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Blair nodded. In truth, he knew very little of the mechanics of witchcraft. He’d wished only to stay as far away from it as he could. “So, you’ll use the ring to direct the forgetting spell at Anna?” he asked.

“A quick study,” Clement said with a fleeting smile. “Yes. However, in order for this particular spell to take effect, you, Iris, and Gabriel will need to be in the same room as the witch when the spell is cast.”

The idea of bringing Iris into close quarters with the witch who had terrorized her with images of her dead father was not one he was willing to accept without a challenge. “Isn’t there another option?”

“Are you learned in matters of complex spellcasting, Mr. Saltonstall?”

Blair glowered at him. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.” Clement’s words were clipped. He stood abruptly, buttoning his jacket up to his chin. “In that case, I implore you not to question the only one here who is.”

Without another word, Clement turned his back on him and descended the staircase, leaving Blair with no company but the lengthening shadows.

After a hurried dinner of frozen pizza, Gabriel retreated to his room to pack. He and Clement were leaving within the hour to try to find Anna. Clement had already scoured Vitford and its neighboring towns, and there’d been no trace of her. They figured she must have gone back to wherever she lived; Clement was banking on the New York and Connecticut border, since that was where they had encountered her before, back when they’d been practicing witches in that region.

Iris knocked lightly on Gabriel’s open doorframe, her heart somewhere in her throat. His expression faltered when he saw her.

“Are you sure you have to go?” Iris asked, stepping into his room. A suitcase was open on his bed, clothes thrown in haphazardly. That wasn’t his style at all, but then, Iris knew he was in a hurry. “It’s still snowing. Can’t you wait until morning?”

Gabriel shook his head, running a hand down his face. “I want this taken care of now. This witch, Anna, is volatile. There’s no accounting for what she might do next if we don’t get to her first. Her ability to project illusions is only one of her many talents. We have to find her and put a stop to this.”

“I still don’t understand what she wants from you.” Iris watched Gabriel dig inside the top drawer of his bureau, his perfectly folded shirts thrown into disarray as he searched. At last, he grasped a thick envelope of bills, which he tucked underneath the pile of clothes in his bag.

“Whatever it is, she won’t rest until she gets it. Unless she forgets or is dead. Either way would be fine by me.”

“Gabriel—”

“Iris.” He spun around to face her, gripping her bony shoulders. His eyes brimmed with a wild desperation she’d never seen there before. His next words were hurried, clanking into one another like dominos. “Trust me. We’ll find the witch, come right back home, gather you and Blair, and then we’ll end this. Everything will be alright. I promise.”

But the kiss he placed on her forehead lingered a little too long. It reminded her of the goodbye smile Blair had given her earlier. Two gifts she wanted to reject, to return.

Twenty minutes later, she and Blair watched as Gabriel followed Clement out the front door. He turned around a final time, making them both pledge not to leave the house and promising to text them when he was on his way home. Then, with a final whoosh of icy night air that made the hairs on Iris’ arms stand on end, he shut them inside.

Iris stepped forward, jammed the deadbolt into place with shaking hands, and slumped against the rough wood door. Her eyes met Blair’s, and she knew they were both consumed by the same fear, both as weighed down and confused as stones sinking into murky waters.

“What now?” Blair hugged his arms, shifting restlessly from foot to foot.

Iris shrugged. She bit her nail as she listened to the sound of Clement and Gabriel’s cars trundling up the driveway before accelerating upon reaching the main road. “Now, we wait.”

Blair’s hands flexed around his arms. “I’m not very good at waiting.”

“No.” Iris sighed, flopping onto the couch and curling up against the cushions. “Neither am I.”

She flicked off the table lamp and closed her eyes, her anxious mind buzzing like a honeybee trapped in a jar. What if this was all a trap? What if the witch wanted Gabriel to track her down so that she could ambush him?

There was a rustling noise near the wood stove and Iris peeled her eyes open to find Blair prodding the kindling with a poker. He reached for a few more logs from the crate next to the stove, his hands stilling as his brows knit together in thought. Eventually, he lifted them one by one and tossed them into the fire, closing the cast iron door with a loud creak. He sat on the floor, his gaze faraway.

“You’re not still blaming yourself, I hope,” said Iris, her voice muffled against a throw pillow.

Blair didn’t answer. The flame from the vanilla candle on the coffee table danced across the left side of his face. Shadows rested in the curve of his cheekbone, the hollow under his eye. She watched as the fingers of his right hand went to twist Lucy’s ring, before clearly remembering it wasn’t there.

“What’s that?” Iris pushed herself into a sitting position with her legs curled beneath her. She leaned over the coffee table, having just spotted an official looking letter addressed to Blair from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

Blair spared it a cursory glance. “Oh, yeah. I meant to tell you. My LLC application was officially approved. I’m all set to legally open next week.”

“Blair, that’s incredible!” She reached for the envelope and slid out the note, skimming its contents. “I’m so proud of you. You’re a business owner now. Irideae Apothecary.” She glanced up from the tri-folded letter, noticing Blair’s small smile. “What does Irideae mean?”

“It’s a tribe in the Iridaceae family. The Iris happens to be the largest genus of the Irideae tribe.”