“What’s the test?”

“On the Eighteenth Moon,” she repeated. “For One who will bring the Order back anew.”

It was the message from my Shadowing Song—most of it, anyway.

The One Who Is Two.

“Who?” Abraham demanded. “Tell me now! Who will bring back the Order?”

Mrs. English’s neck jerked unnaturally toward Abraham, the black-shadowed eye sockets facing him. A thunderous sound ripped through the house. “You do not command me.”

Before he could respond, a blinding light streaked from the dark sockets where Mrs. English’s eyes should have been—directly at Abraham and Sarafine. Abraham didn’t even have time to rip. The light hit them and exploded around them, filling the room. Sarafine’s invisible grip disappeared, and I threw my arm over my eyes to shield them from the light. But I could still sense it, as if I was looking into the sun.

Within seconds, the impossible brightness dimmed and I pulled my arm away from my face. I looked at the place where Abraham and Sarafine had been standing. Black splotches clouded my vision.

Abraham and Sarafine were gone.

“Are they dead?” I found myself hoping. Maybe Abraham had used The Book of Moons one time too many. The Book always took something in return.

“Dead.” The Lilum paused. “No. It is not their time to be judged.”

I disagreed, but I wasn’t about to argue with a creature powerful enough to make Abraham and Sarafine disappear. “What happened to them?”

“I willed them away. I do not wish to hear their voices.” She didn’t really answer the question.

But I had another one, and I had to find the courage to ask it. “The one who has to face the test on the Eighteenth Moon—are you talking about the One Who Is Two?”

The darkened sockets of her eyes turned toward me, and the voice began to speak. “The One Who Is Two, in Whom the Balance is paid. The Dark Fire, from which all power comes, will make the Order anew.”

“So we can fix it? The Order, I mean?”

“If the Balance is paid, there will be a New Order.” Her voice was completely flat, as if what I had been hoping for meant nothing.

“What do you mean by the Balance?”

“Balance. Payment. Sacrifice.”

Sacrifice.

By the One Who Is Two.

“Not Lena,” I whispered. I couldn’t lose her again. “She can’t be the sacrifice. She didn’t mean to break the Order.”

“Both Dark and Light. Perfect balance. True magic.” The Lilum was quiet. Was she thinking, searching for words in the mind of Mrs. English, or just getting tired of hearing my voice, too? “She is not the Crucible. The child of Darkness and Light will Bind the New Order.”

It wasn’t Lena.

I took a deep breath. “Wait. Then who is it?”

“There is another.”

Maybe she didn’t understand what I was asking. “Who?”

“You will find the One Who Is Two.” The empty black shadows stared at me from the face of Mrs. English.

“Why me?”

“Because you are the Wayward. The one who marks the way between our worlds. The Demon world and the Mortal world.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be the Wayward.” I said it without thinking, but it was true. I didn’t know how to find this person. And I didn’t want the fate of the Mortal and Caster worlds resting with me.

The walls began to shake again, the ceramic figurines knocking against one another. I watched as the little moon moved dangerously close to the edge of the mantel. “I understand. We cannot choose what we are in the Order. I am the Demon Queen.” Did she mean that she didn’t want to be what she was either? “The Order of Things exists beyond. The River flows. The Wheel turns. This moment changes the next. You have changed everything.” The walls ceased shaking, and the moon stopped just before it fell over the edge.

“This is the way. There is no other.”

I understood that.

It was the last thing the Lilum said before the possessed body of Mrs. English dropped to the floor.

11.01

Bad-Eye Side

With her glasses knocked off, her glass eye closed, and her hair unraveled from its maniacal bun—Lilian English almost looked like a person.

A nice person.

I called 911. Then I sat in the worn flowered chair, staring at Mrs. English’s body, waiting for the ambulance. I wondered if she was dead. Another casualty in this war I wasn’t sure we could win.

Another thing that was my fault.

The ambulance arrived not long after that. By the time Woody Porter and Bud Sweet found a pulse, I could breathe again. I watched as they loaded the gurney into the back of the “bus,” as Woody called it.

“Anyone you can call for her?” Bud asked as he slammed the ambulance doors.

There was one person.

“Yeah. I’ll call someone.” I went back into Mrs. English’s tiny house, through the hall and into the kitchen with the hummingbird wallpaper. I didn’t want to call my dad, but I owed Mrs. English that much after everything she’d been through. I lifted the pastel pink receiver off the cradle and stared at the rows of numbers.

My hand started to shake.

I couldn’t remember my phone number.

Maybe I was in shock. That’s what I kept telling myself, but I knew it was more than that. Something was happening to me. What I didn’t know was why.

I closed my eyes, willing my fingers to find the right numbers.