“Yeah. Over in the show barn.” He starts opening Petunia’s pen. The pig opens one eye and watches us warily.
I stop him from getting the door open completely. “Wayne, this is the show barn.”
He snorts. “This isashow barn. Did you really think this was big enough for tomorrow’s show?”
My heart nearly stutters to a stop in my chest. “Show me,” I say in a voice I hardly recognize. “Now.”
It’s bad.
It’s very, very bad.
If I thought the barn we’d been practicing in was big but doable, the show barn we’ll apparently be using tomorrow is in a world all its own. It must be at least twice as big as the other barn, but that’s not the only problem.
Multiple entrances and exits. High-walled pens that don’t give much visibility over them. Concession stands lining the sides, in which anyone could hide anything out of view.
It’s a security nightmare when considering mundane threats. Add in a magical being with the skills The Witch possesses, and this place is a literal death trap.
I swear under my breath.
“Fudge,” Wayne says.
“What?”
He looks at me reproachfully. “My dad says it’s much more respectful to say ‘fudge’ than what you just said.”
I turn to face him. He’s exactly what I’m worried about. Just a kid doing what he loves. Tomorrow, this massive building will be filled with hundreds of innocent people just like Wayne.
And I’m about to fail them all.
I put one hand on his thin shoulder. “Respectfully, Wayne, in this case, I definitely don’t mean ‘fudge.’”
I walk away, leaving him standing there alone in the barn. I don’t go back to the old barn, either. I don’t think I can bear to see everyone working hard to get ready for the show tomorrow when I already know what I have to do.
I walk and walk, leaving the path behind to plunge right into the heart of the park. It’s still pleasantly cool, and I’m glad thatI’m wearing thick boots to keep the dew from soaking through to my feet. The sun is up but still weak, and a few small butterflies take advantage of the teeny yellow wildflowers dotting the grass. The trees seem to close behind me, cutting me off from everyone else involved in the show.
It’s only then that I pull out my cellphone, staring at it in my hand.
Don’t do this, Jensen.
“I don’t have a choice,” I whisper.
You’ll be giving up everything.
“I know.”
You’ll be a failure. Is that what you want to be?
No. Of course I don’t want to be a failure. But the alternative is to risk letting The Witch pull this off. And I can’t have the deaths of who-knows-how-many people on my hands.
I scroll through my contacts until I reach the one I need and hit the call button.
Cressida answers on the third ring. “Give me good news, Jensen. You got her?”
“No, but?—”
“Then why are you bothering me?”
I swallow hard. “Captain, I just got a look at the venue and this isn’t going to work.”
