“The manager tried calling me six times, but finally just let my stepfather in. He probably had a good story.”
“Very convincing,” I whisper. “He had photos on his phone...”
“He was switching up all my pills. Look, look in the bedroom if you don’t believe me!” she begs.
Alban holds up a hand. “Agatha, I believe you. I trust you. What do you want me to do, bind him to something else? I can do that, just give me an object.”
“Something that can’t hurt him if he comes into this world. Something in this realm that won’t imprison him and make him weak, something that will let him be out here with me. Alban, please, isn’t there something you can attach him to? Something that won’t hurt him?”
My queen. She sits on her knees beside me, pleading with a sorcerer for my life.
I’ve been here before, a thousand years or so ago, but the maiden ran off, and the sorcerer began to enchant in his rage. No one pled for me, certainly not someone so strong and brave as Agatha. “I love you,” I say, feebly gripping her fingers. I don’t care if the warlock hears.
“I love you, too. My legion,” she presses a kiss to the shadows that were once my cheek.
I love that she still calls me that—now, when I am barely one, let alone many.
Alban looks thoughtful. “I’d need to bind him to something that naturally exists in the world, not something man made. Not something that can easily die off, either, like a tree or a potted plant. Something he could regularly—ahem. Something he could regularly unite with to regain strength.” Alban interlocks his fingers and looks away.
“Something human?” Aggie asks, standing up fast. “Me?”
“He’ll live as long as you do—but you can’t get rid of him without magical help, Agatha. It’s risky. If it goes wrong... It could goextremelywrong.”
“If it goes wrong, smash that mirror on your way out,” Agatha says with an imperious lift of her chin.
“Deal—and I’m going to have to have my brother-in-law come over and talk to the manager and do a little write-up on the ‘break-in.’ He’s the local cop. It’ll help with the questions and paperwork that inevitably follow someone’s ‘disappearance’ in Pine Ridge,” Alban sighs.
“Dying now. Police involvement second?” I ask. At least I think I ask. My voice is so faint that I can hardly hear it.
“Now, Alban, now.” Aggie crashes back to her knees, rolling to her side and sliding one arm across my chest. “Don’t worry.I’m here. We’re going to stay together. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“For a thousand lifetimes,” I whisper.
The words fly out of Alban’s mouth so fast that I’m not certain they’re real. Are they gibberish? Are they working? Does the boy have a stutter?
But when I feel Aggie gasp as she squeezes me and her flesh connects with mine—I don’t care. Whatever he’s doing is working. In moments, my joyous screams and the sound of our rolling across the carpet drowns out the Latin and Arnie’s increasingly shrill, desperate pleas to be released and turned back into a human.
“Want me to take that off your hands and dispose of it?” Alban asks when Aggie and I are lying in the corner, weeping and laughing, kissing in relief.
“Hmm. Oh, no.” Aggie gets up and crawls to the mirror. She flips it over with a wince.
Alban is made of stronger stuff than I thought. He looks at the scabby red worm without flinching, his face flat and devoid of emotion. “You became a handsome being of flesh and shadow. In real life, you took on many roles and did some shady things. Your phantasmic form reflects what you were in life. This guy was an infectious parasite.”
“Whore! Slut! You little b—”
Aggie’s heel slams into the glass, and the mirror goes dark and gray instantly. The shards don’t splinter as I always imagined they would, but rather ooze into nothingness, little black rivulets sliding down and then vanishing. She stomps again, and the bits of glass and gold turn to powder. “Excuse me, Alban, I have to get the vacuum.”
“I’ll take the vacuum when you’re done. Gonna cleanse it. Put a few wards and blessings on it. Okay? And maybe have some of my friends come in and bless that carpet, too,” he mutters. “Thatwas nasty. Hey, are you okay, man?” Alban bends down to take my arm and help me up.
“I’m not full strength yet, but I can honestly answer that I have never, ever been better.” I reach for Aggie, and she throws her arms around me again. This time we connect, solid flesh to solid flesh.
“Can you still turn shadowy? Can you still change your appearance?” she asks, patting me all over.
Allover. “We can find out later,” I whisper into her hair, burying my nose in the soft waves, and happy to find that I’m still flooded with the scent of roses and honey.
Alban looks away suddenly, coughing into his fist. “You look like a prime candidate for a kilt, buddy.”
Agatha gasps when she looks down.
