Derry makes a pit stop in the kitchen on our way into the house, slicing through a loaf of freshly baked bread. Who’s baking bread in the middle of the night? Don’t all Sumairs need to sleep? Brody does.

“We sleep,” he asserts. “Just not tonight.”

I take a healthy bite of his offering. Extra centuries have given someone extra time to perfect domestic arts like baking. It’s delicious, but you know what it isn’t? Cake.

His expression is playful. “Take a guess who made it.”

“Is this a trick question?” I lift a brow. “Was it you?”

“Nope.” He pulls me to the stairs.

“Kiley?”

He laughs. “Nope, she’s been kicking for over five hundred years, and she still can’t cook anything that doesn’t invoke a gag reflex.”

I follow him up the stairs, and we pause on the landing.

“Melanie?”

“She can cook. She just hates to do it. I’m pretty sure she only took me in so she didn’t have to prepare her own meals.”

“Among other reasons,” says a cool voice from the living room.

She’s in the center of several easels. There’s paint on each canvas, on the floor, on the ceiling, and all over her face. It’s a chore not cracking a smile at the display.

“Our darling Barry is the house chef,” she announces proudly. “If you want to see something amusing, ask him to show you his apron.”

“Would he bake me a cake?” I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, but I am ending up with a cake at some point, or I swear on my honor, the world will burn. Derry chuckles.

“I told you she wouldn’t run,” she chides Derry. “You need to have more faith in me.”

“I have tons of faith in you,” he argues. “More bread?”

My stomach growls, rudely broadcasting the truth. Who am I kidding? I’m standing next to a mind-reader. I’ll never be able to lie again.

He kisses me on the forehead. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not at an advantage.”

I scoff.

“You can read my emotions just as easily as I can read your thoughts. It’s a nice balance.”

It is. Balance is paramount in everything we’re trying to accomplish here. Opposite sides meeting in the middle of a bridge pending construction.

“You’ve brought him right out of his shell,” Melanie claims. “Did he neglect telling you?”

I shrug. “Water, huh?”

“Ice.”

“Specialty?”

“Dreamwalking.”

“Is that like sleepwalking?”

Water-ice-dreams-walking. What can she do with that sort of ability? It hits me like a cold slap to the face. The Tribunal has a team of scholars who can essentially see everything: past, present, and future.

Barry effectively kept the Connells shielded from the Writers, but if that’s true, how did Derry and his family find me? Their arrival into my life isn’t coincidental. On the contrary, they’re here because of me. There’s only one way they could’ve known about me. Melanie can see the future.

This must be tied to her ice-wielding power. In cryogenics, the body is frozen to prolong life. There have been several cases of people surviving for longer periods under cold water, thus avoiding drowning. In theory, if she could slow herself, wouldn’t everyone around her be faster? Wouldn’t it have the opposite effect of speeding up time?

Derry returns, invading my hypothetical thoughts. “You’re so close it’s uncanny.”

I scrunch up my nose. “I’m not used to people hearing my ideas until I’ve worked it all out. Kind of like you peeking in my underwear drawer. I tried Molly out as a sounding board once. No dice.”

He cringes, running his fingers through his unruly bronze waves. “Sorry.”

My phone vibrates. I take it out and turn it off before it can start again. Time isn’t on our side, especially my portion of that side. “If you can manipulate time, do it now. The cavalry are on their way.”

“I sometimes get a glance into the future while sleeping. There’s no bending.”

“Okay, equally cool. Limitations?”

She sighs, exuding her Rose and Ozone scent. “Instead of everyone being fluid, they’re frozen.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Ice sculptures.” She sees a stationary future. Snapshots. She has to make assumptions based on still pictures. “Along with what was happening, you’d have to figure out when it was happening and in what order.”

“Precisely. I only have my eyes to guide me. It’s difficult to get it right.”

“You saw me?”

“Mostly with Derry. What and who you are took time to understand.”

“What was I doing when you sussed it out?”

“Irrelevant.”

That response is suspect. Poking around to get more out of her, I feel her chill. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to press her.

“When is much more interesting,” Derry redirects.

“I dreamt of you before I met Derry. It’s how I met him six hundred years ago.”

“Did you always dream of Derry and me together?”

“No, I dreamt of you first. Then Derry. Then the others.”

“You seem disturbingly cool for someone waiting so long for something. What are you waiting for, specifically?”

“This moment. This meeting.”

“What’s happening after they get here?” I whisper, unsure the Keanes will receive the information as well as me. Actually, I’m ninety-nine percent sure they’ll receive it epically poorly.

She wrings her hands. “What I saw needs to change, and I don’t know if it can. My internal conflict has blocked me from seeing anything past this. That’s why I’ve been sleeping so much. I’ve been trying to get a handle on what comes from this.”

“Were you responsible for what’s happened so far?”

“Yes and no,” she hedges. “I brought us together, but not before we found Barry. He’s been key in making this all possible. If the Tribunal found him, they’d destroy him. The unknown is what they fear most. I can’t say I blame them. I get how frustrating it is, how scary the uncertainty is.”

“Were you responsible for bringing back Declan after he drifted off into space?”

“Kiley took care of that.”

“Then what happened to Tally?” She hasn’t described her transition to me, and I’ve been patient in waiting for her to recount her story, but it makes sense they were around for her transition.

“We only stopped her family from what they tried to do to her,” she says sadly. “They thought she was sick. The rest she’ll need to tell you. It’s not my place to share that.”

They knew about the Keanes, about me, and they matched every step taken in parallel. They waited until this moment to step from the shadows, and I’m the reason. It was right after I helped Connor, though Derry tried to connect with me prior to that.

“I texted you, knowing you’d seek out Brody,” he fills in the gaps. “I wasn’t happy to push you to them, but it was necessary. You needed to see what you could do, and I was afraid if you didn’t meet Connor at his worst point, you wouldn’t feel the urgency to help him.”

“Before the block,” she adds, “I saw you helping those like us, reducing the craving.”

“Not everything you’ve seen has happened yet?”

“Not everything.”

“If I can reduce the craving, can I help you overcome the addiction?”

“Not that I’ve seen, but calming the craving is the first step. You’ve joined two sides of a silent war. Those pledging allegiance to our creators will have to choose which side to fight for. You’ll bring peace before the war ensues.”

I blow out a giant breath. “How am I doing that, exactly?”

“By showing both sides we can depend on each other. You’re a beacon of hope, Sheyla. You’ll show them there’s no reason for fear. You’ll help us coexist amicably.”

“Whoa.” I hold up my hands. “I’m one person, and this has been going on for eons and eons.”

“I was converted close to a thousand years ago,” she admits. “I knew what I was choosing by allowing my conversion to take place. In all that time, others have made the same choice as you—freely giving what you have to offer—but they didn’t have your gift. They couldn’t stop the transfer and suffered a horrible fate. You’re the only one who can stop the drain.”

“How is that helping?”

“It gives them hope, and hope gives them the courage to continue trying. You can teach them control.”

“I can barely control myself.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Derry scolds, snaking his hand along my waist. Seems the reverse of a punishment. Perhaps I should aim to misbehave.

“I do want to help. I just don’t think I’m a very bright beacon.”

“That’s because the light is still within you, waiting to shine.” He draws me to him. “You’re our light. You’re their light. You’re everyone’s light.”

“Gee, how did I ever get so lucky?” I say sourly.

“You’re not the lucky one,” Melanie volleys. “It’s us.”

“Who converted you, Melanie?” I have a pretty good idea, being the Keanes were directly tied to everything else, but having her confirm it seems necessary.

“Ryan.” Her forlorn frown puts his to shame.

Why is that a source of sadness for her? Ryan mentioned his transition and hers by proxy. He loved her. He loves her. Won’t their reunion be a happy one?

“I’m so terribly sorry for being unable to share this with him, but maintaining silence was the only way things would work out.” She paces back and forth between her easels. “He won’t understand why I had to do things this way.”

Tally will be resistant. Her head is as hard as Barry’s dancing pecs. Declan will come around quicker. He’s spent so much time waiting for Kiley he won’t waste any more without her. Ryan, however, will be an easy fix.

“Tally will be the toughest to convince. Ryan will be confused but so happy to have you back in his life he won’t turn you away.”

“I can’t see him yet,” she says sharply.

A distinct sense of panic shoots across the room, nailing me square in the chest. I cover my heart with my hand. “Why?”

“The last thing I saw…I can’t...”

“Derry?” I intervene.

“Ryan won’t close the line off to refuse her his energy. Until we can be sure you can train restraint, and they can live together...”

“You’ll drain him dry. What you saw, when he came here to get me and saw you, you ended him.”

“I can’t. You can’t let me do that,” she pleads.

“We didn’t know you were Sumairs. Kiley and Declan, Barry and Tally, were they ever in danger?”

“No, Barry hides the light, which is the trigger.”

“Well, Ryan will just need to cut the cord,” I declare emphatically. “Simple as that.”

“He won’t,” Derry claims. “Would you if you were in his place?”

“No, I guess not. Where are Barry and Kiley?”

“Explaining things to Brody,” she says carefully. “He’s the only one they trust.”

“Derry, do you trust me?”

“How could I not trust you?” He points to his head. “Direct connection, remember?”

“No, I mean in your heart. Do you trust me? Do you truly believe I’m the light?”

His brow furrows. He takes one hand, covering mine over his heart. Reacting to my touch, it thuds against my palm. “Sweetheart, you’re every bit of sunshine I ever care to see. I’ve spent the last six hundred years hearing how you’ll bring light to the darkness. I can’t doubt anything you say.”

I won’t let her hurt him, I project to him. She can’t keep herself from him. We need him on our side in this. She’s the only way that will happen.

I rest my cheek against his chest while he rubs slow circles on my back. The whole mind-reading thing is proving to be very convenient.

A car floors it into the driveway. We’ve run out of time.

I’ll tell you when.

He nods.

“It’ll be okay,” I promise them. It will be. Probably.

The pounding on the door happens mere milliseconds later, and I run downstairs to meet them before they barge through it.