“Oh. Shit.” I breathed, arms shaking as I tried to push myself up, failing. That’s okay. It’s nice just to lie here.

“Rachel!” I heard Bis cry. Al snarled something, then bellowed in pain. And then Bis was with me. “Rachel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” I said, hoping he didn’t touch me. I’d freaking pass out. My eyes were shut, and slowly my mind was rebuilding itself. A savage smile curled my lips up. I had done it. Damn it, I had jumped the lines!

“Brooke, there’s two of them!” I heard Vivian exclaim, but I couldn’t move yet.

“Only one of them is Rachel,” Brooke snapped.

“Which one?”

Bis hissed, and I heard a scraping of claws. A sharp sound of a smack, and a feminine hand grabbed my wrist. “Ow!” I yelped as Al, looking exactly like me, jerked me up.

“I’d say the one not in charge,” Brooke said, sounding smug.

My breath came fast, and I scanned the dirty, rectangular room as I found my balance: wood floor with a glowing pentagram laid down with salt, cement-stone walls, low ceilings, really small windows, and a broken table shoved against the big archway leading to a balcony barely big enough to stand on. I could hear water running over rocks somewhere in the dusk. Bis was slumped against the far wall by the stairs, shaking off Al’s blow. Brooke and Vivian were standing before us, Vivian looking like she wished she were somewhere—anywhere—else, the skin around her neck red and blistered from being pixed, her clothes a mess, and her heels scuffed. She’d been taking a beating the last couple of days, and it showed.

Al had already gotten out of Brooke’s circle by all appearances. No wonder, seeing that he looked like me in black leather and a TAKATA STAFF T-shirt. How had he known what shirt I was going to wear? And where am I? I thought, still confused.

It looked like a bad Hollywood set lit by candles, smelling of spilled wax, dirt, burnt amber, and mold. It was the last one that did it. “Holy crap, are we at Loveland Castle?” I asked, and Al gave me a shake, swinging my attention back to him. Or me, maybe. Damn, he’d even done the eyes this time, and it was like looking in a mirror.

“What the Turn are you doing, jumping with an untrained gargoyle?” he said as he held me up by one shoulder. “You could have killed yourself!”

I couldn’t focus well yet, and my stomach lurched. “Well, maybe you should teach me how, then.” My bile rose, and I forced it down. I was not going to barf on Al. Not in front of Brooke. Maybe later. Where’s my pain amulet?