“It’s a very noble trait,” said Jackie. I studied her and couldn’t tell if she was lying either. It made the temptation to switch to aura vision that much stronger. She watched as Sydney helped patch Trey up. “Do you need anything else? Any of you? I admit, I feel rather useless.”

“You were the hostess,” said Sydney, stepping back as Trey put his shirt back on. “You’ve done plenty.”

“Well, I’m happy to do more if you guys want to stay for a while.”

Judging from the way Wolfe’s eyebrow rose over his eye patch, the only person he envisioned staying longer was himself.

“We need to get going,” I said, speaking for all of us. If Jackie gave Sydney permission to be out, I supposed we could theoretically use the time to sneak a bit to eat. Even Trey could come. I really didn’t care, so long as it gave me a few more precious moments with Sydney. A buzz on her cell phone told me that wasn’t an option. She checked the display and sighed.

“Yikes. This is the fourth one Zoe’s sent. I didn’t hear them over the needle.” She put the phone away. “I’m sure I’ll get an earful for being out this late.”

“Don’t go home,” I said impulsively. Trey was asking Wolfe a question, and I leaned close to Sydney’s ear. “Escape plan number thirty‑one: We’ll get in my car and won’t stop until we’re somewhere safe.”

The love that answered me in her eyes had an almost tangible quality, and I had to fight the urge to hold her. “We’d have to stop a dozen times. Your car gets terrible gas mileage.”

We walked out with Trey, who was handling all this surprisingly well for someone who got roped into an experiment he knew very little about. At first, I assumed it was just because he had that kind of faith in Sydney. Then I realized there was more to it.

“You’ve made my day letting me meet that guy,” Trey told her. “Maybe my year. He’s unreal. And he and Ms. T. . . . they’re really . . .?”

Sydney winced. “I think so.”

She walked out with Trey, giving me one last look, and I waited inside a couple of minutes, just so we wouldn’t be seen leaving together. Even in a strange neighborhood like this, we couldn’t take any chances. I knew I’d see her soon if I was able to pull off the dream, but that sense of melancholy clung to me over the frustrating state of our relationship. I didn’t want a dream. I wanted reality, and having it beyond my grasp bit at me deeply. Einstein had been right. The prescription might take the edge off, but there was no getting rid of your emotions. They were part of being alive.

Back at my place, I kept an eye on the clock, trying to gauge how long it would take Sydney to get to her room and go to sleep. She’d said we’d talk about the spirit dream later, but since we hadn’t, I was reading that as a go‑ahead. I was tired myself–a new experience–yet insanely anxious and curious about whether or not I’d be able to create the dream. I knew there’d be no shame in telling Sydney the truth. She’d understand and even be proud of what I’d done. But it was a reminder of my own initial fears about taking the mood stabilizer: that in freeing myself of spirit’s darkness, I’d also lose the ability to help those I cared about.

When enough time had passed, I relaxed into the meditative state necessary for dream walking. Reaching within myself, I pulled on the magic that slept inside me, the spirit tied into my life essence. I didn’t come up empty, not exactly, but it was like trying to grasp water in your palm. It kept slipping through my fingers. Panic began to move through me, and I staunchly refused to let it get the best of me. Just like with my professor and the aura, I kept trying and trying to grip the magic. There was even less of it than I’d had then, and a spirit dream required far more than viewing an aura. Nonetheless, I was finally able to spin enough into the foundation of a dream. My bedroom vanished, and I found myself standing in the Getty Villa’s courtyard. Only, it looked nothing like it. The world around me flickered and faded, like bad TV reception. And it took every ounce of my energy to maintain even that shoddy of an effort. Wasting no more time, I pulled Sydney into it.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking around in surprise.

“I’m tired,” I said. “Downside of my new and improved sleeping habits.”

I saw the slightest glimmer of doubt in her eyes, and I could guess her thoughts. “I haven’t been drinking, Sage. I swear it. I really am just worn out. Let’s get Robin Hood in here fast because I don’t know how long I can do this.”

She looked concerned but nodded in agreement. Reaching out to another person proved even more difficult, and it again took a few false starts, earning more surprise from Sydney. Eventually, Marcus appeared, and although his form was slightly insubstantial, his smirk was as annoying as ever.

“I wondered when you guys would come calling again.” He frowned at the flickering surroundings. “What’s going on?”

“It’s not important,” I said preemptively. “And we’re short on time.”

Sydney took the cue and quickly told Marcus the new developments. Seeing him gape almost made the effort I was exerting worthwhile. “You actually did it? And used it? Did it work?”

“I don’t know yet,” Sydney admitted. “So far, everything’s gone as planned–and it doesn’t show up on the skin. It’s more or less invisible.” Marcus lit up at that. One drawback of the indigo ink was that it made Alchemist rebels pretty conspicuous. “I’ve got a few other . . . experiments to do on my friend. But I feel pretty good about it, and as long as I can make the time, producing more ink for you shouldn’t be a problem. When will you be back?”

“We expect to cross back in El Paso this week,” he said. “We’ve got a new person to ‘rescue,’ and then I should be able to make my way to you. Maybe a week and a half? Two at most? You think you’d have something by then?”

She nodded. “Should be able to have the Alchemist ink for sure.” I could tell by a catch in her voice that she was still trying to figure out how to make the original compulsion ink. “We can set up a drop at Adrian’s. Do you remember where he lives?”

“How could I forget?” Marcus rolled his eyes. “Such fond memories of throwing him around there.”

“Hey,” I said warningly. “I threw you  around.”

Sydney shot us both chastising looks. “I’ll make sure it’s there. Do you have cell phones yet?”

“No, but we will when we’re back in the States, and Sabrina still has your contact information, so I can get it from her. We’ll get in touch and finalize things.”

“Are we good then?” I asked. I was actually sweating. “I need to get some sleep.”

“We should be,” said Sydney, eyes worried as she looked me over. “Get in touch as soon as you can, Marcus.”

“I will,” he promised.

I took that as a dismissal and let him fade away. I could see from Sydney’s face that she wanted to talk to me, but something was buzzing in my head, and I lost my remaining control on the dream. It fell to pieces around us, and I was just barely able to tell her, “We’ll talk tomorrow.” She grew translucent and disappeared.

When I came to in the real world, I discovered the buzzing I’d heard was from my cell phone, which I’d left on vibrate on my bedside table. I was surprised to see Lissa’s name on the display and answered with shaking hands, astonished at how exhausted I felt.

“Kind of late for you, isn’t it, Your Majesty?”

“You’re on a human schedule,” she reminded me, amusement in her voice.

“Ah. Right. It all starts to run together after a while. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Nothing social, I’m afraid. You’re not going to like this, but I’ve got to play the queen card and summon you to Court. I know it’s a pain. I know, and I’m sorry. Really.”

“What’s going on?” Dread built in my stomach.

“Sonya wants your help on what to do with Olive and the blood. She says the magic is starting to fade out from it, and no one knows how to stop it.”