Once everyone is gone, the sounds of the city start buzzing into my brain.
Cars passing too close. Someone shouting a block over. A siren far enough away that I can't tell if it's coming closer or not. All of it stacks on top of itself until my thoughts start to feel fuzzy around the edges.
I don't know what to do with myself, so I start pacing out of habit. I can feel Isewyn watching me. Not judging. Just… aware.
I try listing things in my head in alphabetical order. That usually helps calm my nerves.
A. Antiques.
B. Battlefield. Why, brain.
C. Calamity. That's not better.
D. Dangerous. This is actively worse.
E. Evander. Is dangerous.
Oh.
When I say it in my mind, there's a small internal click. The kind I've learned not to ignore. It's the same feeling I get when a document slots into the right archive box, when something finally sits where it belongs.
I stop pacing and stare down at the ring on my finger. Alone with my thoughts, I can finally admit it now. Something about Evander is off. I don't know what it is yet, but I need to be careful. He's gotten too good, too fast, at getting me to lower my guard. At making me feel steady when I shouldn't.
I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. When I open them again, Isewyn is standing directly in front of me, I hadn't even heard her approach. She looks carved out of stone, solid and immovable.
"My dear Evie," she says gently, "let's take a walk."
"I want to make sure I'm here when Monica…" I trail off. I hadn't let myself consider the other option yet. The thought slips in anyway, sharp and intrusive. What if they don't find her. What if they can't.
Isewyn wraps a heavy arm around my shoulders and starts guiding me toward the sidewalk.
"Hearth and I are bound together," she says quietly. "I will know when they are headed back."
Something in my chest loosens immediately. I hadn't realized how tightly I was holding myself together until that moment.
"That's convenient," I say, managing a weak attempt at humor. "How does that work? Being bound, I mean."
We walk through a neighborhood of mixed live-work lofts and closed storefronts, the windows dark, the streetlights humming faintly overhead.
"Binding is a shared awareness," she says. "Imagine always knowing the person you love is safe. Not hoping. Not trusting. Knowing. You would feel it, like sunlight on your skin even in the dark. And when they hurt, you would know that too." She presses a hand to her chest. "It is not pain exactly. But it is unmistakable. Some people find that beautiful. Others…" She shrugs. "It is not for everyone."
We pass a small park, empty and fenced in. A swing creaks softly in the wind.
"The people who decide to be bound, bind together," I say, fumbling a little, "that perform a binding? It's like getting married?"
She chuckles at my phrasing and nods. "That comparison is not incorrect. But binding can also work one way. It can be coerced. Fabricated. Used by those who wish to abuse the power it creates."
I wrinkle my nose. "That sounds awful."
Her expression turns serious. "It is an act of great betrayal. The binding becomes a leash instead of a mutual tether. One commands. The other obeys. Always."
I shiver, thinking about what it would have been like if Ash and I had been bound that way. The thought makes my skin crawl.
I shake it off and redirect. "So how do you know Riven?"
Her face brightens instantly.
"Riven is my son."
My brain stutters. Completely loses traction.
She laughs at my expression. "Adopted," she adds. "But that would be his story to tell, not mine."
That makes much more sense, and it must show, because she keeps laughing, warm and unoffended.
"Say no more," I say quickly. "I don't want to put you in a weird position."
We pass the park and move between a couple of warehouses before she steers us toward a library. I didn't even know this area had a library.
"And the others we met tonight?" I ask carefully. "Are they your children too?"
I feel painfully out of my element. I'm used to knowing things, to piecing them together. Not relying on other people for context. This is called a conversation, I remind myself. Try not to be weird.
"In a way," she says. "Those who were left behind had to find their own families. Their own communities. But we have all been together for a very long time."
Left behind. I don't like how that sounds. There's still so much I don't know. For all I know, they could all be magical criminals or fugitives.
Given what I do know about Riven, that theory isn't exactly far-fetched.
Before I can ask more, she turns to me.
"Evie, Riven tells me you are an archivist. What drew you to that field?"
Her tone is more serious than the question alone would require.
"I…" I think back through the path that got me here. "I think I liked the certainty of it. Knowing something belongs somewhere. Helping it live again, even if only on paper."
I'm not sure I'm explaining it well, but Isewyn nods like she understands.
"Witnesses were always unique," she says thoughtfully. "But they were drawn to truth, even when it meant reaching beyond what they should have been able to do."
"Wait." I stop and look up at her. "You knew other Witnesses? People like me?"
I hold up my hand, the ring catching the light.
She laughs softly. "Of course. Hearth and I were Guardians." She presses a hand to her chest. "We protected many. Cared for many."
Her expression falters. Sorrow spreads across her features.
"Before the veil, we were…" She stops suddenly.
"What is it?" I ask.
"They have reached the gate," she says slowly. "They…"
I bite back the urge to grab her shoulders and demand answers.
After a moment, she exhales. "They are returning. We need to go."
We head back quickly.
Evander and Riven are the first ones I see, followed closely by the others.
But my heart sinks when I realize that Monica isn't with them.
Evander reaches me first. His jaw tightens, but he doesn't say anything.
Riven brushes past Isewyn and comes straight to me, holding my phone out like an offering.
The app is still open, but Monica's location just says Offline.
"I'm sorry, Evie," Riven says quietly. "We were too late."
My legs give out beneath me. Everything crashes in at once.
I was so sure they would bring her back that I had intentionally not prepared myself for what it would mean if they didn't. Why do I keep doing that. Why do I always assume things will work out.
I should have done more. I should have stopped it before it happened.
This is my fault.
The tears come hard and fast, anger and frustration spilling over. I hadn't realized how much I'd been holding in.
Someone crouches beside me. I expect Evander, but it's Hearth.
His huge eyes are full of sorrow that mirrors my own, and that breaks whatever restraint I had left.
He wraps me in a hug that feels solid and warm and safe. Like being home after a long time away.
The tightness in my chest eases.
After a minute, embarrassment creeps in. I don't want to look at anyone.
Still sitting on the concrete, Hearth beside me, I manage, "Okay. So what do we do now? I'm not stopping. I'm not giving up on her."
Riven crouches in front of me. His expression is hard to read. Concern, yes, but something else too. Fear, maybe.
"The only thing we can do is follow them through when the portal opens again," he says. "But we have a lot to do before then. Maelin, how long until the next one opens?"
"You can't be serious," the tall man snaps. "We don't even know if it will open again. Or if they even made it through."
The anger in his voice doesn't feel right. Defensive, not outraged. I feel the certainty once I think it. He isn't saying this because he believes it. He's saying it because he's afraid.
Riven closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I should have expected this."
"I'm all for it," the other human says lightly. "I've heard enough about the fae realm. I'd like to see it for myself."
The confidence is practiced and easy. The truth coils underneath it. He's terrified. Terrified of this. Terrified of being left behind.
This ability is starting to feel intrusive.
I realize I'm shaking my head when Evander bends down to help me stand. "Evie, are you hurt?"
I shake my head no. Hearth stays close beside me.
"If the veil to Irixa is really open, we don't have a choice," the pixie-cut woman says. "They went through. So we go knocking."
She means it completely. No hesitation. No question. I can't help but like her instantly.
The argument continues, but it's clear where it's headed.
I check my phone again, hoping for anything.
The app is still open. And Monica's dot is back.
Except it's wrong. Jittering. Jumping. Zooming out until it's suddenly on the other side of the world.
"What the hell?" I say out loud.
"What is it?" Evander asks.
"Her location just pinged back on, but it can't lock on," I say, showing him. "It's everywhere. Nowhere."
Maelin steps toward me fast enough to make me flinch. "May I?"
I hand it over without thinking.
"Fascinating," he murmurs. "We theorized how human technology might behave around magic, but this…"
"We'll get high-speed internet to Irixa later," the other human jokes. "When does the next portal open, Lin?"
Maelin rolls his eyes. "Approximately forty-three minutes."
Evander stiffens beside me, his expression carefully controlled.
"We need to complete the ritual," Riven says, mostly to himself, then louder to me. "Evie, there's something we need to do immediately."
He pulls the donation items from his pockets and starts drawing a symbol in a patch of dirt with the heel of his shoe.
"Absolutely not," Evander growls. "You have no idea what it will do to her."
"We both know there's no alternative," Riven says without stopping. "Do you want her crossing unawakened?"
Evander grips my arm gently. I turn to find him staring down at me, his expression cold and controlled.
"What is happening?"
"Your abilities need to be awakened," Evander says, voice tight. "When it happens, it will be like what you experienced earlier. Only far worse."
"And we have to do this now," I say flatly.
"If you attempt to enter Irixa without it, the magic will tear you apart," Riven adds. "Unless you've decided to stay here and wait for us to come back."
That isn't happening, and I give him a look that says as much.
"Okay," I say. "Do it. I'm not going to be the reason we fail."
Everyone looks at me. Fear presses close again, but Evander rests a hand at the base of my neck. Warmth spreads, grounding me.
"You will need all the fortification I can offer," he says quietly.
Riven, Isewyn, and Maelin arrange the items around the circle, chanting softly. The air hums. The whole thing looks unmistakably occult.
When they finish, Riven looks up and gestures for me. "We're ready."
I step into the center of the circle and try not to disturb any of the items. Evander stops at the edge with the others.
The air around me buzzes, sharp and electric.
Riven looks at me, waiting.
I nod, trying to keep myself from shaking.
I can't believe this is happening.
I'm standing in the middle of the city at night, trying to rescue my very new best friend who was just kidnapped, with a group of strangers who seem far more invested in my life than I ever have been, and I'm agreeing to awaken powers that started manifesting after putting on a stupid ring.
This is so weird.
Thinking about the absurdity keeps me from spiraling about the rest.
Riven starts speaking in a language I don't know, yet somehow understand.
The list of things I'll need to unpack later grows by the second.
He's calling for connection and power. For truth and witness.
Then the power hits me.
It slams through me, blinding and overwhelming. It is no longer brushing my skin. It is everywhere. It is me. My arms pull outward and my feet lift off the ground, like something is trying to tear me apart in every direction. Light spills from my eyes and fingertips. Pressure builds in my chest until I think I might actually split open.
Then it collapses inward.
The world goes dark.
I feel myself falling.
And then nothing.