“Or what the spell is,” I admitted bleakly.

Ezra drifted toward my link chart. Socks stared at him with feline suspicion as he gazed down at it. “Should we assume the stolen spell is abjuration?”

“Why would we assume that?” I asked.

“Because the sorcerers are abjuration experts. What are the chances they’re experts in two branches of sorcery?”

Amalia slapped her hand against her knee. “That makes sense. Abjuration is too intensive. It’s probably all they’ve ever studied. That, or a closely related Arcana branch.”

Closely related …

“We might be able to find similar spells in the grimoire,” she added. “Robin hasn’t had a chance to translate the whole thing yet.”

Similar spells …

Ezra crouched to read a flashcard from my link chart. “Claude seems like a man with a plan, and that worries me. If he’s gone to such lengths to get these spells, they must be valuable—or powerful. What kind of abjuration would—”

“Not abjuration,” I whispered.

He and Amalia looked at me.

“Arcana Fenestram.” The words rasped from my throat. “Abjuration and portal magic are related branches. Amalia, what if one of the stolen spells is a portal?”

Her eyes bugged out. “But I thought that was in the amulet—”

“Anthea created the spell. It would’ve been in the grimoire too—but not all of it. She left something out—the missing piece the sorcerers were talking about! It was her fail-safe!”

“Then Claude—”

“He wants the portal magic. That’s what he wanted all along.” I shoved to my feet, hands clenched. “Amalia, that’s what’s so valuable about the grimoire. Not the demon names but the spells. The portal.”

Ezra looked between us with an arrested expression.

Amalia stood as well. “That’s why your mom wouldn’t give my dad a single demon name.”

“And that’s why our ancestors have been hunted for four thousand years. That’s why so many Athanas women died protecting the book—to keep the portal spell out of the wrong hands.”

“But Claude has it and—”

“—and he’s going to cast the spell”—I pressed my hands to my cheeks, my body cold—“tonight. He’s casting it tonight.”

We stood in silence, staring at each other. I saw my own horror reflected in her wide gray eyes—and my guilt. We’d failed. Thousands of years, nearly a hundred generations, and we were the ones who’d failed to protect the grimoire spells.

Heat buzzed against my chest, then crimson flashed. Zylas materialized in the middle of the room, his tail lashing side to side.

“We will find him,” the demon declared.

“But how?” I asked, defeated. “He could be anywhere—”

“Not if he plans to open a portal,” Amalia cut in. “He isn’t going to do that in his mom’s basement, is he? And a spell of that magnitude can’t be cast just anywhere. They said they needed clear skies, right? That means the spell has an astral element and needs to be performed outdoors.”

“Plus the location will need to be private,” Ezra added. “He won’t want anyone seeing what he’s doing.”

I pressed a hand to my forehead. “That barely narrows it down. He—”

Zylas’s red eyes fixed on me. “What do you know about the enemy?”

“He—I don’t—” I took a deep breath, then crossed the room to join Ezra at the link chart. I stared down at it—at all the players and victims surrounding Claude. “He uses others. Even when he works with people, I don’t think he trusts them. He has pawns, not allies.”

Ezra nodded.

“Even when he wasn’t in charge of something,” Amalia said, joining us, “he always ended up making all the decisions. I saw that a lot with him and my dad.”

“Everything Claude does has a purpose.” I rubbed my temples. “Even if the purpose isn’t obvious. And he’s patient … He plans a lot of steps ahead.”

We all analyzed the chart, trying to sift through the puzzle pieces.

“Golems,” Zylas said abruptly, and I jumped. I hadn’t realized he was right behind me. “They have no purpose, na?”

My brow furrowed. “Claude traded them to Varvara for something … and he got what he wanted. He said that last night.”

“If he’s been working toward this spell all along,” Ezra murmured, “then whatever he got from Varvara could be related.”

“Did he say anything else last night?” Amalia asked. “Did he mention anything related to a location?”

“He said someone had been meddling and he mentioned a … a court, but—”

“What? A court?”

I jolted, caught off guard by Ezra’s change in tone.

“What did he say?” he demanded, the air chilling around him. “His exact words.”

Before I could speak, Zylas answered for me.

“He said, ‘I can’t linger for long.’” His imitation of Claude’s tone and cadence was perfect. “‘Someone has been meddling in our affairs, and if they go so far as to trespass in the Court, I intend to be waiting for them.’”

Right. Zylas had been there too, and his memory was far better than mine.

Ezra was silent—his face completely blank, his bronze skin bleached of color. For a long moment, he didn’t move, staring at nothing. Reaching up slowly, he pressed his fingers to his chin, and his lips formed a soundless word.

“Ezra?” I whispered.

“Impossible,” he rasped, not seeming to see the room.

Zylas jabbed him in the arm. He started, jerking away from the demon. His gaze flashed around the room, then he pulled out his phone and rapidly tapped on the screen. “I’m sorry. I just—give me a minute here.”

I frowned.

Amalia shot him a “what the hell” look, then turned to Zylas. “Okay, Mr. Super Memory. Did Claude say anything else interesting?”

Zylas shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. What is interesting?”

“Not helpful, demon boy.” She paced away from the link chart. “If Claude has the grimoire page and the sorcerers figured out the missing piece, what else does he need? Ingredients, a location, clear skies—”