The church sat in the middle of Nothington, just away from the crossroads, over the arch of the Blue Bridge. Its white spire stood stark against the Belt of Venus, while the hills surrounding the valley held up the sky and pushed against the anti-twilight arch. When we drove into the town, it was silent without anyone in the roads or on the sidewalk, leaving the sun to rise alone in its leafskittered streets, where the bell of the White Tower only rang in echoes anymore.
We parked just on the edge of the crossroad and got out, carrying only what we needed. The circle was easy to build, but the candles were hard to light in the bitter wind that rattled everything but the ground. Once we’d managed it, we held hands, shaking fingers knitted, and bowed our heads. Eli started the chant and Jori picked it up quickly; the rest of us filled in, and soon the circle was tight with the energy of clasped hands and a shared intent.
We were going to bring Addie back, or we would die trying.
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