I shuddered at the thought that I’d called upon spirits to help me bring Mara back. I didn’t need any more spirits in my life. Though I hadn’t learned any incantations yet, I made a note not to chant unless absolutely necessary.

  “What would you like to start with today?” Lilura sat across from me and folded her wrinkly hands together. “I’m feeling generous, so you can pick.”

  “The feather seems harmless enough, I guess. Unless you want me to make it grow into a chicken or something.”

  I didn’t really expect her to laugh, but she could have at least cracked a smile.

  “I just want you to make it float.”

  “In the water?” I asked hopefully.

  Lilura rolled her eyes. “In the air.”

  Of course.

  Lilura leaned her chin on her folded hands, watching me. “Concentrate on lifting it from the table.”

  I took a deep breath and concentrated. I visualized the feather separating from the table. My fingers tingled. To my delight, the feather quivered. I held my breath, willing it to move again. It quivered once more, and then fell still.

  “Did you see?” I looked to Lilura, hopeful.

  She shook her head. “It didn’t float.”

  “But I moved it.”

  “That’s not the point. You have a lot to learn, and I don’t know how we’re going to get you ready in time.”

  “In time? Is there a deadline?”

  “Yes.” Lilura narrowed her eyes. “The key word being dead.”

  Now she was trying to be funny? I crossed my arms over my chest. If there was a deadline, maybe Lilura should have mentioned it before.

  “Okay fine. What about Chase? I haven’t seen anything from him yet that might help me.”

  Chase stood up and went into the kitchen. From the way his teeth were clenched, I thought he was angry with me for calling him out. It was kind of a crap move, especially since he’d picked up his life and moved here just to help me. But then again, I’d been over here nearly every day for a week, and I still had no idea how he could help me. Sure, he researched, but from the way he talked, that wasn’t all he could do. If I was going to defeat a Reaper, I needed to know what he was capable of.

  I thought about going after him and apologizing, but he returned, carrying a wooden toolbox. He sat down and opened the box, running his fingers over a row of glass vials. His finger stopped at one and pulled it out.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  Instead of answering me, he pulled the stopper from the vial and dipped a small swabbing stick into the oily looking liquid. With graceful precision, Chase traced a circle around the feather. Lilura watched him, her chin resting in the cup of her hand.

  Chase put the swab away and leaned back in his chair. His gray eyes practically glowed when he looked at me. “Try it again.”

  Curiosity drove me to do as he said. I focused on the feather and pictured it floating. For three seconds, nothing happened. But then, not only did the feather quiver, it slowly rose from the table. It stayed there, suspended about five inches above the surface. I opened my mouth to comment, but I couldn’t find my voice.

  “And that’s what I call alchemy.” Chase grabbed the feather from midair and tucked it behind my ear. For a moment, his fingers lingered there. He then packed the vial away and took his box of tricks back to the kitchen. Lilura smirked at me.

  “That was pretty cool,” I admitted.

  Chase came back into the room. “You did the work. I just guided your magic.”

  “That’s really helpful.”

  “I tried to tell you.”

  “You said you were working on a potion or something that would poison a Reaper?”

  “A tincture. Yeah. It’s still in the beta phase though. My dad and brother and I used an earlier version of it while rescuing a Vila in Portugal. Wrapped in sachets that exploded on contact.”

  I gaped at him. “You’ve actually seen a Reaper?”

  “More than one. Glimpses, anyway, while trying to save Vila. Never stuck around long enough to take in the full sight of one.”

  “That’s unbelievable. Did the sachets work?”

  “They definitely caught the Reaper off guard and made it back off. Long enough that we could get the Vila to safety.”

  “Amazing!”

  “All right,” Lilura said. “That’s about all the niceties I can stand. Let’s get back to work.”

  Lilura set the three candles in front of me; I groaned with frustration.

  “How is putting candlelight out going to stop a Reaper?”

  She slapped her hands onto the table. “You have to learn how to control your power.”

  “Well, I was able to do the feather. Doesn’t that prove anything? Maybe I’m just not good with water glasses and candles.”

  “You’re not good with fire.” She put emphasis on the last word. “Your power is tied to the elements. You seem to have some control with air. You have difficulty with water, which is why you couldn’t get it to change color. But you told me you made it snow once, so I think there’s still a good chance that element can be trained. There’s no way I’m moving on to earth until you grasp fire, though.”

  “The elements? I … I didn’t even realize—”

  “Of course you didn’t, slow as you are.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Elements in nature, it’s all part of your witch background. The legend goes: Four divine spirits were sent to bring order to Earth. As they reached Earth, they turned into the four elements that linked mankind to nature, the heavens, and the Divine. To a witch, earth is a symbol of fertility and solidarity, while air is the essence of intelligence. Fire breathes strength and defense, and water is the essence of emotions. There’s a fifth element, which is spirit. It’s meant to govern the other four.”

  “So these are all things I have to master?”

  “It would help.”

  I took the matches from the table and lit the candles. Strength and defense. They seemed like pretty important things to control.

  I mustered up my energy to make this test a successful one. The flames wavered before me. My eyes took them all in until my focus melded them into one. In my mind, I could already imagine the lines of smoke dancing away from the wicks. The vibrations started in my body, a warmth in my blood, an electric prickling of my skin.

  As if I had pinched each wick with my own fingers, all three flames went out at the same time.

  At first I simply stared at what I had done. A moment later my eyes found Lilura’s. My throat felt dry as I waited for her to react. One of her brows lifted slightly, and then she nodded at me. I bit back the huge smile that was fighting to show on my face—she wouldn’t approve of me getting ahead of myself.

  Chase smirked at me. “Great progress. And you didn’t even need help from my potions kit.”

  I cleared my throat. “Thanks.”

  “Maybe now we can move on to the water,” Lilura said.

  Rubbing my hands over my eyes, I let out a sigh. I had it in me to do this, I had just proved that with the fire. It seemed to me that fire would be more important in a battle with a Reaper than water, the element of emotions. How could controlling my emotions help me defeat a Reaper? Lilura placed the glass of water in front of me.

  “Have we found anything yet that will actually help me stop the Reaper?” I asked. “And when I say stop, I’m pretty sure that means … kill.”

  Lilura let out a long, slow breath, and I was suddenly hit with the frightening possibility that I was plunging head first into a futile battle.

  “I might have found something,” Chase said, coming over to sit by me. He flipped through the first pages of the thick black book in his hands. “There’s a story of a man who encountered the Grim Reaper, an angel of death. According to the story, the man accepted that it was his time to go, but he asked the angel to give him his knife so that he wouldn’t be afraid as he traveled from this world to the next. The angel did as he asked, but when the man reached his destination, he didn’t give the knife back. A heavenly voice sounded, telling the man that the angel needed the knife back.”

  “A knife?” I found it hard to believe that a Reaper would need a knife. Then again, most symbolic images of the Grim Reaper tie him to a scythe.

  “The implication is that the man would be able to protect himself with the Reaper’s knife—protect him from the Reaper himself. I still have to research it, but I believe this knife, when used against a Reaper, could destroy him.”

  We were silent for a while. I let this new piece of information sink in and take form in my head. Did this mean I would have to get a hold of Mara’s Reaper’s knife in order to defeat him? And even if I could get the knife away from him, would I have it in me to use it on him? A shiver worked its way up my spine.

  I was unsuccessful changing the color of the water, no matter how hard I tried. Even when Chase encircled the glass with his ointment, I was only able to make the water swirl. Although I thought it was impressive that I could get the water to react at all, the expression on Lilura’s face told me it wasn’t good enough.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon researching, trying to find anything that would help me defeat a Reaper. When it grew dark, I stood to leave. Dad had texted to say he’d be home early, and he was bringing fried chicken. I didn’t want to be late. To my surprise, Chase set down the book he was reading to walk outside with me. The air had cooled, and I wrapped my arms around myself.

  “I feel like I’m leaving all the work to you,” I told him. “I wish I could stay and keep researching.”

  Chase shoved his hands deep into his trench coat pockets. “I guess you have actual homework to do as well.”

  “Yeah. I can’t actually get into college with a Vila diploma.”

  “I guess not.”

  I smiled and studied his face by the light of the porch. I found myself comparing his appearance with the picture of him as a boy in Lilura’s house. I could still see the young Chase in his eyes, the shape of his lips. “Can I ask you a question?”

  He smirked, probably because I always asked him that.

  “Where are your parents?”

  Chase looked up at the sky. The night was clear enough that the stars shone extra bright. “My father is in Europe with my older brother. They’re searching for Vila and the original witch and faery families. They think the war never ended, and that they might be able to do something to stop it. Bring all the suffering to an end.”

  I hadn’t realized the original witch and faery families were still in existence. “Wow. That’s a pretty big mission.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And your mother?”

  His gaze dropped to the ground, and he kicked a rock lightly with his foot. “She’s no longer with us.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  He looked at me, a glint of moonlight in his eyes. “She gave herself over to a Reaper when my brother and I were small. That’s what drove my dad to get out there, to try to fix it all.”

  I didn’t say anything. I simply looked at him. Now that I knew his story, he seemed different to me. Sadder. Stronger. He had lost his mother. Not just to a mental hospital, like my mother, but to something much more permanent. And now he’d dedicated his life to learn to defeat the thing that stole his childhood happiness away. For a moment, I wanted to reach out and take his hand. But I didn’t.

  “You better get home,” he said. “It’s only getting darker.”

  “All right,” I said softly. “See you tomorrow.”

  Chase’s story occupied my thoughts on the walk home. It didn’t occur to me until I was nearly there that Chase’s mother was Lilura’s daughter; they had both lost the same person. I could just imagine the sorrow Lilura must have felt at losing her flesh and blood. A shiver ran through me, and I rubbed my arms to fend it off.

  A moth fluttered around my porch light. I watched it as I walked up the porch steps. It had a goal in mind, but was having trouble getting to it. I knew how it felt. As I reached for the door knob, there was a snap behind me, like a twig breaking. I squinted, trying to make out whatever might be lurking in the shadows of my front yard. I held my breath until, finally, a figure moved out of the shadows. Gavin stepped into the glow of my porch light, hands in his pockets.

  “Gavin? What are you doing?”

  He looked at me, seemingly nervous. Then he straightened his shoulders. “What am I doing? What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was hanging outside school with Danny when you left today. A couple minutes later, that Chase guy came out of the school. Stopped and looked right at me. Like he was smirking at me or something. Seriously creepy. After he drove off in his car, I got curious. I overheard Naomi yesterday saying something about you and him talking in the halls and stuff. So I … I followed you. And I saw you go into that witch lady’s house. Chase pulled up a minute later and went in too. So I have to wonder what’s going on.”

  I was glad it was dark so he couldn’t see me blush. “Chase is Lilura’s grandson. Lilura is the witch lady, in case you’re wondering. Only she’s not a witch.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “What were you doing there?”

  It took three whole seconds before I could form words. “I’m working on a project for school. Sort of a research paper for social studies. I’m … interviewing her.”

  He stared at me for a moment, and I could tell he didn’t buy my story.

  “Why don’t I believe you? Are you seeing that guy behind my back or something?” he asked.

  My mouth hung open for a moment before I could speak. “No! I’m not—”

  He cut me off. “I know something’s going on. Is this about … witchcraft? Is that woman teaching you or something?”

  “No!” I didn’t know why I wanted to defend myself. His guess was almost right—well, about the teaching, not about Chase—but I couldn’t help but want to hide the truth from him. “That’s crazy.”

  “Then what’s going on? I invited you to come watch a movie with me, and you said you had family plans. Then you go there? I don’t like feeling like I’m being made an ass of.”

  I was backed into a corner. I couldn’t tell Gavin about Vila and Reapers; I was too scared to tell him about Mara and how she might possibly be trying to kill people. If I told him the truth about what I’d been doing at Chase’s house, I might scare him off for good. I knew it was ridiculous, but the notion of Gavin being afraid of me sounded worse than him not wanting to be my boyfriend. My walls of defense went straight up.

  “You’re right. I lied to you.” My hands clenched into fists.

  “What?”

  Tears stung my eyes. It was so tempting to just tell him everything. As much as I hated lying to him, as much as I wanted him to go on thinking of me the way he had, my gut told me to walk away. To deny everything and keep him in the dark about who I really was.

  “I couldn’t come to your house because I was meeting up with Chase.”

  Gavin stared at me, searching my face. I swallowed and waited for him to react.

  He rubbed his hand over his chin. “So you’re trying to tell me there’s something going on between you two?”

  My throat was closing up. It was like my heart had dropped into my stomach. I didn’t know how to respond without backing out of the lie and telling him the truth. So I just shrugged, holding my breath so my tears wouldn’t spill over to my cheeks.

  He shook his head, his mouth a straight line. “I thought you were decent. I thought with all the douches in this town, I’d actually found someone good. But you’re no different from any of them, are you?” With a look of disappointment in his eyes, he turned and walked away.

  “Gavin,” I called after him. He merely glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. I stood there and stared after him, even when I could no longer see him. My heart felt impossibly heavy, like my body couldn’t take the weight. It wasn’t until I let out a shuddering breath that I realized I was crying.

  I stayed on the porch until my tears had dried, feeling torn. Part of me wanted to run inside, bury my head in my pillow, and hide there until the pain stopped. The other part of me wanted to run down the street and find Gavin and tell him I was sorry and spill the truth. But when I stepped into the house, neither of those choices were a possibility.

  Dad was sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, staring off into space. My stomach churned, and I wondered where Mara was. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I just got a phone call from the hospital.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Mara was supposed to have another appointment with Dr. Klein tomorrow.”

  “Yeah?”

  “There was a car accident this afternoon. Dr. Klein is dead.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  By the following Friday night, I just wanted to crawl into a hole and sleep. Unfortunately, Naomi was standing in my living room with other plans. She looked entirely too put together for me. I felt exhausted just looking at her.

  “I don’t really feel like a movie,” I told her.

  She set her hands on her hips. “This isn’t about what you feel like, this is about stopping your spiral into a pit of doom.”

  “Too late.” I dropped onto my couch. Even I had to admit my sigh was pitiful.

  “The thing you need right now is to be out with your best friend getting silly. And since we’re too young to hit the clubs, by process of elimination, we’re seeing a movie.”

  I didn’t want to see a movie. I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until the Homecoming Dance. Maybe by then, Gavin would have forgiven me. But given the way he’d been completely avoiding me at school, probably not. Since Naomi had already vetoed the sleep idea, I asked instead, “What about Mara?”

  Dad was working late again—something about a promotion coming up—and Mara was upstairs doing who-knew-what. I fought a chill just thinking about the possibilities.