Page 59 of Premonition of Peace

His breaths were shallow and raspy. Running a shaky hand through my hair, anxiety tightened its grip around my heart as I turned to face Señora. My heart dropped as she looked up at me with a pitying gaze and she shook her head slightly.

“No, not yet,” I whispered, cutting her off before she could say anything, shaking my head in defiance. “Keep him alive. Do whatever you have to do.”

Señora’s expression softened just a touch, and her voice carried the weight of the truth we all knew. “Nathalie, there is nothing more I can do. His time draws near.”

“I know there is something you can do to fix him, Señora. I don’t care what it costs.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You will.”

The harrowing way she spoke sent a shiver up my spine. “Tell me.”

“He will not be himself when I am done. The man you love will not be saved.”

Whatever level of dark and seedy magic she was referring to remained unnamed, but the insinuation was enough for me to understand. I nodded, and she pressed her lips together, allowing me to accept the gravity of the situation in silence.

The whispers of my loci pulled me in, where I found every version of myself scrambling. Peace was crying with hyperventilating hiccups, and even then, she was pushing herself through every plant book we had, furiously wiping the tears away with her arm. Caretaker was by her side, sifting through books of spells we had watched or had read about over my lifetime.

Bad Nat threw another book across the room, kicking the table as she did. “This is pointless. He’s on death’s doorstep and we have no way to slow it down, much less stop it.”

“Keep looking,” Ann muttered, pushing her glasses up her nose while she scanned a shelf in the library.

“For what?” The Warden asked, tossing her hands up. “I hate to agree with her, but Bad Nat is right. It’s not as if we haven’t been looking. The sudden pressure to find something isn’t going to make it miraculously appear.”

Peace sniffled. “There isn’t a plant or flower on this realm that can save him.” She pushed her book away, grabbing another one. “I wish we could just turn himintoa flower,” she whispered.

Bad Nat scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You and your stupid movies. Even the other two fairies thought that was dumb.”

The Warden looked up. “Which movie was that?”

“Sleeping Beauty. Animated one,” Ann muttered, blowing a lock of hair away from her face while she read.

“Wait,” Caretaker said, looking at me. “Can we do that? Can we turn him into something?”

I scrubbed my hands down my face and shook my head. “The death magic that’s eating him now will just eat the new form he’d take. It’s not killing his soul. It’s the vessel, the part that’s living . . .”

As I trailed off, thinking of how crass I sounded, Bat Nat’s assessment sounded significantly worse. “Well, he’s mortal, just like us, and there’s nothing we can do to change that. He’s going to die someday. Might as well let it happen now.”

Caretaker threw a pencil at her. “Could you, I don’t know,notbe yourself right now?”

Bad Nat took a step forward, fists balled up. The Warden stepped between them before they took it any further, and she began shouting over them to calm them down. “Stop it! What’s gotten into you?”

“She started it,” Caretaker said, jabbing a finger in Bad Nat’s direction.

“I didn’t start shit. You’re just too caught up in emotions to see the fucking truth. This is reality, you twat. Welcome.” The same pencil that had been thrown at her went flying back toward Caretaker.

The Warden swatted it out of the air, midflight. “What the hell, you two? You’re acting like children!”

Ann snorted, turning away disapprovingly before tossing another book aside. “Hardly. Honor and Orson are children. Don’t insult them by putting them in the same category.”

This was a disaster. Not only was I losing Marcel, but the pieces that lived within me were falling apart. Which meant, in fact,Iwas falling apart. I sighed.

“Wait!” Peace shushed everyone, waving her hands wildly and standing up. The loci paused the bickering long enough to look at the frantic version of myself, her eyes swollen and her nose rubbed raw. “The children!”

“Come again?” Ann turned, giving Peace her attention, but she only looked directly at me.

“You wanted to change him into an immortal–”

“We can’t,” Ann said, dismissing her. “He’s too weak.”

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