Page 94 of The Magic We Made

I don’t feel so great.

I don’t know if it’s the blow to my balls or the devil’s weed or the fact that Haley keeps grinding her knuckles into me. Maybe all three.

But it doesn’t matter how I’m feeling. I have to get up. I know I have to get up and then get Emma out of here. I promised her parents I would.

Except every time I open my eyes and try to sit up, the world starts spinning. This is probably an aftereffect of the devil’s weed, but truthfully... I haven’t felt that great since I told Frankie the truth about Guy.

The look on her face! She seemed as horrified as if I’d just told her I like to kill puppies in my spare time, or something.

I guess I can understand it might be upsetting for a therapist to hear that the guy she’s sleeping with believes his grandmother is a literal goddess. But you’d think she’d want to know, especially since she asks so many questions all the time.

So I’ve lost her. That’s how it goes, I guess. Being the grandson of an all-powerful goddess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be... especially when other wannabe goddesses kidnap you, and the woman you love doesn’t even care.

I’m not sure that’s what’s making it feel so hard for me to sit up right now. That could be a result of my bruised ribs, and the fact that I was poisoned by a weed that’s way more invasive than the one Dr. Dick kept talking about, and I’m now lying on a really hard, really cold slab of rock with my hands tied behind my back.

On the plus side, I’ve found Emma Bridle. Or rather, Emma found me.

I didn’t realize it until after I’d been dropped on this rock. I fought the entire time they were dragging me from that boat. Or at least, I tried to fight. One of the side effects of devil’s weed is that you can still walk and even talk under its influence, but you’re basically a puppet of whoever administered it, thanks to the hallucinations.

So I might have been staggering around and spewing nonsense—always a good look. I should probably be grateful Frankie wasn’t around to see it.

Anyway, after they pushed me onto this rock, I was just lying here, staring up at the stars—I could see a few, despite all the smoke and fog—and thinking about Frankie and wondering if I’d ever see her again when this little face appeared in my line of vision.

I recognized her instantly despite the truly terrible haircut someone has given her.

“Emma! Emma,” I cried. “Get out. Get out of here! It isn’t safe!”

But I don’t think she understood me—the tongue is always the last thing to recover from devil’s weed—because she only smiledat me shyly and said, “I’m sorry. But Haley says I’ve got to put this in your mouth.”

“Hey,” I tried to say. “Emma! Run! You’ve got to run!”

But because of the residual effects of the devil’s weed, all that came out was “Eh! Umma! Unnnh! Uh-uh huh-hunn.”

Emma looked sympathetic but still stuffed a sock in my mouth, then tied it in place with a strip of cloth, murmuring, “Don’t worry. She isn’t really going to hurt you.” There’s a little tremor in her voice when she glances Haley’s way and whispers, “At least, I don’t think so.”

I’m not going to lie: I’m not feeling very hopeful about this situation.

And it’s all my own fault for underestimating the enemy. Haley is such a young, pretty girl. It’s hard to believe someone that sweet and innocent-looking could be so skilled... and so ruthless.

But she is. If she can hack the system of an international biomedical foundation, she’d have no problem hacking Olympus’s. That has to be how she found out about my grandmother, her connection to West Harbor... and then to me, through the record of the purchase of my house. That was apparently enough to bring her to West Harbor with her band of worshipful followers, in the hope she might be able to do exactly what she’s doing: extort power—and cash—from the most powerful woman in the world.

I warned Guy long ago that our systems weren’t secure enough. But have you ever tried telling anything to your grandmother, especially one who also happens to be CEO of the company you work foranda goddess? Not only do they always think they’re right, but they understand literally nothing about technology, let alone modern life.

I must have told Guy a million times that far from welcoming the existence of immortals, today’s humans—much like Francesca, earlier tonight—would be horrified by the revelation that gods and goddesses live and work among them... and that the world is governed by both magicandscience. This could only challenge their core monotheist beliefs, and most likely cause widespread fear, panic, and violence.

But there’s something even worse that could happen: a power-hungry little narcissist like Haley could come along and decide to try to blackmail us.

Even if Haley never manages to get through to Gaia with her ransom demand for me—which is unlikely, because though Gaia really is my emergency contact, she’s listed as Guy on my phone, and she never picks up—West Harbor is already fucked. Gaia isn’t exactly all-knowing, but she can tell when one of her kids is in trouble. Think the fires around Center Island are bad now? Just wait. The whole damn place is going to go up like a cinder—and possibly take the rest of West Harbor with it—when she finds out what Haley is up to.

That’s why I have to get Emma out of here. I don’t want her, or anyone else, to die tonight.

But how am I going to do anything when I can’t even lift my head? All I really want to do is go back to sleep. It was nice when I was asleep, because then nothing hurt. I could sleep right here on this altar if people would stop shouting and poking me. Every time I start to doze off, I hear Haley yapping on about bones.Poke. Bones.Poke.

Here she goes again.

“Ash,” she’s saying. “Ash, wake up.”

Only Haley’s voice sounds different than before. There’s a sortof husky warmth to it I never noticed. She actually sounds a lot like...