“Non-rhyming is fine,” I said slowly, thinking this just kept getting better and better. Glowing ashes of the dead? What kind of language needed its own word for that?

He cleared his throat and I readied my pen. “ ‘Dead unto dead, shine as the moon. Silence all but the restless.’ ” He hesitated. “And then the trigger word is ‘favilla.’ ”

“Favilla,” I repeated, writing it phonetically. “Any gesture?”

“No. It doesn’t physically act on anything, so you don’t need a gesture or focus object. Do you want me to repeat it?”

“No,” I said, a little sick as I looked at my palm. Did I really want to do this?

“Rachel,” he said, his voice sounding worried through the speaker. “Be careful.”

“Yeah,” I said, my pulse fast in anticipation and worry. “Thanks, Nick.” I bit my lower lip in a sudden thought. “Hey, um, keep my book for me until I talk to you, okay?”

“Ray-ray?” he questioned warily.

“Ask me later,” I said, flicking a glance at Edden, then Trent. I didn’t have to say another word. He was a smart man.

“Wait. Don’t hang up,” he said, the concern in his voice giving me pause. “Keep me on the line. I can’t sit here and feel those tugs on me without knowing if you’re in trouble or not.”

I licked my lips and forced my hand down from where it had been playing with the end of my braid. Using Nick as my familiar went against every moral fiber I had—and I’d like to think I had a lot of them—but I couldn’t walk away. I wouldn’t even try it if I wasn’t sure Nick would be unaffected. “I’ll give you to Captain Edden, okay?”

“Edden?” he said faintly, his worry taking on an edge of self-preservation.

I turned back to the three men. “Captain,” I said, drawing their attention. “I’d like to try a different finding spell before we leave.”

Edden’s round face was pinched with frustration. “We’re done here, Morgan,” he said gruffly. “We’ve taken up more than enough of Mr. Kalamack’s time.”

I swallowed, trying to look like I did this every day. “This one works differently.”

His breath went in and out in a rough sound. “Can I have a word with you in the hallway?” he intoned.

Hallway? I would not be pulled into the hallway like an errant child. I turned to Trent. “Mr. Kalamack won’t mind. He has nothing to hide, yes?”

Trent’s face was a mask of professional politeness. Jonathan stood behind him, his narrow face ugly. “As long as it falls within the parameters of your warrant,” Trent said smoothly.

I felt a jolt hearing the concern he was trying to hide. He was worried. I was, too.