Page 61 of Ringmaster

“I know,” Miriam replies. “We’ve already been gone too long.”

“Tell Tavien goodbye for me,” I start, wiping a tear away, “and thank him for saving me.”

“I will,” Miriam sniffles.

“I love you, Miriam.”

“I love you too, Mercy. Be careful. Stay safe.” Miriam sobs.

With one final hug, she presses the basket into my hands. I turn and walk away without looking back, because if I do, I might not have the strength to leave at all.

Chapter 34

Azrael

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough. Mercy will finally be safely tucked away under my protection. Before she arrives, I have one final task, and for that, I’ll need Zora’s help. I spent the better part of the day restoring my sleep, with evening falling fast. Now I trek down the worn path to her enchanted boxcar, ready to summon the Prince of Nightmares.

When I raise my hand to knock, the door swings open. Zora greets me with a smile.

“Azrael. Come in. I’ve been expecting you.” She waves me inside and closes the door behind us.

“Zora,” I greet her warmly. “Does this mean you know why I’m here?”

“I only knew to expect you. Tell me how I can help?”

“I need to summon the Prince of Nightmares.”

A hush falls between us for several moments as Zora considers. When she opens her eyes, she nods solemnly. “He’ll have a request of his own. Be careful what you agree to, Azrael.”

“I understand.”

“Then come. Let’s summon him. Help me gather the supplies.” She pulls me toward shelves stacked with objects that defy explanation—things that whisper of dreams and nightmares alike.

Zora hands me a mortar and pestle, then begins dumping dried herbs into it. “Grind it into a sandy texture,” she instructs.

I do as she asks, and once the mixture is ready, she sets the candles in a circle, lighting them in a particular order only she knows. The flames flicker low in the dim room. Zora hands me the bowl of powdered sand.

“Take a handful,” she says. “Draw a circle in a clockwise motion. As you shape it, think of him. Call him. Summon him. And your final words must command his presence. Do not leave him the opening to refuse you.” Her eyes are wide, full of worry.

“What will happen?” I ask. “Why do you look so afraid?”

“Because he’s dangerous,” she replies. “He’s powerful, and unlike us, he’s not bound by the laws of Hell. You must be careful.”

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “Are you ready?”

“Not quite.”

Zora picks up a piece of chalk and draws a circle around us and our workspace. “Whatever you do, don’t step outside the circle of protection.” She dips a rope in blood. “Tie this around your wrist, and I’ll secure the other end around mine.”

I look at her, puzzled.

“If he pulls us to a dreamscape, into his realm, this will ensure we remain together. As long as you stay inside the circle, he won’t be able to control the meeting or force us into a nightmare,” she explains gravely.

The weight of what I’m about to do for—something that seems so simple, so harmless—finally settles over me. Even now, standing in the circle with the bloodstained rope binding us, I wonder if I’ve gone too far. Some doors, once opened, never close again.

I could always wait for Mercy to arrive. But I want to surprise her. I need her to know how much this means to me. That I’ll always take care of her first, above all else.

“Are you ready?” I ask, jaw set, determined to follow through with this insanity.