How do you Know?
Like breathing, I thought.
You just have to do it.
Blindly, I reached out—and teleported.
Darkness enveloped me. All senses fled. There was no cold in this darkness, no heat. There was no sound or smell, not even the feel of Leon in my arms or the thud of his heart against me. The universe contracted into pinpoints. As the void expanded and seconds elapsed, I had the sudden, terrible thought that we would be trapped forever in some formless in-between, a black hole that offered no escape. Or that we would reappear under the earth. Our lungs would fill up with soil. Roots would twine all around us, crunching our bones.
And then the dark receded. Then there was daylight: warm sun above, half-hidden by the motion of heavy gray clouds. There was grass beneath us, short spikes that jutted up through my open fingers as I groped toward the ground, feeling it solid and safe under my hands.
With one arm still curled around Leon, I felt for his pulse, and then looked about, trying to make sense of our surroundings. A young girl, no more than three or four, stood a short distance away, plucking dandelions out of the grass. Her mouth dropped open when she saw us. She gave a little squeak, letting her bouquet fall from her hands, and went galloping away. Beyond, I saw the beginnings of a sandy path that led toward a beach. Red picnic tables were clustered nearby, paint peeling here and there, revealing the scuffed wood underneath. Far away I could see the glint of sunlight on cars and the dark tar of a parking lot.
Warner Lake. Leon had brought me here before. He came here to think, he’d said, because his parents had been fond of the area. Later, he’d told me this was where they’d been married—down on the beach, near the water, at the end of one scorching summer after they’d been dating three weeks. Since my own parents had been together something like six years without ever marrying, I’d found that funny. Now, I wasn’t certain if it was some inner compass of Leon’s that had directed us here, or if I’d done it myself—I was just glad we’d survived. Gradually, my panic began to ease.
“Leon,” I said again, stroking his hair. His eyelids flickered, but he didn’t wake. He murmured something, not quite a word. I felt dampness on my face and realized I was crying. I took long breaths, trying to slow the slamming of my heart. I could still taste the tang of blood in my mouth. I thought for an instant that the scene we’d fled had somehow followed us—some trace of the atmosphere, maybe, or Sonja’s body, drawn back up from Beneath—and then realized that I’d bitten the inside of my lip. My hands were trembling as I pulled out my phone. It took three tries before I got it to dial.
First I called for an ambulance. Then I called my mother.
She answered on the second ring, her voice muffled and groggy from sleep.
My words came out in a rush, so tangled I wasn’t even certain what I was saying. “You need to warn the Guardians. You need to find Shane. He’s not neutral any more. He’s dangerous. He killed Sonja Reimes. He hurt Leon.”
Mom’s lethargy vanished. “Where are you? Are you okay? Is Leon okay?”
“We’re at Warner Lake. I don’t know. He’s breathing on his own, but he hasn’t woken up.” My voice came steadier now. Leon began to stir slightly, and his fingers grazed mine. A light drizzle had started, matting my hair against my head. Overhead, clouds hid the sun, turning the sky dismal and gray. The raindrops that spread across Leon’s clothing hung in the little curls of his hair.
“I’m coming to get you,” Mom said.
“You don’t have a car. It’s at Sonja’s. But you need to tell the Guardians about Shane.”
“Audrey,” Leon murmured.
“He’s awake,” I said into the phone. “I’ll call you back.”
Leon struggled to sit. He was clearly disoriented, but the relief I felt at seeing him awake made me cry again.
“How did we get here?” he asked, shifting in my arms and looking around.
I didn’t release my hold on him. “I’ll tell you later.” Wrapping both arms around him once more, I molded myself to him, pressing my face against his back. I felt the damp fabric of his shirt against my cheek, the warmth of his skin, the solid muscle beneath. I closed my eyes and breathed in the faint earthworm smell of the rain.
Though only the little girl had noticed our arrival, our presence didn’t go unnoticed when the ambulance arrived. We had a small crowd gathered around us as the EMTs tried to usher Leon into the vehicle. He insisted that he was fine and a trip to the emergency room wasn’t necessary, but since his speech was sluggish and he was still having trouble focusing, we eventually managed to coax him into the back of the ambulance. I sat beside him, gripping his hand, while I explained to the emergency workers that I hadn’t seen what had happened, and Leon claimed he couldn’t remember. I wasn’t certain whether that was true or not, but until we were alone, I had no way of asking.
Mom called several times and finally agreed to meet us at the hospital, where it was discovered that Leon had three cracked ribs and a concussion. He was released after a few tests, with instructions to return immediately if his condition worsened. Leon was impatient to leave. He’d called the bakery to let them know he’d been in a minor accident, and now that his confusion had faded, I could tell he was anxious for answers.
I wanted answers of my own. I couldn’t stop seeing Sonja being dragged Beneath, or the look in Shane’s eyes as he’d stepped toward us.
You are going to die, Kin-child.
The phrase stuck in my mind. Froze there, touching something familiar, half-forgotten. Words I had heard before, if only I could recall where. But the memory eluded me. It slithered away, leaving only the faint certainty that I was holding a puzzle with a missing piece.
Mom spent most of our time at the hospital—and the drive home—making calls. Her face was grim as she spoke into the phone, her body tense. Instead of depositing Leon at his own apartment, she brought him back to our house and made him lie on the couch.
Then she told us what she’d learned.
“Ryan checked the Drought and Deluge.”
“Alone?” I asked. Leader of the Guardians or not, I didn’t think Mr. Alvarez would be able to handle Shane. Leon had been injured in a matter of seconds—and Leon could teleport.
“I think he feels responsible,” Mom said. “He believed Shane was neutral. He trusted him.”
So had I, but I kept my silence.
“It doesn’t matter,” Mom continued. “The club was deserted. Ryan says the whole place was trashed. There wasn’t any trace of Shane.”
“You think he’s Beneath?”
“Likely. But we’ll have someone watching the club, in case.”
If he did resurface, I thought, mere surveillance wasn’t going to be much help. His voice whispered into me.
You are a corpse taking air.
I shuddered.
The news only got worse from there. The other two elders, Deirdre and Julia, were missing.
I shook my head, feeling strangely hollow. “They’re not missing. They’re dead.”
Mom frowned. “We don’t know that, honey.”
“They’re dead,” I repeated. “He killed them, and he took their bodies Beneath. We won’t find them.”
She dragged a hand through her hair. “I want you to stay here with Leon. You should be safe, but if you sense anything—anything—the two of you teleport first, and question it later. I need to go take care of a few things.”
“You have a plan?” I asked.
Her expression turned hard. “Simple. Find Shane. Kill him.”