I clenched my hands so no one would see them tremble, but when I took a breath to answer her, she vanished.

Dali’s exhale was loud and strong. “I give Minias two days.”

Al’s shoulders slumped. “He’s used to evading her. I give him…seven.” He shifted uneasily, looking at the sparkles in the surf. “Rachel, collect your elf. I’m tired and I want to wash the cell-stink off me.” I didn’t move and he gave me a shove in Trent’s direction before turning to Dali. “I’m assuming the charge of uncommon stupidity will be dropped?”

Dali smiled. “Yes, yes, take your student’s familiar and get out. Are you going to remind Newt as you said you would?”

Al smiled. “Every day until she kills him. Yes.”

Unsure, I looked at Trent gazing murderously at me, then Al. “Uh, Al?” I prompted.

“Get your elf, itchy-witch,” he said under his breath. “I want to get out of here before Newt remembers a rule or something and comes back.”

But Trent was looking at me like he wanted to jam a pen in my eye. Taking a shaky breath, I strode to him, falling into a crouch and extending a hand to help him out of the bobbing boat. A low sound rose from him. I stared at him, frozen, as he lunged at me.

“Trent!” I managed before he got a grip on my throat. My back hit the dock, and he landed on me, pushing my air out. He was straddling me, his grip cutting off my air—and then he was gone and I could breathe again. I heard a thump, looking up to see that Al had backhanded him off of me.

Trent slumped to the dock, a leg hanging off it and threatening to pull him into the water. Shocked, I stared as he curled into himself and retched over the side.

“Lesson number two,” Al said as he yanked me up with a white-gloved hand. “Never trust your familiar.”

“What in hell is wrong with you!” I shouted, glaring at Trent as I shook. “You can kill me later, but right now, I want to get out of here!”

I reached out, and this time he did nothing when I pulled him to Al. I didn’t know how to travel the lines, but I assumed Al would jump us, seeing as I had just saved his demon ass.

“Thank you,” I muttered, very conscious of Dali watching us with calculation.

“Thank me later, itchy-witch,” Al said nervously. “I’m popping you and your familiar back to your church, but I expect to see you in fifteen minutes in your ley line with your spelling supplies and a new stick of magnetic chalk. I need some time to, ah, rent a room somewhere.”