then, after recruiting at prom this evening, we should go back to Robber’s Cave and start doing our Transfer Powder spells. I didn’t disagree, but I wasn’t necessarily ready to leave the Mayhews’ house. Not when I only had maybe an hour or two left to spend with Joshua, alone.

“Why don’t you guys go on ahead?” I suggested. “Joshua and I will be . . . at the cabins soon.”

Annabel shot me a mildly insulting look. “Um . . . Amelia?” she prompted, in a condescending tone. “You’re sort of a . . . crucial part of this whole ‘prom and bonfire’ experience.”

To my credit, I didn’t scowl or even smirk at her. I just shook my head and smiled lightly.