tear away with a subtly manicured hand.
She could still pull through, Lucy told herself. Though as far as she knew, no one ever had. They’d just managed to stay alive longer than anyone thought, depending on how much Dowsing Well water they’d been given.
The door opened behind her, and she scooted to one side as Mr. Jameson, sad-faced as ever, walked down the stairs and out of the hospital. He had a stack of papers in his hand: water rations for the Dust Sick. A lot of good it was doing anybody. Miguel at school had said that Dowsing Well water didn’t do anything different from normal water, that that was just something people hoped for so they could feel better. And now, despite the rations in her hand, the ones straight from Sal herself, Lucy was beginning to believe him. She turned the stack of rations over in her hand, looking at the smudges on their corners. So regular and uniform, almost like they’d been put there. And this other paper that had come with them, she thought, scanning a finger down the column of symbols. What was it?
But before she could think too much about it, there was a crackling of magic, and Mother Morevna’s voice boomed over all of Elysium.
“I would like to make an announcement. On Wednesday evening, on the twenty-fifth, ten days from tonight, a very special event will be hosted outside the church. A Witches’ Duel between newcomer Asa Skander and our own Successor, Sallie Wilkerson.”
Lucy looked up.
“The duel will be friendly in nature, an exhibition of magical talent and skill to bolster and amaze in these final few months before our Judgment. Attendance will be mandatory. Thank you.”
There was another crackle and the announcement ended. Sal? In a duel? Lucy couldn’t imagine that. Not even a friendly duel. Sal was too shy and awkward for that kind of thing, she always had been. Come to think of it, Lucy had never seen Sal stand up to anybody, much less in front of the whole town. That had always been her job, though she wasn’t sure if Sal knew. Lucy had protected Sal more times than she could count. And now what a sight it would be to see Sal, the girl who was bullied by Trixie Holland, the Girl Who Cried Rain, throwing magic in a duel! Even though her heart was still weighed down with worry, Lucy almost smiled. Then her mother called her back inside.
Aunt Lucretia needed more water.
CHAPTER 11
3 MONTHS
REMAIN.
The next ten days flew by in a rush of dust and blood and flames. Every day, I practiced with Asa in the sanctuary of the church, and every night, I practiced by myself on the roof. He had an odd style with magic, a theatrical flourish that was nothing like the calm elegance of Mother Morevna’s magic, nor the wild desperate flailing of mine. The spells we choreographed were fiery, showy, loud, and impressive to watch. And as the days wore on, we grew good at them. Still, nervousness rose in my stomach like bile, and on the night before the duel, it was all I could do to keep myself from vomiting into the washbasin. Once more, I looked over the carefully choreographed order of spells Asa and I had worked out over correspondence. Just to be sure.
A—light beam (miss S by 5″).
S—counter w/dust wall.
A—raise ground.
S—avoid (jump left), send whirlwind.
A—let whirlwind pick up, throw. Land and send fire projectile.
S—block fire projectile, send back to A.
Finale:
A—pretend to be burned.
S—“heal” A.
A—congratulate S.
According to the order of spells, Asa would attempt some weak magic, which would miss me. I would throw him a dust spell, he’d counter, then I’d throw him around a bit with my wind spell. Then he’d pretend to be angry and throw a fire spell at me when I “wasn’t looking,” and I’d turn just in time to send it back to him. This was the piece we considered most carefully. He had to throw magic at me when I wasn’t looking so he could stop seeming like a nice guy and seem more like… well, a heel. I’d whirl around, send the spell back to him, and he would pretend to be hurt by it. Then I, the benevolent Successor of Elysium, would say a few magic-sounding words, and he’d “heal” himself, giving me all the credit, and we’d both leave happy.
Two birds with one stone.
I stood and paced the room. Then I stopped in front of