“All of it. It’s rather exhilarating,” she says, and then, seeing my face, she quickly adds, “if you don’t think too hard about why we’re doing it.”

Lara draws a groove in the grave dirt, a narrow channel that goes all the way around the circle, and I pour the oil in, careful to save enough that it will reach, from start to end. When it’s lit, the oil will burn through the grave dirt, creating a line of fire and ash, life and death, and when it does, it should cut the line between the Emissary and me.

As long as the Emissary is standing inside the circle.

Now all we have to do is lure it here, and get it to pass within the circle, and light the oil, and burn the space between us clean.

Oh no. This is a terrible idea.

It will never work.

It will never—

“It will,” says Jacob firmly. “It has to.”

He heads out into the lounge to be our lookout, for both humans and Emissaries, and after that, there’s nothing to do but wait.

So we wait.

Lara wanders the room, admiring the strange and morbid decorations. I perch on the edge of a velvet sofa, get up, switch to a chair, get up again, unable to sit still. Silence settles over us like a sheet, and my ears adjust, not only to the Veil, but to the sounds in the living world.

The tinny old-fashioned music that drifts through the room.

The guests outside, murmuring as they reach the EMPLOYEES ONLY sign, saying that they thought it was open before drifting back downstairs.

The faint groan of the floorboards as Jacob rocks back and forth on his heels beyond the door.

“ ‘Because I could not stop for Death,’ ” says Lara under her breath, “ ‘He kindly stopped for me. The Carriage held but just Ourselves, and Immortality.’ ”

I stare at her for a long moment.

“Emily Dickinson,” she says, as if that explains everything.

She goes quiet after that, and we wait for what feels like an hour, but, according to a clock on the wall, is only about ten minutes.

Jacob drifts back into the room. “Nothing,” he says, looking nervous. “What now?”

My heart sinks. All of this, for nothing. We can’t get oil back into the bottle. We can’t get the grave dirt back into the bag. We have to go through with this. We have to get the Emissary here. Now.

I get to my feet.

“Where are you going?” asks Lara.

“Into the Veil.” Jacob and Lara both look horrified, so I explain. “We need to get the Emissary’s attention, right? Well, Renée said the light in my chest was a beacon. That if I go into the Veil, I’ll stand out, and it will be easier for the Emissary to find me.”

“Right,” says Lara.

“So … if you want to catch a fish …”