I spoke to my knees. “If I get you to the West Coast by Sunday, you have to promise to help me at the coven meeting. I need them to reinstate my citizenship that you pushed them into revoking and guarantee that everyone stops gunning for me.” Heart pounding, I looked up. “If I can’t beat this, I’m permanently in the ever-after.” I was going to regret this. I knew it.

“I didn’t know that,” he said, looking like he was realigning his thinking.

He went to say something more, but Jenks had dropped down through the open roof to hover between us. “You ready to go, Rache?” he asked, looking far too bright and eager.

“Yes,” I said, tired as I gathered my bag to myself again. “We need to talk. I’m going to get Trent to the coast. I’m going to need your help, and don’t try to stop me.”

The pixy put his hands on his hips and grinned at me. “I know.”

My lips parted, and I stared at him. I know? He’d said, I know? “Who are you, and how did you kill my partner?” I said, and Jenks spilled a silver dust.

“Cookie farts is right,” he said. “Neither of you will make it out there without the other. And me, to help.”

A huge sigh came from Trent instead of the expected bad temper at the slur. His eyes were closed, and when they opened, there was hope—it made him look more powerful yet. “We can leave within the hour,” he said, opening the door. “They won’t be expecting that.”

I wondered if he meant they as in the Withons or they as in the coven.

Trent was gone, his door thumping shut. Jenks shot out of the roof. Scrambling, I worked the door and got out, blinking as I emerged in the sun. “They won’t be expecting it because it’s a stupid idea,” I said, seeing Trent beside Ivy and Quen. “I need to go home and pack again,” I said, striding to the trunk of my mom’s car. “Jenks needs to find a babysitter.”

Ivy shifted my garment bag to show two suitcases, my old blue one and the other I’d seen in the trunk of Trent’s car. It had to be Trent’s. What was my old suitcase doing here? And Trent’s? That was Trent’s, wasn’t it?

“You’ve got your dress,” Ivy said as I stared. “And everything you packed for the airplane is in your blue bag.”

“Wha-what was in my checked luggage?” I stammered.

Ivy gave me one of her few full smiles. “Magazines,” she said matter-of-factly. “They weren’t going to let you get on that plane,” she said coaxingly when my brow furrowed, “so sue me for thinking ahead. I just moved everything you packed to a different bag. I thought we’d hit the train station next, but this is better.”

Not believing this was happening, I looked at everyone in turn, feeling like I’d been manipulated. “What about Jenks and his kids?” I asked.