I didn’t recognize the language, but my skin prickled and my free hand moved toward the knife strapped to my back.
“Does anyone else feel that?” whispered Blake.
“Like something’s watching us,” I said. It was similar to the sensation I’d felt in Sage’s room but thankfully not as strong.
Morgan repeated the words two more times, then squeezed four more drops onto the candleflame.
“Is it working?” I asked.
“Sage is someplace outside,” Morgan said slowly. “I can feel the breeze on his face and hands. Most of the others are sleeping, but Mr. Barclay is awake.”
“You can sense him, too?” I asked sharply. “Can he see and hear us right now?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”
If he could, it was too late to do anything about it. “Focus on Sage. What else can you tell me?”
“I smell roses.” Morgan’s nose crinkled. “Grandma, I think he’s at the shop.”
My gut clenched. “Are you sure?”
“He feels different from the others.” Morgan grimaced. “Like he’s wading through a dream.”
I turned to Jenny. “We have to go.”
Temple tapped the hook of his cane to the candle, smothering the flame. Then, while Morgan was blinking and recovering from the spell, Temple yanked the paper from his hand.
“That’s mine.” Morgan reached for it.
Temple’s cane rapped his knuckles.
I turned to my son. “I’ll call as soon as I can. Don’t let Morgan leave the house.”
“Oh, he’s grounded for life plus a hundred years,” said Blake.
Morgan opened his mouth to protest, caught my expression, and shut it. Maybe there was hope for him after all.
“Why would Sage be at your shop?” asked Blake.
“If he’s seeing magic, maybe he was drawn to Second Life.” Or, if Alex knew we were closing in, it could be something much worse.
“Seriously, what happened to my fucking cat?”
CHAPTER17
Temple
Ireread the words of Morgan’s prayer as we drove.Mggoka’ai R’gngyk ngth na’ghtagn. Hotept R’gngyk na’shub.The language was unfamiliar. “R’gngyk...”
Annette turned around from the van’s passenger seat. She probably thought I was having a stroke. “What was that?”
“A name, I believe. Both times Morgan spoke that word, I felt a response. Like he’d hooked something’s attention.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be saying it, then.” Ronnie was cranky about having missed out on Morgan’s stomach eyeball and the ritual. It was affecting his driving, making him speed and take corners too sharply.
“Without the blood and the prayer, I’m pretty certain it can’t hear us,” I said.
“But it heard Morgan.” Annette’s tone was brittle. She didn’t handle fear or helplessness well, let alone both at once.
