“Checking to see you’re all right.”

“I don’t mean in the bathroom. I mean here at the dance.” I waved with both hands.

“Oh … I’m chaperoning.”

“Yeah, right. Since when do they let someone like you chaperone?”

Moira’s skin went from tan to red. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She sighed. “Never mind.” She slid her mask back over her face. “You’d better stay out of trouble. And put your mask on. It’s almost midnight.” She swung around, her cape flaring dramatically behind her as she disappeared through the door.

I gaped after her. Unease churned in the pit of my stomach, and I marched out of the bathroom, determined to demand answers.

She had disappeared into the crowd of masked people. I stood there for a couple of minutes, trying to distinguish one person from another. Then finally, I saw someone in a plague doctor mask and cape disappear through one of the doors on the other side of the ballroom. I pushed and stumbled my way through the crowd after her, feeling claustrophobic in the crush of people. I really hoped it was my mother I was following and not someone else wearing the same mask.

The door led into one of the less-used corridors on the backside of Vatticut. It was empty, but there were only two ways to go—to the right toward the front entrance or to the left into the tunnels. My gut told me left, and I hurried as fast as I could down the slope.

The farther in I went, the more I considered giving up the pursuit. Coming this way was a bad idea. It was dark down here. It was Samhain. That was enough to scare a braver soul than me. But then I heard footsteps ahead and curiosity spurred me onward. The sound of my own footsteps striking the stone floor was so loud the person was bound to hear it.

I hiked up the hem of my dress so I could kick off my shoes. I froze halfway through the motion, startled by the thump of heavier footsteps approaching behind me. I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. I raised my hand, ready to cast a dazing spell, but stopped when I saw who it was. Eli. Once again, he wasn’t wearing his mask.

“What are you doing?” I said, half-annoyed, half-relieved by his presence.

He came to a halt mere inches from me. “Following you.”

“Why?”

“It looked like you were onto something, and it’s not safe to be running around down here alone.”

“Do you have to be so nosy?” I looked back the way I’d been heading. “She’s probably long gone now.”

He stepped beside me, close enough I felt my dress move around my legs. “You’re following somebody? Is it about the dream?”

“No. Now go away. This—” The words died on my lips as the sound of someone screaming echoed down the tunnel toward us.

Eli and I glanced at each other, then we both broke into a run toward the sound. I kicked off my shoes as I went, worried I’d break an ankle sprinting on the uneven surface. Eli raced ahead of me, but I didn’t mind. I was glad not to be alone. The screaming continued, growing louder and more agonized by the second, filling me with terror. Images from the dream last night blazed in my brain. The scream was so high-pitched, so inhuman, surely it had to be some kind of creature, like a Minotaur.

As we came around a corner into a small chamber at the intersection of several tunnels, we spotted the source of those screams. It was a man.

He was on fire.

14

Dead End

For a few terrible seconds, I stood there, motionless, unable to think.

The person fell to his knees, writhing on the floor in a horror-movie parody of stop, drop, and roll.

“Do something!” Eli shouted, pulling off his coat and trying to get close enough to slap at the flames. But they were too high and strong.

I could only stare. This couldn’t be happening.

“Do something!” Eli shouted again. “Put it out! Magic up some water already.”

I blinked, my brain finally breaking through the terror. I raised my shaking hand, and said, “Hydro-rhe.”

Faint, blue sparks shot sluggishly out of my fingertips, the magic weak and insubstantial. What little water the spell produced only made the flames hiss and smoke.

What was wrong with me? This spell was simple. It should be easy.

“Hydro-rhe!” I said, louder and harder this time. Faint streaks again. More hissing. The man’s screams were growing softer, his thrashing slower.

“Hydro-rhe! Hydro-rhe! Hydro-rhe!” Tears blurred my vision. I couldn’t do it. I was just a pathetic excuse for magickind, incapable of a simple water spell. “Hydro-rhe … Hydro-rhe.” I fell to my knees saying it over and over again.

Eli knelt beside me and placed a hand on my arm. “Come on, Dusty. You can do this.”

A surge of power stirred inside me at his touch, like the kind I felt when I first entered someone’s dream. “Hydro-rhe!” I screamed, reaching out with both hands.

Brilliant blue sparks flew out from my fingertips and transformed into a shower of water as strong as a burst fire hydrant, putting the flames out in seconds.

It didn’t matter.

“Oh, God, Dusty. Don’t look.” Eli moved in front of me, shielding me with his body, but it was too late. I saw enough. I saw everything.

I even knew who it was—had been.

“It’s … it’s…” I stuttered as my brain processed the sight of jeans and sandals, charred black.

“Mr. Ankil,” said Eli. “His hand is gone. Just like Rosemary.”