I forced my teeth to unclench, and I shifted my grip on my mirror. “Now, Al?” I prompted, and Al slumped back in his chair again.

“Al?” I said again, louder, and he glanced at me, his fingers searching the chair cushion until he found a little tin of his Brimstone. Opening it, he sniffed a pinch up each nostril, his head going back as he closed his eyes and sighed. Great, now I was going to set the Brimstone dogs off at the coven’s meeting tomorrow.

“You do like doing things the hard way,” he said, eyes still closed.

“You said you’d send me back,” I warned him, and his head came down, his eyes looking a little redder than usual.

“I am, I am,” he said, but he was just sitting there, pinching the bridge of his nose. He did that only when I really screwed up. Like the time I used foxglove instead of peppermint, and the curse I was working on turned his ink into stone. “I don’t know if I should hope you win your bet or lose,” he finally said.

“Huh,” I said. “I thought you wanted me to lose.”

“I do,” he said, “but if you’re in reality, it will take longer for anyone to figure out that you were the one who made the hole in the fabric of time. Nice going, Rachel.”

Worry clenched my chest, and I set my mirror across my knees. “Why are you assuming it was me? Maybe it was Ku’Sox. He did make the arch fall down. I didn’t do anything that you didn’t do when you made a ley line.”

But Al was shaking his head. Sighing heavily, he let go of his nose. “I made my ley line while jumping from the ever-after to reality. You made yours jumping from reality to reality. It’s leaking.”

I licked my lips. “I guess the collective is going to be pissed, huh?”

His bark of laughter startled me, and I tried to hide my jump. “Yes, the collective is going to be pissed. I just hope I can find out how to fix it before they listen to Newt and realize she’s right.”

“U-uh…,” I stammered, and Al frowned at me.

“U-uh…,” he mocked, then reached beneath his chair to the bundle that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Here. You’re going to need this for your hanging tomorrow.”

I caught the cloth-wrapped package he threw at me, scrambling so as not to lose my hold on the mirror. “What is it?” I asked, thinking it was too heavy to be someone’s head.

His red eyes landed on me, seeing me scared, cold, and disheveled. “You are a mess. Wear it. I’m not picking you up tomorrow in rags.”

“Hey! I have a chance here, you know. This is supposed to be a formality!”

He grinned at me with his blocky teeth. “You don’t have a rainbow’s chance in hell to get your shunning revoked,” he said, fingering a marshmallow before dropping it back into the bowl. “You just traipsed across the continent, black magic spilling in your wake, freeing demons and destroying a national monument. You knocked out a coven member. Kidnapped her. Let her watch you use demon magic to fight off said freed demon. Twice. Hell, girl, you burned down Margaritaville!” His smile widened. “You are so screwed,” he said, hitting his Brit accent hard.