"Brilliant,"Al whispered, his cultured voice soft beside me.
I did nothing as a gloved hand curved under my jaw and tilted my head up. I couldn't see him as I blinked, but I felt the warmth of his hand. "You broke her utterly," Al said in wonder.
Lee's breathing was harsh. Clearly it had taken a lot out of him. I couldn't stop crying, the tears dribbling down my cheeks, cold in the wind. Al let go of my jaw, and I curled into a ball in the rubble at his feet, uncaring of what might happen next. Oh God, my dad.
"She's yours," Lee said. "Take my mark off."
I felt Al's arms go around me, lifting me up. I couldn't help but press into him. I was so cold, and he smelled like Old Spice. Though I knew it was Al's twisted cruelty, I clutched at him and sobbed. I missed him. God, I missed him. "Rachel," came my dad's voice, pulled from my memory, and I cried all the harder. "Rachel," it came again. "Is there nothing left?"
"Nothing," I said around my sobbing breaths.
"Are you sure?" my dad said, gentle and caring. "You tried so hard, my little witch. You really fought him with everything and failed?"
"I failed," I said between my sobs. "I want to go home."
"Shhhh," he soothed, his hand cool against me in my darkness. "I'll get you home and put you to bed."
I felt Al shift into motion. I was broken, but I wasn't done. My mind rebelled, wanting to sink deeper into nothingness, but my will survived. It was either Lee or me, and I wanted my cup of cocoa on Ivy's couch and a theme book of rationalizations.
"Al," I whispered. "Lee should be dead." It was easier to breathe. The memory of my father's death was slipping back into the hidden folds of my brain. They had been buried there so long that they found their places easily, one by one filed away for lonely nights by myself.
"Hush, Rachel," Al said. "I see what you intended by letting Lee trounce you, but you can kindle demon magic fully. There has never been a witch that can do that." He laughed, his glee chilling me. "And you're mine. Not Newt's, not anyone else's but mine."
"What about my demon mark?" Lee protested, several steps back, and I wanted to cry for him. He was so dead, and he didn't know it yet.
"Lee can," I whispered. I could see the sky. Blinking profusely, I saw a dark shadow of Al holding me silhouetted against the red-smeared clouds. Relief slipped into me, pushing out the last of my doubt to leave a shimmer of hope underneath. Ley line charms of illusion only worked short-term unless they were given a permanent place to reside in silver. "Taste him," I said. "Taste his blood. Trent's father fixed him, too. He can kindle demon magic."
Al jerked to a stop. "Bless me thrice. There are two of you?"
I shrieked as I fell, crying out as my hip hit a rock.
From behind me, I heard Lee's shout of fear and shock. Turning where Al had dropped me, I peered over the rubble and rubbed my eyes to make outAl drawing a sharp nail across Lee's arm. Blood welled, and I felt sick. "I'm sorry, Lee," I whispered, hugging my knees to myself. "I'm so sorry."
Al made a low sound deep in his throat of pleasure. "She's right," he said as he brought a finger from his lips. "And you're better at ley line magic than she is. I'll take you instead."
"No!" Lee screamed, and Al jerked him closer. "You wanted her! I gave you her!"
"You gave her to me, I took off your demon mark, and now I'm taking you. You can both kindle demon magic," Al said. "I could spend decades fighting a scrawny, high-maintenance familiar like her and never wedge the spells you already know into her cotton-fluffed head. Ever try twisting a demon curse?"
"No!" Lee cried, fighting to get away. "I can't!"
"You will. Here," Al said, dropping him down onto the ground. "Hold this for me."
I covered my ears and curled into myself as Lee screamed, then screamed again. It was high and raw, scraping across my skull like a nightmare. I felt like I was going to vomit. I had given Lee to Al to save my life. That Lee tried to do the same to me didn't make me feel better.
"Lee," I said, tears leaking out. "I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry."
Lee's voice cut off as he passed out. Al smiled, turning on a heel to me. "Ta, love. I don't like to be on the surface when it gets dark. All the best of luck to you."
My eyes widened. "I don't know how to get home!" I cried.
"Not my problem. 'Bye now."
I sat up, chilled as the stones I was sitting on seemed to soak into me. Lee came to with an ugly gibbering sound. Tucking him under an arm, Al gave me a nod and vanished.
A stone slid down to roll to my feet. I blinked, wiping my eyes to only get rock dust and chips of stone in them. "The line," I whispered, remembering. Maybe if I got into the line. Lee had jumped from outside of a line, but maybe I had to learn to walk before I could run.
A movement at the edge of my awareness caught my attention. Heart pounding, I whipped my head around, seeing nothing. Steadying myself, I wedged myself up, gasping when white-hot knives stabbed my ankle to take my breath away. I slipped back to the ground. Jaw gritted, I decided I would just crawl over there.
I reached out, seeing Mrs. Aver's business suit coated in the dust and frost it had scraped from the surrounding rocks. Gripping an outcrop, I pulled myself forward, managing a halfway upright position. My body was shaking with cold and fading adrenaline. The sun was almost down. A sliding of rocks urged me on. They were getting closer.
A soft pop pulled my head up. A tumble of pebbles and rocks came from everywhere as the lesser demons scrambled into hiding. My breath slipped from me as, from around my hair, I saw a small figure in dark purple sitting cross-legged before me, a narrow staff as long as I was tall laying across its lap. A robe draped it. Not a bathrobe, but a classy mix of a kimono and something a desert sheik would wear, all billowy with the suppleness of linen. A round hat with straight sides and a flat top was perched on its head. Squinting in the fading light, I decided there was an inch or so of air between the gold trim and the ground. Now what?
"Who in hell are you?" I said, pulling myself forward another step, "and will you be taking me home instead of Al?"
"Who in hell are you?" it echoed, its voice a mix of rough lightness. "Yes. That fits."
It wasn't hitting me with that carved black stick, or putting a charm on me, or even making ugly faces, so I ignored it and dragged myself forward another foot. There was a crackle of paper, and wondering, I tucked David's trifolded paper into my waistband. Yeah, he'd probably want this back.
"I'm Newt," it said, seemingly disappointed I was ignoring it. There was a rich accent that I couldn't place, an odd way of saying the vowels. "And no, I'm not taking you home. I already have a demon familiar. Algaliarept is right; you're almost worthless right now."
A demon for a familiar? Ooooh, that had to be good. Grunting, I pulled myself forward. My ribs hurt, and I pressed a hand into them. Panting, I looked up. A smooth face, not young, not old—sort of…nothing—met me. "Ceri is afraid of you," I said.
"I know. She's very perceptive. Is she well?"
Fear slid through me. "Leave her alone," I said, jerking back as it pushed my hair out of my eyes. Its touch seemed to sink into me though I felt fingertips firm on my forehead. I stared at its black eyes as it peered at me, unruffled and curious.
"Your hair ought to be red," it said, smelling of crushed dandelions. "And your eyes are green like my sisters', not brown."