Without taking her eyes from Eli, the woman took her hand and shook it. “Welcome, Eli. We’ve waited a long time.”
Eli could hear the murmur of other voices, and bodies slowly materialized into her field of vision.
“Good job, Cam!”
“Missed you, Cam.”
“Cam the Man!”
“Did you see any witches?”
“Did the cops stop you? I heard they were stopping everyone.”
“Great work, Cameron.”
“I’m the one who found her,” said a familiar voice. “Don’t I get any credit?”
Eli froze. Turned her head and found that challenging stare. Remembered the heat of leather on her body. Felt her fingers twitch toward her blades, drawn by instinct. Immediately retreated into shame and horror.
“Find your bike yet?” asked Eli coolly. “I’d be hurt if someone picked it up who doesn’t appreciate it.”
“Yeah, we found it.”
Eli looked for a trace of reproach in Tav’s face and saw nothing. It was a blank page.
So they’d both lied. She took a step back from the crowd. What had Tav told them about her? She had heard of witches using the bodies of former assassins or pets for all kinds of back-alley magics.
She had walked right into a trap.
“Who’s the witch?” she choked out, hearing the guttural rasp of panic in her voice. The crowd quieted and stilled, one man’s arm around Cam’s waist. She let blackness slip into her eyes and glanced over at the blue threads that kept wavering nearer, as if trying to catch her. “Call off your pets if you want a fair talk. Otherwise I’m leaving.”
“You can’t leave,” said Cam.
Blades out. One glass, the other stone. A defensive pairing: one to reflect dark magic, the other to defend against physical harm. Eli was not a reckless fighter, and she always won her battles.
A murmur of voices rose up.
“How did those get in here?”
“Get back!”
“She’s crazy.”
“The barrier failed!”
“The barrier didn’t fail,” said the woman who had risen to greet her — the café owner, Eli assumed. The woman narrowed her eyes. “No one is permitted to bring something that is not a part of them into this space. We bring only ourselves. Those magic blades must be made from your own bone.” She sounded disgusted and a bit sad. “A clumsy way to arm agents, and brutal. But effective.” The others looked horrified.
Eli felt a jolt of surprise and then calmed. No wonder the blades always moved in unison with her body, always bent to her will. She had been made of glass and stone, and these knives were her kin. Their presence soothed her.
“I asked you a question,” Eli said. “Who. Is. The. Witch.”
“I’m the witch,” said the woman. “And this is my café. You may call me the Hedge-Witch. I’m not with the Coven, and I’m not here to hurt you. We need your help. Will you listen?”
Eli felt deep in her bones that one of those things was a lie. The only problem was she didn’t know which one. But she was in too deep now, and there was no easy path back.
“I want proof of your good intentions,” she said.
“You are armed,” said the Hedge-Witch. “Take Cam as a hostage. If we break faith, you may kill him.”
Eli stared at her for a moment and then sheathed her blades. “Spoken like a true witch,” she spat.
“I told you she wouldn’t do it,” said Cam, glowing.
Footsteps. A clumsy hand on the doorknob. Eli tensed again, but no one else did.
“The final member of our group has arrived,” said the owner, smiling. “I wondered if he was going to show up.”
“He missed me,” said Tav.
The door swung open and a body lurched in.
This time, there could be no mistake. Eli could smell the curdled milk of dying magic. Sweetness turned to rot. Walking death. The body moved strangely, awkwardly, as if new to the world. As a child, Eli had learned to read these signs and understood what they meant.
The final member of the party was a ghost.
Fourteen
“Go into the City of Ghosts and bring me back a sewing needle, a peach pit, and a fleck of dried paint,” Circinae had told her.
Eli, a fierce eight-year-old, had been sent to the City of Ghosts before but had never been tasked with a retrieval. She hadn’t known it was possible.
(Circinae always seemed to tell her as little as possible, gifting out morsels of information only when Eli needed them.)
“She’s testing you,” Kite told her, as they lay together in the Children’s Lair and watched great white fish flying overhead. One opened its jaws to catch a bird; its teeth glittered like diamonds. Clytemnestra was riding on one and waved merrily at them. They waved back.
“It’s easy,” said Eli. “I’ll come over later and tell you about it.”
“It’s a trick. You have to impress her.”
“I know that!” Eli pressed her elbow into Kite’s side. “I just wish she would tell me what she wants.”
“She’s a witch.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Kite nudged her back. “You humans are so weird.”
“I’m not human.” Eli turned her jet-black eyes to Kite.
“Switch! Switch!” Kite giggled.
Eli switched rapidly between yellow and black eyes until she had a headache. Then she lay back down again and went back to worrying.
How could she show Circinae that she was ready for a real assignment?
“I have an idea!” announced Kite. “I know how you can impress her.” She leaned over and whispered in Eli’s ear.
A slow earthworm smile wriggled its way across Eli’s face.
She returned hours later, knives wet with fruit juice. She gave a kiwi to the Labyrinth, and it happily let her enter the Children’s Lair. A few bored young witches were racing feathers up the wall and making them explode when they reached the top.
“Where’s Kite?” she asked, tossing a papaya to Clytemnestra.
“Who?” Clytemnestra unhinged her jaw, caught the papaya in her mouth, and swallowed it whole.
Eli frowned. “I just got back from a mission.”
“Ooh!” Clytemnestra put her face in Eli’s face, eyes sparkling. “Did you kill anyone?”
“Not yet.”
“Boring.” Clytemnestra went back to watching the other children play.
Eli waited, but Kite didn’t come. Some time later, she felt a tug in her bones and knew that she had to go home or risk punishment.
“Show me,” demanded Circinae, staring deep into the purplegreen fire. She stuck out a hand.
Eli walked forward and handed Circinae an ordinary sewing needle and the peach pit.
“Well?” Circinae snapped. “The fleck of paint?”
“I can’t give it to you.” Away from the comfort of Kite’s legs and arms tangled in her own, Eli felt less certain about their plan.
“Why not?” Circinae turned finally to look at her wild daughter. The flames cast shadows on the walls that danced to the quick beat of Eli’s heart.