“It’s a nasty brew too,” she says. “Calls for sap from a rare tree that’s toxic when measured wrong or heated too much. One misstep or improper ingredient and it could have killed you. Potions are a precise art.”

My fingers find my throat and I’m suddenly more aware of how hard my heart beats in my chest. How badly the Chancellor wants to stop it.

“The one good thing about memory potions is they wear off,” she says. “It’ll come back in pieces… eventually. You’re probably having random visions now.”

I nod. “But why would he want me to forget temporarily? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe he gave it to you for the side effects? To weaken you. So you couldn’t escape?” Her eyes tilt down. “Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Nothing. It’s dumb.”

“Unless what, Bri?”

She meets my eyes hesitantly. “U-unless, he wanted you to forget because… you’ll be dead before remembering matters.”

A knock at the door startles me, and my pulse slows when I see Jhamal. Bati is with him and the remnants of their conversation stain their expressions.

“Jelani.” Bati’s smile is warm, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The worry dug into his forehead is permanently etched there. And to a degree… I did that.

“Bati.” I slap his hand and pull him into another hug, hoping at least the appearance of being okay convinces him. And maybe even me. His shoulders shake with laughter and his eyes crease.

“Is that one of those homeboy hugs like you do?”

“Something like that.” I usher them inside.

“Speaking of East Row, I have to meet this Ms. Leola you tell me about one day. Is that how I greet her?”

“Nah, you can just take off your hat and say wassup. That’s how the old gangstas do it.”

“Then I’ll write that down somewhere, yes,” he says. His joy makes the brick on my chest sit a little lighter. Moms always said laughter is its own kind of medicine. I’d love for everyone here to meet everyone back home. I mean, we family. But those are dreams floating on the wind, make-believe at this point.

“I was just going over things with Bri. I’m trying to find a spell to restore our people’s magic,” I say.

Bati and Jhamal share a glance.

“The Chancellor is coming, don’t get it twisted,” I say. “This really needs to be our first priority.”

“Very good, then,” Bati says. “Dreams of our people fully wielding magic again have always been just that. Dreams. But if it is as you say, a way, I have no doubt the Ancestors will lead you to it, and us through it.” He bows his head. But because it’s Bati and I know he’s cool, I don’t bite my tongue.