I looked between them. “That will hide the wearer?”
She smiled grimly and poured the mixture carefully on the earrings and cufflinks, then let it set. Thirty minutes later, I felt nothing from the jewelry. No magic of any kind. Each piece was neutered. And when Constantine lifted one, I could no longer feel him.
I quickly made him put it back down, getting a taste of what he’d felt when Stavros had severed me.
“You are certain the spells still exist underneath?” I asked, rubbing at my elbow.
Stevens lifted an earring and turned it between her fingers, the feel of her going blank, as if her magic no longer existed. “Without price, this potion, and only three vials in existence—the formula lost to the world in the mind of a scientist who fell with The Golden City. Apropos that we use it for this.”
To stop the end of a world.
Her gaze lifted to mine. “Two steps before the end, Ren. We are counting on you. Hold your emotions tight.”
She tucked the earrings and cufflinks carefully into her cloak pocket and left without further fanfare or farewell. Constantine gazed at the pocket where she had stored the jewelry with something close to desire as she disappeared.
I poked him in the side. “What say you we figure out how to make that potion, after?”
Hooded eyes shifted to me. “Marry me.”
“I thought we were already engaged?” I asked, yawning.
“Don't say such lovely things, darling. I'll hold you to them.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “I'd probably be fine in a harem, actually. More people to do science with.”
“I don't think you understand what a harem is.” He looked amused, though, which had been my point.
With Stevens' departure, we were far past a thirty-hour cycle inside, and fatigue was catching up.
I yawned again. “Oh, I almost forgot. I figured out what we needed while working with Stevens. Vampire containers.”
He raised a brow. “Vampire containers?”
“Evil ones. You know, you stick one against someone and”—I sucked in my cheeks—“drained. My magic to create the container, yours to make the person pass out, and Axer's to leech it all in. We can probably get some of Neph in there, too, to make the person have good dreams. Don't have to be totally evil about it, though the people we are going to use them against totally deserve it.”
He bent down and looked me in one eye, then the other.
“I haven't been possessed.”
“Right.” He straightened back up. “You want to make containers that drain a mage's powers? You want to give me an army of zombie magic? I accept.”
“No, that's not what I—”
He smiled.
I pointed. “You'll be working with Axer on it.”
His smile grew. He leaned in. “Cute, that you think Alexi won't put in worse.”
My fingers triangled over my brows and pushed out above my closed eyes. “Con.”
“We'll get it done. No worries.”
“Now I'm really worried.”
“You should have thought of that before trusting either of us, and especially both of us together.”
“Ugh.” But I couldn't stifle a third yawn.
“Come on.” He shifted me toward the sleeping nest that Neph had constructed at some point while I wasn't looking.
I looked at her suspiciously, then up at Constantine, then to Neph again. “Did you make me tired?”
She looked back with a raised brow. “After you've been working nonstop in a draining temporal environment for thirty hours on end? Would I have to?”
I looked between her and Constantine, then face planted in the pillows and turned to burrow deeper. “You can't fool me. I'm on to you both.”
Like me cashing it in was a signal to everyone else, the others abandoned their half-finished projects and flocked over to talk, tease, and relax.
Our connections gleamed, and I touched them all and smiled.
Sleeping arrangements turned hilarious, though, as everyone hunkered down to get a few hours rest. Neph was uninterested in any sleeping position that wasn't plastered against my side. Olivia quickly claimed the other side, glaring at both boys, who seemed more amused than anything.
I let sleep take me, and followed the gold threads to where I knew they would lead.
Chapter Twenty-six: Shadowed Plots
Raphael was sitting on the sand, staring out at a vast ocean in the twilight. Stars whirled in the heavens of the dreamscape.
“I loved the sea once,” he said, his only acknowledgment of me sitting beside him. “Until all those Kinsky’s with their salt spray. I specifically started targeting the ones with ocean backgrounds after a while.”
“Which ones were successful?”
“Jauvine, Cadmiat. It was easier to narrow options once I had your magic. I nearly had the first, as well, lucky number one, but Stavros moved the painting in Salietrex just in time. But too much time has passed, he's remade one of the two I did get, at the very least.”
Neither Constantine or Axer would call the location lucky.
“We are going to destroy the remaining seals,” I said quietly.
He lifted a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers. “And by the hand of victory, you shall be delivered into the arms of old,” he murmured.
“You don't think we can do it?”
“I do not doubt you will try. I grow weary, Butterfly. Infected by figments of the past.” I could see a shimmering golden tattoo twine along his skin. “What will be wrought from it, I cannot say.”
“I need your knowledge, but without riddle as we draw near the end. And I need to know how to craft one of your spells.”
He smiled. “You solved my riddles just fine, Butterfly. And it was a game that made me experience an emotion I had thought forever lost. One for which I thank you. No, don't look at me like that.” He looked away. “I can experience no regret, not if you want me of sound mind to help here upon the shore of nevermore.”
I looked at the stars, willing my dream eyes to dry. “You've seen Stavros. Physically. Face-to-face.”
“Yes. He's worse in person, if you can conceive such a thing. The embodiment of all that is soulless.” He looked at me. “Though perhaps you can believe such—he was almost present, inside of you.”
I shuddered, but pressed on. “Did he visit you physically in the Basement?”
“No.” Raphael reached out and swirled the air around me dipping into shared memories. “He didn't even visit in his own form in the painting you entered. You have to go deeper.”
I nodded. “He can embed himself in others remotely—that's how he got me. But the drones, the truly hollowed, and you—initially must be delivered to him in some way.”
Raphael held up his palm and the sky swirled with an unpleasant memory, showing me an image. “There was a spot in the Basement that opened.”