I can't breathe. This isn't possible. I shake my head, but there it stays, the scene playing out before my eyes. Mom soars out from under the interstate bridge, and the fields are endless before her. I can feel her sense of freedom, of having the whole world at the tip of her fingers.

As she flies and flies, I notice a small wisp of purple smoke. It trails all the way to me, to Mom's gla.s.s pendant resting on my chest. I gasp when I touch it and the image disappears, like I put my hand over the projector light.

Luckily, I didn't ruin whatever spell I triggered. I'm not sure how I got it to work, but I hope it gives me something-anything-before it wears off.

The scene changes. Mom is outside the ivy house with two young girls who look like Tessa and Prudence Craft, with their long, fair braids. They comb through the brush in a manner I quickly recognize as snake hunting. Prudence lets out a bloodcurdling scream, and Tessa laughs as Mom pulls a serpent from Pru's ankle. At a second glance, I realize it's plastic. Even I laugh at that. Prudence afraid of snakes? I have to use that information.

After watching a particularly homey Christmas, complete with chestnuts roasting on an open fire, I am pretty sure this is a store of Mom's favorite moments. I've never heard of such a charm, but I want to kiss it. I don't, because it might stop the reel of lavender memories.

The next is another familiar scene-a Halloween Ball, with witches packed into every corner of an old house. Mom is with the Crafts again, and they're laughing as they consume enormous caramel apples covered in chocolate and nuts. Mom stops, her sight focusing on a girl sitting in the hallway with her head to her knees.

"I'll be back in a second," she says to the Crafts.

Mom sits next to the girl in the hall, who jumps. Her eyes are watery, and I'm guessing blue from their pale hue. Her hair is fair as well, and stick straight. "Who're you?" she says to Mom in a timid, high voice.

"I'm Carmina Hemlock. What's your name?"

The girl's eyes go wide with what I think is recognition. "Anastacia Black. But everyone calls me Stacia."

I freeze. Here she is: the girl I'll never meet, but who clearly has everything to do with what has happened to us. And she's Levi's mother? But his hair is so dark, and his eyes are almost black like Nana's.

"Do you like caramel apples?" Mom asks.

Stacia wipes away her remaining tears and nods.

Mom plucks a rose from a nearby vase and turns it into a big, juicy apple. She hands it to Stacia, who offers the smallest smile. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me."

"That can't be true."

Stacia eyes the apple as if Mom gave her a purebred Persian kitten. "I've never had any friends."

"I'll be your friend."

"You really shouldn't." Her eyes are the saddest I've ever seen in my life. They tug at me, as if they've witnessed more than any little girl should. In that moment, I understand why Mom never let go of Stacia Black.

Mom tilts her head. "Why not?"

Stacia takes in a deep breath, the kind that comes before one shares a secret, but then someone bangs on my door and the lavender images are gone. I shake the pendant frantically, as if that'll reactivate the spell. Nothing happens.

Another knock.

"Go away!" Rubbing the pendant, I push back angry tears. I lost the only connection I've had to my mother in years. I want it back.

"Jo, please." Though Kat's voice is m.u.f.fled through the heavy wood, I can tell she's upset. "I know you're hurting right now. I've tried to give you the s.p.a.ce you need, but something happened. And I don't think it was an accident."

She's not lying. When I let myself feel more than my own grief, there's something in her that is nearly frantic. I force myself up and break the spell on the door. Kat's face is tear streaked and tired. "What happened?"

Her lips quiver as she tries to keep it together. "Gwen's house caught fire in the middle of the night, and she didn't wake up."

I should say something, but the words won't come. All I can see is the picture Levi sent, his cruel words on the back.

I spy with my little eye. . .

I can't ask if one of my best friends is dead.

THIRTY-ONE.

My knees give out, but Kat keeps me standing. "She's alive, Jo. I should have realized you thought she might be . . . she's not dead." Hearing that gives me enough strength to pull it together. I take a deep breath, shoving the grief over Nana and my mom into a little box for later. Gwen comes first. "How bad is it? What happened? Is her family safe?"

"I don't know exactly." Kat goes to my armoire and rifles through my clothes. "Mrs. Lee called me from the hospital. I guess her parents and siblings escaped once they smelled the smoke, but then they realized Gwen wasn't there. Her dad went back in for her, and she wouldn't wake up even when he shook her, so he carried her out."

I grab my phone, feeling like the most selfish person in the world for turning it off. Sure enough, when I listen to the messages, half of them are from Mrs. Lee, telling me they're at the hospital in Denison. "She's in a coma?"

Kat tosses me a pair of jeans and a shirt. "Yeah, but I have a feeling she would have been dead if it weren't for . . ." She touches her charms.

"The spell must have been really bad if it still put her in a coma."

She heads for the door "Get ready. I'll ask Dorothea what we should bring to fix it."

Once I'm dressed, I rush down the stairs. My dad and Kat stand in the entryway. Their hushed tones obviously mean they're talking about me, and the accompanying guilty looks don't help their case.

Kat holds up a bag. "She said you'd know what to do with this."

I take it and peer in. This stuff should definitely help fix whatever has happened. Too bad I don't know the exact curse-it would make it easier to decide on the antidote. "So we have transportation?"

She gnaws on her lip. "I called Winn. He should be here soon."

"Oh." My stomach does all kinds of flips. I'm not sure if they're good or bad ones. I haven't talked to him in a few days-not since I found out he's living in my great-great-aunt's house.

"Be safe," my dad says when Winn's lights shine outside.

I don't answer, but instead give him a long, pained look. What am I supposed to say? Sure, we'll be safe trying to save Gwen from a botched murder attempt. Nothing will go wrong. I'm never a.s.suming I'm safe again. Not even among my own kind.

Winn is headed down the path as we leave the house, and an unexpected wave of relief crashes over me when I once again see no magic in him. I hold on to that fact like my life depends on it. When we meet, he scoops me off the ground; I'm too exhausted to resist. He whispers into my ear, "Where have you been? I missed you."

How can he still make me want to smile? "It's been kind of hectic around here, getting my dad settled and all."

"I guess I can accept that." He puts me on the ground, and his beautiful mouth turns down. "So, how are you doing with all this?"

I know he means Gwen, but it feels like it applies to everything. Searching his eyes, all I can see is concern. No blackness or cunning like Levi. It can't be fake-he can't be trying to trick me. Or have I already been tricked? I lean on his chest, the comfort of his arms too strong to ignore. If it is a lie, I fell for it a long time ago. "I'm so tired."

"You can sleep on the way there," Kat says. "We should get going."

"Right." Winn guides me to the car, and we head for Denison. As I doze off on his shoulder, I decide I'll deal with his part in this whenever it comes. For now, I need him too much to let go. He's the one thing in my life that hasn't gone totally wrong yet.

Gwen's family looks ragged, half of them pa.s.sed out in the hospital's waiting room. My heart aches for them even more when I realize they don't have a home to stay in. Mrs. Lee, who Gwen takes after almost completely, hugs us. "Thank goodness you came. We're hoping that having friends here might . . ."

She chokes on a cry, and I put my hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry I didn't hear sooner. I feel horrible."

"No. It's only been two days. . . ." She puts a hand to her chest. "My, it feels like so much longer than that."

"I know exactly what you mean."

It's silent for a moment, as if we're all too tired to make polite conversation.

"Do you need anything?" Winn shuffles back and forth, seeming antsy. "You guys must be hungry, and hospital food is awful. I could run out and get you supplies. Maybe some blankets and pillows?"

"Oh . . ." She shakes her head. "That is so sweet, but I don't have any cash and-"

"It's on me." Winn looks my way, his eyes full of understanding. "I'm sure Jo and Kat want to see her on their own, and I like to be useful. What do you want?"

Mrs. Lee seems hesitant to accept his offer, but she relents. "Anything would be great."

"Say no more. I'll make sure you're fed." He kisses me quick on the cheek. "I'll be back in a few."

I grab his arm, realizing how far we are from the safety of Nana's spells. If anyone in the group is next on the list, it's Winn, my last shred of happiness. I take my strongest protective charm and drape it over his neck. "Be quick. And careful."

He smiles, and with one more kiss he's gone.

"So how is she?" Kat asks.

Mrs. Lee's eyes water. "She has some serious burns on her arms, and her hair . . . they had to cut so much of it off. The paramedics thought her pa.s.sing out was smoke inhalation at first, that maybe the fire started in her room so she was the most exposed. But she won't wake up. They've run a bunch of tests, and nothing."

"Can we see her now? Or is it too late for visitors?" I ask.

"We'll tell them you're family," Mrs. Lee says. "I'm sure they'll let you in."

They do, though the nurse explains that we can't take too long. The moment I see Gwen, it's exactly what I feared. Her aura is black-she's under some kind of spell, but I don't recognize it. If Levi did this, I don't care what he knows anymore. He will pay.

I walk over, and the spell reacts to my presence with a hiss. It doesn't come for me this time; it only works harder on its goal, which must be to murder Gwen. This spell isn't for killing me-its sole purpose is to cause me pain, to break me, to terrify me.

To my own surprise, it only makes me want to fight back.

"Is it bad?" Kat asks.

"Really bad. This spell was supposed to kill her-it's still trying to. It's a good thing she didn't take off the charms. The one place there isn't darkness is around them, but it won't last long."

"What do you mean?"

"It means if I can't get this thing reversed, she'll be dead before daybreak."

Kat gasps. "No."

I pull the bag out of my purse. "Hurry, I need your help mixing this."

"But I don't-"

"I need to concentrate on the potion; all you have to do is hand me what I ask for when I ask for it." I search for a makeshift cauldron. It's between a pink barf bin or the bedpan. I hold them up to Kat. "Which is the lesser of two evils?"

She cringes. "Unless it'll erode the plastic, I say the pink one."

"Hmm, I didn't think of that. Bedpan it is, just in case." I set it on the counter and get to work. "The rose oil first."

She rummages in the bag. "The clear water-looking one?"

"Yeah." She hands it to me, and I pour it into the bedpan. Holding my hand over it, I infuse the floral liquid with a heavy helping of magic, straight from my heart. "The dove eyes next."

It's quiet as I go about creating the purification potion-only the occasional beeps from the machines Gwen's attached to. Lizard tails for regeneration. A lion tooth for battle. Sunflower petals to purge the darkness. Before I know it, I'm almost finished, and the potion is a good one, full of power and love.

"And last but not least." I hold my hand over it. "The blood of a loved one."

"So that's what the knife's for." Kat pulls it out, eyeing it. "Can I do it? Or does it have to be from a witch?"

I smile, knowing how much she wants to contribute. "You can, if you'd like."

She cuts her finger without so much as a flinch, and the blood drips into the potion, making a stark crimson flower against the pearly white liquid. It spreads and spreads until I can feel the potion's full power rise.

"That's good," I whisper, concentrating on sealing it all together. The magic tingles through my fingers, and I'm tempted to give it a little more than it needs. But I don't. When I open my eyes, the potion is a bright red-and-white flower. I pluck it from the silver bedpan and bring it over to Gwen. Placing it on her heart, I wait for the spell to banish the darkness.

But instead, the shadows consume the flower until it's nothing but blackened ash.

THIRTY-TWO.

I look to Kat, whose horrified expression must mirror mine. This has never happened before. My spells always work, and so do Nana's. How could it not cure Gwen? I collapse by the bedside, clutching my mother's pendant.

"What do we do now?" Kat says, her voice shaky. "We can't let her die. We can't. Gwen can't die."

"I don't know." I take Gwen's hand, even though the shadows burn and hiss.

"Can't we sacrifice something else? You gave up your voice to purify your dad's letter, and you burned your hand for me. There has to be something!" She paces the room, panicking enough for the two of us. "What about a kidney or a lung or an arm?"

"It's too much risk with no a.s.surance that it'd work. I can't take an arm without knowing with one hundred percent certainty that it would stop the spell."