As soon as the yurt came into view, Scaredy and Old Man walked from side to side on the boat, peering over the edge, as if choosing their jump-off point.

I motioned for Brodie to cut the motor. He looked confused but did as I asked.

Old Man and Scaredy turned to look at my scowling face.

“You shouldn’t jump out when the motor is going.” Since I was reasonably sure that they didn’t have a word for motor, I pointed. “It can hurt you. It’s dangerous.”

Old Man glanced at Brodie, then tapped his head with his fingertips. That sign I’d seen often enough, I thought I understood it. They knew, or they understood—they were aware.

Brodie whispered, “Are they—”

Conrad cut him off: “Quiet.”

Brodie shut up.

“You can stay and help,” I said. “I’d be grateful.”

Old Man pointed to me, then nodded toward the yurt.

“Yes,” I said.

He got a strange look on his face. As bizarre as it sounds, it reminded me of Darius Vasil, though I couldn’t immediately say why. One edge of his mouth quirked up, and he angled his head so he could consider me out of the corner of his eye.

“You won’t go inside?” I asked.

I don’t know why I said it. I already knew the answer, and Old Man was too wise to waste his time. He slipped into the water while Scaredy stayed behind to tell me no.

“Why not?” I asked.

Scaredy pointed to the yurt, made the sign for human, then another sign that I didn’t recognize. At least it wasn’t the sign for danger. That was a relief.

Then he was gone too, and I was left to puzzle over how they got out of motorboats without hurting themselves, what Old Man had in common with Darius Vasil—aside from, you know, age—and whether the lurkers avoided all buildings or merely the ones that I was lucky enough to blunder into.

They didn’t make the sign for buildings. They made the sign for human.

I started fidgeting with my fingers.

Brodie kept his voice low when he asked, “Were they signing to her?”

“Yes,” Conrad said. “You might want to start learning it.”

“Does the Torr know about this?”

“I think it’s more of a swamp thing, rather than a Torr thing. And you seem more like a swamp person, than a Torr person.”

“Do they understand English?”

“Not really.”

“But then—”

“Brodie, was I right about you being more of a swamp person than a Torr person?”

Brodie considered for a second, then said with a touch of defiance, “Yes.”

“This is a Torr thing, so before you ask any more questions, I have one for you—how deep do you want to go?”

Brodie Kohler paused again, then turned and fired up the motor without a word. Kappa crawled into my lap and fidgeted with my fingers for me.

When we arrived at the yurt, Brodie and Conrad helped me out of the boat. Kappa helped himself out by taking a flying leap that must have cleared six feet of distance.

That was probably how the lurkers got out of boats without hurting themselves. At least that was one mystery solved. It might not have been the important one, but, darn it, it was something.

I’d thrown my waders over my arm, leaving my hand free to rub my face in a world-weary manner.

Brodie glanced at me as he and Conrad took their places on either side of the boat, preparing to ground it. “You better go inside, Emerra. It’s not a good idea to stand around in a swamp barefoot.”

“I’ll bet you did it as a child,” I said.

“It wasn’t a good idea then either. You should be able to go right in. Ayla’s usually here by now.”

Ah.

Yes.

Ayla Davids.

Her.

I wondered if it was too late to strip off all my clothes and slink into the swamp like one of the lurkers.

Then it hit me like a mini-bolt of lightning—that look Old Man gave me! That smirk! That head-turn, side-eye! That was the same look that Count Vasil would give me.

“I’m not laughing. Think of it as wry amusement.”

The idea that Old Man might have found something “wryly amusing” made me squirm. He couldn’t know how I felt about Ayla…

Could he?

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I muttered.

I called for Kappa as I walked over to the yurt.

This time Kappa hung back until I went inside, rather than hopping past me to sniff around.

Ayla was at her laptop when we came in.

“Brodie?” she said as she turned to look.

When she saw it was me, her expression changed. The difference was so slight, I could have easily put it down to prejudice if I’d been less grumpy. But I was grumpy, so I read as much into the microscopic difference as I could.

The generous heap of her self-assurance slid behind a cool-faced mask. She knew where she stood with Brodie. With me she was more cautious.

And what did she see when she looked at me?

Waders over my arm, my backpack hanging off my elbow, teeth unbrushed, filthy clothes, stomach growling, Kappa hovering around my muddy feet, and I couldn’t be bothered to hide my expression—it was written across my face in all caps: CRANKY.

A delicate flower of perfect delight. That’s what I was.

“Go on,” I said. “Ask me how my day’s going.”

A half-second too late, Ayla laughed. It floated out from that cool-faced mask of hers.

“And good morning to you,” she said. Her voice was as sweet as it had been when she’d introduced herself to Conrad. “How about I ask if you’d like some coffee instead?”

I grudgingly admitted to myself that was a better question. “Yes, please.”

She went over to one of the cupboards and pulled out a gas-powered backpacking stove. With her back still to me, she said, “Is Conrad with you?”

I chided myself for my subconscious bristling. I thought you weren’t going to get in the way, Emerra.

I said, “He and Brodie should be here any second.”

“Do you think he’d like some coffee too?”

“I’m sure he would.”

She motioned to the camp chairs. “You can have a seat if you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

Since I had a reasonably comfortable chair and a minute to relax in, I put on my socks and waders. It made me feel frumpish (especially around Ayla), and it felt icky putting my socks on over my dirty feet, but at least Brodie wouldn’t be able to lecture me about swamp safety.

Then I collapsed back into the chair. Kappa crawled into my lap and lifted my arms to wrap them around himself. He kept an eye on Ayla as she lit the stove.

He must have remembered her trying to take his blood.

Considering the mood I was in, I didn’t think it’d be wise for me to talk, and Ayla worked in silence, so it was easy to hear Conrad and Brodie coming up the stairs. There was a slight strain of nervousness in Brodie’s voice, but he was trying hard to be casual. That was impressive, considering that the first time he’d run into the wolfman was only two days ago. I smiled to myself and mentally chalked up a few brownie points beside his name.

When the door opened, Ayla called out, “Good morning! Conrad, do you want some coffee?”

Why bother asking me if you were going to ask him yourself?

I chomped down on both my lips. I was definitely too grumpy to participate in civilized conversation.

“Please,” Conrad said.

“It’s instant. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Coffee’s coffee.”

Ayla looked up and gave him one of her charming smiles. “I couldn’t agree more.”

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.

“How do you take yours?” she asked.

I sensed a childish desire to answer for him, to prove that I could, but I satisfied myself by lowering my head and mouthing along as he answered.

“One sugar, one cream.”

Ayla said, “Emerra, how do you take yours?”

I was in such a funk that at first I didn’t realize she was talking to me.

“Half sugar,” Conrad said.

Ayla’s perfect brow creased. “You mean a half pack of sugar?”

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“No,” Conrad said, “you fill the mug halfway with sugar, then add coffee.”

Ayla glanced at me, but I was too busy grinning up at Conrad to respond. I may not have been attracted to him, but I sure loved that wolf-boy.

“I don’t think we have that much sugar,” Ayla said.

“Three or four sugars is fine,” I assured her.

She brought me my mug, then went back for the last two.

As she handed Conrad his coffee, she said, “It looks like you’ve already had an adventure this morning.”

Conrad took his mug and nodded to thank her, but he didn’t answer.

That surprised me. It’s true that I usually answered for the group—Conrad is shy, and the speed of dumb is a thousand times faster than a thoughtful answer—but I tried not to answer when someone was talking directly to Conrad. And there was zero doubt Ayla had been talking to him. She’d been only about a foot away and looking right into his eyes. It seemed odd that he’d ignore a comment like that.

I broke the lull by saying, “It’s more like we were finishing one.”

Brodie turned to the group while stirring the coffee he’d made himself. “The—I found them out in the swamp. They spent the night there.”

I’d heard the tiny gulp of sound when he swallowed back whatever he was going to say, but if he hesitated, it was for less than a nano-second. Brodie Kohler thought fast.

Ayla turned from Brodie back to Conrad. “On purpose?”

I wasn’t in the mood to let her know that we’d gotten lost. Besides, there were other things I wanted to talk about.

“Ayla,” I said, “is there magic in the swamp?”

If changing the topic had been my goal, then I had crushed it. She and Brodie stared at me, eyes wide with shock. Brodie also looked concerned, but Ayla’s face showed disbelief and amusement.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

I double checked to make sure. You never knew with me. “Yes?”

She let out a huff of laughter. “I thought you knew.”

Behind her Brodie said in a quiet voice, “So did I.”

Oh, boy. I needed a lot more coffee before we started playing games like that. I sipped the stuff Ayla had handed me and made a face. She’d used two sugars. There was a whole box of the stuff, and she’d used two sugars. I decided not to take it personally—but I wasn’t going to put up with it either.

“Kappa,” I muttered.

He hummed to show he was listening.

“Can you please get me two of those little white packages?” I pointed to the box of prepackaged sugar sitting on the counter beside the instant coffee.

He jumped off my lap without bothering to answer.

I looked up at Ayla. “I hate to disillusion you, but we didn’t come into this situation well informed. If there’s something obvious that you think we should know, go ahead and assume that we’re ignorant. We won’t be insulted. I promise.”

Ayla looked at Conrad. Maybe she was hoping he’d assure her that he wasn’t as clueless as I was. All he did was sip his coffee and watch.

“Okay.” Ayla leaned on the table behind her. “Yes, there’s magic in Sauvage Preserve. It’s a natural pooling area. Several tav lines get tangled together, and for some reason, the magic never gets dispersed.” She waved her hand around. “Something about the geography.”

Kappa returned and handed me three packets of sugar. Obviously we still needed to work on his counting, but I wasn’t going to correct such a convenient mistake.

“Thank you, buddy,” I said.

He crawled into my lap and sat back down while I lifted the sugars so they’d be out of his way. When he was settled, I ripped them open and dumped them in my mug.

“Tav lines?” I said as I shoved the empty packages in my pocket.

Ayla pressed her lips together and stared at a point near the ceiling. You could almost see her manually lowering her expectations.

I had warned her.

Eventually, she said, “They’re lines where the natural magic gathers enough to flow. You’re not a magician, are you?”

“I’m not,” I said.

Brodie said, “Does that mean that they sent you out here without any kind of protection?”

That man had all my attention in an instant.

“What do you mean, ‘protection?’” I demanded.

He reached into his shirt and pulled out a necklace.

You’d think that a magical amulet would at least be a little fancy, but, no. The pendant he was holding up looked like a slightly thicker version of a military dog tag with a line of runes etched into it. I couldn’t see any magic around it, but I hadn’t seen whatever was in the cabin that had kept the mist at bay either.

“Everyone that comes here regularly is supposed to have one,” he said. “Me. Ayla. Vance.” Brodie dropped the necklace so it fell on the outside of his shirt. “And we have some kind of protection on the yurt.”

“It’s a light veil,” Ayla said. “It allows our computers to work—that’s all.”

“You don’t sound concerned,” Conrad said.

Ayla shared a sympathetic, knowing smile with the wolfman. “You’ll have to forgive Brodie. Like he told you last time, he’s barely an initiate. He has a lot to learn.”

Brodie’s cheeks went red, and he looked away.

Ayla continued, “But you’d understand. It’s bureaucratic nonsense—one more rule in a whole pile of rules they force on you if you want to work here. It makes them feel in control.”

My nerves curled up in an uncomfortable, low-level cringe. I took a long sip of coffee to buy myself time while they unfurled.

Few people would understand better than Conrad. The amount of paperwork required for him to go for a walk called for the sacrifice of an entire tree. If Ayla resented the Torr for all the rules she had to obey to do her job—and, judging from her tone, she did—how much more would Conrad resent them for all the rules he had to obey just because he existed?

“Yes,” Ayla said, “the levels of magic are higher than average, but on the edges of the preserve, it’s barely above average, and even in the center of the preserve, it’s only problematic if you have prolonged exposure.”

The center of the preserve? You mean that place where Conrad had started acting weird—jerking to a stop, staring off at nothing, getting a snort of me and Kappa to remember what we smelled like?

We’d spent the night out there.

“When you say ‘prolonged periods of time,’” I said, “are we talking about a couple of hours?”

“We’re talking years,” Ayla said. “A sensitive individual might start to feel worn down after two years. To cure them, all you have to do is take them away from the concentrated magic. They recover in about a week.”

I let out my breath and felt my shoulders relax. Conrad wasn’t about to die of acute magic poisoning. If that was a thing.

But something Ayla had said tickled the back of my brain.

“…start to feel worn down…”

“Olene,” I muttered.

“Excuse me?”

I looked up at Ayla. “What about Olene Durand? She’s the motel manager. She’s lived on the edge of the preserve her whole life.”

Ayla shook her head. “The magic doesn’t reach out that far. Anyway, I know Olene. She’s just like that.”

My brow furrowed. “But—”

“Look, Fort Rive wouldn’t exist if the swamp was dangerous. People don’t build their homes where they aren’t comfortable.”

A drop of temper dripped into my stomach and started spreading through my body like ink diffusing in water. The caffeine and sugar must have worn off. I took a swig of coffee before diving back into the fray.

“What about the lurkers?” I said. “They live in the middle of the swamp.”

A slow smile—and not a nice one—spread over Ayla’s face. “Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t know anything.”

My cheeks flushed, but I kept my eyes fixed on her as I took a much longer drink of coffee.

She let out what sounded like a self-conscious laugh. “I’m sorry. That probably sounded rude.”

It was rude, I thought. And the moment I thought it, deep in my gut, I knew, without a doubt, that she’d meant it to be.

I marveled at how she’d managed to pitch that laugh of hers so perfectly. She must have put at least ten thousand hours of practice into her acting, and it had paid off.

“I thought you would have known,” she said, “since you work with him.”

When she motioned to Kappa, he stuck his tongue out at her. He’d learned that from me. I couldn’t have been prouder.

“Lurkers have perfect resistance to undirected magic,” Ayla explained, “and damn good resistance to directed magic. They could live here for a thousand years and never feel the effects. That’s why they chose this place.”

Brodie studied the floor as he spoke. “You think that’s why they chose this place.”

Ayla frowned at him, but he didn’t look up. By the time she turned to me and Conrad, her smile was back.

“He’s right,” she said. “I’m still trying to figure out how to prove it, but my theory is that the lurkers’ original world had pockets of high ambient magic, and they evolved to live in them. When you have that kind of magic swirling around you, you can learn to use it, or you can become resistant to it, and they took the resistance route. That would give them access to areas and resources that other creatures would avoid, thus lowering the competition.”

“What do you mean, ‘their original world?’” I asked.

“The lurkers aren’t from here. In this case, that’s what the ‘innaturalis’ in Innaturalis P. vigiles means—”

“They’re from outer space?”

Brodie chuckled. When Ayla and I looked at him, he smiled at me.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just—I’m so glad I wasn’t the only one.” He put an open hand to his chest, then held it out, motioning to me. “That was my exact reaction.”

Ayla interrupted our moment of camaraderie by saying, “They come from a different dimension.”

“Can the lurkers use magic?” Conrad asked.

“No,” Ayla said. “That’s a side effect of their resistance.”

“Then how did they get here?”

“No one knows.”

I chased down my next stray thought. “And you think that they…want to live in Sauvage Preserve because of the extra magic?”

“It’s their perfect environment,” Ayla said.

“Because other creatures avoid the extra magic?”

“Yes.”

I pointed to the door and the swamp beyond it. “There are a lot of creatures out in that swamp.”

She gave me a pitying smile. What a range this woman had with her smiles!

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I should’ve been clearer. I was talking about theoretical supernatural creatures from their own world. Most creatures on Earth don’t interact with magic. There isn’t enough of it to make a difference. They wouldn’t sense it or think to avoid it.”

I wanted to fidget. When my hands were motionless, my thoughts felt blocky and hard to shape, but between the mug and holding Kappa in my lap, both my hands were busy. My thoughts had to sit around, being all…there. Unconnected. Unwieldy.

The lurkers were resistant to magic. The lurkers couldn’t use magic.

Then why did the lurkers have a magic lamp? And why would it be so important to them?

I finished the last of my coffee, put the mug on the floor, stood up, and passed Kappa to Conrad. Kappa crawled up to Conrad’s shoulders while I reached for my bag.

I pulled out my sketchbook. “Can I get you two to look at something for me?”

“Of course,” Ayla said.

She and Brodie came closer. Before holding it out, I looked up at Ayla’s face. The chance that my magical eyes might decide to power up and do something useful was small, but if it happened, I didn't want to miss it.

I should’ve known. Even when my eyes were trying to be helpful, they did it in the least helpful way possible.

The moment I held up the sketch, I saw a mask, as fine and dead as unpainted porcelain, cover every lovely feature on Ayla’s face. It looked like she was both familiar and comfortable with it. A ceramic smile. Blank eyes. I would never see behind it.

“You know what this is,” I said.

Ayla looked up at me through the mask and shook her head. “No.”

“You’ve seen it before,” I insisted.

“I’m afraid not.” Her voice was casual.

I was so frustrated, I wanted to spit and hiss like an enraged cat. But what could I say! I know you’re hiding something—my secret magical eyes told me so?

Brodie leaned closer. “What is it?”

“This is the reason the lurkers are going into Fort Rive,” I said. “They’re looking for this.”

The smile on Ayla’s mask widened. “Did they say it belonged to them?”

“Conrad,” I said, “could you get a map?”

Conrad went over to the counter at the edge of the yurt to retrieve the map. Ayla shut her laptop and moved it aside so we could gather around the nearest table.

Conrad laid out the map and pointed to the Forbidden Zone. “Have either of you been there?” he asked. “Or seen anyone in there?”

“Vance has probably been there,” Ayla said. “He’s been everywhere.”

“What about you? Have you ever been there?”

“No.”

Conrad’s eyes shifted. “Brodie?”

Brodie stared at the map, frowning.

“Brodie?” Conrad repeated.

He raised his head. “I don’t know if I’ve been to that exact area, but I think I’ve been close. It’s easy to get lost in that part of the swamp. I may have wandered through and not known it.”

“Did you see the lamp?”

“That thing was a lamp?” Brodie turned to me.

I put my sketchbook on the table. “That’s what we’re calling it.” I pointed to my drawing. “There’s a flame that burns from the high point, there.”

“Do you mean that it burns continuously?”

My stomach tightened. It was time for my first bold-faced lie of the day. “From the way the lurkers described it, yes.”

I really needed to get used to spewing falsehoods.

Maybe Ayla could sell me one of her spare masks.

I told myself to stop being catty and focus.

Brodie looked back down at the sketch. “So it’s magical?”

“We think so.”

Conrad said, “Have you seen it?”

Brodie straightened up and stepped away from the table. “No. I’m sorry. I haven’t.”

Conrad and I exchanged glances. Kappa, who was still perched on Conrad’s shoulders, tugged on the wolfman’s ear.

“Hungry,” he said.

My stomach reverberated with a sympathy as deep and empty as a void.

“Me too, little buddy. We should get going.” I picked up a nearby pen and flipped to a new page in my sketch book. To Brodie and Ayla, I said, “Do you mind if I get your phone numbers so we can call you if we have any more questions?”

“I don’t mind,” Brodie said.

I wrote down their phone numbers while Conrad returned the map to the counter.

As I was closing my sketchbook, Brodie said, “Would you like a ride home?”

Ayla started to say, “Brodie, I’m not sure—” but I stamped down on her comment with a loud, emphatic, “Please!”

Brodie, Conrad, and Kappa left to unground the boat. I gathered up my stuff and put my sketchbook away while avoiding looking at Ayla. I’d dealt with her enough that morning.

Ayla said, “That thing you say the lurkers are looking for—”

I noticed her careful use of the phrase “you say,” but tried to ignore it. I tried to ignore her in general, but she wouldn’t stop talking.

“—it’s probably not important.”

My head snapped up. “You’re not a magician, are you?”

The mask was still in place, so I couldn’t see her reaction, but it took a second for her to respond.

“No.”

“Then how would you know if it’s important or not?” I said.

“The Torr would have told us about it.”

“The Torr doesn’t know everything!”

“No magician would’ve trusted the lurkers with something important!”

I clenched my teeth and shook my head. After throwing my pack over my shoulder, I turned toward the door. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Emerra—”

I’d thanked her for the coffee! Any reasonable person would’ve known to let the conversation die there, but I was past the end of my patience and she was still pushing. I could no longer hold back my rudeness.

I stopped and whirled to face her. “You know what, Ayla? I don’t care what you have to say! What you think doesn’t matter to me! It’s what the lurkers think that matters, and they think that lamp is important. So here we are.” I flourished both arms wide, turned around, threw open the door, and slammed it behind me as I left.

It made a nice, loud crack that startled the birds.

I stood at the top of the steps and took a huge lungful of Ayla-free air, then hopped down the steps and walked over to the waiting boat.