Inside my room, LoVor fidgets as they take a seat across from me at the little coffee table and chair set in the corner. I'm quiet, trying to be patient as I wait for them to be ready to talk.

"Um, I'm Vos, by the way. Not sure if you knew or not—"

"I just knew you by your last name. Um, nice to meet you? You can call me Ash."

"Right. So, the thing is, a spirit's been talking to me through the shells that doesn't sound like the usual one. And, er...it keeps trying to bribe me to, like, kidnap you somehow and shove you through the Gate. " They say the last several words in a rush, their eyes downcast.

"Did it sound like a woman? Did it give you a name?"

Their brows knit momentarily. "Yes to the first question, no to the second."

"Hm. Alright, then. Thanks for letting me know."

"You're not bothered by that? You don't have questions?"

I think for a moment. "You aren't planning on actually taking her up on the offer, are you?"

Vos puts up their hands defensively, shaking their head. "No, no. Of course not."

Though I don't smell the metallic taint of lies in their blood, a small frown tugs at my lips.

"But why is she trying to bribe you in particular, I wonder?" My eyes search theirs, their expression blank with bemusement. "Or maybe you're one of many..."

They shift in their seat again, picking at their fingernails.

"Well, as to that, I...I lost someone. Through one of the Gates, at another school. She's saying she has her. That she'll give her back if I..." they falter. "In exchange. And she...she let me talk to her. Or someone who sounds just like her."

"Of course. Well, I appreciate you not doing it," I say, standing in preparation to show them out.

"Wait."

I turn to look back down at them to find that their face has gone pale, eyes wide and watery.

"Is it really true? People who don't make it through the Gates live on somewhere else?"

Pity twists my insides as I consider their question, and I drop back down into my seat.

"As far as I know, it's true. But I'm not positive, and it's not so easy to just get them back." For a moment I consider telling them everything I've been told about the Gates and the other side—but I know I should consult E.J. about that first. I reach out to grasp their hand, their need for comfort too tangible to ignore.

But then I smell and sense Beatrice, and I bolt upright. Even now, Lore's scent clings to her—though I can tell the Crimson isn't with her. I'm already reaching out to open the door when the knock comes.

"Hey, Ash—oh, hello in there, Vos, is it?"

"Yes, that's right," says Vos, eyes darting around anxiously.

"Well, you're invited too, then,"

"Huh?"

Beatrice's gaze returns to mine as she edges past me into the room.

"My sleep-over. I'm doing one tonight. Drinking, some ghostleaf, snacks, aethercasts—it should be fine, since tomorrow's an independent study day. Unless you have an early guidance meeting?"

They shake their head.

"Excellent," beams Beatrice, turning back to me. "So Ash, if you want to come, that'll be you, me, Vos, Lore, and Timur. He's the Petran you were grouped up with in Physiology and Dynamics. I have another class with him and we got to talking. He's really nice." Her eyes search mine, a slight frown twisting her lips as she registers my hesitation. "What is it, Ash?"

"I'm sorry, Bee. I'm just—I'm not very comfortable around Lore. Things are kind of...really weird between us."

Beatrice scrunches her nose. "I know. And I know it's probably why you've been avoiding me, too. But she's one of my best friends, Ash. She's important to me. I'd love it so much if you could get along, and I know she's intense. I do. But she grew up in weird circumstances, and doesn't have a lot of experience with people outside of Otherside stuff. I swear, once you spend more time around her—"

The tremble in her voice and the tightening around her eyes is what gets me. I wave my hands in the air between us as if that'll fend off the tears threatening at the corners of her eyes.

"Alright, it's ok. I'll go. But I reserve the right to leave at any time."

She perks up a bit, but there's still hesitation there.

"Only if you're really sure," she hedges, sniffing slightly.

"I'm sure," I sigh.

"Wait," pipes up the other Reaper. "Don't you need more time to process what I told you? Why aren't you concerned? And how do you know that about people who go through the Gate?"

"Honestly, Vos, it's a long story...that's the least of my worries right now. I kind of just need to let myself not care for a bit."

But as they join Beatrice in heading out to the hall, I turn to Boon.

"Let E.J. know what she's up to now."

~*~

I recognize a lot of the pillows and blankets scattered around Beatrice's room. Smiling slightly, I can't help but wonder whether E.J. had been party to the pilfering of her textile goods, or if she'd gone home from teaching classes to a suddenly and mysteriously barren apartment.

I'm a few steps into the room when Mittens sticks her head out of her carrying bag, sniffing the air briefly before hopping out and bounding off to the nearest cushion pile. Though she's out on the balcony, Lore's scent is dense—and I'm glad I had the foresight to eat several of E.J.'s blood berries before showing up.

Bee's also put Edric to extra work, if the collection of fanciful snacks and appetizers is any indication. As I stand before her improvised bar table trying to identify the overwhelming collection of bottles—many of which have labels in languages I can't read—the host sidles up to me.

"This is a good one," says Bee as she leans forward to pluck up a rose-colored bottle, giving me a side-hug with her free arm. Vos lounges on the cushions behind us, scratching Mittens between the ears and talking to her as though she's a dignified lady and not a tiny rabbit-fox.

Pouring a measure of the drink into a crystal glass that's also suspiciously familiar, Beatrice hands it to me. "There you are."

Just as I'm going to take my first sip, the fragrance of ghostleaf drifts in from the balcony. Behind me, Vos pipes up.

"Oh, are they—"

"Yes," enthuses Beatrice. "Let's go join them. I grew this myself. Can't wait to see what everyone thinks."

I side-eye her. "Grew it as in..."

"Yes, as in from myself," she huffs. "But apparently, it's my specialty. I got the hang of it fast. Just this one strain, though." Outside, Lore coughs heartily. Timur's deep laugh follows shortly after.

"Oh yeah? Let's see you take a bigger hit," challenges Lore, but there's laughter in her voice, too.

When I still seem hesitant, Beatrice loops her arm through mine and starts steering me outside.

"It's safe and good," she insists. "If you don't believe me, just watch these two."

Outside, the air is warm and heavy. The rain has eased to a light patter, but dark towers of clouds still hang overhead, heavy with the promise of more to come. Lore lounges back in her hover chair as though it's a velvet chaise. She waves lazily as I step out, but I avert my eyes—looking instead over at Timur as he readies the water pipe and brings it to his lips. He flicks his lighter, holding it to the bowl as he inhales slowly. Finally the water stops bubbling and he jerks backward, chest heaving violently with every cough. The others laugh as his face turns blue—but within moments an air of lucid euphoria settles over him.

He offers it up to me next. I hesitate, flashing a look over to Beatrice before accepting it. "If this give me brain damage, I'm suing you," I warn, but she just grins.

I take about a third the hit the Petran did, but I get a good hearty cough out of it. It starts to set in quickly, making me feel whimsical and floaty and even kind of social.

Finally I try a taste of my drink. Bee was right, of course. It's amazing. Some sort of decadent strawberry-mint cordial.

After taking a hit herself, Beatrice looks around at the rest of us, face flushed. "I think we're all buzzed enough for sleep-over games now. What do you think, Lore?"

"I thought we were adults."

"Oh, psh. Shut up," Beatrice jokes, batting at her lightly before settling back with a finger pressed to her cheek and a thoughtful look in her eye. "How about Truth Trade, is that adult enough for you?"

"Oh, alright. That one hits me right in the nostalgia."

"Right?" Beatrices grins, lifting her glass and downing the rest before leaning forward. "Alright. Let's see...Timur. What do rocks taste like?"

He blinks. "Depends on the rock. Granite's bland and kind of dry, tastes kinda how it tasted before I became a Petran and licked a rock."

"Wait," cuts in Lore. "You used to lick rocks?"

Timur clears his throat. "Anyway, though, there are some types that taste really good. Gemstones are the best, but we don't get a lot of those, obviously. Ruby tastes kind of like pomegranate. And opal," He leans back, closing his eyes and groaning a bit at the thought. "Opal's got all kinds of flavors that just burst on your tongue one after the other."

"Ooh," says Beatrice, hands wandering to the water pipe. As her hit's bubbling, I feel Vos's eyes on me and twist my head a bit to look at them.

'"I...I have a question for Ash."

But Beatrice puts up a finger, holding off further discourse until she exhales in a sudden fit of coughing.

"Before you can—" she breaks off, coughing some more. "Before you can ask a question, I owe Timur an answer to something."

"Oh, right," grunts the Petran. "Hmph, let's see. Uh...what's it feel like, absorbing sunlight and photosynthesizing?"

"Amazing," she breathes. "Probably how you'd imagine absorbing light through your skin would feel. Like every particle of my body is lighting up and warming just the perfect amount, filling me with energy. It's kind of tingly, too."

"That sounds nice," says Timur.

I look to Vos, then, expectant.

"So..." they swallow, gaze flicking around at the others briefly as they hesitate. "Do you know exactly how to bring someone back through the Gate? What do you have to do?"

"That's technically two questions," says Beatrice.

"I...I don't think I can answer that right now," I say, my mood taking an immediate nose dive at the look on Vos's face.

"That's alright," Bee says. "That just means they don't owe you any answers."

I nod. "Sorry, Vos."

They stare at their hands, silent.

Then I hear Lore lean forward. "I have a question for Ash, too," she says, and I can feel her gaze boring into me. Finally I look over to meet her eyes.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'd like to know what I looked like to you, in the Liminal."

My mouth drops open slightly, but I'm just working up the nerve to answer her when feint lavender lightning flickers in the clouds.

"Suppose it's a good thing I didn't invite any Shifters," says Beatrice quietly as we all gaze out at the sky and the lightning intensifies.

There's an odd sort of tingling sensation in my flesh and bones, and all my tiny hairs raise on end. For a moment, I expect an echoing crackle of violet light across my skin. But when I look down, instead of Umbral lightning, it's a thick layer of moon-pale fur sprouting across my arms.