The basement wall was smooth, polished on every corner except one. The south wall, lower right corner, a few feet up. There was a flaw. A scratch. It was just barely big enough for me to get the spoon into.

My hands were stiff, my thin fingers trembling from the strain. But I didn’t rush. I couldn’t rush. If I went too fast, if I made a mistake, I could injure myself. And that could delay me.

I couldn’t be delayed.

I waited until my hands stopped trembling. Sitting there, in the pitch blackness, I felt my body. All its pains and aches pressing for attention. My stomach hurt. Hunger clutched at me. Water was delivered once a day, but food? That was anyone’s guess.

He hadn’t fed me for several days now. Two waters, no food.

It had taken a few weeks to realize the water came exactly once every twenty-four hours. I almost wish I hadn’t made the connection. It would have been easier to ignore how long I’d been here.

I would die in this basement if I didn’t do something.

After the first couple of weeks, I became certain of that. No one was coming. I had to find my own way out.

I didn’t know how much stone was in the way. I didn’t know how long it would take to scrape through. But I would. God in heaven, I would.

My fingers moved of their own accord, and the scrape of metal on stone filled the basement.

~<>~<>~

I jerked awake in the passenger seat, my heart hammering as the scent of stone and blood filled my nose. I couldn’t keep going like this; a man wasn’t meant to live without sunlight. I had to-

A warm hand closed around mine, and Blair‘s voice cut through the scraping in my ears. “Breathe, Alder. Breathe. You’re in the car, and we’re almost to the Portland airport. You’re OK.“

She repeated that until my heart slowed, and my breathing took a few steps back from hyperventilating.

I sat up in the van and looked around. We were in the airport parking lot. There wasn’t much of a crowd at this ungodly hour, and the asphalt was lit with the early fingers of dawn.

The others were looking at me with what I would call complicated expressions. Discomfort, concern. Thankfully, no pity.

I shook my head and rubbed a hand down my face. “Sorry. Bad dream.“

Simon shook his head. “Don’t apologize, and we don’t mind.“

Bobby chuckled. “Actually, I do mind. In fact, I think you’re a terrible person for having the nightmare.“ Laurel smacked him, and I laughed.

We piled out of the van. Blair was quiet, but her gaze never left me for long. The scent of metal and stone still filled my nose, and it took several minutes to vanish altogether. When it did, the werewolves relaxed. Odd.

Maybe they were sensing my emotions. I still wasn’t totally clear on how much they could tell. They were pretty good human lie detectors, as a whole, but just how much of a read they could get on someone from scent seemed to vary from werewolf to werewolf.

A plane rumbled overhead, and my stomach dropped. I had never flown personally, but I had memories attached to it. They weren’t pleasant.

However, one thing I was certain of from those memories was that I had never seen a smoother trip to the airport. Blair had everything planned out to a tee. We all had our passes loaded on phones and physical tickets, our bags were all carry-ons that she ensured would fit, and she led us through the airport like a bloodhound following a sent.

She’d probably studied a map of the place.

It was nice. I didn’t have to think nor worry about it, and I could see Blair relax ever so slightly as she guided us through. This was, in essence, a simple series of checks that she got to mark off: bags, security, filling water bottles, etc. It was a sort of ritual for her, practical meditation.

The Portland airport was a big room followed by a hallway, a big L, and one massive corridor. And I do mean massive. That corridor was home to most of the gates. While one giant hallway wasn’t the most stimulating architecture, I could see construction workers outside building a pretty impressive expansion.

In no time at all, we were sitting in front of our gate an hour before boarding.

It was a bit early, but I was not going to be the one to tell Blair that—Bobby was, much to her annoyance and Laurel’s amusement.

I started to nod off as I stared out at the tarmac. My side hurt—a lot of me still hurt, and I was a sleep-deprived as ever; my brief nap in the car only seemed to worsen that issue.

But as soon as my eyes fluttered shut, the darkness brought me back to that basement, to the spoon in my hand and the slowly growing hole in the wall. My heart rate spiked, and my eyes snapped open.

I didn’t move aside from that, but I saw Blair‘s eyes flick to me for a moment before turning back to Bobby. She didn’t say anything, letting me quietly regain my composure.

After a few seconds, I sighed and stood. “I’m gonna stretch my legs, I think, go explore this long hallway.”

Bobby stood and sauntered my way. “That sounds like a great idea. I quite enjoy walking in straight lines.“

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “I’m sure you do. It’s supposed to be very riveting.“

Blair opened her mouth, and Bobby waved at her. “We will be fine, Blair. This is an airport, and it’s literally a straight hallway. You can see us at the other end.“

Her jaw tensed for a moment, but then she nodded.

We started down the terminal, avoiding those little flat escalator things. I didn’t know what they were called, but the idea was to walk more, not less.

We explored the shops, looking at tourist traps and a whiskey store. I was uninterested in the stuff, but Bobby talked about it like a sommelier. “You’re a whiskey guy?“ He shook his head. “God, no, I don’t know the first thing about it. I just like to sound smart.“

I laughed, and we moved on. Bobby bought a sandwich that he wolfed—heh— down as we walked.

A man was playing a piano at the edge of the food court, an Elton John song I couldn’t remember the name of. He was pretty good, though I questioned his timing. There weren’t many people out and about this early. Maybe he was warming up.

Bobby took a deep breath before rubbing his chin, as if pondering a great mystery. “Airports have a certain soul to them. I find it interesting how varied they can be despite having the same essential purpose. Have big building so people can enter and exit big metal flying tube. Well, that and shipping things, but that’s not the point right now.“

I eyed Bobby. “I wouldn’t know. This is my first time flying.“ He whistled. “Impressive. First time flying and you’re gonna get the VIP treatment. I don’t know if a Northwood has ever flown in something that wasn’t First class.“

I hummed. That did sound about right. Blair didn’t flash cash or anything, but almost everything she wore was high quality, the same for the rest of the Pack. And…well, you didn’t have to try hard to gather a fortune if you lived for several thousand years, compound interest was a magic all its own.

I grabbed a coffee from an exhausted-looking barista who had dark circles around his eyes. He looked just as caffeinated and just as sleep deprived as I was.

“What were we talking about again?” Bobby asked as I took a long sip of the coffee. It certainly had coffee in it but was also packed with enough sugar and cream to count as dessert. Not my usual go too, but this wasn’t my usual coffee. I just had to make sure Blair didn’t catch me drinking it.

“I believe you were talking about the soul of airports.“

He snapped his fingers. “Yes! There are, of course, general similarities, such as their purpose. But some of them are such extravagant things, take the one in Norway. The thing was huge, full of stores and all sorts of crap, felt like I was in a mall.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Then there are other airports that…” He pursed his lips, as if carefully searching for the right words. “You know, that abandoned bus stop you see in the middle of the night, unsure if it’s had a single employee in the last decade, it feels like it’s been rundown longer than you’ve been alive, and there’s a uniquely bad smell to it that nowhere else can quite capture? It’s like that but with planes.“

I grunted at that oddly specific comparison. “The airport in Norway? I’m pretty sure there’s more than one.“

He nodded. “I am almost sure there are. But I can’t remember its name and I’ve only been to the one, so it’s just the Norway airport.“

I laughed and gently tapped my fingers against the wall as we passed. Solid, no cracks or weaknesses.

We reached the end of the hall, which almost felt abandoned in the darkness of early morning. No one was in the gates, not even a plane on the tarmac.

As we reached the last gate, I paused, a tingling sensation rippling down my spine. A familiar one.

I stopped, and so did Bobby. He took one look at my face and tensed. “Something wrong?“

I kept staring at the gate, at a row of seats in the corner overlooking the tarmac. “I don’t think we’re in danger. But I’m going to chat with that woman over there and see if she needs anything.”

Bobby blinked, following the direction of my gaze. “What wom- oh.”

His expression changed rapidly before settling into a grim frown. It was a little unnerving. He was usually so upbeat and easygoing that seeing a different expression felt unnatural.

I had noticed he seemed more tense around spirits than the others, which was fair considering how we met.

I walked up to the corner row and took a seat next to the ghost. The woman had died somewhere around her late forties or early fifties. She had very dark skin, wrinkled around her eyes in a way that hinted she was prone to smiling. Her hair was tucked away beneath a knitted cap, and she wore a heavy green coat and a thick skirt. She clutched a green purse between her hands, idly rubbing a silver wedding ring as she stared out at the early morning.

I steadied myself, taking a deep breath before I began to talk. “Hello, my name is Alder. What’s yours?“

She blinked at me and then smiled. “Oh, you can see me. Sometimes, they can’t; I feel invisible these days. My name is Darcy. I’m waiting for my family.“ Her expression fogged, her eyes growing distant as she slowly shook her head.

“Wait, no, that’s- that’s not right. I’m not looking for my family. I’m waiting for my plane. Going to go visit my family for Christmas!“ The confusion cleared from her eyes, and she grinned at me. As I suspected, those lines were indeed from smiling.

She had a warm, welcoming smile, the kind you associate with an open door and the smell of food. I tried my best to return the smile as my stomach slowly sank.

“I gotta say you’re just as crazy as I am, traveling just a few days before Christmas.”

It was still October.

I hummed, turning my gaze to the tarmac, slowly coming to life with workers.

Bobby slipped in, taking the seat beside me. Darcy looked at him and smiled. “You have quite the handsome friend there. You know I have a daughter around your age.“ I snickered. She hadn’t said that at the sight of my ugly mug.

I laughed. “I am sure she’s lovely, and he’d love to meet her.“

Bobby gave me some side eye but didn’t say anything. I could tell from the way he was moving that Darcy wasn’t visible to him.

“Is he shy?“ She asked, cocking her head. “He’s mute, I’m afraid. His brain works just fine, but his vocal cords don’t.“

A look of sympathy flashed across her face as she nodded. “I had an uncle with something similar. He died a few years back, bless his soul.“

She rubbed her hands together and shivered. “They always keep it so chilly in here. With this cold front we have rolling in, I don’t know how I’m going to make it. Especially in Chicago, it’s been years since I was there.“

I hesitated. There hadn’t been any cold fronts recently. But I didn’t think she had died recently.

“Yeah, the cold’s been tough, though I’m dreading the new year more. I can never get my brain to realize I need to write something different. 19…“ I trailed off, hoping she would finish for me. She did with an easy laugh. “Will be 1986 instead of 85. My husband always does the same thing.”

1985…I don’t think her daughter’s around our age anymore.

I hesitated before gently probing her. “Do you know how it happened?“

She hesitated, her eyes flicking from me to the tarmac and then back to me. “I-what do you mean? I just…“ Her eyes grew distant again. “ I was waiting for my plane. The snow storm… it delayed things. My husband and the kids- they got an earlier flight. But work forced me to wait a day. I was away…“

She shivered violently, and her breath began to fog. Cigarette smoke filled my lungs, mixing with a bitter chill and the faint scent of perfume. “So cold, so so cold. I had just… it was so crowded, and I needed some space. I had just stepped outside for a smoke and-“ Her eyes grew wide, and her breathing quickened.

“Did I trip?“ She looked at me, hopelessly lost and scared. “Did something happen?“

I took her hand in mine. She clutched at it like a lifeline. “I’m sorry, Darcy. You… died. I think the cold got you.“

She blinked at me, and then her entire form blinked. Her clothes fuzzed, and her skin shifted. Patches of it were suddenly stained, blood frozen from where it had run down her head. Her skin was cracked from the cold, and a mound of snow slowly slid off one shoulder.

Then it was gone, and she was perfectly hail and healthy and still translucent. The glassy look was gone from her eyes, but so was the recognition. “Hello, young man, my name is Darcy. You’re a bold one, traveling so close to Christmas. Though I suppose I’m in the same boat, aren’t I.“

I closed my eyes. “I can help you. If there’s anything you need done. A last request. I’d be happy to help you. To let you feel at peace.“

She continued to stare at me, uncomprehending. “What are you talking about, young man? I got plenty of requests but I think I can handle them just fine. It’s sweet that you want to help though.” Her grin was just as warm as before. “You remind me a little of my son William. You have a similar jaw.“

I felt Bobby’s shift uncomfortably. Maybe he was reacting to my emotions, or Darcy had made herself visible. I tried one last time: “What’s your last name, Darcy?“

“Mornington?“

Being subtle wasn’t going to work, her mind couldn’t grasp it. “You died. You slipped-“ She blinked at me several more times, and then her form flickered, that frozen corpse flashing for a heartbeat. And then she was back, smiling brightly. “Well, hello, young man, my name is Darcy. We’re two peas in a pod, eh? Crazy enough to be traveling this close to Christmas.“

I squeezed my eyes shut but didn’t pull my hand back. She hadn’t noticed she was holding it yet.

“I can help you move on. I know you aren’t all there anymore—I think your head injury has held onto you as you manifested; it’s screwing with you. But if you can understand enough, then take my hand with both of yours and I’ll help you move on.“

“ I don’t need any help moving on, young man; I’ve got a flight to catch soon. I appreciate the sentiment, though.“

While her tone was casual, her words a denial, both of her hands seized mine with crushing strength, her grip filled with a desperate, frantic need that clutched at me until I thought my bones would grind together.

I nodded. Then, I unveiled my aura.

~<>~<>~

Watching Alder work was disconcerting. One moment, he was joking around without a care in the world, and then he froze, a look on his face like someone stepped on his grave the dozenth time this week.

Dread wasn’t quite the emotion Bobby would label it. Grief, exhaustion, resignation, resolve? It wasn’t any of them either but an amalgamation of them all.

Bobby had known something was wrong the instant Alder stopped. But once he started staring at something that wasn’t there, Bobby realized exactly what was wrong.

He’d tensed and gotten ready to call Blair, but Alder calmly walked to the corner, sat down, and began speaking to the empty air.

He was calm and gentle, and it fascinated Bobby. Alder just walked over like it was the simplest thing in the world.

It wasn’t hard to see that the conversation didn’t go how he wanted. The man’s shoulders tensed, and then resignation shown in his eyes, while his smile didn’t falter.

“If you can take my hand—“the ghost became visible, a woman in her forties with dark skin, warm features, and hands that clutched at Alder’s with desperate strength.

She met Bobby’s eyes, and they positively sparkled, not a trace of the frantic grip she had on his friend showing through. “You know, my daughter would love you.”

Alder’s aura poured out of him in a wash of purple and green, enveloping the ghost in a heartbeat.

Alder didn’t usually smell like magic, not like mages did. His veil was too constant, too strong.

Now, the scent of hard rain and wet, old soil filled the air.

It took Bobby longer than it should have to realize that his friend's magic smelled like a graveyard.

The magic pulsed, the ghost's smile grew relieved, and she released her grip on his hands, laying a gentle touch on his cheek.

Then she vanished, her body fading like mist in the morning sun.

Alder turned to him, and Bobby fought back a flinch.

The man didn’t look like he was in his twenties in that moment. Not as his attention settled on Bobby, his face etched with exhaustion, and his eyes…his eyes looked ancient.

Then he shot Bobby a wry smile that was almost believable. “Make sure I wake up in time for the flight, yeah?”

Then he collapsed. Bobby caught him before he could bang into anything, gently laying him back into his seat.

Bobby stared at the man, the quiet of the airport no longer feeling so peaceful.

He took off his coat and laid it over Alder’s chest. “You are a crazy son of a bitch, and I mean that with the highest respect I can give.”

He pulled up his phone and sent a quick text. “We’re safe, with no physical injuries. Alder used his magic on a ghost. He’s out cold but unharmed.”

That would hit Blair like a cattle prod to the ass. She’d be over here in approximately five seconds. Hopefully, that wouldn’t include running at highway speeds, but there wasn’t much he could do about it if she did.

Bobby leaned back in his chair and stared at the empty tarmac. And as he did, the scent of fresh rain and wet soil began to shift, overtaken by the scent of cigarettes, lavender perfume, and blood.