On a bank of the lake near Alma, the witches and the shifters gathered. The tension in the air had grown so thick it pulsed at her feet. Rory glanced at the men and women at her sides. They were a mixed group of young and old. For their first time outside the walls of Inboco, they’d shown no signs of distress as she would have expected. Instead, each looked to be the very image of fierce determination.

  Rosemary’s youthful face beamed as the dowsing rod in her hand spun and sang. She waved it over her head and splashed it down into the waters below. Her eyes closed in concentration. Blue flames erupted from her hands and traveled down the metallic artifact, sizzling at first contact with the surface before continuing to the lake floor. When the last flame moved from sight, brilliant pearls of healing water left her palms and cascaded down the dowsing rod.

  The magic gleamed of purest light for a wonderful moment before mixing with the tainted depths below. The poisoned waters churned and hissed. Toxic ash, chemicals from mankind's negligence, and centuries of blight surfaced in masses of black ichor.

  Fine desert sands erupted from her body and she twirled the shaft above her head in increasing speed, forming cones of dust. She thrust the dowsing rod forward, and the whirlwinds obeyed, sweeping the tarry blobs inside themselves. They danced on the shimmering water’s surface, eroding their diseased contents as they spun.

  Once the last of the contaminants vanished, she screamed, pointing the staff high skywards. Dust-devils shot upwards and burst into purest light. The churning gray clouds overhead exploded and opened. The sky was a radiant blue. Sunlight, actual sunlight, glittered on the lake.

  Rosemary stood back, exhausted but resplendent in her accomplishment, and wiped a stream of sweat from her brow. “The water is safe, but Grace has to know we’re here. It’s time to move.”

  Rory basked in the warmth on her skin. “Will it stay like this?” But as she looked up, the sky answered her. The blanket of clouds avalanched towards the empty spot. In a minute or two, they’d be back to the now familiar artificial haze.

  “Let’s get you changed, my dear,” Rosemary said and waved her hand.

  The chickadee inside Rory sang and danced, flitted up into the forefront of her conscious mind and stayed. She flew a ways and perched on Rosemary’s shoulder. While still not something Rory’d grown accustomed to, flight had gotten easier. The further the ground moved away from her, her human side panicked and thrashed its way to the front. The delicate thread that held the bird in place snapped and she’d plummet. Thankfully, it had always been under Rosemary’s watchful eye, who would cast a spell, allowing her to glide back to earth like a feather.

  The air buzzed with the hum of shifter magic. Human shapes vanished, leaving little bundles of clothing behind them as birds took wing or aquatic creatures slipped into the watery darkness.

  Beside her, Billie melted away on the bank.

  Rory tried to warn him he wasn’t in deep enough, but the warning was in the form of merry tweets.

  A fat goldfish flopped in the mud before finding the water’s edge and disappeared into the blue depths.

  The only human left was Rosemary. Still standing in the shallows, the water lapped at her ankles. She began walking, but instead of sinking; she splashed with each step as though she were strolling through puddles. “Now,” she said, and a wave carried her towards the shapes of Alma. Around her, birds trailed and swooped. Dolphins, fish, and even a squid jumped as they moved.

  The city loomed before them and Rory could barely make out the building Molly offered as a good point of entry. Sure enough, there was an entrance beside a dock. Named The Door of Trials, it would be where the Daughters left the temple, secreted away to their meeting place with the vampires for the blood feasts of old. When they asked the vampire how she knew so much about the rituals, she’d laughed and said, “If you had the power to force information you were curious about out of people, wouldn’t you use it? I glamoured a Daughter to tell me all about it.”

  Molly’s simple explanation chilled Rory. Her innate persuasive powers made her no better than the vampire, in a way. She’d called them the villains while casting herself as the victim. Sure, she didn’t share their razor-sharp teeth or inhuman strength, but so what? She consoled herself with the thought that even vampires didn’t have to be monsters, assuming they used these monstrous ingredients for the greater good.

  But introspection as she headed towards enemy territory would only get her and the people she cared about injured, or worse. She shook her head and forced herself to concentrate. “The door,” she tweeted in Rosemary’s ear and pointed with a feathered wing.

  The witch nodded at her and moved in the desired direction. Both the armies of sea and air creatures followed, holding their ground at the designated spot. They weren’t here to kill. None of the combatants were. They would make a horrific example of any who ignited the hatred.

  Rory flitted to the dock and hopped impatiently.

  Rosemary gestured with a wave of her hand. And the bird was no more. She handed Rory a satchel from her robes and wished her luck.

  The bag contained a dry set of clothing and a few other things, just in case. Once she was decent and ready to move, Rory waved behind her and stepped into the darkness beyond the doorway alone.

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  Off in the distance, the diversions began. Explosions of various sizes echoed through the corridors as Rory walked, shaking centuries old dust onto her head. She glanced upwards, fearful if the ancient structure would hold. Engineering and structural integrity weren’t high on the list of Alma’s top qualities. In fact, they fell off the list near the city’s inception.

  Would there even be a city left to save? she wondered.

  Too many people she cared about were in the battlefield's chaos. Would their plan work? Would Doc and the other vampires get through to the prisoners and refugees through the underground tunnels? Would Sven and Nadine keep the Blueskins under control long enough to distract the guards? Too many questions.

  “What are you doing here?” A woman asked behind her, dragging her from her internal fears. “This area is off-limits for all but the Daughters.”

Rory hadn’t heard her approach and tightened her muscles to keep from jumping like a frightened rabbit. Once the initial scare wore off, she grinned a little too wicked. “What do you mean what am I doing here? I’m your friend. Why don’t we chat for a while?” she asked, and fused magic into her words.

  “Who are you?” the woman asked in a cautious tone.

  Rory smiled brightly at her and bowed. “Who I am shouldn’t matter for you. It’s what I can do for you, that’s what you should focus on.” What she had planned would mean death if someone else approached, but she’d have to risk it. She needed to weed her way through the Daughters with kid gloves since killing them wasn’t a grand idea. But she couldn’t promise a damn thing once she got to Grace. With this mere follower, she could change her opinion. Perhaps even gain a valuable ally.

  She summoned her inner Sven. He was greasy, untrustworthy, and so much more. But somehow all his negative qualities coalesced into the perfect antithesis of himself. He would have made a great carnival barker or late-night infomercial spokesman. “What’s your name, my lovely?”

  “Rose.”

  “Rose. That’s beautiful. Now, tell me…” Rory paused for dramatic effect. “If I could reach into the stars and pluck something from the sky, what would you want the most?”

  The woman frowned, and her eyes narrowed. “Like with magic?”

  Rory tsked at her and shook her head. “Rose, I’m disappointed in you. Can’t you see what’s happening here?”

  “Oh, I see plenty. I’ve been told how your kind works.” She crossed her arms.

  Rory sighed and dismissed the woman’s anger. “What have the witches done to you?” She asked.

  The Daughter’s eyebrows drew together. “Your kind made me debase myself with the locals. I mingled with them in a way unbecoming of an Immaculate Daughter.”

  “Are you sure that’s precisely how it happened, Rose?” Rory raised an eyebrow at the Daughter.

  “Well,” she said and blushed. “Not exactly.”

  “And did you enjoy yourself? Even a little?”

  Rose glanced around her for any approaching Daughters.

  Success.

  “I met someone.” She widened her eyes and clapped a hand to her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “We’re just girlfriends talking. Aren’t we? Tell me all about him. Is he good-looking? I love a story about a strong, handsome man.” Rory winked at her and put a fist to her chin.

  An exaggerated exhale left the woman’s nose. “I’ve gone this far. He wouldn’t be handsome by conventional means, no.” She looked down at her slippers and stifled a giggle. “But he has muscular hands and a sturdy back. I let him kiss me.”

  “Rose!” Rory said in mocked surprise and gave her a light tap on her hand. Years of waitressing, pretending to care about complete stranger’s problems to pay her bills came in handy. And, it’s not that she didn’t care entirely, she had more pressing issues than a Daughter’s kissing session with a random guy after he touched her waist.

  “I’m so bad,” the Daughter said and squealed. “Not as bad as Lucy. She…” Rose put a conspiratorial hand to her mouth and leaned in to Rory’s ear.

  For a split second, Rory wondered if this was a ploy to get her within striking distance, but played along.

  Rose whispered, “She went all the way... with a man.”

  “Wow,” Rory said, unsure how to respond.

  “She did it to get out of her vows. But Grace wouldn’t let her leave and sentenced her to hauling water ever since.” Rose shivered.

  “Does this happen often? Daughters trying to get out of their vows?”

  “Lately, yes.” Rose frowned. “I shouldn’t be telling you all this. The magic you used on me before made me realize who you are. You’re Rory, right? You came to the meeting held by the old Catherine with the man who talked funny and the one who used to be a vampire.”

  “That’s me. I worked in the medical clinic with Doc, too.”

  “Oh, I know him.” Rose looked down at her fingers and blushed. “I used to watch him when he healed the refugees. He’s very handsome.”

  Rory’s skin flushed. “He is, and very kind. Not at all the way others are portraying him. Any of us.”

  “That’s why I’m still talking to you against my better judgment.” The Daughter tugged at a cuff of her vestments. “Why are you doing this? Blowing up our walls?”

  “You’ve told me some things that’ll get you in lots of trouble, so I’ll share some things with you. We’re not trying to blow up your walls. There’re people rescuing Grace’s prisoners as we speak. Doc is out there risking his life to take them away from all of this.”

  “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”

  Rory nodded and looked down at her hands.

  “I don’t think Grace would risk herself for any of us.” Rose scoffed. “Grandpa, on Mom’s side, used to say my Dad wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire. I didn’t understand what he meant until I met Grace. I’m going to go sing a hymn for Doc and the others risking their lives.”

  “It’s appreciated. Can I ask how many Daughters are unhappy with the state of things or would that be too much?”

  “More than Grace realizes.” Rose’s light brown eyes widened. “Maybe she does. She has to keep moving the vampire’s cage.”

  “Trevor? Grace still has Trevor?” Shit, I forgot about him again. “Are the Daughters trying to suicide their way out of their vows?”

  “No. They’re more… um… They’re doing things to him and with him.”

  Rory opened her mouth to ask if they were torturing him, but upon reading the young woman’s body language knew what she meant. “They’re fu- er… sleeping with him?”

  “They’re definitely not sleeping when they’re with him. He’s taught some of them to pleasure him with their mouths, and he’s awful fond of sponge baths.”

  “Typical.” Rory crossed her arms. “He’s more than able to break his way free. This explains why he hasn’t.”

  “The cage is metal. No one can break through it,” Rose said and shook her head at Rory as though she failed to understand.

  An explosion much louder than the rest rocked the floor beneath them, and the two women glanced uneasily at each other. They sat in silence, listening for the lesser booms. As they died out, their eyes met in shared horror.

  “Find as many of the Daughters you can trust and go to the Door of Trials. There’s a woman named Rosemary there. Tell her Rory sent you. Will you do that for me?”

  “Yes, but what are you going to do?”

  “Wait and see,” Rory said with a false air of confidence.