Rachel slept at the sheriff's station. There was a cot in the office where she imagined Jackie must have slept several times. She slept on top, trying to disturb it as little as possible. Preston stayed on station all night, in case any tempers were still flaring up, but the night was quiet. A few panicked reports related to the helicopters flying over town came in, and a vague call from Rika's friend Zack about a possible threat to any meeting they might hold the next day.

  Rachel didn't know about any meetings going on, since she certainly hadn't called any, so she dismissed it in her exhausted state as nothing—just the anxious opinion of a scared high schooler. Rallsburg was collectively holding its breath, watching and waiting for the next explosion.

  Ryan texted her while she was interrogating Robert. The helicopter had come back for Will after dropping off Morton and Brittany, and he'd been safely whisked away to the hospital in Olympia. She wouldn't need to worry about him for the time being. Rachel could focus on the problem at hand. She could feel the answer hovering around her just out of sight, like a shadow flitting by the corner of her eye. There was a solution, she could sense it, but there was some missing element she didn't yet understand. Rachel needed the last missing piece of the puzzle.

  She emerged from Jackie's office expecting to see the sheriff herself—but found instead a bleary-eyed Natalie, facing down an impatient Mason Rhistler. The girl was standing next to Gwen and had her hand on the wolf's shoulder, holding it back. Mason was eyeing them both nervously, but at the sight of Rachel he relaxed. "Natalie wouldn't let me in," he explained, clearly irritated.

  "No one unless she says okay," Natalie replied adamantly. She glanced at Rachel after saying it, looking for approval.

  Rachel nodded. "Thank you, Natalie."

  In all honesty, she'd probably have been fine with Mason visiting, but finally getting a full night's rest was rejuvenating. Even with her ritual, her body still needed time off, and with the stress she'd been under, her mind needed a break too. As a bonus, it let Natalie feel important and useful. The girl nodded before turning back to her wolf and scratching its ears affectionately.

  Rachel looked to Mason. "What's happening?"

  "There's a meeting soon," he replied, and Rachel's heart sank. Zack's warning had been legitimate after all.

  "No," Rachel said firmly.

  "No?"

  "Omega already knows. He'll attack the meeting."

  "He can't attack it if he can't find it. We're going to hold the meeting inside the Market, with the entrances closed off. Professor Laushire has agreed to host."

  "Who says he can't find it?" Rachel asked skeptically.

  "I do. Dimensional pockets are inviolable to trace or detection, by their nature as external planes. Will and I tested this extensively with the bags as well as the entrance by the riverbed, both with and without Professor Laushire's knowledge. Connections and divinations break at the edge of the field. If she closes all the entrances after we enter, there should be no way to locate us or reach us."

  "You do remember you're analyzing a branch of magic you've never used, right?" Rachel pointed out. "There's still a lot of guessing going on here."

  "Do you have a better idea?" Mason asked, irritated again. He hated it whenever someone doubted him. "Eat something. The meeting's in an hour." He took a small paper bag from the front desk and tossed it to her.

  Natalie intercepted it out of midair before Rachel could even react. The bag flew to her hands where she opened it carefully, as if it might explode.

  "Doughnuts!" she cried gleefully. She took one before sending the bag back to Rachel.

  "They're from Dan. He wanted to apologize for the town hall," Mason continued. "Also, Ryan said you could get in touch with Cinza. The rest of us can't, and she should probably be involved in this. Can you get her to come?"

  Rachel was already munching through the first doughnut. She nodded.

  "I'll see you there then."

  "Where are you going?" Rachel asked.

  "To talk to Bryan," Mason replied.

  Rachel did a double-take, before remembering it wasn't the same Brian she was thinking of. "Does he know that you're awakened?" she asked, trying to sound sympathetic. It came off much colder than she'd hoped.

  He shifted uncomfortably. "He wasn't happy about it, but he's been trying to accept it. We haven't been doing great."

  "I'm sorry."

  "It's not your fault. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Bryan's just stubborn. He'll come around. I don't even know why I'm going to talk to him right now. It probably won't do anything." Mason was looking down at the ground. "I wish I hadn't kept it secret."

  "Is there anything I can do?"

  Mason shrugged. "Distract me?"

  Rachel had a sudden burst of inspiration. "You called a meeting, right? With the usual method?"

  The 'usual method' being an anonymous mailing list, which any member could visit and see the date and time without having to identify themselves or provide personal information. Rachel had established the list (with Will's assistance) after she'd been elected, and it had been accepted largely without complaint. The council members were the only ones who could post a meeting. Only Cinza had raised any objections, mostly over particulars of the site's technical security and anonymity. Rachel's perfect memory helped her report Cinza's exact complaints for Will to fix. Otherwise, she doubted she could have remembered the surprisingly technical jargon Cinza had used.

  However, the list was limited in scope to only those who knew of it. Until the Emergence, that had been more than enough.

  Mason nodded. "Obviously. What else would I use?"

  "There's another awakened who needs to be at this meeting. Someone not on the list. I need you to go get her."

----------------------------------------

  The hour passed fitfully. Rachel called Cinza on the phone she'd been given, and Cinza promised to attend. In the meantime, Rachel tried to relax. She'd had more near-death experiences in the last twenty-four hours than she cared to have in a lifetime. There was a shaking, uneven quality to every breath she took. Anxiety filled her to the marrow. She'd faced down gods and men alike and emerged unscathed, even as so many around her had been wounded and maimed—or worse. When was her luck going to run dry?

  What if I die today?

  Rachel needed to talk. She needed to lay out her fears and worries to help her mind process—but who could she talk to? There was Preston, sleeping in the back of the station after a long night. There was Natalie, playing a game on her phone while resting against the belly of her wolf. And there was Beverly, the invisible wraith haunting her every step. Even now, Rachel noticed the leaves of the plant next to the bench bending just slightly at an abnormal angle. It was her, sitting patiently and watching Rachel's every move.

  Rachel went back into Jackie's office and shut the door. She pulled out her phone and dialed the only person she could think of.

  After only one ring, she got someone she absolutely did not expect. "Hello?"

  "Rachel?" It was Rowan Rhistler. "Were you trying to make a call?"

  "Yes. How did I end up on your line?"

  "I changed the lines to run through my office before any made it out of town. Will gave me a little control panel website thing before he…"

  "I understand," she interrupted. "Can you put my call through?"

  "...Okay." There was a click, and then the phone was ringing again. It took much, much longer this time, but finally she picked up.

  "Hello?"

  Rachel cleared her throat. Her heart was suddenly pounding. "Hi, Mom."

  "Rachel?" Her mother's voice was muffled and scratchy. She'd never owned a particularly good phone for actual calls, preferring flashy over functional. Rachel had owned the same, until she'd found herself making so many phone calls she simply couldn't stand it anymore. "Is something wrong?"

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  Rachel's eyes welled up. She spoke with her mother so infrequently that Andrea DuValle assumed immediately something must be wrong if her daughter was calling. "I just needed to hear your voice."

  "...What's the matter? You sound like you're crying. Or is that just the phone?"

  Rachel had lied too often lately. She refused to deceive her own mother as well. "It's not the phone. Something happened. Will got hurt. Badly." She was stumbling over her words. "They had to fly him out to Olympia."

  "Oh God… Rachel, I can be there tomorrow. If you need me."

  "No, I don't want to take you away from the set."

  "I'm only in four episodes this season, and it's an emergency. I can ask them to reschedule my scenes. We don't air for months anyway."

  She's lying… She'd lose the part if she did that. No one would reschedule for her. Rachel took a deep breath. She hadn't wanted to tell her yet, but it was bound to come out sooner or later. "Mom, you can't come here. The town's kinda been blocked off."

  "Blocked off?"

  "The roads and the trains are all out. That's why they had to fly Will out. There's no way into town."

  "That's crazy. Are they doing anything to fix it?"

  "Well, we're a little busy. No one in town can really get it done."

  "What about the state? Aren't the roads theirs?"

  "We're so unimportant, I doubt they even know about it yet."

  "What, they haven't called for help or anything?"

  "No, Mom. We can't. We have to stay secret."

  "...You lost me."

  "Mom, there's going to be some stuff in the news soon. Stuff about our town. Things you aren't going to believe. I'll probably be in a lot of it." Rachel cleared her throat again. "You might want to get out of town for a while. Maybe go by another name too."

  "Rachel, what are you talking about?"

  "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," Rachel said bitterly.

  "Try me."

  "...I'm going to call you on video, okay?"

  "Okay."

  Rachel set the phone on Jackie's desk, propped up by some folders and a coaster so that it faced her. Her mother appeared on screen. Andrea DuValle wasn't quite as tall as her daughter, but she shared the same long brown hair, though currently in a dirty blonde, and the same thin willowy build. At thirty-nine, she had long since left the peak age of an actress—at least in the eyes of Hollywood. She made her living on the small screen, taking whatever parts came to her up in Vancouver. Her eyes were full with concern and confusion for her daughter.

  "Oh Rachel…" she murmured on seeing Rachel's face.

  Rachel looked at the tiny box for herself in the corner. She hadn't realized how much her makeup had been screwed up—but to be fair, she'd been a little preoccupied. She dabbed at her face a bit, trying to look more presentable. She only barely managed to hold back the grief looming in the corners of her mind.

  "Mom, this is going to sound crazy, but here goes: Magic is real, it's only in Rallsburg, I'm kind of in charge, and there's an insane guy who thinks he's a god that's trying to kill us all."

  "You… you what?"

  Rachel lifted her hand, which held a little scrap of blank paper. With a bit of effort, she sent it levitating over her palm, in clear view of the phone camera. Her mother's mouth fell open. After a few moments, Rachel lit it on fire and let it burn into nothingness in midair. "Magic, mom. Real magic."

  Her mother didn't respond. She just stared blankly a little below the camera, where the screen on her side would be.

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I wasn't sure if it was safe, or what was going to happen, or anything. But now awful things are happening and I couldn't leave you in the dark anymore. Especially since it might spread."

  She finally found her voice again, stammering just a little. "I-isn't this stuff usually kept secret?"

  "There's not really a 'usually' to follow, Mom. It's all new to us. We've got the Internet, and phones with cameras on them everywhere. I think it's inevitable it's going to get out."

  "Is this why Will got hurt?"

  "...Yeah." Rachel looked down, not bearing to meet her mother's eyes.

  "Why aren't you leaving, then?" Her mother's voice was slightly unhinged. "If it's so dangerous there, come home."

  "Even if I could, Mom, I wouldn't. I have to help. They elected me to lead. I can't just abandon them."

  "They didn't elect you to die though, right?"

  "I've stayed alive so far," Rachel said. She tried inject some levity, but her mother wasn't amused.

  "Can't we call someone?"

  "We aren't ready to be out in the world, Mom."

  "Better out than dead!"

  Rachel shook her head. "We have to show them we can take care of our problems, so they see us as allies and not as a threat. They'd lock us all up somewhere if they thought we were really dangerous."

  Her mother looked really terrified. "So what do we do?"

  "You need to lay low," Rachel said firmly. "When this all breaks, my name is going to be top of the list, and people will come after you too. Think about the worst press outing you've ever had, multiply it by a thousand."

  "I can handle the press," she replied flippantly.

  "What about the people who are gonna want to try to use you to get to me?" Rachel continued. "I have people to protect me. You're alone." She hated scaring her mother like this, but it might be the only way for her to take things seriously. "I can send money if you need it."

  "I'm okay. I'm single and I'm still getting child support from your father. I have enough to stay comfortable for a while."

  "I hope it won't be too long."

  There was a knock at the door. She heard Natalie's voice. "Rachel, that crazy girl is here."

  What girl? Rachel wondered. "Just a minute!"

  The door opened. Natalie apparently wasn't one for privacy. Rachel stood up from the chair suddenly. The girl poked her head around. "Should I let her in?"

  "No, give me just a secon—"

  "Who are you talking to?"

  "Rachel, it's me," Rika called out. Rachel sighed.

  Her mother had perked up at the sound. "Is that Rika?"

  "Yes," Rachel answered, irritated. "Natalie, send her in and then shut the door, please." Rika limped in on command. Natalie shot them all a curious, somewhat irritated look at being left out before letting the door slam closed.

  "I've been looking all over fucking town for you, Rachel," Rika grumbled as she limped over to the desk. "Where were you?"

  "Hello to you too, Rika," her mother's voice echoed out from the desk.

  "What the— Andrea?"

  "Yes… oh my God, what happened to you?"

  "Long story." Rika forced a smile. "I missed you."

  "I was in the middle of something here," Rachel cut in, annoyed.

  Rika glared at her. "Well, tough shit. We have business."

  "Does Rika know?" Andrea asked.

  "She knows?" asked Rika incredulously.

  Rachel sighed. "Yes, Rika knows, but if she hadn't that'd be a terrible way to ask, Mom."

  "Sorry!"

  "Look, I have to go. I don't have any time left. Can you call Dad and tell him to get out of town too?"

  "You want me to call Eric?"

  "Just do it, Andrea," Rika snapped. "We really don't have time to fuck around."

  "Rika—" she started in a warning tone.

  "Please, Mom," Rachel interrupted.

  "...Okay."

  "I'll email you as soon as I can. Leave your phone and stay off social media."

  "Leave my phone?"

  "With the shit that's gonna go down, no one's gonna care about warrants. Or that you're not even in the U.S." Rika added. Rachel felt a burst of gratitude toward Rika for her instant support, in spite of everything. "They can just pop your GPS on from anywhere and find you. Only log onto your email from free wifi spots, and only on the laptop I got you. The old one I fixed up. It's probably still in the living room cabinet."

  "...Okay," she repeated firmly. "Thanks, Rika." She looked Rachel in the eye as best she could, despite the awkwardness of the video call. "I love you, Rachel. I'll see you soon. Take care of yourself."

  "I will. I love you too, Mom."

  Rachel reached forward reluctantly and tapped her phone. It shut off. Immediately, Rachel collapsed back into the chair, feeling like she'd just surfaced from being underwater for hours in the middle of the ocean. She was relieved, but still exhausted and in pain—and without any dry land yet in sight.

  "So that happened," Rika commented, sitting down on the corner of the desk and looking at her oddly.

  "Just get it over with," Rachel sighed. "Tell me how stupid and dangerous that was."

  Rika shook her head. "It wasn't. Your mom's smart, and shit's gonna hit the fan one way or another. It's good you're getting them out of the way before it really blows up. There's been three fucking helicopters in town since last night. I'm surprised we're not getting swarmed already."

  "I don't suppose you want to call and warn your dad?" Rachel asked, smiling slightly.

  Rika laughed. "What, and give him a head start? Hell, if the government wants to track him down that just saves me the effort. Doubt they will though. I'm nobody in this story. You're the big oyabun, you're gonna have everyone on your ass."

  "Wait, you said three helicopters? What was the third?"

  "Well, there were two that had ambulance colors. I'm guessing those were yours." Rachel nodded. "Right, so you don't know about the black military one that swung around south. Fucking impossible to see in the moonlight. I only saw it 'cause it turned around and came back to town a few times. Looked like it was changing its mind or something."

  "Viper, maybe?" Rachel wondered aloud.

  She shrugged. "Know anyone else around here with military hardware?"

  Rachel shook her head. "Thanks for letting me know."

  "Not actually why I came here. I had something else to tell you. You remember how there's a few people who all seem to be way more powerful than the rest of us? Kendra and Hector and Natalie?"

  "Yes."

  "There's two more. Hailey Winscombe and her roommate Jessica. They've both got it too. I think if you get them on board, you could beat him."

  Rachel nodded. She'd already known about Hailey, but the roommate was new to her. She didn't want Rika to feel useless though. "Thank you."

  "Roommate's dumb though. I mean literally. She can't talk, and can't understand anything we're saying either. Hailey's gonna ask you to help fix her. I've never seen anything like it, so you're on your own there."

  "Okay." A tiny whisper of movement in the corner reminded Rachel that her conversation hadn't been private, even before Rika had burst in. She had to ensure that her ever-present sentinel didn't turn on her in a dire moment—and Rika might be able to provide her a solution. "Rika, can you do me a favor?"

  Rika raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious right now?"

  "It's not hard." Rachel turned on the sheriff's computer and logged in, having watched the sheriff's keystrokes at least once before. After only a few minutes, she'd pulled up her email. "I just need you to show me how to set this up."

  Rika ambled over behind her and leaned in close. Rachel quickly typed out a message. How can I set up a delayed email to send if I can't get to it?

  To her relief, Rika didn't ask questions. She took over on the mouse and delved through several menus rapidly, bringing up an email scheduler. It took a couple minutes, but Rachel had everything set up before she sensed any movement from the corner where Beverly sat.

  "So what was that about?" Rika asked. Again to Rachel's relief, Rika hadn't read the message she'd composed. She didn't want such leverage in the hands of someone as volatile as Rika. Even if they were friends, Rachel wasn't insane.

  "Just in case this all goes wrong." Rachel glanced at her watch. It was almost time. She'd have to leave soon if she wanted to reach the nearest door to the Market on time. "Are you coming to this meeting?"

  "You guys have more important things to do than deal with my drama," Rika replied brusquely. "You don't want me there."

  Rachel's heart sank a little, but it was true enough—Rika would probably only make discussion more difficult. She didn't argue the point. "Walk with me at least?"

  Rika hesitated, glancing around the room a bit and biting her lip. Finally, she nodded. She walked outside, but Rachel paused. Fear was building up in her chest as she spoke. What if she just attacks me anyway? What will I do then?

  She addressed the empty room. "If I can't get to a computer within a week, Alden gets an email and a text." There was no response, but to Rachel's keen senses, Beverly was still in the room. Rachel nodded with satisfaction.

  Now she had some protection.