The city cries like an animal in pain. It is its third straight day being battered by wind and rain. The streets flood, and the citizens huddle in their houses, praying for rescue. Little do they know their prayers have already been answered.

The siloxin is gone, swept up by the wind. The circle of compulsion under the city was similarly dispelled, along with the Obolom Collector that was woven into it. The process Hallon and Milo started was completed by the flooding. More—the weather is no longer locked in stagnation, although it will be chaotic for a long while yet.

The Hidden are in the Above, even though heated arguments spread like oil. All it will take is one spark to light a conflagration. If not for the rain that is. The storm keeps everyone indoors. It graces everyone with the time to settle.

Mary materializes next to Eratosthenes, and he makes room for her on his back. She sits with a weary sigh. The wounds on her face are still healing.

She taps her staff as she talks. “The General and his friends found a cache of pre-Accord devices under the Scholar’s House. There was a tower among them, and a group of shadows protecting it. The coven banished the shadows, and the General took care of the rest.” Mary swung her staff to demonstrate. “Smashed it properly too, to keep the devices out of the Army’s hands.”

Eratosthenes’s eyebrows lift. “Any sense for what this tower did?”

“None, but it was at the geographic center of the Obolom Collector. My sisters are investigating.” Mary clears her throat. “How were things at the Goat?”

“They have enough supplies for the time being. Milo is still grieving though.”

“That’s understandable,” Mary says. “His team was a family to him.”

“His air elemental won’t let me approach. She wants me to give him space. I tried to convince her I could help. I was even charming.”

Mary snorts. “However could she resist?”

Eratosthenes gestures to the places he’d been raked by the shadows. “Well, perhaps I was not at my finest.”

“None of us are, at the moment.”

He shakes his head, turning serious. “I know a thing or two about loss. I really can help.”

“As does Hallon. And likely Nima.”

“True.” Eratosthenes shakes his head. “I’m still amazed she was able to hide from me. From me. As an extra bit of flounce in Milo’s hair.”

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“Will wonders never cease?”

“You’re just being cynical,” Eratosthenes says.

“Never. If I had been, I’d never have joined you on this merry adventure.”

“As near as I can tell,” he says. “She was knocked free when Hallon and Milo entered this world. Must’ve taken a liking to him then.”

“There’s no need to overthink it,” Mary says. “Nima will come around.”

“You do realize I’m a dragon, right? By nature, we overthink.”

“There’s no need to rush,” Mary says. “Milo won’t be selfish. He’ll be your bridge. Just give him time.”

Eratosthenes nods at the truth in her words. “Hallon too will recover in time, and time I have aplenty. Being immortal has its advantages.”

Mary’s smile is wry. “I wouldn’t know. Not sure I’d want to.”

The dragon cocks his head. “You’re not tempted? I could show you.”

“And outlive my husband and son? I don’t think so.”

“I understand.” Eratosthenes sighs, his thoughts drifting. “The Goddess of Mercy said the same thing about Milo and Hallon. She counseled patience.”

“How nice the gods are helpful again.”

Eratosthenes glances back at Mary, concerned at the bitterness in her voice. “Lady Mercy is always helpful, whether we know it or not. The other gods are too, in their own ways. We just have to be careful what we pray for. Every prayer has the potential to start a journey; to create gates through which we must pass in order to find the prayer’s end.”

Mary continues to tap her staff, thinking. “Speaking of gods—”

“Yes?”

“Atu asked me to help with the land once the rain finishes pouring down. The fields around the city are flooding, and a famine will jeopardize the Hidden’s stay in No Town. Things are already tense. If the food situation worsens—”

“It’ll become bloody,” Eratosthenes says. “The Reform bloc is newly in power, and the wounds from the recent fighting are still open. There are those who’d take advantage of that instability.”

“How likely is it, do you think? A famine?”

“I’d bet on it,” Eratosthenes says.

Mary sighs. “Then that settles it. I’m staying to help. What kind of witch would I be if I left things half-finished?”

“But you need to rest,” Eratosthenes says, “and see your family.”

“No need to worry. I plan to spoil my family and be spoiled by them for a good long time, but I’ll prepare the soil and plant the spell seeds before I go. Then I’ll come back and keep a hopefully more sustainable schedule moving forward.”

“That would be wise,” Eratosthenes says.

“I think so too,” Mary says.

The two lapse into silence, watching the storm, each meditating on their own thoughts. Hallon and Milo are well, or at least on the way to wellness. The city around them is changing, as is the world. All it yet needs is the trigger—the beginning set into motion.

“Ah,” Mary says, perking up.

“I hear them too. Jawad and Reem have found our wandering Noor.” Eratosthenes takes a deep, steadying breath and reinforces his presence in the world. “Now, let me show you something fun.”