“You don’t have to rub it in.”

“No, that’s it. You don’t need Casts that work for a Mortal. You’re not a Mortal anymore. You need Casts that work for a Sheer.” He flipped page after page. “An Umbra Cast. Sending a shadow from one world to the next. That’s you, the shadow. It should work.”

I thought about it. Could it be that simple?

I stared at my hand, at the flesh and bones of it.

It only looks like flesh and bones. You’re not really here, not like that. You don’t have a body.

What was the big difference between a Sheer and a shadow?

“I need to be able to touch something, though. It won’t work unless I can get the message to Lena, and I’ll need to be able to move some papers around.”

He cocked his head, twisting his face into a grimace. I hoped it was his thinking face.

“Do you need to touch something?”

“That’s what I just said.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. You said you need to move something. That’s different.”

“Does it matter?”

“Entirely.” He flipped a few more pages. “A Veritas Cast should allow the truth to appear. As long as you’re looking for the truth.”

“That’ll work?”

I hoped he was right.

Minutes later, any doubts I had about Xavier were gone.

I was here. I hadn’t flown across the Great River, or the Great Barrier, or any other supernatural seam. I hadn’t turned on the crow-vision. I was here, on Main, staring into the office of The Stars and Stripes.

At least, my shadow was.

I felt like Peter Pan in reverse. Like Wendy had unstitched my shadow from me instead of sewing it back to my feet.

I moved through the wall and into the darkness of the room, only I was even darker. I had no body, but it didn’t matter. I lifted my hand—the shadow of my hand—and thought the words Xavier had taught me.

I watched as the words on the page rearranged themselves. I had no time for riddles. No time for games, hidden messages.

My words were simple.

Five across.

Read, in Spanish.

L. I. B. R. O.

Two down.

Belonging to.

O. F.

Five across.

Lunae.

M. O. O. N. S.

I lowered my hand and disappeared.

My last message, all I had left to say. Lena had figured out how to send me the river rock charm, and she would know how to send the Book to me. I hoped. If not, maybe Macon would.

If Abraham still had it, and Lena could get it away from him.

There were only about a thousand other ifs in between. I tried not to think about them, and all the people they involved. Or the danger that always surrounded The Book of Moons.

I couldn’t afford to think like that. I’d come this far, right?

She would find it, and I would find her.

It was the only Order of Things I cared about now.

BOOK TWO

Lena

CHAPTER 19

Mortal Problems

Sometimes Link could be a real idiot.

“Libro what? Book of Moons? What does that mean?” Link looked from me to The Stars and Stripes, scratching his head. You would have thought I was bringing up the subject for the first time.

“Three words. It’s a book, Link. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” It was only the book that had destroyed our lives, and the lives of all the Casters in my family before me on our sixteenth birthdays.

“That’s not what I meant.” He looked hurt.

I knew what Link meant.

But I didn’t know why Ethan was asking for The Book of Moons any more than Link did. So I just kept staring at the newspaper in the middle of the kitchen.

Amma was behind me, and she didn’t say a word. She’d been that way for a while now—since Ethan. The silence was as wrong as everything else. It was strange to not hear her banging around in her kitchen. Even stranger that we were sitting around Ethan’s kitchen table trying to figure out the message he’d left in today’s crossword puzzle. I wondered if he could see us or knew we were here.

surrounded by strangers who love me

(un)strangers made strange

by pain

I felt my fingers twitch, looking for the pen that wasn’t there. I fought the poetry off. It was a new habit. It hurt too much to write now. Three days after Ethan left, the word NO appeared, inked in black Sharpie on my left hand. WORDS appeared on my right.

I hadn’t written a word since, not on paper. Not in my notebook. Not even on my walls. It seemed like forever since I had.

How long had Ethan been gone? Weeks? Months? It was all one long blur, as if time had stopped when he left.

Everything had stopped.

Link stared up at me from where he was sitting on the kitchen floor. When he unfolded his new quarter-Incubus body like that, he took up most of the kitchen. There were arms and legs everywhere, like a praying mantis, only with muscles.

Liv studied her own copy of the puzzle from the table—clipped and taped into her trusty red notebook, covered in her neatly penciled analysis—while John leaned over her shoulder. The way they moved together, you would think it hurt them not to touch.

Unlike Casters and Mortals.

A human and a hybrid Incubus. They don’t know how good they have it. Nothing catches fire when they kiss.

I sighed, resisting the urge to Cast a Discordia on them. We were all here. You would have thought nothing had changed. Only one person was missing.

Which made everything different.