I looked her in the eye, my mind running through all the movies and books about King Arthur. The influence of that myth was everywhere, even on campus, depicted in statues and artwork. “Then what’s the true story?” I asked.
Moira waved the question off. “No time for that now. The important thing for you to know is that the sword is the power source for The Will.”
I gulped, a tremor of fear rippling through me. The power source of a magical spell was essentially the spell itself, the heart of it. “Are you saying the killer is trying to break The Will?” It was suddenly hard to breathe, as if someone had punched me in the chest.
“Either that or he’s trying to gain control over it. The sword is what makes The Will possible. Whoever controls the sword controls The Will. They will wield the same level of power. Power they can use over anyone and everyone. However they choose.”
I thought about Rosemary, lying dead in the cemetery, her body bruised and mutilated, and of Mr. Ankil, his body a ruin of burned flesh. There was no doubt the killer would use it to do even more evil.
Mom stood, a triumphant look in her eyes. “So, now that you understand the danger, stay out of it.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Moira spun around at the sound of someone entering the room. The duty nurse’s eyes registered surprise, but before she could react, my mother pointed her hand and said, “Amnes-somni.”
The nurse’s face went slack. She stood there, motionless and senseless. I didn’t recognize the spell, but I had no doubt it was an illegal one.
“What are you doing?” I said.
Moira turned back and pointed her hand at me. I was asleep again before she finished uttering the spell.
* * *
When I woke next, it was to the feel of warm light on my face. In less than a heartbeat, all the details of the night before came rushing into my mind.
Mr. Ankil.
Dead.
Another victim. Another death my useless dream-seer powers had been unable to prevent.
And a killer, determined to conquer The Will.
I heard the sound of ruffling paper and slid my eyes open, glancing around for the source. When I saw Eli sitting in a chair next to me with a magazine in his hands, I closed them again. I tried to remain perfectly still, willing myself unconscious. I wasn’t ready to face anybody, least of all him.
“You can stop pretending,” Eli said. “I can see your eyes moving behind your eyelids.”
I peered over at him. “It’s not called Rapid Eye Movement for nothing.”
He smiled. “You must be feeling better if you’re being snotty already.”
I wasn’t feeling better, worse actually, but I didn’t say anything, hoping to avoid the topic of feelings at all costs.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. He was wearing regular clothes again, but he didn’t appear as if he’d slept much.
Eli set down the magazine on the table in between the chair and the hospital bed. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
I blinked in surprise at the sincerity in his words. For the first time ever he didn’t look menacing or dangerous. Instead he looked like I felt—scared, exhausted, and guilt-ridden.
I sat up and stretched, realizing too late that I was braless beneath the infirmary robe. I wrapped my arms around my chest and looked around, hoping he didn’t notice my blush. “I’m feeling a little better. But what’s been happening?”
Eli grimaced. “Not much. They haven’t caught the killer or anything.”
I swallowed, resisting the urge to be sick. My throat ached, and my tummy felt hollow. Of course they hadn’t found him. Someone powerful and crazy enough to go after The Will spell wasn’t going to be caught easily. “Has Paul been by?” I said, searching for an easier topic.
“He was here, but his uncle came and made him leave.” Eli glanced at the door. “Selene should be back soon. She’s getting something to drink.”
“Oh. Does she … know what happened?”
Eli scowled. “She’s not supposed to. The sheriff and those guys are telling people Ankil’s death was an accident caused by a lighting spell backfiring on him due to the ‘instability of magic during Samhain’ or some nonsense,” he said, finger-quoting. “You and I are supposed to play along. But Selene cornered me and made me tell her the truth.”
I smiled at the exasperation in his voice. “Yeah, Selene can be forceful when she wants to be.”
“No kidding. Are all your friends like that?”
I dropped my eyes, not wanting to look at him. “She’s my only true friend. Here at least.”
When Eli didn’t respond, I fixed my gaze on the door, hoping Selene would get back soon. I wasn’t surprised Ankil’s death was being played off as an accident, but it felt wrong. He deserved better.
“I’m sorry,” Eli said, his voice throaty with emotion.
I looked at him. “What for?”
“Everything. Especially for not making more of an effort to work as a team.” He stood up and started pacing. “I was just so pissed, you know? About leaving my old life. Coming here to this strange place. And I hate feeling like the only kid on the short bus.” He stopped midstride and faced me. “I blamed you at first, but that’s stupid and doesn’t matter. I know it’s not your fault. And now I can’t help thinking that maybe if we’d been friends from the start, we would’ve been more focused on the dreams. Then maybe we could’ve done something to save Mr. Ankil.”