The conjurers—the Bard, the Clark, Primus, and Last—all of them conjured at the same moment. The floor opened like a giant Venus flytrap. Its maw snapped wide, leaving only air beneath Celia and Ragnor. Vines slithered on the walls, and as Celia and Ragnor conjured ropes to pull them up to the ceiling, the vines grabbed them and yanked them into the pit. A flood of frothing water slammed over them. Jacob was at the edge of the pit. He balanced precariously on the rumbling earth, his arms pinwheeling. Then the maw shuddered, and he lost his balance. He might have recovered, but a gust of wind hit him and shoved him into the roiling water. At the splash, the pit snapped shut, swallowing the three of them.
The Bard let out a startled, delighted laugh. “Well. That worked out better than I thought.”
“Better?” Last grabbed her dress, shaking out the embers. “This is better? I want my groom!”
The ground began to rumble. It shifted, and I caught myself on a column.
The conjurers looked around, tensing.
I ran across the hall, jumping over fallen rocks, then skidded to my knees. Luvic’s face was ashen, the skin around his throat mottled and gray.
He was in the wedding tux I’d seen him wearing in the hall. The deep red rose was still in his buttonhole, but now, it wasn’t the only splash of red on him. His white shirt was soaked with blood.
I held my fingers to his throat. Nothing. I felt nothing. No pulse. No breath.
But then. Yes! The faintest throb. He was still alive. Barely.
The ground groaned again. Then it shook and growled like an angry beast.
“I don’t think they’re dead,” Last whispered.
“The Ward,” Primus said. “He won’t be happy.”
“It wasn’t meant for him,” the Bard murmured, staring uncomfortably at the bucking floor.
I rifled through my purse, pulling out Rou’s Perk Me Up powder. My hands shook as I unlatched the pillbox. I licked my pointer and swiped it through the white powder, then I shoved the medicine into Luvic’s mouth.
“Come on,” I whispered. “Come on.”
If it worked, then Luvic would open his eyes in seconds. I held my breath, counting. One. Two. Three. Four.
No.
Five.
I let out my breath.
Nothing.
The ground bucked. I was thrown a foot in the air and then slammed back to the ground. My knees stung.
The Clark shouted and threw a pile of boulders on top of the space where the ground had eaten Celia, Ragnor, and Jacob.
Luvic’s pulse stuttered under my fingers. Last crouched next to me, her black dress scattering around her like funeral petals. Her cheeks were smeared with dirt and blood, and her hair hung limply around her gaunt face. She stared with a wild, angry expression at Luvic’s pale form.
“They switched during the explosion. Did you see it? They’re like chameleons. If I hadn’t been watching him, I’d never have known. Why do you think they did it? Did they know the Smiths would try to kill the Bard? Does he care so much about his principal he’ll die for him?” She sounded disgusted by the idea. “I suppose he’s loyal. It’s a good trait in a husband.” She turned her dark eyes to me. “Save him. Save him, or I’ll kill you.”
I gripped Luvic’s arm. His skin was cooling. “Why do you think I can save him?”
“I don’t. But I’ll be angry when he dies, and killing creatures always makes me feel better.”
The ground thrust upward again, and I held onto Luvic as the stone bucked and rumbled.
My hands were coated in his blood, but the flow had slowed. I could untie the illusion of the spear, but that would leave a hole in his chest. What could I do?
A quick chirp sounded. I looked down at the noise. There was a movement in my purse. The cricket had hopped inside it. Its brown skin was covered in sticky red. Its wings fluttered agitatedly.
I let out a harsh breath, but then my eyes widened as I saw a golden glint. The cricket was crawling over the “take in event of emergency” vial. A quick, hopeful bubble rose in my chest. I grabbed the vial and uncorked the lid.
