When I woke the following morning, Becca was already sitting at the desk with the Glim open in front of her. I sat up and scratched my head, feeling displaced. Everything from the day before still vividly inhabited my memory, but something had changed and I couldn't immediately put my finger on it.

"Good morning," Becca said, beaming. She wore denim coveralls and the clothes she borrowed from Katherine were neatly folded in a pile next to her.

"Hi. Have you been up long?"

"A little while. I was just waiting for you."

"Why? Did something happen?"

She grinned and closed the Glim, excitement and wonder evident in her face, "It was like this when I got up. I've only been awake for about half an hour. There's a uniform for you in the trunk over there. I was afraid you would wake up while I was changing, but I was starting to feel a little gross so I risked it. There's more but I can't see everything from here and I didn't want to go anywhere while you were still sleeping."

"More? More of what?"

She gave me a moment to look around while realization sank in. The sofa was no longer badly stained and its torn upholstery had been neatly stitched. The dim lamp that had been suspended from the ceiling was gone, replaced with strings of bulbs, the kind you see at outdoor cafés. A decorated cloth had been laid over the desk, and a steamer trunk sat next to the artifact chest against one wall. The place was still shabby, but homier, more of a gypsy den than a rat's nest. It was also significantly warmer than it had been.

"You should change," she said, "I won't look."

I wanted to find a bathroom, or at least a bush, more than I wanted a fresh set of clothing, but Becca was waiting on me with her back turned, so I found the second set of coveralls and put them on, piling my dirty laundry on the sofa.

"Ok," I said, zipping up the front, "Ready."

She approached me boldly to retrieve her morning kiss, then bounced on her heels and clapped her hands excitedly. "Wait 'till you see!" she exclaimed and led me by the hand through the door.

When we stepped onto the catwalk, it was like we'd entered a different world. The floor of the warehouse wasn't just clear of refuse, it had been thoroughly scrubbed, even into the corners, until only a few discolorations remained. The metal walls, though still bearing signs of age, were so polished that they reflected light pouring in from the windows above.

"What the—" I started, thoroughly lost for words.

"I know, right?" Becca answered. She squeezed my hand and pulled me at a fearless run along the catwalk and down the stairs. Every pane of glass was clear as crystal, unbroken and sparkling. The huge sliding door at the far end stood wide open, letting in a breeze that felt more refreshing than cold, and Rachel's Jeep was parked just inside next to a blue microbus.

"Oh, look, look, look!" Becca pointed to three wooden sheds that had been constructed below the office, squealing and hugging my arm. "They look like little houses!"

"That is because they are," a commanding voice echoed from behind us, and Becca and I both whirled to see Miss Gold walking toward us accompanied by a little girl, with wild, copper hair, who skipped along beside her.

"This is impossible," I said, still in shock, "I'm still asleep, aren't I?"

The newcomer's laugh was high and musical, and she spoke with a subtle accent I couldn't place. "No, you're just a wee bit farther down the rabbit hole."

It wasn't until I heard her voice that I realized she was fully-grown, though very short, with a woman's figure beneath her patched overalls. Miss Gold closed her eyes as if her patience had already been stretched to its limit.

"Do not give it more grandeur than it deserves, Thomas. Finola manages a community of Fae with gifts for this particular work."

"Don't disrespect my team," the girl warned before turning to me, "And nobody calls me Finola except her. I'm Finn." She thrust her hand forward, and I took a step back. "It's fine," she said, "I know about your little problem, but you can't hurt me. I don't get sick and I can't get drunk. Hell, I could sprinkle cocaine on my corn flakes, and it wouldn't even soften the headache this place is giving me. I'm not about to join your little harem."

I looked back to Miss Gold for help, but she just stood coldly aside with her arms crossed in front of her.

"Alright," Finn said at last, withdrawing her hand, "She warned me you were a skeptic, but you need to get a handle on that fear before it gets you into trouble."

"You're a fairy?" Becca said, finally working up the courage to speak.

"Do you mean it's not obvious?" Finn turned toward her, smiling widely.

"What kind?"

"Rebecca, it is impolite—" Miss Gold began, but Finn interrupted.

"This is all new to you, isn't it?" she said, gazing at Becca with predatory interest. "How much do you know?"

Becca's eyes flickered between me and the little Fae. "I... don't know how much there is to know so I'm not really sure how to answer your question."

Finn's eyes widened and she winked at me for some reason before turning back to Becca, "Color me impressed. What I am isn't as important as who I am, but labels can be useful. Do either of you know what a phoukha is?"

"Isn't that what Miss Gold called the satyr?" Becca asked me, then turned to Finn. "Are you a satyr?"

"No," she chuckled and shook her head. "There are orders of Fae. Think of it as a taxonomy with elementals, lares, gremlins, trolls and whatnot, sitting at the top, grouped by the things they have in common. All phoukha have recognizable traits of more than one native species, centaurs, satyrs, minotaurs, and so on, but beyond that we're all pretty different."

"So you're half human and half—some kind of animal?" I asked, pretending I understood more than I did. My question drew a stern glance from Finn and a scolding from Miss Gold.

"Finola is not part anything, Thomas, she is a person. This is why it is rude to ask. There are many misconceptions about what these words mean."

"They're worse off than I thought," Finn glanced back with something between annoyance and amusement. "Aren't you supposed to be teaching him this stuff? Kid won't get far in the wrong neighborhood."

"He has the Glim."

"You're trusting his education to that thing?" Finn said, aghast, "No wonder he's an idiot!"

I opened my mouth to protest but Becca beat me to it, though she wasn't jumping to my defense. "The Glim isn't that bad, it's taught me a lot."

"You can actually read it?" Finn asked, turning on her with obvious surprise.

"Well, yeah." She nodded, "It doesn't always give me straight answers, but most people don't either."

"Remind me to never underestimate you," Finn laughed again. "But it's true enough, especially if you've been hanging around with her." She jabbed a thumb toward Miss Gold who looked as if she'd like nothing better than to feed her associate to the thing in the river.

"I didn't mean to offend you," I apologized.

The smile she turned on me seemed genuine and without rancor. "At one point we were called demi-humans, so you're not the first to make that mistake. You and I are just different branches on the same tree."

"So what are you?" Becca persisted, "Not the big group—I mean, like you, you."

Finn chuckled. "My kind have been called Amadan and Caipora... it depends on where you are. Most regional names aren't very popular in mythology."

"I've never heard of them."

"Of course not," she responded with suppressed mirth. "But there is, come to think of it, a small colony on an island in the Pacific, not far from Japan, that has existed for a few thousand years. The locals call them Kitsune."

"OH MY GOSH!" Becca squealed with glee, both hands going to her mouth, "No way!"

"What's a... what you just said?" I asked, feeling like I'd missed the importance of her story. Both ignored me, but Finn seemed very gratified by Becca's reaction.

"We're not quite what you think. A lot of the lore is complete nonsense, but it derives from our encounters with humans. You can blame us for nekomusume too. Same origin, different generation. There's a reason Japan has a cat girl fetish."

"But you don't look like a kitsune." Becca said, and Miss Gold's icy glare shifted to her.

"What should I look like?" Finn asked, poised like a party favor about to go off.

"Well, I've seen lots of drawings but they're all different. A little like a fox, I guess, with big ears and a bunch of tails."

"Something like this?" Finn turned in an exaggerated pirouette and something pulled tight against the corners of my mind so sharply it nearly hurt. When it snapped back into place, the fairy lights swarmed, briefly occluding my vision.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" Becca shrieked, bouncing in place, her efforts toward self restraint completely failing her. When I finally shook off the intruding glare, Finn stood transformed. Her height and figure were unchanged, but two large, pointed ears, the same color as her hair, sprouted from her head, and a cluster of furry, orange tails undulated behind her. Her skin seemed covered in velvety, orange and white fur, and the lower part of her face protruded slightly, making her appear elfish, even bestial.

"Finola, honestly!" Miss Gold huffed in displeasure.

"They have to live in our world now," she said to Miss Gold with a grin that revealed small but pronounced canines. "They can't afford ignorance."

"Then might I suggest you approach the subject with a little sobriety? They will not take it seriously if you insist on playing games."

"There's no rule that says I can't have a bit of fun."

"Is that a glamor?" Becca asked when she was able to calm herself.

"Yes," Finn nodded. "You're familiar?"

I interrupted again, feeling like I was the only one out of the loop. "It's an illusion. The satyr in my apartment—he looked like a little boy."

Finn shook her head and sighed deeply, and I felt the same sharp twist as she assumed a human form once again, transforming without the theatrics. "You know about the Veil at least?"

Becca and I both nodded.

"Some of us can sort of... reach inside and pull a different version of ourselves through."

Miss Gold made a disgusted sound.

"How would you describe it?" Finn asked in annoyance, then turned back to Becca and me. "If you can imagine millions of different worlds, perhaps you can imagine millions of different Toms living in them?"

"Sure, I suppose," I said.

"Most of them are just like you, but others—well, one of them might have brown eyes, or gills, or horns. The Veil keeps them separate, but all those Toms, even the weird ones, are still you. Some of us are able to part that curtain and borrow the appearance of another self. You're still mostly bound to the laws that made you, but the change is pretty thorough. It's a lot easier to sit in a chair without half a dozen tails under you."

"Is that why we never get to see fairies?" Becca asked, "because they all look like regular people? Earth people, I mean. Like me and Tom."

"For some," Finn nodded, "but it's mostly because we're very good at hiding. There aren't many Fae that can pull off a glamor. It takes a certain aptitude and a lot more time and patience than most people have, but the real issue is finding a copy of yourself that can pass for human. Most of us who would need a glamor don't have access to a form that's suitable, so it's not worth the bother."

Miss Gold stepped forward finally, her patience at an end, "That is enough, Finola, I asked you here to attend to our current problem."

"Maybe for now," Finn agreed, then looked up at her, "but if they aren't prepared, things they don't understand are gonna start jumping out of the shadows, and they won't know how to deal with them."

I felt that was a pretty accurate description of the past week.

"There are two more immediate matters to settle," Miss Gold dismissed Finn's comment. "Thomas must attend to his charges, and we must remove this place from Ungild's care."

"My charges? Wait, are Katherine and Rachel here?" I looked around wildly for some sign.

"Any minute," Finn murmured, her expression growing bored as if denied the pleasure of a new toy. "They crossed the river a few minutes ago."

It didn't occur to me to doubt her or ask how she knew. Becca and I ran outside in time to see a white cargo van pull into the clearing. On some level I registered that the rotting bridge had been replaced with heavy wooden beams like railroad ties, but my attention was on the vehicle crossing them. It braked to a halt a few feet in front of where I stood frozen, breathing heavy though not from exertion. Glare and tinted glass kept me from seeing through the windows, but I clearly heard the rear doors open and close, and moments later, Rachel appeared around the side, pushing Katherine in a wheelchair.

"Oh no!" Becca whispered, but Finn had caught up and quickly set our minds at ease.

"Don't worry, the chair is temporary. She'll be good as new in a few days."

I gaped at the news. The injury she had suffered should have required surgery and weeks of recovery, but I had no mind to spare for wondering. Katherine was beaming brighter than the sun. Rachel's mood, on the other hand, seemed as black as the hair that fell across her shoulders.

"Hey, sweetie," Katherine said, taking my hand when we drew close. She was as disheveled and unkempt as I'd ever seen her, and she was absolutely gorgeous, even in the featureless, white gown she wore. "I could really use a pick me up right now."

I leaned down and kissed her without a word, and she kissed back, flinching in pain and flashing another smile to cover it.

"I thought I lost you," I said, barely holding back tears.

"You won't get rid of me that easy." She put her hand on my cheek, then flicked her eyes upward, willing me to say something to Rachel. I stood and Rachel looked back blankly, but I couldn't come up with anything that didn't sound forced. I felt no blame or resentment, but the image of her on the other end of a pistol was burned into my head and I would need time to get past it. It had been a full day since I'd had to kiss her to save her from my dad and she had to be in rough decline, so I began stupidly, without any welcome or preamble.

"Do you need—" I meant to sound kind and helpful, but it came out dry, without warmth, and I cut myself short.

"Yeah, but not right now," she answered curtly and pushed Katherine's chair forward as the van pulled away behind us.

Once inside, Miss Gold and Rachel helped Katherine into one of the wooden sheds while Becca and I watched from outside. From where we stood I could see it was sparsely furnished, with a bed, a chair, and what looked like a portable toilet in the back.

"I was there when the feisty one woke up," Finn said, approaching us with hands stuffed into the pockets of her overalls. "We had to bring her up to speed all at once and I don't think she's fully accepted it, especially the part she played."

"It's not her fault," I said, "It wasn't her."

Finn cocked an eyebrow. "You don't understand. She fully intended to put a bullet in you. She might have been under Caratacos' influence, but when it was you or him she made the choice on her own. What you did for her will save her life, but it's just weight on the other end of the scale until she comes to terms with what she's done."

As the truth sank in, sympathy for Rachel overshadowed my anxiety. Becca tightened her grip again, either to reassure me or to prevent me from rushing forward and blurting out something that would make a bad situation worse. Either way, I appreciated the comfort. After long minutes, Rachel exited the room and Miss Gold shut Katherine's door before following.

"She will need rest," Miss Gold said, "but not too much. See that she walks to maintain her strength. It will speed her healing."

"I'll make sure," Rachel answered automatically.

"I have no doubt, but there will be no need today. You require aid as well, or you will be of use to no one. Choose a room and let Thomas give you what you require."

Rachel nodded and walked off obediently, selecting the shed next to Katherine's. I waited for some signal that it was okay to follow but it never came, so after an awkward pause, I took a step forward and Becca released me. By the time I opened Rachel's door, she was sitting on her bed in the dark. She didn't look up when I came in, and spoke softly.

"They told me what's going on."

"Hard to believe, isn't it?"

"Easier than you'd think. It explains a lot. Gonna take some time to work through it though. Fairies and shit. What the fuck, Tom?"

"I know."

She sat, unmoving for several seconds and I couldn't come up with anything to fill the space. "You don't have to do this," she said finally.

"Of course I do."

"He's still in here," she put a hand on her chest. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna freak out or anything, but you should know. Everyone talks like I'm a fuckin' junkie and long as I get my high it's all good, but he's still inside me. The only reason I'm not out of my mind already is because you're there too." I sat on the bed next to her. She didn't flinch or push me away, she just sat numbly staring at the floor.

"I'm glad you told me, but I'm more concerned about you."

"If you're smart you'll forget about me because if he shows up again, I can't promise you whose side I'd be on."

"You'd be on Katherine's side. That's enough for me."

She shook her head, "He told me to bring her to him and I would have done it. Nice try, Tom, but I don't get off the hook that easy."

"You were never on the hook. You're my friend and you've always been there for Kath. We'll figure it out."

"I shot you."

"I'm still here."

"Kath almost wasn't." She didn't raise her voice, but it felt like a shout. I wasn't managing my end of the conversation well so I started over with the only part of her situation I could actually help with.

"Rach, some of this has to be withdrawal. You know how bad it got when all I was doing was touching you."

She sighed, "I guess. They told me I'd be dead in a few days without you. That's fucked up too, by the way."

"I know. I didn't want this."

"You strung me along for a while though," she replied. Her voice remained calm. It cut like an accusation.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it was the right call. I got to talk to Kath for a while this morning and she told me what you were trying to do. She knows me too damn well."

"And if I didn't, you wouldn't have come over yesterday, and you wouldn't be here now. We both have stuff to work out, Rachel. Do you think we can do that together? Because I know I'm not up to finding answers on my own."

"Therapy isn't going to fix this."

"That's not what I'm talking about," I said.

"Then what?"

"I want you to help me find that fucker and send him back to hell." The bravado was for her sake, I had no idea what impact those words might eventually have, but tiny sparks bloomed in the air and Rachel actually smiled, though it was sad and distant.

"Fine, Tom, I'll try. But do me a favor and don't swear, okay?"

"Why? You do it all the time."

"Yeah, but you're not good at it. It doesn't fit your vibe."

"I didn't know I had a vibe," I smirked to lighten the mood and anticipated a punch line in return, but her eyes shone with unshed tears as they finally sought mine out.

"You always did."

The lights around her glowed, forming the request she couldn't put to words, so I leaned in and brushed her hair back. She didn't stop me as I closed the distance, or push me away when I lingered. When I had given her what she needed, I tucked the sheets around her and left her asleep in the dark.

Becca and Finn were talking at the far end of the building when I closed Rachel's door, and Miss Gold wasn't anywhere I could see, so I decided it wouldn't hurt to look in on Katherine. She was well past the point where my kiss would have put her to sleep on its own.

"Hey lover," she greeted me with a smile. "I missed you."

"You have no idea," I said, and all the relief I'd held behind walls of anticipation and fear and shame flooded forward and I kissed her again.

"Careful," she said, pushing gently against me, "I fully approve, but it still hurts."

"I'm sorry. Where did they take you?"

"I woke up on a hospital bed. It didn't look like a hospital, it was dark and run down, stone walls, and concrete floors, torches on the walls... and the first guy I saw had horns. I won't tell you what went through my mind."

"I can imagine. We've been getting a crash course in fairies too while you were on vacation."

"Oh, nice," she feigned offense, "remind me never to take a bullet for you again."

"I will. That was a stupid move."

"What part, saving your life?"

"The almost dying part."

She sighed, "Yeah that wasn't fun. I heard Becca was kind of a hero."

"An actual one," I agreed, "You might not have made it without her. I was useless. I thought you were already gone."

Her expression softened and she traced the tips of her fingers along my cheek. "Thomas, it's okay. I imagine you were in shock at the very least, and you're still learning how to manage yourself without drugs. Please don't turn into a basket case over it."

"I promise I'll choke it down deep and let it fester."

"You're such a dick." She suppressed a giggle and laid back. "If there's anything for me to forgive, it's forgiven as long as you do the same for me."

"Forgive you? For what?"

"I was a complete bitch to Becca and it was purely self-indulgent. I did a lot of thinking while they worked on me. When they told me Rachel was part of it too I realized that we can't live by normal rules, and there's no use in pretending to be or feel something just for the sake of appearances. The people that matter to me most are right here, and we're all in the same boat."

I didn't know how to respond, but she understood what was going through my head, probably better than I did. She smiled again and held up her pinky finger. "Is it a deal?"

"Okay, deal," I said, hooking my finger in hers. I knew I'd been manipulated and loved her for it.

"Good, because you need to leave now so I can sleep. This magic is amazing, but the guy with the horns told me my body is working overtime to heal quickly and needs as much rest as it can get."

"Okay Kath," I said, working harder to maintain a bold front. "Thanks for not dying."

She grinned, then winced, "Ouch! Don't make me laugh. Go. I'll talk to you this evening."

I left her and stepped back into an empty warehouse. At that moment I didn't care where the others had gone. The days ahead would be full of work and worry and difficult decisions, I knew that much even with the little I could clearly see, but the things that had been broken were beginning to mend, and for the moment I was content.

Except for the fact that I desperately needed to find a bathroom.