“Yes. She felt like something had been made right.”

A second image materializes. This form is outlined in bright orange, but the middle is darker. The two flames embrace, twining together in a crackle of spark and smoke, and when they part, the bright, doll-like flame has waned so thin, it flickers until it is nothing more than a thin rivulet of vapor.

“The last thing she felt was shock.”

The other flame remains, and a high-pitched whistle fills the air. Samael retrieves a pitcher of water, dousing the fire, filling the air with the smell of sulfur. I cover my nose with the sleeve of my jacket.

The witch reaches into the sludge, retrieving Thane’s necklace, and drops it into the center of a cloth. As she starts to massage away the evidence of her spell, she speaks.

“The girl you seek is at the train yard.”

Thane and I exchange a look. I’m not familiar enough with Rayon to know where the train yard is located, and now I’m curious. Why would Lily go there?

“Are you aware of your responsibility once you do find her?” Samael asks.

“Very much,” Thane says evenly, almost angrily, but I still don’t understand. What’s his responsibility?

Samael doesn’t look convinced and says, “She must be returned to Spirit.”

“I said I understood,” Thane snaps.

But Samael isn’t looking at him. She’s looking at me.

“How does she return to Spirit?” I ask.

“You must summon the Adamantine Gates. That is the only way lost souls can find their way home.”

A hand presses against my shoulder, and I jump, looking up at Thane.

“Let’s go,” he says.

He helps me to my feet, and I sway, dizzy and unstable. Thane steadies me, but before we leave the office, Samael says, “They always come back wrong, Thane. Always.”

We leave the witch’s office.

Once we’re in the elevator, I take deep breaths in an attempt to clear my swimming head. I slide to the floor, and Thane crouches before me.

“You all right?”

“I think so.”

“Just keep taking deep breaths.”

“What did she do?”

“It’s the incense. She uses it to confuse you in hopes you’ll give away something she wants.”

I glare at him. “You didn’t stop her?”

“Have you ever tried to tell a witch not to do something in her own shop?”

My stomach sours. Sometimes I wish Thane would sugarcoat things. After a few more breaths, the smell of sage and jasmine is replaced by Thane’s musk and stale water.

“Thane,” I say after a long pause. “I don’t know how to open the gates.”

Admitting that feels like admitting to Thane that I am the Eurydice, even though he already knows.

“I know.”

“Then what do we do when we find my coin?”