Ellis and Gwen met each other’s eyes, then Ellis ducked his head to press a quick kiss to Gwen’s lips. “Where do you want me?” he asked, as he closed the door behind him and followed Rory deeper into the room.

“On the floor.” Rory pointed to the siphon clock. “You’re gonna hold your dagger in your right hand, and put your other hand on the top of the siphon.”

Ellis sat on the floor and pulled the Venom Dagger out of its scabbard. The rubies on its hilt caught the room’s dim light. “If you accidentally kill me, Gwen’ll torture you to death,” he said dryly. “Just so you know.”

Rory gave him a flat look. “I’ve never killed anyone. I’m not gonna start with you.”

“I’ll believe that when this is over.” Ellis shifted on the floor, and the light caught his wedding ring, a thick band prominent on his fourth finger. Looked like pure gold, without stones or any other metals set in.

Rory frowned. “You should take that ring off.”

“My wedding ring?” Ellis said sharply. “No. I never take it off.”

“It’s gold, like the flakes,” Rory said impatiently. “It could mess with the magic transfer.”

Ellis’s eyes narrowed. “Did you actually see a wedding band messing with the siphon in its past?”

“Well—no—”

“Then it’ll be fine. I’m not taking it off without a better reason.”

Rory huffed. “Fine,” he said. “But focus on the siphon, all right? We’re trying to suck the magic out of the dagger and release it into the air.”

He crouched in front of the clock and motioned to the knife Ellis was holding. “Wipe some of your blood on the zodiac hand, then set it to your sign.”

Ellis raised an eyebrow. “Creepy,” he said, which pretty much summed up Rory’s feelings about all magic that took blood.

A minute later, Ellis was sucking his bleeding finger and the final hand of the siphon clock was set to Leo.

“Now close your eyes,” said Rory. “The less you know about how this works, the better.”

“Whatever you say, kid.” Ellis closed his eyes.

Rory waited a moment, then waved his hand in front of Ellis’s face. Satisfied Ellis wasn’t peeking, Rory twisted the final dials along the outside of the clock until the Tropic of Capricorn was aligned with sunrise and the Tropic of Cancer was aligned with sunset.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Ellis gasped, his eyes flying open.

Rory grabbed Ellis’s wrist and pinned it, forcing his hand to stay in place at the top of the siphon clock. “Stay put,” he ground out. “Concentrate on pulling the magic from your dagger.”

Ellis gritted his teeth, and his arm was tense under Rory’s hand.

But he stayed in place.