Sal nodded to the stall across the alley. He had a point, but everyone around here knew—and admired—Claudia’s aunt Carolina as “the schemer.” Only wealthy people who enjoyed a stroll through the crowded marketplace paid her inflated prices, though. I imagined it had more to do with the fact she’d spelled the items to be irresistible to certain clientele. I fought the urge to look toward her booth, just in case she called me over to ask how my demon summoning went.

Even practitioners of the dark arts feared the Wicked.

I handed Sal the coins and shoved the shirt into my sack, grumbling the entire time. As much as I’d love to stay and haggle over the poor excuse for clothing, the sun would slip past the horizon soon, and I needed to make sure the demon was still trapped in the circle.

I hurried through the rush of the early evening crowd, ignoring people calling out for me to sample cheese, try their street food, or buy a lovely set of earrings. Unless they could sell me a demon spell to unlock my sister’s diary, I wasn’t interested.

“Emilia?”

I halted at the end of the street that eventually turned into the steep, winding path of the abandoned cavern. Maybe I’d imagined her voice. I closed my eyes, praying I had. I wasn’t ready for this meeting and even if I was, I was running out of daylight. Wicked creatures came out in the dark, and I knew at least one who wanted to slip his leash.

“Emilia! It is you, thank the stars. I’ve been hoping to see you here.”

I took a deep breath and pivoted to face my friend. “Hi, Claudia. How—”

She crushed me in a hug, her sudden tears soaking my collar. “It’s been a whole month and I still can’t believe it. Even after seeing her laid to rest.” Claudia stepped back and shook her dark curls. Her hair was shorter than the last time I’d seen her. It looked good. “I’ve had the strangest . . . dreams lately. My aunt thinks they’re urgent messages.”

We both scanned the street, but no one was near enough to overhear us. By “dreams” my friend meant “visions.” Claudia’s magic worked best with scrying. Sometimes her visions were more than visions. And other times they weren’t. The trouble was, we could never tell which was a gift from the goddess of sight and premonitions and which was purely her imagination.

I hated that I’d left her alone to worry over potential meanings. Vittoria used to jot notes and ask a hundred different questions. I desperately wished she were by my side now.

“What did you see?”

Claudia glanced around. “It’s more a warning than a true vision, I think.”