Forgotten. The spell to layer over the hook worked so well.
I took a breath and tried to push myself upright.
The pain in my chest made me cry out. I couldn’t get enough air.
Diana heard me and turned around. She came back. She offered me her hand. I almost pulled her over, but then I was standing and coughing and gasping. I leaned on her, she leaned on me, and together we hobbled out of the burning woodshop.
Smoke had already started to fill the aisles of the rest of the store. I couldn’t tell my way around. We followed the sound of Echo crashing. She didn’t try to maneuver her way around the twists and turns; she kicked over shelving units and ripped up displays, taking the direct route to the door. Behind her, Ari dragged Cal, and Diana and I helped each other pick our way as quickly as possible over the mountains of junk. We passed the EMTs, but Echo didn’t stop, and they followed us to the exit, shouting, asking if we were okay, trying to figure out where the smoke was coming from.
The door had been propped open halfway, but instead of pushing it the rest of the way Echo’s single kick sent glass and metal flying. We stumbled out onto the street.
Ambulances and fire trucks and police cars swarmed the street, the lights turning it bright as day. EMTs and cops swirled around us, shouting questions; firemen ran into the store with hoses. I refused to let go of Cal’s arm until an EMT pried my hand away; another EMT led him to an ambulance as he clutched his head and cried. I watched him, and my EMT had to repeat herself half a dozen times before I could answer.
“I’m fine,” I said, but she frowned and examined my bruises, fresh and old, as if I might be lying to her. She seemed particularly concerned about my knee. She said I might have torn my ACL. I heard her with only a part of my mind.
I was fine. None of my scars came from that night; none of my wounds were visible.
In the lights and confusion, I lost sight of Cal, and part of me wished I would never have to see him again. Dr. Pitts would say I was avoiding facing my trauma. Or she’d say it was healthy to move on. Either way, she’d have lots to say the next time I saw her.
On the ground near where Cal had been taken away from me I spotted a smushed sandwich bag filled with crumbs: the remnants of the spell Echo had made for me, the one Cal had taken because I told him it would make him forget. My spell. My gracefulness. My future. I didn’t know how long it would last—or even if there was enough power left in the remaining crumbs to do anything at all—but I couldn’t leave it there.
I clenched my teeth, put my weight onto my injured knee, and kicked the bag into the gutter and down the sewer grate.
Diana followed Markos into an ambulance—the first to leave, sirens flashing. Echo stood next to Kay and Mina, sentry-like, as Kay sat on the curb and held her ribs, gasping, and Mina held her hand and leaned Kay’s head on her shoulder. “Do you need me to get an EMT?” I asked.
Kay shook her head. “They’ll get to me.” She spoke in between shallow breaths. “What was in that spell he took?”
Echo answered. “Gracefulness. He’ll be a beautiful dancer.” With a huge exhale she sat on the ground, her sudden burst of energy and strength spent. Her arm was bleeding thick streams of blood onto the sidewalk: the fresh cut, and several others from earlier. She looked extraordinarily pale. When she spoke, her voice faded, word by word. “And it’ll mess him up. More than he already is.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said, then closed her eyes and slumped over onto her side.
“Echo?” She didn’t respond. I dropped to my knees—my poor busted knees—and shook her shoulder. Kay reached for Echo’s wrist to check her pulse, and I held her other hand, just to hold it. The fire blew the windows out of the store with a crash, and she didn’t flinch. “Echo!”
Her eyes didn’t open, but she managed to murmur loud enough for me to hear. “It’s okay, Ari. It was too late for me and my mom. Not with the hook.”
“You could rebalance like you did to Kay—”
“Too many spells. Too many side effects. No more spells.” She exhaled. “No way out.”
“Echo, no—”
“Tell my mom I’m sorry, but it was too late.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “Echo, listen—you can still come with me to New York. Take your mom with you! Find hekamists together. Or if I don’t go to New York we’ll still find a way to save you.” I heard more sirens in the distance, and still Echo didn’t move. “You probably shouldn’t stay here to be questioned—you should get up. They’ll find you, they’ll find out about you, put you and your mom in jail. Please, Echo—you’ve got to get away. Echo—come on—”
No lightning fell from the sky to destroy me. My heart didn’t stop. And that’s when I got really scared.
Her mother’s hook didn’t work anymore.