Page 96 of Spirit Storm

The only thing missing is the powerful turquoise light. The grooves are dark where they should be glowing with the intention of The Nine, the warding spell dormant for the first time in centuries.

"He's been at it since he arrived yesterday," Khylie says quietly beside me. "Stone witches might not work quickly, but they work long and hard."

"It's incredible. What a gift."

Xavier doesn't acknowledge us, and I don't intend to interrupt him. I watch him work and feel something in my chest unknot, just slightly. The damage I caused, or that Tharuzel caused through me, is being repaired by someone who knows this stone better than anyone alive.

I'm not going to pretend that makes my guilt dissolve entirely. Birdie told me not to marinate in it. Asher pulled a face so thoroughly offended when I tried to take the blame that it almost made me laugh. But knowing you shouldn't blame yourself and actually not doing it are two very different things.

I can't change what happened, but I can try to ensure it doesn't happen again.

My phone buzzes, and Garrison's name sits at the top of the screen.

Badass Boss: I'm upstairs at the Order headquarters. Come when you're ready.

I glance at Asher, who is already reading over my shoulder. He holds out his hand. Wylder takes my other hand, and the cave dissolves…

The Nassau Order headquarters courtyard is no less stunning for having seen it before. Pale stone paths wind between enormous bird-of-paradise plants and something with wide, glossy leaves that catches the morning light. The sky above is bursting with the promise of a new day, and I hope that is more than potential.

I hope it's a foretelling of things turning around.

Garrison stands at the center of the enclosed courtyard, and beside him is a man I don't recognize. He is tall and black, with long dreadlocks pulled back loosely, and an expression of composed patience. He looks to be in his mid-forties and carries himself with the stillness of someone who takes up space quietly.

"Poppy," Garrison gestures a hand between us as we approach. "This is Darius. He is a walker."

Asher leans toward me. "A what?"

"A walker," I repeat, but have no idea what that is, either.

"His gift is consciousness projection." Wylder's broody side is in full force as he takes in the man. "They can move their awareness through other people, read thoughts and memories."

Asher frowns. "That's extremely disturbing. Also, why is he here?"

"I asked Garrison to find someone to help me," I tell them. "Tharuzel pulled the lockstone locations out of me. If we have any hope of stopping him, we need to access what he found. And since I have no idea where that information is stored within me, and can't get there myself…"

Darius extends his hand, and his voice is low and even. "I am honored to help."

I reach to greet him, but Asher intercepts my wrist and keeps me from shaking his hand. "Not so fast."

I roll my eyes. "You'll have to excuse Asher. He's very protective."

"Because I'm her Guardian Angel," Asher informs him. "I was put at her side by the Goddess Mother herself. Poppy is special. You get me?"

If Darius is offended or put out in any way by Asher's behavior, he doesn't show it. "I get you, and I swear I have no intention of doing her harm. I'm only here to help."

Asher's gaze narrows, but I step past him. "Thank you for coming. Shall we?"

Darius and I sit opposite each other, straddling a low stone bench. Our knees touch, and he takes both my hands in his, palms up, and I feel the warmth of his grip, steady and unhurried. "I promise it won't hurt. It'll feel a little like I'm a gossamer curtain blowing gently across the breeze of your consciousness."

Okay, that sounds nice enough.

He closes his eyes, but I keep mine open.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then there is a shift, and a ghostly version of Darius, barely visible but magically felt, lifts from his body and moves the short distance between us.

His essence settles into me like a ghost inhabiting another body. The sensation is extraordinary and deeply strange, but he's right, it doesn't hurt. He's like a warm current moving through the still water of my consciousness.

There's a moment of fear when flashbacks of Tharuzel seizing my will make me want to end this. I tense but fight the impulse.