I turned to the book, not seeing the print. Flipping a page, I felt the tingle of black magic stab my burned fingers. Hissing, I curled my hand into a fist and shoved the book away. I flopped back angrily into the chair, almost knocking myself backward. I knew how to fix the line, but not without Bis. I could get Bis back, but only if I fixed the line.

Jenks and Belle were in the hall, Belle’s lisping whispers obvious but not clear enough to decipher. Depressed, I slumped. I was ruining everyone’s day. Yay, me. I was still staring at the faded demon print when Jenks edged into the kitchen, looking as meek as a flying man capable of lobotomizing fairies in his sleep could. “Ah, how you doing, Rache?”

My teeth were clenched, and I forced them apart. “Fine.” F’ed IN the Extreme, as Ivy would say. I should have called her yesterday, not three hours ago. She was on her way back, but it would take a bit.

Jenks hesitated, then dropped down beside me, wings flat against his back. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. I knew he meant to be encouraging, but it grated like fish scales.

I stared at the wall, my throat closing. Jenks’s kids were soulfully watching from the hallway, sitting on the lintel with their dust like tinsel.

“I’m not Ivy, but I bet we can come up with something,” he said.

I managed to dredge up a smile from somewhere. “I don’t know where to start,” I said as I closed the book. The binding cracked, and I didn’t care.

“When was the last time you ate?”

I listlessly picked at the binding, then quit when I realized it was probably someone’s skin. “I don’t know. Last year, maybe?”

He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “I’ll call for takeout. What sounds good?”

I knew he was trying to be helpful. It bothered him that he couldn’t do anything for me or for Bis, and that the two worlds were about to collide in a big, kind of permanent way. I simply couldn’t find the strength to meet his hesitant smile with my own.

“I’m not hungry,” I said, and his dust faltered as his smile faded. I couldn’t eat knowing that Bis was scared. My failings had put him there. Trent must be frantic about Lucy and Ceri. I didn’t know how he had managed it, remaining calm when he drove me back home.

Silent, Jenks sat on the book, wings unmoving. My chamomile tea grew cold beside me. “I know it hurts,” Jenks said, but I couldn’t look up. “Remember when you told me I’d find a way to live without Matalina?”

My head jerked up. “Bis isn’t dead.”