“For a school of witches obsessed with illusions,” Caine said, “I expected something with a little more pizazz.”
“’Only when you see things for what they are can you make them what you choose,’” Mirra said. She grinned self-consciously. “Or so Illumine Duvane always says.”
The three of them stood, side-by-side, staring down at the gray, unfriendly building below.
“Ready?” Vix asked quietly.
“No,” Caine said. “But then I doubt I’ll ever be.”
She took his hand. A surge of affection for him pushed through her fear. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
He squeezed her hand in his. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
Mirra, meanwhile, was taking deep breaths. “Okay,” she said, a determined look on her face. “Give me a moment to conjure up some disguises for you two, again. Remember, concentration is everything.”
“We know,” Vix said. It felt as though a rat had crawled into her stomach and was busily chewing at everything in reach.