SHE AWAKENED WITH A start, her heart hammering, her pulse racing, and threw off the blanket someone had lain over her—probably Jeremiah. A voice had intruded into her dreams, a female voice, that voice, Sister Samain. Did it work? she asked, her voice seeming at once familiar and at the same time foreign—alien. Did the trust spell work as intended?
Yes, Satyena projected, and glanced down the hall toward Jasper and Jeremiah’s rooms. But this is not a good time. The house is too quiet, and the Witch Doctor has The Way. The old man, too, will have it by morning, for I have promised to push him.
Why would you do that, Satyena? Samain objected. The Witch Doctor was inevitable, but another—the old man, especially—what if something goes wrong?
Spells are not perfect, Sister Samain. You above
