Page 59 of Fool Me Twice

Now, the summer sun is finally slipping towards the horizon, and the Courtyard’s nightlife is just starting to appear. The shops around its border are turning on their catchiest music and most colorful lights, bright and cheerful to welcome the impending darkness. The savory scent of cachapas wafts over from the nearest food truck, and a woman two tables over isbusily connecting her guitar to a small amplifier, her guitar case already set out to collect tips.

The temperature is cool, but for some reason, Ez’s presence makes Roma feel warm. Not overheated, but just… comfortable. Cozy.

Almost safe.

“I’m fine,” Roma hears herself say, not trusting herself to look too deeply into Ez’s steady, fathomless eyes. “I don’t even think they’re right. They probably just invented an excuse to justify their defection.”

Ez hums noncommittally. “But if theyareright?”

“I‍—‍” Roma scrubs a hand down her face, exhausted. “I don’t even want to think about that. Not yet, anyway.”

“Okay,” Ez says softly, and she pushes herself to her feet. “But we’re still good for Obie’s spell? And our rift-closing shifts?”

Right now, all Roma wants to do is crawl into a corner and hide. She forces herself to nod. “Yep. Business as usual.”

“Cool,” Ez says, and she clears her throat, clapping a hand on Roma’s shoulder. Roma almost starts with surprise. “And, uh. Thanks. For trusting me.”

Roma’s heart does something fluttery. “You didn’t really give me much of a choice.”

“Still.” Ez gives her the ghost of a smile as she drops her hand and steps away. Roma’s shoulder feels cold where Ez’s palm was warm through the fabric of her shirt, and fleetingly, Roma wonders what Ez’s bare fingers would feel like tangled through Roma’s.

It’s probably the most heretical‍—and impossible‍—thing she’s thought all night. And it shouldn’t leave her feeling nearly as sad as it does. “You should, um,” Roma says awkwardly, and she clears her throat. “You should probably head to Cass’s place. To meet up with Obie.”

“Probably,” Ez agrees, and she flicks open a rift. “Later, Gutierrez.”

And, with one final wave, she ducks through the rift, snaps it closed behind her, and vanishes from sight.

Roma stays in the Courtyard for a while. Watches the civilians walk by, listens to the woman on the guitar. Buys a cachapa and eats it without really tasting anything. When the clock strikes eight, she stumbles to her feet, walks back to the Sanctum, and slips up the staircase to her bedroom without seeing a soul.

And then she curls up on her bed, pulls the blankets over her head, and tries to remember how to breathe.

26

Gingerly, Obie places the ancient spell book on Cass’s kitchen table and flips to a yellowing page about halfway through. “Here,” he says, tapping a finger on the handwritten script. “This is the spell to check if the Deep is stable.”

Ez leans over the book, fascinated. Its letters are tall and flowery, closer to calligraphy than any handwriting she’s familiar with, but it’s just legible enough for her to read. “How does it work?”

“Verycarefully,” Obie says. “Basically, it analyzes the Deep without touching it‍—that’s the only way to keep it from potentially destabilizing even more. If the spell comes back positive, then we’ll have a starting point to fix the epidemic; if not…”

Cass finishes the thought. “Then we’ll be back to square one,” he says, wrinkling his nose down at the spindly words. “Or square zero, even.”

Desi clambers onto a chair, standing on the seat to join the adults’ conversation. “Are there pictures?” she asks seriously, reaching out a sticky hand to poke the spell book. “Maybe the pictures will help!”

Patiently, Obie pulls it out of her reach. “No pictures, sweetie. And we have to be really careful not to get this book dirty, okay? It’s older than JJ, Cass,andAuntie Ez combined. Can you go wash your hands for me?”

“Okay!” Desi says, and she jumps off the chair to dash towards the bathroom sink.

Grinning, JJ peers down at the spell. “It looks like it uses a neutral base, so it isn’t specific to human or demon magic,” he says, his eyes skimming over the page, “but it’s possible to do with two spellcasters‍—and it might entail less risk. Do you want my help? Or‍—or Cass’s, or Obie’s?”

Ez shakes her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather keep you three on standby in case we need extra hands to close mega-rifts. And Micah and Gregorio weren’t joking about this being a varsity-level spell‍—I wouldn’t want you to get hurt if something went wrong.”

JJ arches an eyebrow. “If I screwed it up, you mean?”

“Ifeitherof us screwed it up,” Ez emphasizes. “But, in this case, yes. The overwhelming balance of probability would be on you screwing it up. I wasn’t going to come out andsaythat, though.”

JJ’s lips twitch. Cass throws Ez a grateful look over JJ’s shoulder, and Ez fights back a smile of her own, focusing back on the spell book. It’s good to see JJ in better spirits, or at least able to banter with them again, because‍?—

Well. For the first few days after that disastrous meeting with his old mentors, he just looked numb and haunted, only showing a glimmer of life whenever Cass or Desi could coax it out of him. Now, Ez is pretty sure he’s just trying not to think about the conspiracy that may or may not be unfolding in Redwater altogether.

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