Almost against my will, my pains eased as time continued. Months passed, each less agonizing than the one before.

Slick wanted me to play the piano in his band. Benjamin was there, and I had to accept. Foolishness, perhaps, but I could not let go of that connection. It was both a blessing and a curse that the band didn’t practice all together very often anymore.

I pushed myself to learn the piano well. He had the purple flower. It was the piano I would take with me, when I completed the portal.

Which I still had not yet even begun to enchant, because I hadn’t the faintest idea how.

Despite my efforts, I didn’t seem to have much talent with the piano. Months of practice improved me considerably, but I couldn’t handle anything at speed.

Nor could I handle the prospect of failing Benjamin again, even tangentially. There was a spell my mother had tried to teach me, one of her favorites, that I’d blown off. But I remembered enough of her lessons… I could piece it together.

Flamus, the element of change. Of action, of impetus. Flamus, the very heart of will itself. True time magic was a part of its domain, however limited the application. The “ice” side of the equation was about reducing or slowing things down. The “fire” side, conversely, was about enhancing, or speeding things up.

If I could not play the songs at tempo, then I could simply make my very existence faster.

Some might call it cheating, but as my father would say, “There is no cheating in magic - only efficiency.”

As it turned out, the spell was easier than getting better at the piano.

Slick was improving in his spellcasting, too. Once he figured out how to make sounds in his mind emerge in reality, he became much more enjoyable for the rest of the band to work with, since he could directly show them what he wanted.

In January of 1939, Alice brought to my attention an amusing little story that she’d noticed in the newspapers. An alien from another world, sent to Earth as a baby, with special powers, needing to have a secret identity… little wonder that she thought I’d be interested!

Superman. I thought it was delightful. Alice told me that it was apparently a popular new comic book series, and she went and got me a whole stack of them.

The character was like a reckless version of my father. It was fairly ludicrous. A true immortal, immune to any and all dangers, and yet, even he feared to reveal his true self.

Of course, his disguise was hilariously awful. Still, it made for an enjoyable little tale. I imagined it was gaining popularity because of events out in Europe, what with Germany apparently wanting to take over the world.

This Adolf Hitler character was starting to make people quite uncomfortable. Not that America had been fond of Germany in the first place, but it was getting hard to listen to the radio without hearing about something or other going on out there.

As time continued to pass, I couldn’t tell if it was getting easier or harder to face Benjamin, when the band practiced together. I almost felt guilty for hurting less.

The song Slick was working on had a feeling of finality to it. It even focused on a theme of death and redemption. With the money running out, Rick and Johnny getting desperate, and the tension between Benjamin and I, we all had a sense that this was it. If this failed, the Boston Boys were over.

Domiano, from the Cocoanut Grove, was willing to give a push for this last major attempt. Slick pushed us all to the limit. Even Benjamin was finding the pressure stressful.

In an attempt to make this the finest display of music ever performed, Slick wanted something special. Part of the song involved execution by electric chair, and he wanted the sound of an actual electric current.

Not a recording of one. An actual, live spark of electricity.

Lou tried to talk him out of it, but the man was possessed. Eventually she relented, and agreed to build him a device to make the sound. It took a month or so, but she came up with a rather flashy little thing. Apparently, it was very easy to make something that produced visible electricity. The hard part was making it safe and reliable.

In the garage - now well maintained, with excellent sound properties, mostly developed through trial and error - the snakelike movement of the electricity was almost hypnotic. The sound was incredibly loud, too. I wasn’t sure how much could be seen through the haze of the Grove, but the device was unquestionably fantastic to see in action.

August 28th, 1939. It was a beautiful day - sunshine, a nice breeze, a bit warm but not unbearable. It was a day we’d been preparing for all these months.

Domiano had given Slick this big chance. He’d made this show the focus of the club for weeks, getting people interested in the rebirth of the Boston Boys as the Boston Band. After all, my inclusion meant the old name didn’t quite work anymore.

People were excited, Lou was nervous, Slick was on the verge of a heart attack, I was amused at how crazy everyone seemed, and Dorothy had absolute faith that things would go precisely as they were meant to.

It did sadden me a little that, despite inviting practically everyone they’d ever met, neither Lou nor Slick wanted their parents present. When I’d asked, everyone had gone quiet, and Slick had just said he didn’t need the distraction.

Dorothy wasn’t going, either, though that was because she wasn’t a fan of clubs anymore. Especially crowded clubs. Apparently old age didn’t agree with late nights much. She also didn’t much like the song he was showcasing, though that didn’t slow down her earnest desire for his success.

The moment slowly, but unwaveringly approached. Even I was getting nervous, despite having absolutely no personal investment in the outcome. Slick’s desperation was both pitiful and contagious.

Behind the stage, we were all setting up. Alice had taken the night off, looking lovely in her finest dress. Slick kept looking out from behind the curtain as another band played an opening song for us.

“How’s it looking out there?” Rick asked anxiously.

“It’s crazy packed,” Slick said. “Standing room only. People are talking, looking happy. It’s good, it’s real good.”

Johnny was thumping his drumsticks against his legs, a nervous habit of his. Slick was going through cigarettes like candies, and refused to stop pacing.

“Slick, stop obsessing,” Lou said. “It’ll work or it won’t. You did everything.”

“This is it, though,” Slick said. “It’s all on the line.”

I’d have told him it would be fine, if I’d liked the song more. It’s not that it was bad, it was just that it seemed so heavy and dark. With all the anxiety about the war, it seemed like gentle, dreaming songs were the most popular. Like that “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” song, in the new movie, The Wizard of Oz. It seemed to click with just about everyone, it seemed.

So I simply smiled at him instead.

One way or another, time would pass.

Slick sucked the last wisps out of his third pack of cigarettes for the evening, just before the show started. Lou hauled the spark box up on stage, right next to the piano, where I sat.

Fortunately the song wasn’t long - my time dilation spell was not easy to sustain. Not particularly draining, but required focus. I got ready to cast.

The talking voices quieted, and Slick took his place on the stage.

It was time. My spell interrupted Slick’s brief introduction, making his voice sound bizarrely low. Gravity, too, felt weaker within my little bubble, and I let my hands delicately fall to the keys.

I wasn’t truly moving faster in time, as that was beyond me. This was a mimicry of that effect. It was mostly my perceptions that were enhanced - my body was still slow, but I could easily use magic to force myself to move at what seemed like the “correct” speed for my awareness. Apparently, true time dilation had some bizarre side effects, from what I’d heard.

It was the cello that began this song. The already low sounds were almost inaudible through my spell, feeling as though they were vibrating my very bones. Even with the alteration to the sound, Benjamin’s music was ever beautiful.

Slowly, and with careful precision, I played the song. My fingers were wrapped in Flamus magic, so that they’d move “properly,” to my perceptions, which meant I had to move with caution - I could easily damage things in this state. I was effectively existing about four times faster than normal, which was no small feat.

Really, I was quite proud of this magical display. A delicate, yet powerful application of Flamus magic, so subtle that none but a fellow caster should be able to tell I was using any at all. My parents would have been proud.

Instead of preening, I observed. Lou’s face was barely visible through the dusty haze of the club’s foul air. I couldn’t make out much of the audience, but they didn’t look too enthused.

Alas. Poor Slick.

Lou moved her arms, and I watched eagerly. I couldn’t wait to see what the electricity looked like with the hastening spell. This particular part of the song was an easy harmony piece on the piano, and I could do it without looking, fortunately.

Her hand slowly reached for the dial, and turned it with one smooth, sure motion. The crackling, blue line looked precisely the same as normal, to my surprise. The aura of superheated air, however, seemed to move so slowly. The sound was strange, with the distortion, and delightfully novel.

The fiery, bright aura of the surrounding air puffed out from the electricity in a delicate, slow motion, hypnotic to watch. It seemed brighter than before, almost as though it had flicks of actual fire, and would spread to perhaps a half inch around the spark.

Only…

It didn’t stop.

My eyes widened and my hand raised in a long honed instinct as those flickers grew into true flames above the line of jagged blue. Flamus magic poured through my hand, and I willed it to cup around the box, angling whatever emerging energies upwards, instead of towards me or Lou.

The flames grew, impossibly fast, even to my perceptions. An instant later, the intensity of the explosion knocked back the barrier, sending Lou flying.

The impact had been gentle, and evenly spread over her body. She would be unharmed. My breath felt painfully slow in my chest, as fear filled my heart.

I turned my gaze back to the flames. They rose higher, climbing a plume of dust to the ceiling. The first screams reached my ears then, inhumanly low and wailing.

I raised my hand again, but hesitated. The barrier to protect Lou had been instinct, and surely no one would have seen that. She’d even been knocked back, as if by the explosion.

But to stop the fire… should I? It would be so easy right now.

Blossoming like a demon’s rose, the flames spread upon contact with the ceiling. The shockwave had been stopped by my barrier, but the heat pulled sweat from my skin.

I could still stop it. I glanced at Slick. He’d turned and looked at the fire, horrified.

Terror gripped me. Uncertainty. What was I supposed to do?

My hastening spell began to fail under the anxiety.

The flames continued to spread across the whole of the ceiling, seeming faster with every second that my control slipped, casting an infernal light on the horrified, screaming masses.

My heart was pounding, my breath coming fast enough that the air was seeming to rip at my throat. I couldn’t think… I still had time, but should I act?

A hole in the ceiling. The air conditioner that Domiano had installed. Flames were sucked in as they passed the opening.

I felt it before I saw it.

The screams returned to normal pitch as the second explosion destroyed my grasp of the spell, along with a massive chunk of the ceiling. Bodies fell from the dining area on the second floor.

Tears streamed down my face as I held back the heat from my skin.

“What do I do?” I yelled, as soon as I knew they could hear me.

“Alice!” Slick screamed, his normally beautiful voice an agonized caricature. He looked into the crowd with a terrified expression. “Alice!”

“Slick, please!” I sobbed. “Tell me! Tell me what to do!”

Lou was on her feet, and acted decisively. She grabbed one of the stage lights and pointed it at the far wall, where the entrance was. Rick had already joined the mob trying desperately to escape, and Benjamin was curled in a ball on the stage. Johnny was nowhere to be seen.

The revolving door was unmoving, and people were pushing against it, screaming uselessly.

“The door is blocked,” she said. “People can’t get out.”

“Where’s another door?” Slick demanded.

“There isn’t one,” she said coolly.

“How are we going to get out?” Slick said, almost screeching.

“I can make a door, I can stop the fire,” I said. “But it’d be magic…”

“Then do it!” he said, giving me an insane look.

Then do it.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

A feeling washed over me with those words. Peace. Confidence. Certainty. I no longer had to hide my magic, which meant my shackles from these years had just fallen to the floor.

Magic hummed in my veins as my terror instantly vanished. None raised by my mother could fear mortal fire. It was choice, decisions, inaction, and uncertainty that had paralyzed me, and I now stood free.

The fire seemed more distant. The screams, simply knowledge of the living. Time seemed to slow, but in an entirely different way.

Then do it.

I turned smoothly to face the wall behind the stage and darted towards it. Magic moved faster than my legs, and the brick wall melted at its touch. A line of ooze moved from just above my head height, down to the floor. As I arrived, I made a second line, perpendicular to the first and several feet wide, then also down to the floor. A final line connected the rectangular shape, and the wall was pushed out by the pressure formed by the heat.

Wind seemed to be rushing past, into the dark alleyway, as I turned back to face the inferno. Benjamin ran past me, an apologetic expression on his face.

Slick grabbed the microphone, which wasn’t working, then used magic instead to amplify his voice. As he spoke, I ran up next to him, to get a better view.

“Everyone! There’s an exit behind the stage! Be careful, but you can get out!”

A good portion of the mob turned and charged towards the exit. Slick called out reassurances and warnings to be careful a few more times, and the crowd seemed slightly more calm. Very slightly. But that didn’t matter.

Debris had begun to fall from the ceiling, and someone had to catch it.

Flamus magic moved at my command, and either deflected or shattered the chunks of ceiling that threatened to crush people. Some individuals tried to push past me with considerable force, but they found me as solid as a metal pole. I would not be disturbed.

Faces were red and shining with sweat as they poured past me into the cool air outside. Many, however, were laying on the ground. Some were screaming. Some were crying. Some were silent.

Silent and absolutely still.

I did not need to think about that yet. My only reality was to act.

I strode forward, feeling the rush of fire press uselessly against the faint barriers protecting my skin. So many decorations in this place, and they burned with such heat.

I closed my eyes. How many times had I been unexpectedly forced to deal with flames and explosions, by my mother’s insistence? How many times had I begged her to stop randomly exploding or igniting things around me, only to have her insist I’d appreciate it one day? I’d refused to accept it. Yet, here I was.

These lives… they owed their thanks to her.

My eyes opened again as I reached Slick, who had tears mingling with his sweat. He was standing awkwardly, holding a figure in a burnt dress, her arm dangling in decidedly unnatural ways.

“Aera!” he said, his voice choked. “Alice! She’s… she’s hurt!”

I extended my senses into her body. I’d long since learned that all one needs to see for quick assessment of injury was bloodflow. If the heart was beating, the brain properly supplied, and the blood not escaping too quickly, then a person was guaranteed to survive for minutes, at least. With another half second, breathing is also worth checking.

“She’s fine,” I said, feeling a distant surge of relief that Alice’s blood and breath were in order, mostly. “Take her outside.”

“The crowd’s still too thick!” he said.

“Then let’s open the door.”

An actual pile of bodies was pressed up against the revolving door of the club. Even with magic, it would be difficult to disentangle. I did not have time for that.

I threw my magic at the hinges of the door, and they melted into a metallic goo. The bindings of every connection I could see fell to my power. There was no air pressure imbalance to throw the door out, but without the necessary connections, it collapsed into loose frames of glass and supports of metal. The press of bodies fell outside, and cool air began rushing in.

“We have to get them out,” Lou said from right behind me. “Slick, give me Alice, I’ll get her out of here. You and Aera, get these people out.”

Slick was too frenzied to argue. Lou staggered under Alice’s weight, and I saw that she was favoring her leg, but she didn’t so much as flinch. She stayed by my side, keeping Alice from the flames.

Some of the people would not survive, even if removed from the building. I quickly threw some healing magic their way - fused a spinal column, stopped hemorrhaging, forced someone to start breathing again.

Aeros pushed at the still bodies, with Slick’s fervent soul, and I made their passage as slick as my companion’s name. They poured out into the street, almost as if thrown. Slick’s magic was growing dangerously strained, but his emotion was intense enough to sustain it, for now.

“It’s not enough,” I said. “We need to stop the fire.”

“What do you need?” Lou asked.

“Water,” I said. “Maybe the bathrooms…”

“No,” she said. “I’ve looked at the blueprints. There’s a water main just underground. Can you get to it?”

“Just point where it is,” I said.

She closed her eyes in a brief moment of concentration, then pointed below the bar.

“There,” she said. “About ten feet underground or so. All the water you need.”

I nodded and extended Aquas again, stepping a few paces closer. Digging quickly was hard… but only if the ground was hard.

Seconds later, Flamus was sending chunks of a strange putty-like material flying through the air. I felt the metal of the pipe with my probing magic, and pulled it open. Water began shooting up, all the way to the ceiling.

“Excellent,” I said.

Aquas magic moved so easily in liquids. Water, blood, it was all the same.

A stream of water was pulled to my hand, strengthening the connection, and I breathed. Joy bubbled within my heart, fueling my magic.

These people were mine to save.

The water moved, almost as if it were a living creature. It reached out to the fire, withering and boiling at the heat, but relentless. Against my will, the chaos of the flames was powerless.

“Aera!” Lou said. “The water - it’s rising over a few people’s faces. Some of them are alive, they won’t be able to breathe!”

Wait… some of them?

Joy faltered, and with it, my magic began to slip.

No.

For those that live, for any that live, bow to me, my Aquas!

My flesh began to strain from the force of magic I was attempting to command. But command it I did. The water rose into the air, leaving the bodies nearly dry, and attacked the flames with a vengeance.

There was so much fire.

There were so many bodies.

The flames were retreating.

“Aera!” Slick’s voice, this time. “I’ve gotten them out, let’s go! Alice needs you!”

He tried to tug on my arm, towards the back, where Lou had taken Alice. But there were still flames. I refused to budge. Seconds passed, while he tried to force me, but mere seconds was all I required.

The fire had fallen.

Everything was black, except for Slick’s panicked face. Soot and ash covered everything.

“Aera, please!” he yelled.

“Let’s go,” I said, and turned to join him.

Fatigue called to me, but not yet. I couldn’t be tired yet.

The cool air outside felt strange, and I realized I could drop the barrier that protected my skin. A dull ache left me as the strain of its maintenance was discarded.

Slick pulled at me, frenzied, to where Lou was kneeling over Alice.

He almost threw me at her in his terror.

“She’s barely breathing,” Lou said. “Aera, you need to move fast.”

A quick assessment.

“Minor bleeding in her brain, burned lungs, several broken and shattered bones, considerable organ damage,” I said moments later. “On top of severely burned skin. I don’t remember what injuries existed previously - I’ll simply restore her to the best of my ability.”

Slick turned pale at my appraisal.

“Do it, Aera, please,” Slick said, while Lou shook her head.

“She should seem a little injured, after that,” she said. “Safe, whole, but lightly battered and burned for now. Got it?”

“As you prefer,” I said deferentially, and Slick squawked.

“Not too battered,” he said.

“Right. Aera, you do that,” Lou said. “I’m going to see where I can go help. I’ll be back soon. Also, if anyone asks what you saw, you saw nothing, got it?”

I looked at her in confusion, but it was too late. She’d already run off to where some emergency vehicles were gathering.

Alice was all that mattered right now. One thing at a time.

The sirens, agonized screaming, and Slick’s stream of reassurances to Alice’s unconscious form drifted into the distance.

There was only blood, and that which was connected to blood.

First, her brain. It was the only part I couldn’t really fix. The blood vessels had already been cut off by her natural healing processes, so the bleeding had stopped. But there was dead blood where it didn’t belong. I gently cleaned it away, and tried to ensure no damage to the mind-numbingly intricate and delicate tissues of the brain had been done. As far as I could tell, it was just bruised. No major damage.

Next, correcting the blood loss. She was bleeding into a lung, and from where a bone was sticking out of her leg. Lung first - the leg didn’t matter for survival.

Her heart was beating quickly, but was straining from need of air. I pulled the blood from her lungs back into her veins, where it belonged, then gently “reminded” the lungs of what they were supposed to “look” like, using my own as a template. The itty bitty bubbles of flesh that let the blood and air meet were restored.

Fatigue pushed against me more urgently.

Not yet.

Her heartbeat grew stronger. I relaxed a little, but I still had a great deal of work to do.

The bones were next. All the pieces were there, just in the wrong places. I pulled them into shape, again using my own flesh as a template. The damage to the bone was minor, in the scheme of things - all I had to do was put the pieces together like a puzzle and then fuse them.

Now that the bones weren’t screwing up everything else’s placement, I could start putting things back where they belonged. Muscles, ligaments, tendons, flaps of skin.

Now to restore the pieces to health.

Bruised and crushed organs stretched back into their natural states. Her liver had taken the worst beating. Skin fused into wholeness.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the red and black began to turn into a light tan, and Slick made choked sounds of joy.

I checked her one more time. Her heart, her organs, her body cried out in stress, but only in stress. She was fine. She needed sleep, and a lot of it. I put a little mind magic pressure on her, to keep her from waking up.

I also reddened and dirtied the skin of her face a little.

“To make her seem more injured than she is,” I said, as Slick looked at me in confusion.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “But she’s not awake. Why isn’t she awake?”

“Her brain was slightly injured,” I said. “She merely needs sleep. She will be fine.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said again. “Yeah. Sleep. We all need sleep.”

I took a deep breath and the world seemed to tilt a little. I couldn’t rest quite yet.

Benjamin came over a minute later.

“Lou told me Alice was hurt,” he said. “Is everyone alright?”

Slick nodded.

“Aera’s tuckered out, but she saved us all,” he said.

Benjamin looked at me and smiled.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, still feeling a hint of ache when I looked into his eyes.

“No,” he said. “I was one of the first people out.”

“Benjamin!” a voice called out. Rick. He was hobbling towards us. “You’re alright? And Slick!”

“Lost you in the fire,” Slick said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Got a twisted ankle, I think, but I didn’t really feel it till I got outside. And my chest hurts like hell.”

Singed lungs, no doubt. But he’d be fine, if he could stand and talk.

“What about Johnny?” Benjamin asked. “Have you seen him?”

“No,” Rick said, frowning. “I hoped you guys might have found him.”

We turned and looked at the moving figures in the night. Minutes passed, but then...

“Johnny!” Slick yelled, a sound of relief in his voice. “Over here!”

It took a few rounds of yelling before Johnny heard him, and ran over.

“I’m okay,” Johnny said, as soon as he came over. “You?”

“We’re fine,” said Slick.

“Not quite,” I said. “Slick, you mustn’t feel too relieved, or you’ll pass out.”

The intensity of his emotion was the only thing keeping him going. His will would crumble without that support, with his spirit drained that badly.

“What?” Johnny asked, confused.

“Nothing,” Slick said, giving me a look.

My magic was still to be secret? I blinked in confusion. How could anything else explain what had happened?

“What happened in there?” Rick asked.

“Fire,” Slick said, to which Rick rolled his eyes. “What’s happened out here?”

“Police, paramedics, firefighters, journalists, and random people are everywhere,” Rick said. “It’s insane. People are saying crazy things.”

“The fire was crazy,” Slick said.

“We’re all okay,” Benjamin said. “That’s the important thing.”

“Not the only important thing,” Rick said. “Look, I’m thinking, the Boston Boys are kind of done.”

“Now?” Slick said, dumbfounded. “You wanna do this right now?”

Rick looked away.

“Silver lining in every cloud, and all, right?” he said. “Look, I’ve got some debts built up, and so does Johnny. We disappear now, and maybe we’re just dead bodies, you know?”

“We can make it work,” Slick said, but even his unending optimism couldn’t touch his voice. “Rick. We’ve been together for eight years now.”

“Good eight years,” Rick said. “Good times, yeah? The band is done, and you know that, Slick.”

“Johnny? You, too?” Slick said, sounding defeated, as the drummer walked over to Rick’s side.

Johnny shrugged. “Rick’s right. Time to go.”

“Love you, man,” Rick said. “Never gonna forget it. Maybe we’ll see you again sometime, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Slick echoed.

Rick smiled awkwardly, and looked at Johnny. They headed off together into the crowd.

Benjamin knelt next to Slick.

“I owe you a great deal of thanks, Slick,” he said.

“Oh, no, Benji…” Slick said. “You’re leaving, too?”

“There isn’t a band anymore,” Benjamin said. He glanced at me for a second, then back at Slick. “It’s been hard, these last few months, but I owed you for these years. My cello is burned, and I have no one holding me here. I think it’s finally time I moved on.”

“So this is our final goodbye,” I said.

“Goodbye?” Lou’s voice said, from behind me, panting. “What’s happening? Where’s Rick and Johnny?”

“They left, for good,” Slick said. “Benji’s leaving, too.”

“I’m glad to see you again before I leave,” Benjamin said, inclining his head towards Lou. “It’s been life changing to know you all.”

I was trying to keep my eyes dry, for his sake, but I was starting to fail.

“I believe this is the right choice,” I said. “Please, just promise me one thing.”

“Yes, Aera?” he asked.

“Be happy,” I said, and closed my eyes.

I felt his hand on my cheek, just like all those years ago. I opened my eyes to see his were as wet as mine.

“Sometimes I’ve wondered if one day at a time would have been worth it,” he said, his voice low. “I suppose I’ll have to find out. I promise you, Aera, I will try to find where I belong.”

I gave him a smile.

“Good luck, Benjamin,” I said.

He nodded and said a brief farewell to the others.

It didn’t hurt nearly as much as last time. I took a breath.

“Now what?” I asked, turning to Lou.

“We’re a good ways away from the reporters,” she said. “We stay here until things die down. Slick’s too big a figure to just go missing. We tell the reporters nothing useful when they show up. They see Slick’s okay, we go home.”

“Yeah,” Slick said. “We can do that.”

“Also,” Lou said. “I checked on Domiano and got him to agree to a cover story, but he wants an explanation soon. So not a word about anything, not yet.”

I nodded and relaxed a little. My soul was already recovering from the strain. I’d be a bit out of sorts for a few days, but I was no longer in danger of collapse.

It was almost half an hour before the reporters found us, in that little alley. Lou set the tone with a curt, “No comment,” and Slick and I simply followed her lead. Eventually they gave up.

Afterwards, it was time to go home.

We walked towards where Lou had parked her truck, and a sight greeted me that made my mind freeze. I saw so many things, but I could not feel them yet. Not yet. Not till I was alone.

Burned, reddened skin was everywhere. Bodies were in bags… five, it looked like. Hundreds of people were injured, and the paramedics were desperately trying to do triage.

They needed my help.

We walked past them.

We carefully put Alice in the car, after my repeated reassurance that she was just deeply asleep. Lou somehow managed to drive us safely all the way home.

The front door to our home opened and everything was completely normal. Did it even make sense for things to be normal? Benjamin was gone, people were dead, the band was broken, Alice had been fatally wounded, Slick had lost everything, and I had used magic freely.

Why, then, was our house exactly the way we’d left it?

The bed had never looked so comfortable. Sleep. Everything would be fine after some sleep.

Consciousness slipped from me the instant I felt the softness of my pillow.