The faint light of dawn glowed on the mountainous horizon when they pulled into the Waffle Barn’s parking lot. Gretta was grateful to be on her own two feet again. Rowan hadn’t gotten them killed, but she wasn’t sure if that was luck or driving skill—she suspected luck.

The lot had a dozen cars—surprising, given the time of day. The night air was cool, dry, and tasted of dust. The faint smell of coffee and bacon from the restaurant mingled with the smell of gasoline from the truck stop across the street.

“Let’s get some waffles,” Rowan said.

“Shouldn’t we be looking for Sofia?” Gretta asked.

Rowan jerked his head toward the hotel a quarter block away. “She’s there.”

Gretta put her hands on her hips. “If she’s there, we should go get her.”

“She’s sleeping. And when was the last time either of us ate?” he asked.

Her eyes narrowed. “What if she’s being turned into the Warlord’s avatar right now?”

“I don’t think they’d do it in a hotel. There’ll be too much energy, and they wouldn’t want to be interrupted. Besides, I suspect they’ll do it at dawn, and since dawn is nearly here and they haven’t moved, it’ll be tomorrow at the earliest.” Rowan started walking toward the Waffle Barn.

Gretta reluctantly followed him. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t know much about magic, but belief seems to be half of it. If you think something has to happen, sometimes it does. The ritual to ascend had to happen in the morning, which I think was symbolism for a new beginning.” Rowan held the door open for her.

She shot him a glare before pushing the door open. “What does that have to do with making an avatar?”

“How many?” a man wearing a purple shirt and pants asked.

Rowan held up two fingers to the man. “I doubt that dawn matters, but at the time, we all had to believe it mattered to make it work. I suspect Marcus will feel the same way about returning to Earth. He’ll see this as a new chapter, a new beginning, if you will, in his life.”

The host gestured to a table, flipped over a pair of coffee cups, and slid two paper menus onto the table.

As they were about to sit, a man in a business suit passed by. Rowan seemed distracted and bumped into the man.

“Sorry,” Rowan muttered and clapped the man on the shoulder.

The man looked irritated but kept going.

Gretta sat facing the door. “What if they moved Sofia while we were driving?”

Rowan glanced back at the door uncomfortably, then took the seat facing the kitchen. “They might have, but I think Sofia would have said something.”

“It’s so weird that people can just talk to you wherever they are,” Gretta said.

“Very weird,” Rowan said. “The first time it happened, I was sure I was losing my mind.”

A waitress filled their coffee cups. “I’ll give you a minute to look over the menus.”

Gretta frowned. “What if they knocked her out or something? Maybe she didn’t have time to pray.”

Rowan shrugged. “Gabriela might know I’m back, but she probably doesn’t know that Sofia can pray to me. I suspect Sofia didn’t know until recently. Maybe Nadia told her.” He set his menu down.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Gretta scanned the menu as the waitress walked back up.

“I’ll have the Big Bessy Stack.” Rowan handed his menu to the waitress.

Gretta handed over her menu, too. “Same, but I’d like a side of fruit instead of bacon.”

The waitress jotted the orders down. “Thank you,” she said and walked back toward the kitchen.

“Do you know which room she’s in?” Gretta asked.

Rowan shook his head. “She didn’t say.”

“Well, can you ask her?”

Rowan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I can just send people messages. I think they have to start the call, so to speak.”

Gretta took a sip of coffee. “Maybe send her a dream or something? I thought gods could do that.”

Rowan blinked. “Maybe Nadia can do that, but that seems like something outside my domain.”

“Have you tried?”

“I haven’t.” Rowan took a sip of his coffee. “But what if I give her nightmares or something? I’d rather not do that to her.”

“She’s being held prisoner. I doubt you’ll make it worse,” Gretta said.

“Think so?” Rowan smirked and took a drink.

Gretta rolled her eyes. “Okay, you probably could make it worse.”

The waitress returned with two plates stacked with waffles and set one plate in front of each of them.

“Need anything else?” she asked.

Rowan and Gretta had already put their first oversized bites in their mouth.

Gretta waved her fork side to side—the universal gesture of ‘my mouth is full, you can leave now, but come back with more coffee.’ She sincerely hoped the waitress understood the coffee part.

They ate silently, each working through a stack of syrup-and-waffle delight and lost in their thoughts.

As she stabbed a piece of fruit, she asked, “How are we going to get Sofia away from them?”

Rowan shrugged. “Same way we’ve always dealt with them.”

Gretta smirked. “Getting shot a bunch doesn’t seem like much of a plan.”

It was Rowan’s turn to roll his eyes. “I meant—I’ll use my good looks to stun them and you grab the kid and run.”

Gretta snorted.

“Hey, now!” Rowan put a hand to his chest. “There is no need to laugh.”

Gretta drained her coffee to hide her smile. “I guess we’ll improvise. And who knows, maybe they find the homeless look attractive.”

Rowan’s mouth was still smiling, but Gretta noticed his eyes were sad.

“I imagine they found the cellar,” he said.

“Was that really your home?”

“I’ve been hiding from Ellie for so long, and she has law enforcement under her finger.” Rowan shrugged. “That was all I could manage.”

“My rent is past due now, and the FBI is looking for me.” Gretta sighed. “I guess I’m in the same boat.”

“We’ll figure that out after we get Sofia,” he said.

Gretta looked down at her empty cup. “You know that I have to find my mom, right?”

“I don’t think your mom is alive,” Rowan said.

She looked up and found him watching her. “Then I need to know what happened.”

Rowan nodded. “I know.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“You know that I can’t do that.” Rowan smirked. “Besides, I like a little excitement.”

Greta set her fork down on her empty plate. “How are we going to pay?”

Rowan pulled out a wallet and flipped through it. There was cash and a few cards. He pulled out one of the cards. “Credit.”

She thought back to the man he bumped into as they were about to sit, and narrowed her eyes. “You better not ever pick my pocket.”

He pushed the car keys toward her. “Meet me at the car. If the card gets declined, it’s best if the car’s already running.”

Gretta let out a sigh. She pondered how her life lately had turned into a whirlwind of danger and terror, and somewhere along the line, in all the chaos, she’d become willing to do anything to survive, including steal. Rowan did it so easily, but she wondered if he was in the same boat. He had nothing left, and he would never have a job again. Would this be her life? Living out of an abandoned cellar to survive?

The door jingled as she stepped onto the street. Rowan had lost everything helping Sofia. Not just worldly possessions, but he’d be on the run again—he’d given up the little bit of freedom he had to help Sofia.

She got into the car and adjusted the seat. Maybe she had done the same.

She watched Rowan walking out with a to-go box. She smiled. Things were about to get dangerous, but at least she wasn’t alone.