I went to him, removed his peg leg, and placed it beside the chair. “It’s dangerous, but not a sacrifice. Because I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“Keep your optimism to yourself.”

Despite everything, I grinned, but it didn’t last long. “I’m sorry about you and Saba.”

“She’s dead, Andi.” It sounded so final when he said it. “Just a memory. The kindest thing I can do for her now is make sure her soul finds rest.”

“That sounds like an act of love to me.”

We were quiet for a moment.

He took a deep breath, wincing a little. “I suppose I should rest before tonight.”

“Okay.” I waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, I stood. “I’ll wake you for dinner.”

CHAPTER 32

Everything was ready.

Jember and I had made eleven shields—one amulet in the doorway of the game room, the other ten in the hall about five feet apart from each other, creating small pockets of protection in case the hyena got out of the room. The weapons we’d found were dispersed throughout the room and down the hall. Candles were lit everywhere, casting dancing shadows, creating haunting figures where there were none.

“It’s not too late to kill me,” Magnus said for the twentieth time tonight. He was lying on his side on the game room couch, a blanket pulled up to his chin despite the amulet Jember had made to warm the room. “Look at all the weapons in the room.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine forty-five. “It’ll be over soon, Magnus,” I said, barely processing my own words.

God. Over for whom?

I rushed out of the room, anxiety making my heart flutter.

Jember sat in a chair out in the hall, beside the open door so the hyena wouldn’t see him. He had a lightweight rack around his neck over his amulet, which housed the different colored threads he needed for easy access, and the amulet I’d started in his lap. I’d put a few more in my satchel, just in case he needed to start over, but Jember was used to only getting one at a time from the church. He’d never been allowed to mess up.

“Are you nervous?” I asked, hugging my arms in my light long-sleeved shirt.

“It’s better not to focus on how you feel,” Jember said, sounding as if he felt nothing.

“Well, I’m scared,” I said, the words falling out of me, despite his instruction.

“You’re scared? You did this to us. Besides, there are more important things than fear right now.”

“That’s my line.” I tried to swallow my fear, but it only sat in my stomach. “Can we pray together?”

Jember cringed. “God hasn’t heard me for quite some time.”

“He hears you. Maybe you’re just not listening when he responds.”