Another half mile of hiking, and Jade led them to a small clearing. Sasha and Zhang were speaking quietly together while Pavel bent over a silver bowl, a stream of lavender smoke dancing above it—directly above it, and not blowing away, despite the breeze.

Rory’s skin broke out in goose bumps.

Arthur cursed softly. “That already looks more impressive than the attempt the three of us made.”

Pavel looked up, his pupils so blown his light brown eyes were swallowed in black. Rory tagged behind Arthur as he walked toward Pavel and the potion. When he was about two feet away, Arthur crouched on the ground and set the briefcase in the dirt. He opened the lid, revealing dull brass that caught the grayish sunlight.

Rory grimaced. The snuffer wasn’t a reminder of anything good, and even the sight made his skin crawl. “I don’t think I should touch it again.”

“No,” said Zhang quietly, as he and Sasha came over to join them. “Probably not.”

Pavel picked up the snuffer, and closed his eyes as his hands traveled over the brass.

“What’s he doing?” Rory whispered to Sasha, as Arthur straightened up.

“Looking for ashes or wax residue,” Sasha whispered back. “His alchemy won’t work on just the metal.”

Pavel traced his finger inside the snuffer, then set it to the side. He rubbed his index and thumb together over the potion, and the smoke hovering over the bowl deepened, the wispy lavender becoming a more solid-looking royal purple.

There was a soft nudge in Rory’s side.

“Here.” Sasha held out an open pocketknife, the blade a brilliant silver. “Left palm, across the lifeline.”

Beside Rory, Arthur stiffened.

Right. They needed to add Rory’s blood to the potion.

’Cause that wasn’t creepy at all.

He took the knife and stepped to Pavel’s side. Pavel reached down to touch the potion, swirling the liquid gently, and changing shades of purple followed his finger like he was painting.

Well, Rory babbled nonsense when he was deep in his magic. He wasn’t judging.

“Now,” Pavel whispered.

Rory clenched his teeth against any sound and drew the knife over his palm. Blood welled instantly in the cut, and the atmosphere in the clearing seemed to thicken.

As the blood dripped off his palm and down into the bowl, color rippled out, transforming the potion an intense purple that was nearly black. Tiny bubbles broke the surface, like a cold boil.

Rory fought down a shiver. He could practically taste the magic on his tongue, heavy and metallic like a mouthful of pennies. “Anyone else feel it?” he said quietly.

“No,” said Zhang. “That’s your subordinate magic. And why it’s your blood.”

Sasha moved close to her brother. “It’s ready.”

Rory stepped back, shaking out his hand. To his surprise, Arthur suddenly caught it, and held up gauze. “Jade came prepared,” he said in a whisper. “Are you all right?”