“It’s mine,” I rushed. “He gave it to me. Made me take it. He sleeps in the closet.”

“You make him sleep in a closet? Very good. You might survive him after all.”

I edged closer to look down at Al, the bed between Newt and me. “It’s not really a closet. I just call it that. It’s a tiny nine by twelve I got for making Tron that car.”

“Oh.” Her hand touched Al’s, turning it over as if looking for the ring on my thumb.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Again, Newt blinked at me, her eyes looking almost normal in the dim light. “You care?” Her gaze was on the ring he had given me, and I hid it behind my other hand. My thoughts went to Celfnnah, but I wasn’t going to ask Newt.

From the bed, Al’s voice rasped out, “Of course she cares. I’m a god to her.”

“Al!” I leaned forward over him, and he squirmed as if hurt.

“Mother pus bucket,” he swore, running a sweat-stained, dirt-caked hand over his forehead. “I feel like I’ve been across a cheese grater several times in quick succession.” His gaze sharpened, and he tried to sit up, panic edging him. “Where are my rings? My rings!”

“Here,” I said as Newt forced him to lie back down, and I wedged both rings off my finger and thumb, dropping them into his waiting palm. He slumped, eyes closing as his thick fingers wrapped around them. His hand was shaking, and I remembered the pain we’d shared. Taking that doubled would have killed me.

“I let go of him,” I said, backing up from the bed and feeling as if this was my fault. “I had to. I couldn’t pull him through to reality while the sun was up. I had to let go so I could move to the ever-after to get him!”

“Stop babbling,” Al grumped, trying to smack Newt’s hand away as she tried to see his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. Let me sleep.” He opened an eye to glare at Newt. “What is your problem, bitch?”

Newt stopped trying to lift his eyelids, and I shut my mouth.

“I’m not babbling,” I said, sounding sullen even to myself.

Still sitting on the edge of the bed, Newt tucked the covers to his chin. “Good thought, bad implementation.”

It looked as if he was going to be okay, and I wondered if Newt had seen the bottom of a purple line once and survived. “Can I do anything?” I asked.

“You? No,” Newt said. “But I have an aura that I can give Al if—”

“No!” both Al and I exclaimed, and she looked insulted, standing up to smooth her robe.