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It was intricate. Looking at the diagram was enough to make Viola’s eyes hurt. It felt impossible to follow the lines of the various shapes as they wove into one another, interlocking and then doubling back. They seemed to have no beginning, no end. They seemed almost alive on the page.

“What’s a sigil, anyway?” Cela asked, sipping her coffee and peering over to look at the page. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Traditionally, a sigil is nothing more than a symbol, usually something like a small diagram,” Theo explained. “It comes from the Latin ‘sigillum,’ or ‘seal.’?”

“It doesn’t look like the seal you all used to help Jianyu, though,” Cela said.

“No,” Theo agreed. “Sigils are more like written emblems than objects. I’ve seen some before in old illuminated manuscripts—especially medieval ones—but nothing like this.” He squinted as though he was also having trouble focusing on the pattern. “Often, they’re meant to represent the true name of an angel or a demon.”

Viola was frowning now. “Why would anyone want such a thing?”

“Because names have power,” Cela said softly. Her eyes were focused on the page, thoughtful now. “Naming is a way of claiming, isn’t it? Claiming yourself, claiming what you are. Names are powerful things, even without any magic attached.”

“Exactly,” Theo said. “If you knew the name of a demon or an angel—the true name of it—you could control it. Or so groups like the Order would believe.”

“Che pazzo,” Viola said, crossing herself. Only a madman would want such a thing.

“The Order really believes they can control a demon?” Cela sounded uneasy about this idea, and for once Viola agreed with her completely.

“Maybe not an actual demon.” Theo’s mouth curved a bit, though Viola couldn’t begin to see what was amusing about any of this. “Over the centuries, people have used the word ‘demon’ to describe pretty much anything they couldn’t explain or control… including those with magic.”

Unease made Viola pause. “Someone could use this… this sigil,” she said, the word tasting heavy on her tongue, “and they could control a person’s magic?”

“Possibly,” Theo said, frowning. “Though I only know the theory behind these as pieces of art. I’m less familiar with their actual use.”

Hadn’t the notes Nibsy gave her weeks ago indicated something similar? Dolph had taken part of Leena’s magic and placed it into the head of his cane to use it. To control it. He’d taken a part of her to control for his own. It seemed to Viola the worst sort of betrayal, and she would not have believed it of her friend if she’d not seen the evidence written out in his own hand.

Dolph’s cane and Viola’s blade were only two examples of ordinary objects infused with power. She’d heard tales of many more, but Viola had never understood where those objects came from. Was this strange diagram what was needed to take the magic from a person? And if so, how did it work?

“What does that say?” Viola asked, pointing to the strange markings on the page near the sigil.

“I’m not sure,” Theo admitted. “I’ve never seen this particular language before. It could be some kind of cuneiform, or some kind of code? I’m not exactly a student of languages.”

“Dolph was,” Viola said, more to herself than to any of them. She couldn’t help but wonder why her old friend had chosen to inscribe this page with such strange figures when he could have used any one of his other tongues. Unless he didn’t want anyone else to be able to read what he wrote.

Perhaps Dolph had known about the coming betrayal, but the question remained: What, exactly, had Dolph Saunders been trying to hide about this image? And why had he felt the need to hide it so thoroughly?

They would never know, Viola realized. Dolph was gone, and with him the answers to this puzzle.

“There are more notes on the back,” Theo said. “It seems as though someone—possibly your friend—had the same idea. There are some notes here about the plan for an experiment, but… the next page seems to be missing.” He flipped the page over to show Viola the place where one or more pages had been torn from the binding of the notebook.

“Sounds like nothing but a bunch of trouble, if you ask me,” Cela said. “Whoever wants to go stirring up demons is nothing but a fool. Some things aren’t meant to be messed with.” She took her mug of coffee to the sink, done with the conversation.

Viola, though, could not take her eyes from the place where pages were missing from the book, or from the writing on the back of the page that held the strange illustration. Familiar writing, and this was in English. She took a piece of paper that she’d tucked for safety in Libitina’s sheath and slowly, carefully unfolded it. On the surface was Dolph’s hand, clear as day, describing what he’d done to Leena, or at least describing the aftermath of his efforts.

It was the same size—the same type of paper—and when she held it up to examine it, Theo’s brows drew together.

“Nibsy gave this to me,” she told him, answering his unspoken question. “Before the gala. He wanted to show me proof that Dolph wasn’t who I believed him to be. He wanted to turn me against him.”

A movement in the doorway drew Viola’s attention.

Jianyu was standing there, a frown on his narrow face. “That is what Nibsy Lorcan wanted from everyone.”

A DEVIL’S BARGAIN

1902—New York

Cela turned at the sound of Jianyu’s voice to find him standing in the doorway, looking nearly like himself, if only a little thinner. She stepped toward him immediately, almost reflexively, but then she stopped herself. Suddenly she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to go to him. She’d been taking care of him for days now, but Jianyu hadn’t exactly had a choice about it. He hadn’t been in any position to accept or reject her help.