“We’re leaving tomorrow,” I say. “To meet the Order of the Blah Blah Blah.”

“The Order of the what?” Carmel asks, and when I don’t, Thomas explains. I listen with half an ear, chuckle at his pronunciation, and supply factoids when asked.

“The journey is going to be a test,” I say “And I don’t think it’ll be the last one.” Jestine’s comment about enjoying the thrill of the challenge is still bubbling in my stomach. Enjoy it. Why would I enjoy it? Except that I do, sort of, and for exactly the reasons she described. And that’s pretty sick when you think about it.

“Listen,” I say. “Let’s take a walk.”

They get up and exchange a glance, catching the ominous vibe.

“Just make it a short walk, okay?” Carmel mumbles. “I don’t know what I was thinking flying in these boots.”

Outside, the sun is out and the sky is cloudless. We head for the cover of trees so we can talk without squinting.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asks when we stop.

“Gideon told me something before he left. Something about the Order and Jestine.” I shuffle. It still sounds so impossible. “He said they were training her to take my place.”

“I knew you shouldn’t trust her,” Thomas exclaims, and turns to Carmel. “I knew it the minute she cursed him in the alley.”

“Look, just because they groomed her for the position doesn’t mean that she’s going to try to steal it. Jestine isn’t the problem. We can trust her.” Thomas clearly thinks I’m a dope. Carmel reserves judgment. “I think we can. And you’d better hope we can. She’s taking us through the Scottish Highlands tomorrow.”

Carmel cocks her head. “You don’t have to use that accent when you say ‘Scottish Highlands.’ You know as well as we do that this isn’t a joke. Who are these people? What are we walking into?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. But don’t expect them to be happy to see me.” It’s an understatement. I keep thinking of the way Jestine spoke outside the chapel at the Tower of London, and the reverent way she looks at the athame. To these people, I’ve committed sacrilege.

“If they want Jestine to take over, what does that mean for you?” Carmel asks.

“I don’t know. I’m banking on the idea that their respect for the athame extends at least partway to the original bloodline of the warrior.” I glance at Thomas. “But when they find out what I want to do with Anna, they’re going to fight it. It wouldn’t hurt to have Morfran’s voodoo network up my sleeve.”

He nods. “I’ll tell him.”

“And after you do, you should both stay here. Wait for me here, at Gideon’s. He’ll watch my back. I don’t want you guys getting into it.”

Their faces are pale. When Carmel slides her hand into Thomas’s, I can see it shake.

“Cas,” she says gently, and looks me right in the eyes. “Shut up.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

The train ride feels long. Which doesn’t make sense. It should feel short and too soon, my nerves should be shot, wondering what the f**k I’m going to find on the other end of the track. The cautionary speeches of my mom, and Morfran, and Gideon roll back and forth between my ears. I hear my dad too, telling me the way he always used to, that there’s never an excuse to not be afraid. He said the fear kept you sharp, that it kept you steadfastly holding on to your life. Rapid heartbeats to keep that heartbeat fresh in your mind. It’s maybe the one piece of his advice that I threw away. I had my share of fear in the years after his murder. And besides, when I think of his death, I don’t like to think that he died afraid.

Outside, there’s nothing but stretches of green, lined with trees. The countryside is still pastoral, and if I saw a carriage roll through one of the fields I wouldn’t blink. There’s so much of it that it may as well go on forever. It didn’t take long for the city to fade out behind us after we left the station at King’s Cross.

I’m sitting with Jestine, who has clammed up and is strung tight as a bow. This is what she’s been waiting for her whole life, I suppose. My replacement. The thought of it sticks in my throat. But if that’s what it takes, will I do it? If that’s the price of saving Anna, if we get there and all they ask me to do in exchange is politely hand over my father’s athame, will I do it? I’m not sure. I never thought that I wouldn’t be sure.

Across the compartment, Carmel and Thomas sit side by side. They’re talking a little, but mostly staring out the window. Since Carmel got here, what we’re doing feels mostly like playacting, trying to get our old dynamic back when it’s obviously been altered. But we’ll keep trying, until we get it right.