Bailey wonders whose wish that particular flame might be.
“I made a wish on this tree years ago,” Marco says, as though he knows what Bailey is thinking.
“What did you wish for?” Bailey asks, hoping it is not too forward a question, but Marco does not answer.
Instead, he folds the glowing ring into his palm, and then he offers his hand to Bailey.
Bailey hesitantly reaches out, expecting his fingers to pass through Marco’s hand as easily as they did before.
But instead they stop, and Marco’s hand in his is almost solid. Marco leans forward and whispers into Bailey’s ear.
“I wished for her,” he says.
Then Bailey’s hand begins to hurt. The pain is bright and hot as the ring burns into his skin.
“What are you doing?” he manages to ask when he can gasp for enough air. The pain is sharp and searing, coursing through his entire body, and he is barely able to keep his knees from buckling beneath him.
“Binding,” Marco says. “It’s one of my specialties.”
He releases Bailey’s hand. The pain vanishes instantly but Bailey’s legs continue to tremble.
“Are you all right?” Celia asks.
Bailey nods, looking down at his palm. The ring is gone, but there is a bright red circle burned into his skin. Bailey is certain without having to ask that it will be a scar he carries with him always. He closes his hand and looks back at Marco and Celia.
“Tell me what I need to do now,” he says.
The Second Lighting of the Bonfire
NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 1, 1902
Bailey finds the tiny, book-filled room without much difficulty. The large black raven sitting in the corner blinks at him curiously as he sorts through the contents of the desk.
He flips anxiously through the large leather book until he finds the page with Poppet’s and Widget’s signatures. He tears the page from the binding carefully, removing it completely.
He finds a pen in a drawer and writes his own name across the page as he has been instructed. While the ink dries he gathers up the rest of the things he will need, running through the list over and over in his head so he does not forget anything.
The yarn is easily found, a ball of it sits precariously on a pile of books.
The two cards, one a familiar playing card and the other a tarot card emblazoned with an angel, are amongst the papers on the desk. He tucks these into the front cover of the book.
The doves in the cage above him stir with a soft fluttering of feathers.
The pocket watch on its long silver chain proves most difficult to locate. He finds it on the ground beside the desk, and when he attempts to dust it off a bit he can see the initials H.B. engraved on the back. The watch no longer ticks.
Bailey places the loose page on top of the book and tucks it under his arm. The watch and the yarn he puts in his pockets with the candle he pulled from the Wishing Tree.
The raven cocks its head at him as he leaves. The doves remain asleep.
Bailey crosses the adjoining tent, walking around the double circle of chairs as passing directly through it does not seem appropriate.
Outside the light rain is still falling.
He hurries back to the courtyard, where he finds Tsukiko waiting for him.
“Celia says I need to borrow your lighter,” he says.
Tsukiko tilts her head curiously, looking oddly like a bird with a catlike grin.