Death marks an end and it's hard to comprehend life beyond it, even for those who are left behind. Katherine gave me the chance to be a hero, but once it was clear that I was too traumatized to provide comfort, she stepped forward, offering support to everyone though she grieved as much or more, crying only when she was alone with me. My own tears had been burned away, but she somehow knew that sharing hers would soften my heart so it could heal.

Surprisingly, the Fae encouraged us to attend Gloria's funeral. Finn, Meg, and Miss Gold accompanied us as protection, to watch for signs of my dad or idle members of either court. Miss Gold stood out in her customary white, and the only accommodations she had made were a pair of long gloves, and a wide brimmed hat with a veil. I had never seen Finn in anything but denim, but she showed up in a somber black dress with matching heels, and her wild, copper hair had been brushed and styled. She was radiant.

The girls and I kept to the back row, far behind Glory's family. Her father had canceled his business in Denmark and was comforting his wife, a handsome woman with the darkest skin I'd ever seen, while Gloria's younger brother and sister sat on either side. The family would never know she'd been tortured by an otherworldly psychopath, that she had lost her mind in the end, that she had given up a piece of herself in death, and that I carried it within me just a few rows away. If by some miracle I managed to defeat Caratacos, they'd never know that their daughter had been avenged. I felt ashamed at the lie.

We didn't stay long in that room for fear of what my presence could do to a crowd already overwhelmed with emotion, but we followed them to the graveyard and bore witness as they lowered Glory's casket into the ground. Since I was unable to mingle without serious risk, I waited in the van Finn had provided while the girls paid their respects to the family. We returned to Meridian drained of emotion, too tired to think about the future.

I spent most of my free thought imagining how I could have changed the outcome, or fantasizing about patricide. Maybe if I had forced myself on Gloria the way he wanted, she'd still be alive. Maybe he'd have let me have her if I pretended to go along. Maybe if I had thought to bring Rachel's gun when I suspected the Fae were involved, he'd have been the one to leave that room in a bodybag.

The one thing I had done right was to go alone. His goal had been to bring the people I loved within his reach. I would have given him anything had he succeeded.

For the next few days, the four of us couldn't be separated except during shower and bathroom breaks, and we accomplished little other than completing the first season of Bay City Bae. I found myself grateful for the campy unreality of it, and as horrible as it was, it produced some of the first smiles in Meridian since Sunday evening. In the finale, everyone broke up, and Melissa and Lavonda were written out of the show.

The actress playing Melissa had talent, at least compared with the rest of the cast, so it wasn't a surprise that she bailed on her contract, and Lavonda had been nothing but a failed attempt at social pandering from the start, which didn't sit well with any of the show's fans.

Katherine read aloud an interview with the director that covered his plans for making a group of affluent white kids seem culturally inclusive. A new Chinese cast member, lamentably named Long Wang, was to be introduced into season two. When called out for it, the director insisted it had been chosen for its meaning in Mandarin—King Dragon. He also promised a pair of blond and buxom Sámi twins representing the indigenous people of Sweden. In a shocking plot twist, a professional surfer, his hot girlfriend, and her hot sister would move into the beach house next to Marco's, ensuring everyone that the show's quality wouldn't suffer from improvement.

As tempting as it would have been to quietly disappear into the safety and comfort of Meridian, the courts still hunted us, and my father had made a promise to ruin my world, our world, if I didn't join him. Every idle moment worked in their favor.

"How are you feeling?" Katherine slid next to me on the sofa where I'd been sitting alone, lost in thought.

"Been better," I answered honestly. "It's getting harder to remember details."

"That's normal," she said. "Your mind is healing."

"I don't want to forget. It doesn't seem fair to her."

"You won't ever lose it completely," She said, her voice soft and comforting. "There will always be scars, but you can't keep reliving the worst of it either. It'll take time, but let it fade."

I sighed and leaned back into the cushions. "You know what bothers me the most?"

"Hmm?"

"His cigarettes. Like cheap incense that was left burning too long. If I could choose to forget anything it would be that. Even his smug face isn't as bad as the memory of that smell."

"Odors are powerful triggers."

"I know. Sometimes I wonder if there's a connection between that and a person's anima."

"What, memory and smells?"

"Kind of. If the lights are free will pushing against the Veil, maybe the scents are footprints, like a history of the choices you made."

She laughed, "I doubt my past decisions smell anything like roses."

"It's just an impression. It's not like I can tell what any of it means."

"Maybe you'll figure that out someday."

"I hope not. I don't want to see people like open books, just waiting for me to read them."

"Oh gosh," she rolled her eyes, "I'm not nearly as nice as you are, I'd take that and run with it."

"You already do, you're a psych major."

She sat up and looked at me with a cautious grin. "Was that—did you just razz me?"

"Maybe."

She kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Good. You can have that one for free, but I'm returning fire next time." I took her hand and held it tight. I adored her. She wasn't flawless, she was simply much braver than I was.

"I'm sorry we didn't—you know," I said. She understood immediately what I meant and squeezed my hand in return.

"Have sex? I told you I wasn't going to push it," she told me. "I might try to get you comfortable with the idea, maybe get you to want it as much as I do, but I don't want to make you do something you're not ready for."

"I can't look at life that way or I won't get off this couch. I'm not ready for anything, Katherine, and I don't think I ever will be."

"Then what are you going to do about it?"

"Hedge my bets. I have access to an advanced medial lab that's run by one of the best scientific minds in academia. I want to start looking for a cure."

Katherine didn't react the way I'd expected. Instead of encouraging me, she pulled away slightly. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It's the only one I've got. If I can find a way to cure the addiction, you and the others can be free."

"What if I don't want that?"

"Why—"

"Do you want to get rid of me? Of us?"

"Kath, please don't."

She shook her head and patted my hand reassuringly. "I'm not going to argue with you now, it isn't a good time for anyone, but I want you to consider that when you're dreaming up solutions. You can't make decisions for us."

"Would you feel the same about someone on cocaine or heroin?"

"I said I'm not arguing. It's a conversation we have to have, but not today. All I'm asking is that you think about it." She turned and kicked her feet up on the sofa, laying her head in my lap. "I love you, Thomas."

"I love you too," I said, and stroked her hair, pushing the stubborn lock back over her ear. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"I can see why puppies like this so much."

"What, petting?"

"Mmmhmm." She purred. " You'll put me to sleep in a few minutes."

"If you're a good girl I might bring you a treat."

"That sounds auspicious. What do I need to do for it?"

"Don't pee on the carpet."

She grinned wider without opening her eyes. "I'll do my best. What's my reward?"

"What do you want?"

"I think you know the answer to that." She was so beautiful, inside and out, that I wanted to tame the world just so I could lay it at her feet. Why did I struggle so much with the only thing she'd asked for? "No pressure," she added, and patted my arm. In reply, I ran my fingertips across her forehead, down the side of her face, and across her lips. Her smile faded slightly. "Be careful, mister. That gun's loaded."

"I know." I continued tracing a line down her neck and across her collarbone. She drew breath in a reverse sigh, and her chest rose as if to meet me half way. I had no idea what I was doing. My hand shook. She grabbed it suddenly and held tight.

"Don't tease me," she begged in a throaty whisper, "please, I can't bear it." The moment she opened her large, hazel eyes I realized how much effort she'd put into hiding her desperation from me. Beneath the teasing and innuendo she was hurting, and it broke my heart.

"I'm not," I told her gently. "I just want to help you."

Katherine took a steadying breath and sat up, holding my gaze, and didn't let go of me until I relaxed my hand.

"I thought this was what you wanted," I said.

"Not like this. If you love me, you have to bring that to the table too." She held my face with one hand while she kissed me. "It's okay, I can wait," she said with a soft voice and a softer smile, then stood up and returned to her room. She was so gentle with me, so kind. Why did it feel like a rejection?

"I do love you," I whispered, but she was too far away to hear.

Once I bullied myself into getting off the sofa, I began to organize, first my thoughts, then my to-do list. The priority was getting caught up on labs, which had piled up dangerously. The problem was that, as we neared the end of the semester, other students were cramming to catch up too, and the room would be packed. I called the department and they put me through to Professor Barnes, but she didn't answer and I left a voice mail. I contacted my other professors as well, to reassure them that I would be back on top in short order. Two of them grilled me with personal questions that I was able to deflect, claiming stress due to the death of a friend on campus, but it was clear that I wouldn't get away with another lapse.

Having my laptop was a significant help. I wasn't technically behind in any other course work, and I'd read most of the material front to back weeks before. The real issue was the school's perception of my performance, and without an eidetic memory, I needed my notes to stay ahead. The reference books and binders Gloria had retrieved from my apartment contained information outside the syllabus and were a tremendous help. The rest of it was answering online forms, writing short essays, and completing a few simple math problems. With those resources, I was able to satisfy the college with a few hours of effort.

Numbed by routine but still needing solitude, I changed into a pair of shorts and a light jacket, made my way to the perimeter of the island, and began to jog. I'll be first to admit I half-assed it, but I wasn't doing it for the exercise. I wanted a clear head, and nothing inside could give that to me.

Katherine's words echoed in my mind. I read in them an accusation she hadn't intended. Even Rachel's distance felt like failure on my part, an inability to heal wounds I had inflicted. I saw what my father had done to Gloria, and if I could have saved her by compromising myself I would have. Yet I denied my girlfriend and the woman I'd hurt most the comfort they craved.

I'd even failed Becca. I had grilled her about locking people out while justifying the barriers I'd built around myself. At one time I'd had an excuse. I learned to seal off what I feared most so I could live a normal life, but that no longer applied. I was cured of the fever dreams, the violent outbursts, and the pain caused by invasive medicine, yet I continued to lose myself in a maze of rooms and halls while I kept the front door locked. All my excuses were lies. I was selfishly comfortable where I was and didn't want to risk losing that. I resisted change. I was afraid to step outside.

As I processed those thoughts, Becca wandered through the side door, struggling with the Rohine tucked under one arm while hugging the Glim to her chest. She waved awkwardly as I passed, sat down against the trunk of a young oak and began to read. Curiosity got the better of me, and I left the path to join her.

"Hey," I panted, "are you doing magic with that thing or can I sit?"

"You can sit," she said without looking up.

"What are you reading about?"

"I'm trying to find out why I can't make the spells stick to anything." Becca waved her hand as if turning a page but she never touched it. It simply flipped on its own. She continued reading as though books had always behaved that way.

"Making them stick?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

She finally lifted her eyes and I could tell she was more interested in the Glim than talking to me, but she didn't dismiss me or my questions. "Okay, um... There's a whole bunch that comes before, like spells interacting with the world while the world is constantly changing, so whatever you're trying to make has to be strong enough that it actually does something, but flexible enough that it doesn't just break. There's a lot more I don't understand."

"That's okay, just tell me what you're thinking."

"Well, I thought about how Meg described magic like you were writing a story. There's already a whole book, that's the real world. The Rohine is like a pencil that lets me add my own words to the story."

I nodded optimistically, hoping I'd be able to put the pieces together before the end of our conversation.

"So here's the problem," she went on, "You can't keep adding pages. If you keep writing new things it just stops making sense, like if today I make plants grow, and—I don't know, maybe tomorrow I turn everything purple."

"You can do that?"

"No, that's not the point. It just means they don't fit together. If you make too many new things, the Rohine sort of fills up, like trying to write too much on one page. I don't know if it's built in or if it's just the way things are, but that part takes care of itself. When you stop casting the spell, it gets erased."

"That's why the wards need a living will," I guessed, and she nodded encouragingly.

"Right, but it's more complicated than that. Maybe erased is a bad way to explain it, because spells leave memories, traces in the Veil. They're a special kind of change, not simple like someone deciding what shoes to wear. When the fairy queen broke the Rohine, she kind of ruined that part of it. All it had was memories of magic."

"Is that why the spells were easier? Because you were casting memories?"

"Exactly. At least I think so. Meg said the druids added something to it to make those memories stand out more. Well we fixed it, right? All of that is gone. The memories are still there, but you can't just call them out and that kind of sucks, but now you can make whole new spells. I don't know which I like better."

"What does that have to do with making a spell permanent?"

"It's not about making them permanent, just longer, so they don't need a person or an artifact to keep working. The last thing I did with the Rohine was make a flower grow, right?"

"A little more than that, but yeah."

"Well, that memory was more recent, so I kind of found it again. Bits of it, sort of an impression of what it was supposed to be. I made a... a copy. Like tracing over something. It's not like before. I was able to help you in the van, and I can make a seed sprout, but that's all, like giving them a nudge, and everything falls apart when I let go."

I nodded again, encouraging her to continue.

"I know it's silly, but I don't know how to describe it any other way."

"You've got a better grip on this than I do, you should have been the one with a fairy family tree." Her smile didn't hide the color in her cheeks, but she deserved the compliment and then some.

"Not really. I don't even know if I'm right, maybe I just got lucky. Even if I am, it's still not real magic. Finn's healer friend somehow made his powers stick to you and Katherine and you both kept getting better even when he wasn't around. I'm missing something, and I want to figure out what."

I nodded and levered myself to my feet, knowing she wouldn't attempt it while I was nearby. "Alright, I don't want to get in the way, let me know if I can help." As I turned to go, she opened her mouth silently, then pressed her lips together. "Was there something else?" I asked.

"I don't know," she replied with a sigh and set the Glim aside. "You know the mirror?"

"Can you be more specific?"

"The bowl that we used to talk to Miss Gold."

"Oh, right, what about it?"

She hesitated before answering. "I've been working on that too. I thought it might be useful. It's a whole lot like scrying bowls in fantasy books, and I thought that was kind of cool, but it's almost as difficult to use as the Rohine."

"No software?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not like that. The Rohine wasn't made for an exact purpose, but the mirror was. It's hard to use because it listens to your head, and if your head isn't clear then whatever you get back from it is messy and confusing. Mine is usually pretty messed up."

I nodded to show I was listening.

"I tried it anyway," she continued, "and it showed me stuff, but at first it was just a big glop of images and ideas. When I got it to focus a little bit, it didn't show me anything I wanted."

"What did you see?"

"Well," she blushed, "I saw Kath while she was changing in her room, so you don't need two bowls to see other people, just if you want to talk to them. I didn't spy on her or anything."

I chuckled. Katherine had developed a bit of an exhibitionist streak and I wasn't the only one who had noticed. "I don't think she'd be too bothered."

"Yeah, well I kept trying, just once in a while. I saw other things and now I think I should have said something."

"What?"

She paused again and bit her lip. "I don't know what it means, but one vision showed you crawling out of the ground, like you were digging your way through it, and Miss Gold was there too, pulling you up. I think it was her. She looked different, like she was more than one person."

"That sounds like the kind of dream you get from too much pizza."

A giggle slipped past her lips, but shook her head. "No, listen, there's more. A wolf was carrying a rabbit in its mouth, but not like it was going to eat it, it was just carrying it around. It made me really anxious, but it was so stupid. That's why I didn't say anything."

"I still don't get it."

Her eyes went wide and serious. "There was a big wolf at the island on Monday morning before Miss Gold left to get you. It was far away so I didn't get a good look, but it was almost as tall as the van. Then when we picked you up, Finn's driver said something about Cleigh carrying Gloria to the healer. Cleigh was the wolf. I think Gloria was the rabbit. Miss Gold helped you out of the basement, so it was like she was pulling you out of the ground..." she trailed off and looked away. My throat felt as though I'd swallowed a spoonful of sand.

"You think—you think it predicted what happened?"

"Kind of. It wasn't very clear, though, was it? Gloria hadn't even called you yet. The day before that it showed me mice in the sewer, and they were all sick. It just grossed me out, but now I wonder if that was about Amy's clan. There was more too. There's no way they were all about us."

"Like what?"

"A giant tree eating someone, two candles that had only one flame, a room made out of mirrors that all showed different reflections, someone trying to fix a broken clock... there was another with you in it, but it made even less sense and it wasn't scary. You were just sitting on a cracked chair made out of glass."

I couldn't fault her for not speaking up. In hindsight, it seemed to have prophesied the aftermath of Stewart Hall, but not the events leading up to it or the danger itself. Even had I known about the visions, nothing would have changed.

"Okay," I said at last. "Maybe we should pay more attention to it in the future. It doesn't sound very helpful, but if you get any more uncomfortable feelings from it—"

"I'll tell you, I promise, just..."

"Just what?"

"Don't get so careful you never do anything. You're already afraid, and I don't want to scare you more."

I inclined my head to let her know I understood and left her to study, but couldn't leave her with a promise. Even Becca saw my fear and had the grace not to throw it in my face. I had become defined by inaction, and what little I tried had failed spectacularly. The temptation to wallow in self-pity weighed heavy as I returned to the warehouse with no clear choices before me.