Lady pulled the thread from Cassius and hooked her needle into the bottom of the tear in my shadow. The needle burned like a branding iron . . .
We stow our bikes outside Sam Ash Music on Sunset Boulevard. I am going to buy my first guitar. I’ve been saving for months. I can’t wait . . .
“His pulse is weak,” said Church, clutching my wrist. “Hold on, my boy.” “It’s deeper than I thought,” Lady said, pulling more Essiene thread from Cassius’s shadow. He grimaced and grit his teeth.
Chuey opens the door. But before we go in, I see Mama’s old Dodge in front of Ardells Pastries next door. Mama used to bring me here every Saturday for a malt . . .
Lady pulled the thread again through my shadow. The pain sizzled down my spine, and my body started to convulse.
I turn toward Ardells’ window and put my hand against the glass to see through the glare. Mama is sitting at a table with a man and a little girl. She has a wedding ring. She looks so happy . . .
“We’re losing him,” Lady said. She sounded miles away. She jabbed me faster, whipping the needle through my shadow. Cassius slumped against her. I felt the Meadow winds calling me.
Mama looks up from her malt and sees me. Her smile fades. The little girl turns to see what she’s looking at. She has the same wine-splash birthmark on her neck that Mama and I have . . .
“It’s refusing to close,” Lady said. “His soul won’t take the last suture . . . I think he’s letting go.”
“Jack!” yelled Church. “Damn it, boy, hang on.” “Ese!” shouted Chuey.
Maybe that’s what Mama wanted all along. A daughter. Mama doesn’t smile or wave or anything. She just sits, watching me, like she’s waiting for me to go away . . .
“Jack.” It was Cassius, whispering in my ear. “Can you hear me, Jack?”Mama waves over the waitress and gestures toward me. My heart starts pounding. I smile and wave at Mama. The waitress walks over to the windowand drops the blinds . . .
A world away I heard Cassius. “For our third option, Jack. Fight for our third option.”
Chuey grabs my shirt and yanks me away from the window. He muscles me to the door of Sam Ash and shoves me inside. The music of beating drums and electric guitars washes over me . . .
“Ah . . . got it!” said Lady. “It’s sealed.”
I drew a harsh breath and coughed. I couldn’t speak, and a haunting, painful silence settled around us. The stitches in myshadow shimmered silver-grey around the long, ragged, lake-shaped scar I’d come to recognize.
A few yards away lay the dead wraith. Without it, we couldn’t renew the ward. The Iron Horse barrier would collapse, and Brach would use the Abyssal Steps to find the song he needed for his revolution. We were running out of ways to try and stop him.
“You should have let it have me,” Cassius said, his voice softly breaking the silence. “Used the time to bind it. You keep choosing the wrong thing, Jack.”
I swallowed and struggled to speak. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, Cassius, but helping you isn’t one of them.”
The centurion took hold of my arm with his firm grip. “I am happier to know you today than I was yesterday, Jack Solomon.” Always made me feel good to shake his hand like that.
Thinking of Jimmy and Angela, I said, “At least it won’t kill any more musicians, huh?”
I rested a few moments, then called Lakshmi to brief her. She didn’t answer, so I left a voicemail telling her everything that had gone down and where to find the wraith’s body. I also texted Emaline: Henry’s place. 9:00 am. When I could stand, I first gathered the Orcus thread from the cedar tree—it didn’t thrum as violently as it had before and felt a bit more comfortable in my hands. Then my friends and I hobbled through Highgate Cemetery back to Old Lada. No one spoke all the way home to the Horse. As we neared the venue, I spotted five Shiguan thanatists and at least a dozen vestiges prowling the ward’s perimeter. It had receded several more yards. They eyed us as we ducked inside.
In the greenroom, I collapsed onto the couch. Lady made me drink something that tasted of allspice, and I crashed to the sound of Queen playing “Tie Your Mother Down” on the house PA—Lady’s comfort music. When I woke, Lady was still there.
“How long was I out? What time is it?”
She checked her watch. “About seven hours, Jack. It’s just past eight.” “I’ve got to go,” I said, and tried to stand. I got halfway up and sat back down.
“Easy, Jack. How do you feel?”
“Like I just spent ten hours in a mosh pit.” “In here, I mean.” She tapped her chest.
A rush of images spun into my head. “Raw,” I said. “But not weak, if that makes any sense.”
“You and Cassius now share a unique bond. If the sutures remain, that is.”
I remembered the scar I’d seen in her shadow days ago and found it again now. “You’ve had your own shadow surgery, haven’t you?”
