“Ivy? Ivy!” I called, picking her head up only to ease it back down. It hurt just to kneel. Pulling her head up onto my lap wasn’t going to happen, and I brushed the hair from her face.

“She took a spell for me,” Pierce said from the front of the church. He was poised at the door, pixies flowing in and out around him, standing with a ball of black magic in his hand and the wind shifting his dark hair as he looked out. His face was calm, and his eyes were hard.

“She stepped right in front of it and took it for me,” he explained as he turned to me. “Even then, she kept coming like a caution until the harlot was obliged to use a ley-line sleep charm to down her.”

“Is she okay?” I looked at Ivy, seeing her hardly breathing. “Can you break them? “I asked, scared, and he nodded.

“If I work directly upon it. The first was to slow her heart.”

“That doesn’t sound bad,” I said, and Pierce looked up, his gaze worried under his bangs.

“Singly it isn’t, but together? If I can’t break them, she’ll die,” he said bluntly.

I felt myself go ashen. In the street, a car accelerated away. Vivian was gone.

“But they’re white spells,” I said, then thought about it. Alone, the charms were white, but together, the combination of low blood pressure and sleep could put her in a coma. “Pierce?” I warbled. Ivy couldn’t die. I couldn’t live with her if she was undead.

“Let me work,” he said tightly, and I took a deep breath, feeling helpless. There was a red haze in the air that reminded me of the ever-after, and the shadow of the church’s cross that once hung over the absent altar seemed to glow.

“Jenks!” I shouted, heart pounding as Pierce knelt with Ivy between us. The pixies were loud, and I wished they’d shut up. “Jenks!” I shouted again. “Get in here!” I knew I should be worried about his kids and Bis, but I couldn’t leave Ivy.

Pierce’s expression was empty, and I felt him draw heavily on the ley line. His hands moved in a start-and-stop motion over Ivy, as if he was unsure. There was a flash of dragonfly wings, and Jenks was back, spilling dust on Ivy in his agitation. “Sorry, Rache,” he said, his sword red with blood. “I was making sure it was just the one. She waited until it was only my kids, then came in the front, bold as brass. Tink’s a Disney whore, she broke the window. We’ll never find a replacement for it.” Excited, he looked down. “How’s Ivy?”

“She took two spells. Pierce is breaking them.”

“Spells? She’s okay, isn’t she?”