As soon as I hung up, Lena reached back to hand me a packet of Saltines, followed by a two-liter bottle of Sprite. “I know how you get after too much magic. We’re in a hurry, and we don’t have time to stop at Urgent Care to get you rehydrated.”

I made a face, but untwisted the cap and forced myself to take a swallow. I washed down three crackers, then massaged my fingers. The numbness had faded a bit with sleep, and the flesh had regained some of its normal coloring. I grabbed Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said. I didn’t need to create anything new; I simply had to tap into the tracking spells I’d created before.

The one I’d planted within Deb was easy to find, like a flashlight shining directly into my eyes. The siren was more like a firefly flickering at the edge of a field. “Head northwest. I’m not sure how to gauge distance, but it feels like we’ve got a few hours to go. If we keep driving . . .” I looked more closely at Deb. “Are those nightcrawlers?”

“I was hungry, and the gas station a few hours back had a bait store.” She grinned and plucked a long, squirming worm from the Styrofoam container of dirt. “Want one?”

I looked away. How to Eat Fried Worms had been one of my favorite books as a kid, but the reality was about to cost me my three Saltines.

“Who were you talking to?” asked Lena.

“Nicola. For some reason, she thinks I might have been involved in an attack on Coast Guard ships earlier tonight. Which reminds me, if either of you have cellphones, you should probably destroy them.”

Deb rolled her eyes. “Like I’m stupid enough to bring a cellphone along on a mission like this?”

“Mine died in the Atlantic,” said Lena. “I meant who were you talking to before that. You were snoring like a chainsaw for a while, but then you started mumbling. You sounded upset. You were arguing with someone.”

I froze. “What did I say?”

“You were talking about ghosts,” said Deb.

I rubbed my arms for warmth. My clothes were completely dry, but my body couldn’t let go of the chill from last night. “Just a dream.”

“Really?” Lena pressed. “Because it sounded like half of a conversation. You kept stopping, like you were waiting for someone else to speak. A couple of times, you cut off in mid-sentence. If you’re hearing voices, there’s no way you’re up for saving those sirens. Not with books potentially crawling around inside your head and setting up camp.”

“It’s not that. I’m familiar with libriomantic possession. I’ve had characters start talking to me, and I’ve seen what happens when you keep pushing.”

My first mission with Lena had involved a former Porter who’d lost his mind to the characters in various books.