When dawn came, it came sullenly; the night had seen far more than it had ever bargained for, and gave up its grasp on the world with palpable reluctance. But for Enna, the dawn answered when called, though it drained her remaining power considerably. She was Faded almost beyond the mortal realm entirely; the Night World was where she belonged, now.

Pulling the amulet gently out from under her jacket, she held it up and let the sodium-orange light from the nearby streetlamp dance through its whorls and corners; the shape was vastly complex, spatially intricate in ways almost no mortal mind could understand. Within its folded, fractal confines was a gulf of arcane potentiality that defined a space in and between universes; a passageway and a reservoir that held time and life immeasurable within its confines, and yet a cheap trick that was only good for making the same mistakes over and over again. She looked out over the East River, past Rikers Island; her vision, keener than any eagle's, could see far beyond to the sea and places distant. She hefted the amulet, clutching the chain within her clenched fist.

With a shout, she hurled it out into the glittering waves; it sailed high and far, much further than any normal human could have thrown it, until it disappeared into the light and spray of the morning. Falling to her knees, she ached to weep, but the tears would not come; she knew too much of suffering now to cry.

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For days, she walked in the shadows; she beheld sights amazing and strange, listened to rivers and stood contemplatively atop high peaks. There was nowhere which was forbidden to her; she had spells to bind doors to corners, to walk along the bottom of the sea, to journey to distant stars. She had enchantments to cheat death, incantations to create life, and charms that could take her to mystical isles beyond the mortal world where unicorns were real; places where she'd never be cold or hungry or have to pay a cell phone bill.

And all the consequences that come with that.

She searched, at first assiduously and then with growing listlessness, for the purpose which would give meaning to her struggles and sacrifices. She roamed the forbidden places of the Earth, destroying banes and monsters with ease; she saved hapless victims, lost searchers, and even entire towns from horrors and cultists. She journeyed to the furthest reaches of every conceptual realm, doing battle with alien gods and ancient beasts out of legend; but each victory left her hollow, and each exertion of her power Faded her further from the universe of anything remotely familiar to her. She was distantly aware that she needed a purpose -- a wellspring of Durance to preserve her -- but unlike Orton, she just couldn't get excited about saving strangers. His noble heart, singing in harmony with the song of the cosmos, had been stilled forever.

She sought answers, enlightenments, and meaning; she prowled lost libraries, meditated on mountaintops, and ventured deep into cthonic demesnes to trade riddles with voices in the dark. She stalked through universe after universe, falling deep in the yawning gulfs of probability, in search of a world where something of him still endured. But everywhere she looked, she only found emptiness; forlorn graves in lonely places, terse obituaries in strange local newspapers. You can't travel back to that universe, because you're already there. Inescapably, she was defined by his loss; and thus, he was the one thing which would always be missing. Because the thing that makes you you and not her is what you remember.

Eventually, she found herself walking along the shore in Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina; it was warm here, even at night, and she wanted to see the place where the Wright Brothers had launched their first flight -- something inside her ached to see proof of exactly how far people were prepared to chase a dream. Until you catch it, she thought to herself numbly.

Suddenly, a flash of light from a shallow pool caught her eye; despite herself, she drifted closer to investigate, remembering that locals told tales of lost pirate treasure somewhere among the dunes. Not that she needed treasure; she could divine or conjure anything she needed. But doing so always, always came at a price; and Enna was no longer the selfish young woman who charged everything to someone else's credit card. Bending down, she frowned and reached her hand into the shallow pool; and when it came up, it was holding something very unexpected: a large pendant on a chain of what looked to be tarnished silver, with a big crystal inside a golden circle. The interior of the circle was filled with intricate filigree, forming many strange swirls and loops which described a shape she knew very well. She sat down on the sand, contemplating it.

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Do I just want to pretend, too?

Maybe. But maybe it wouldn't be pretend. Maybe there would be a chance to get it right this time; a chance for a life better than this one, circling a drain of dead universes.

A cheap trick that was only good for making the same mistakes over and over again.

She'd just have to make different mistakes, then. Mistakes like opening up to Orton, instead of using and abusing him; mistakes like giving Gentry a chance at penance, instead of blaming everything on a scared, lonely boy with no friends who'd fallen down the same path Orton's black-clad friends had.

So much for being different.

But maybe she didn't need to be different. Maybe she just needed to try a little harder.

That is a price you cannot afford.

There were prices Enna was prepared to pay.

Gathering the scraps and tatters of her resolve, she focused her power on the amulet; unlike Orton, she understood what it was and how it worked, right down to the way it had originally been accidentally created in the distant past by a wizard hoping simply to store a little extra mana in a vessel. Visualizing the exodimensional shape it defined by suggestion, she let a little of her power flow into it, giving form and substance to a fractal, irrational hole in time. And into that hole she poured her will, her power, and her memories -- everything about what defined her as herself, flooding endlessly downwards into a void without definition or limit. The universe swirled around her, dizzying her, and --

"I'd appreciate it if you'd be careful with that." Orton's voice made her jump guiltily, and she spun around, blushing. "If you break it, I get sent back to somewhere very uncomfortable."

"Jesus, and you just leave it lying around in a pile of your underwear?" She remembered to be aghast. "What if we'd, y'know... rolled on it? During, I mean?"

Orton struggled to his feet, wrapping a blanket around his waist. "I'm mostly joking. It's warded from most things; you could smash it with an enchanted hammer if you really tried, but for lack of a better word, it's 'lucky'. Can't be accidentally lost or damaged, and it's very hard to steal." He reached over and took the pendant from her hand, dangling it in front of his eyes. His sight beyond sight, still barely more than intuition, could nevertheless sense his last moment in the previous timeline, infinitesimally small and frozen inside the crystal. Somewhere, deep inside, he was still falling, with three bullet holes in him, towards a fatal impact. And still further within, his previous regressions: watching his heart beat its last after Gentry pulled it out of his chest. Trapped in a sealed coffin underground, choking on stale air. Watching the moon crash down on the eastern seaboard. None of them were good memories, but he was here, and that meant he had at least one more chance. And maybe that was all he would need.

"Do you have to carry it with you?" Enna whispered. "To keep it safe, I mean?"

"No. It's Entangled with me, so it'll turn up whenever I look for it. In about five years, I'll be strong enough to use it again if I need to; in seven, I'll be able to turn it into a thoughtform and use it even if it's not with me." Orton slipped the chain over his head, letting the pendant drop down onto his chest. "But wearing it does make me feel better, sometimes." He started to gather up the pieces of the broken cot. "You want a shower? There's a gym I can break us into pretty close by."

Enna hesitated. "In...in a little bit, okay? Let's... just stay here for a little while longer."

Orton paused, then tossed the pieces of the broken cot into a corner. "Okay. The floor won't be very comfortable, though."

"I don't mind." Enna gathered up a thick blanket and unrolled it, then made a tentative little gesture; Orton did his best to appear reluctant as he crawled in beside her. "I'm sorry," she said, after a few moments. "I'm just... super tired."

"Yeah." Orton lowered his head onto the pillow next to hers, closing his eyes sleepily. "Me too."

She stayed awake long after he had drifted back into slumber; gently, she caressed his forehead, knowing that the Jiann of her future acquaintance slumbered inside like a chick inside an egg, waiting to be born. There were going to be a lot of ways things could go wrong; an infinite number of potential divergences. But she would dare any risk, keep any secret, and stick her head in the lion's mouth as many times as it took; she had a very clear idea of exactly how much she had to lose.

With infinite tenderness, she kissed Orton softly in his sleep; he mumbled, but did not wake up, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him and closed her eyes.

This time, she'd save him for sure.