My nerves were wound tight before the LaLaurie Mansion, but now they’ve officially snapped. “This isn’t working,” I say. “We tried waiting. And it hasn’t come.”

“Maybe it gave up,” says Jacob. “Maybe it’s like a game of hide-and-seek, and we hid long enough, and now the game’s over.”

“Do you honestly believe that?” asks Lara.

Jacob frowns. “It could be true.”

But we all know it’s not.

And we all know what we have to do. We have to get Death’s attention.

Jacob, of course, thinks it’s a bad idea.

“No,” he says, “I think it’s a really bad idea. Like, a monumentally bad idea. First, it’s dangerous. Second, it’s full of things that could go wrong. And third, I hate it.” He sighs. “But if this is what we have to do, let’s do it. Um … how do we do it?”

We stop at the corner, and I look up and down the streets. They’re crowded with cars and carriages and people. Jazz fills the air, along with laughter and horns. The Quarter is busy today.

“It’s here somewhere,” I say. “It has to be. So why isn’t it showing up?”

“It’s too crowded,” says Lara, gesturing at the street. “The girl with the Rubik’s Cube yesterday, Hazel? She said that New Orleans was a good place to hide, because it’s so busy. And we’ve spent all day in crowded places. So if we don’t want to hide, we need to find somewhere quiet.”

I nod. “So that we stand out. Like I did in the graveyard.”

We discuss going to St. Louis or Lafayette, but it’s a Sunday, and the weather is cooler, which means the cemeteries will be packed with tourists.

“What about a séance?” asks Jacob.

Lara rolls her eyes. “I told you those aren’t real,” she says, and she’s right. But so is Jacob. After all, we had a séance, and the Emissary came. Sure, it was only a voice, but it found me there.

I don’t think we need all the bells and whistles of a séance. Maybe we just need to use the room in the Hotel Kardec.

My spirits lift, until Jacob reminds me it’s locked up. Off-limits.

I groan, running my hands through my hair as we start walking again.

Think, think.

The Veil rises and falls around me, carrying smoke and jazz, and the whispers I’ve come to recognize as Jackson Square. I slam to a stop. Turn left. And there it is, on the edge of the square.

Muriel’s.

Muriel’s, with its ivy-strewn restaurant, and its large stairs, and the weird, antique-filled room up top.

The séance room.

I glance at Lara and Jacob. “Follow me.”

Chapter Nineteen

The downstairs restaurant is packed for lunch. We head straight for the staircase, but a waiter stops us.