The Golden Lily (Bloodlines, #2)(93)

Ms. Terwilliger left, telling me to get her when I was on the spell's last stage. Adrian delayed a moment to speak with me. "You sure you're okay with all of this? I mean, from what I know about you and the Alchemists... well, it seems like you'd actually be pretty not-okay with this."

"I'm not," I agreed. "Like I said, this goes against everything I believe - against everything they've taught me. Which is why you can't tell anyone. You heard her passive aggressive remark about me not practicing? She's been on me for a while now to develop my so-called magical skills, and I keep refusing - because it's wrong. So, she has me research spell books for my independent study with her, in the hopes of me learning by osmosis."

"That's messed up," he said, shaking his head. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

I gave him a small smile. "Well, I want to find Sonya. So I do have to do this." He gave me no smile in return. "Okay. But I'm just going to be out there - having a tea party with her cats or whatever it is she has in mind. You need me? You yell. You want to leave? We go. I'll get you out of here, no matter what." Something clenched in my chest, and for a moment, the whole world narrowed down to the green of his eyes. "Thank you."

Adrian left, and I was alone. Well, almost. One of the cats had stuck around, a sleek black one with yellow eyes. It was lying on a high shelf, watching me curiously, like it wondered if I could really pull this off. That made two of us.

For a moment, I couldn't move. I was about to willingly work magic. All the protests and arguments I'd given Ms. Terwilliger were like ash in the wind now. I started trembling and felt short of breath. Then, I thought about Sonya. Kind, brave Sonya. She'd devoted so much energy and time to doing the right thing. How could I do any less?

As I'd noted to Ms. Terwilliger, the spell was deceptively simple. It didn't require half as many steps as the fire amulet. I had to keep water simmering in a copper cauldron and add different ingredients to it, most of which were clear oils that had to be measured with exacting care. The air soon grew heavy with the scent of bergamot, vanilla, and heliotrope. Some of the steps had the same ritual redundancy I'd done before. For example, I had to pluck thirteen fresh mint leaves off one of her plants, dropping each leaf in one at a time while counting them off in Greek. Then, when they had simmered for thirteen minutes, I had to remove each one with a rosewood spoon.

Before leaving, Ms. Terwilliger had told me to stay focused and think about both the steps of the spell and what I was ultimately hoping to accomplish. So, I turned my thoughts toward Sonya and finding her, praying that she was okay. When I finally finished these initial steps, I saw that almost an hour had gone by. I'd barely noticed it passing. I wiped a hand over my forehead, surprised at how much the steamy room had made me sweat. I went out to find Ms.

Terwilliger and Adrian, uncertain what weird activity I'd find going on. Instead, things were pretty ordinary: they were watching TV. Both glanced up at my approach.

"Ready?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Smells like tea in here," said Adrian, as they followed me to the workroom.

Ms. Terwilliger examined the small cauldron and nodded her head in approval. "It looks excellent." I didn't know how she could tell at a glance but figured I'd take her word for it.

"Now. The actual scrying involves a silver plate, correct?" She scanned her shelves of dishes and pointed at something. "There. Use that."

I pulled down a perfectly round plate about twelve inches across. It was smooth, with no ornamentation, and had been polished to such brilliance that it reflected almost as well as a mirror. I probably could've done without that part, though, seeing as my hair and makeup were showing the wear and tear of the day. Around anyone else, I would have felt selfconscious.

I set the plate on the worktable and poured one cup of water from the cauldron onto the silvery surface. All non-liquid ingredients had been removed, and the water was perfectly clear. Once it stopped rippling, the mirror effect returned. Ms. Terwilliger handed me a tiny bowl of galbanum incense, which the book said should be burning during this last stage. I lit the resin with a candle, and a bitter, green smell wafted up, contrasting with the sweetness of the liquid.

"You still have the hair?" Ms. Terwilliger asked.

"Of course." I laid it across the water's smooth surface. Part of me wanted something to happen - sparks or smoke - but I'd read the directions and knew better. I pulled a stool up to the table and sat on it, allowing me to gaze down into the water. "Now I look?"

"Now you look," she confirmed. "Your mind needs to be both focused and spread out. You need to think about the components of the spell and the magic they hold, as well as your desire to find the spell's subject. At the same time, you need to maintain a perfect clarity of mind and stay fixed on your task with razor sharp focus."

I looked down at my reflection and tried to do all those things she'd just described. Nothing happened. "I don't see anything."

"Of course not," she said. "It's only been a minute. I told you this was an advanced spell. It may take a while for you to fully muster the strength and power you need. Stay on task. We'll be waiting."

The two of them left. I stared bleakly at the water, wondering how long "a while" was. I'd been excited when the spell seemed so simple originally. Now, I wished there were more ingredients to mix, more incantations to recite. This high-level magic, relying on will and mental energy, was much more difficult - mainly because it was intangible. I liked the concrete. I liked to know exactly what was needed to make something happen. Cause and effect.