“It feels right to me, Stevie Rae. Real right, like down deep in my bones.”

“Me, too,” Stevie Rae said, grinning at Kramisha.

“Okay, but Z needs to know all this. The poem is like a map to the end. The first step, findin’ him on water, already happened. Next she has to—”

“Purify him through fire,” Stevie Rae broke in, remembering the line. “And then doesn’t it say something ’bout earth and air?”

“Yeah, and spirit. It’s all five of the elements.”

“All of Z’s affinities, ending in spirit, which is her most powerful affinity.”

“And the one in charge of the realm she’s in right now,” Kramisha said. “Okay, I ain’t gonna say this just ’cause I wrote me a kick-ass poem, so you gotta seriously listen up: Zoey has to know this stuff. It’s gonna make the difference between her comin’ back and her being killed dead by whatever’s goin’ on over there.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

“Then how you gonna do it?”

“Me? I’m not. I can’t. I’m into earth. No way can my spirit take off and get to the Otherworld.” Stevie Rae shivered. Just the thought gave her the heebie-jeebies. “But Stark’s gonna get his butt there. He has to—that disgusting cow said so.”

“Bull,” Kramisha said.

“Whatever.”

“You want me to call Stark and read the poem to him? You got his number?”

Stevie Rae thought about it. “No. Aphrodite says Stark’s head is seriously messed up right now. He might ignore your poem, thinkin’ he has other, more important stuff to deal with.”

“Well, he’d be wrong.”

“Yeah, I agree. So, what we need to do is get the poem to Aphrodite. She’s hateful and all, but she’ll understand how important it is.”

“And ’cause she’s so hateful, there’s no way she’ll let Stark ignore her or the poem.”

“Exactly. Text it to her right now and tell her I said to make Stark memorize it for Zoey. And to remember it’s a prophecy, not just a poem.”

“You know, I seriously question her amount of good sense ’cause she don’t like poetry.”

“Girl, you are preaching to the dang full-gospel Pentecostal choir,” said Stevie Rae.

“Um-hum, that’s all I have to say.” And while Stevie Rae pulled into the newly plowed parking lot of the Benedictine Abbey, Kramisha bent her head over her phone and got busy texting.

Right away, Stevie Rae could tell that Grandma Redbird was getting better. The terrible bruises on her face had faded, and instead of being in bed, she was sitting in a rocking chair by the fireplace in the abbey’s main lounge, so into the book she was reading that she didn’t even notice Stevie Rae at first.

“Blue-Eyed Devil?” Even though she was there to tell Z’s grandma awful news, Stevie Rae couldn’t help smiling as she read the title. “Grandma, that sounds like a romance book to me.”

Grandma Redbird’s hand went to her throat. “Stevie Rae! Child, you startled me. And it is a romance—an excellent one at that. Hardy Cates is a magnificent hero.”

“Magnificent?”

Grandma lifted her sliver brows at Stevie Rae. “I’m old, child. Not dead. I can still appreciate a magnificent man.” She motioned to one of the padded wooden chairs not far away. “Pull that up, honey, and let’s have a chat. I’m assuming you have news of Zoey all the way from Venice. Just think of it—Venice, Italy! I would love to visit . . .” The old woman’s voice trailed off as she looked more closely at Stevie Rae. “I knew it. I knew something was wrong, but my mind has been so muddled since the accident.” Sylvia Redbird went very, very still. Then, in a voice that that was rough with fear, she said, “Tell me quickly.”

With a sad sigh, Stevie Rae sat in the chair she’d pulled beside the rocker and took Grandma’s hand. “She’s not dead, but it’s not good.”

“All of it. I want all of it. Don’t stop, and don’t leave anything out.”

Grandma Redbird held on to Stevie Rae’s hand as if it were a life-line as Zoey’s best friend told her everything—from Heath’s death to the bulls to the present and Kramisha’s prophetic poem, leaving out only one thing: Rephaim. When she was finished, Grandma’s face had gone as pale as it had been right after her accident, when she’d been in a coma and near death.

“Shattered. My granddaughter’s soul is shattered,” she said slowly, as if the words carried thick layers of grief all their own.

“Stark’s gonna get to her, Grandma.” Stevie Rae met the old woman’s gaze steadily. “And then he’s gonna protect her so that she can pull herself together.”

“Cedar,” Grandma said, nodding like she’d just answered a question, and Stevie Rae should be agreeing with her.

“Cedar?” Stevie Rae asked, hoping the news about Zoey hadn’t made Grandma lose her mind. Literally.

“Cedar needles. Tell Stark to make whoever watches over his body while he’s in the trance state to burn them the entire time.”

“You just lost me, Grandma.”

“Cedar needles are powerful medicine. They repel asgina, which are considered the most malevolent of spirits. Cedar is only used during times of dire need.”

“Well, this is some seriously dire need,” Stevie Rae said, relieved that the color was starting to come back into Grandma’s cheeks.

“Tell Stark to breathe the smoke deeply, and to think about carrying it with him to the Otherworld—to believe it will follow his spirit there. The mind can be a powerful ally of the spirit. Sometimes our minds can even alter the very fabric of our souls. If Stark believes the cedar smoke can accompany his spirit, it might just do so and add an extra layer of protection to him on his quest.”

“I’ll tell him.”

Grandma squeezed her hand even tighter. “Sometimes things that seem small or insignificant can aid us, even in our most difficult hour. Don’t discount anything, and don’t let Stark, either.”

“I won’t, Grandma. None of us will. I’ll be sure of it.”

“Sylvia, I just spoke with Kramisha outside,” Sister Mary Angela hurried into the room. She came to a halt when she saw Stevie Rae holding the old woman’s hand. “Oh, Mother Mary! It is true then.” The nun bowed her head, obviously fighting tears, but when she lifted her chin, her eyes were dry, and her face was set in strong, resolute lines. “Well, then, we shall go on from here.” Abruptly, she turned and began to leave the room.

“Sister, where are you going?” Grandma Redbird asked.

“To call the abbey to the chapel. We will pray. We all will pray.”

“To Mary?” Stevie Rae asked, unable to keep the skepticism out of her voice.

The nun nodded, and in her firm, wise voice said, “Yes, Stevie Rae, to Mary—to the Lady we consider to be mother in spirit of us all. Perhaps she isn’t the same deity as your Nyx; perhaps she is. But is that question really important right now? Tell me, High Priestess of the Red Fledglings, do you truly believe asking for help in the name of love to be a mistake, no matter what face that help is wearing?”

Stevie Rae had a flash of Rephaim’s face with his human eyes as he stood up to Darkness and took on the debt she owed it, and her mouth suddenly went dry.

“I’m sorry, Sister. I was wrong. Ask for your Mary’s help ’cause sometimes love does come from places that we don’t expect.”

Sister Mary Angela looked into Stevie Rae’s eyes for what seemed like a very long time before saying, “You may join us in prayer, child.”

Stevie Rae smiled at her. “Thanks, but I have my own kind of pray-in’ to do.”

“Hell no I ain’t gonna lie for you!” Kramisha said.

“I’m not askin’ you to lie,” Stevie Rae said.

“Yah you is. You want me to say you’re all involved in checking out the tunnel with Sister Mary Angela. Everbody already knows you totally sealed it up last time you was here.”

“Not everyone knows that,” Stevie Rae said.

“Yeah, they do. Plus, the nuns is all prayin’ for Zoey, and it don’t seem right at all to use a prayin’ nun in your lie.”