Hands going to her shoulders, I pushed us apart. “I need your help,” I said, heart breaking. “I need to get small. I have to save Jenks.”

With my peripheral sight, I saw Sidereal turn, shushing the fairy woman he was talking to. Ceri’s eyes widened, and dropping back a step she asked, “Why?”

Desperation turned to frustration. “Why? He won’t come out, and I have to tell him it’s going to be okay,” I said. “Shrink me down so I can fit in his stump. Can you do it?”

Pierce’s voice rose over the distance, telling me that either he was using his magic to listen in, or Ivy was relaying the conversation. “Make me small as well!” he shouted, voice softening as he got closer. “I’m going with her.”

I watched Pierce and Ivy step over the wall. From grave to garden in one movement. When I turned back, Ceri’s eyes were a deep green with tears, but her face was resolute. “Rachel,” she said, taking my hand and holding it. “I understand this is hard. For you especially, having lost so many already, but who are you doing this for?”

Doubt hit me, followed quickly by resolve. “What do you mean, who am I doing this for?” I said, imagining his heartache, alone in his stump with Matalina and thinking his life was over. “Jenks kept me alive for two years through two death threats, a crazy banshee, and at least two serial killers. It’s about time I return the favor! And if I can’t, then I can sit by his bed and hold his hand as he dies, ’cause I’ve had plenty of practice doing that, too!”

Crap, I was crying again, but Ceri shook her head, eyes downcast. “I understand your frustration, but he’s lost, Rachel,” she said. “I’m sorry.” Her gaze shifted behind me to Ivy and Pierce. “There will be no others like them,” she whispered.

“He’s not dead yet!” I shouted in sudden anger, born of helplessness. “Matalina wanted him to live on, and you’ve already got him in the ground, you cold, unfeeling bitch!”

“Rachel!” Ivy exclaimed, and immediately I relented.

“Ceri, I’m sorry,” I said with a bad grace. “I didn’t mean that. But Jenks is alone.” My eyes started to fill again, and I wiped a hand over them. “He shouldn’t be.”

“I understand,” she said stiffly. “It’s the grief speaking. You do realize, none of this would have happened if you had killed the fairies.”

My jaw clenched, and I turned away. I suppose I deserved it after calling her a bitch. Depressed, I sat, slumped, at the picnic table, as far from the fairies as I could get. This was so wrong. Jenks thought he was alone, and unless I could get in there, he would be. Damn it, he couldn’t die. He couldn’t! And not alone.