“Put my father on the couch, and my mother in the bedroom. If he wakes up hungry and she’s nearby—” I shudder.
Azrael lifts my father with ease and deposits him on the couch. Zora follows me down the hall, carrying my mother. I tuck her into bed and close the door gently behind us.
Then I lead them both to my bedroom and shut the door.
“If you fall asleep, I’ll tuck you in, angel. This is good night. I promise I’ll check on you tomorrow,” Azrael whispers before kissing me and stepping away.
Zora moves in beside me, offering her hand as Azrael sulks off to the shadowy corner. He looks oddly out of place sitting in the rocking chair. I tear my eyes away from him and turn to her. “Tell me what I need to do.”
She nods. “I want you to call to your magic. Close your eyes and imagine something tangible.”
I do as she says, imagining a butterfly fluttering its wings—glowing in the darkness of my imagination.
“What are you imagining?” she asks.
“A butterfly, ” I answer.
“Describe it.”
“It’s purple and black, with flecks of lavender, and there’s a swirling, sparkling mist around it, ” I explain.
“Good,” Zora whispers. “Now I want you to reach for your magic. Pluck the butterfly out of your mind and hold it in your hand.”
As I reach for it, the butterfly’s wingbeats slow as it hovers in place, waiting for me. When I grasp it, a tingle of energy surges through my fingertips.
“Do you have it?” Zora’s voice is gentle, full of patience, like she’s guided many others summon their magic before.
I nod.
“When you’re ready, Mercy, imagine the world unfreezing. Will the magic to release the town from your hold. Give it permission to break,” she instructs.
“Okay.” My reply is barely audible. “Azrael,” I gasp.
“Yes, darling.”
“Promise you’ll come for me, and that this isn’t all a dream.” I beg.
“I swear to you, this is not a dream. You have to let go. Be brave and let go.” His voice is rough and growly, like it’s killing him to have this kind of restraint.
I take a deep breath and follow her instructions. I imagine everything she told me, then I whisper to the butterfly cupped between my hands, begging it to release the frozen town.
Nothing happens.
I shake my head in a panic. “Please work,” I plea to the butterfly. “Please help me.”
I watch as it shimmers, then begin to shrink, smaller and smaller, until it disappears completely into a dark oblivion of nothingness.
The air around me fizzles and pops. A surge of power roars through me. My chest tightens. Whispers flood my ears, too many to decipher. Everything glows for a moment in gold-veined white, and then it all goes black. A loud pop echoes through the room as the ground beneath me. I fall backward, but Azrael catches me before I hit the floor. My eyes flutter open for a brief second—his face hovers above mine, blurry and close, holding me tightly in his arms.
Zora exhales sharply. “She did it. But she’s spent—”
And then, like the butterfly, I dissolve into nothing, losing consciousness.
Chapter 24
Azrael
Zora and Marblas accompany me on our walk back to the circus. I carefully shroud us in my shadows, shielding us from the townspeople’s eyes to prevent further panic. Many couldn’t comprehend why they’re out so late or what exactly is happening. When Mercy froze the town, she wasn’t strong enough to actually stop time—she only froze the people. Time kept moving, even when they didn’t.
