As I passed behind Luke's, I glance at the brand-new dumpster and tried to imagine what the people inside the bar were doing.

Don’t you mean sticks?

It was true. I was trying to wrap my head around what the sticks were doing, and it was as though… as though I wasn't one of them.

You’re not. Not anymore.

I wasn't a stick. I was something… else. A half-witch.

Shaking my head, I absently thought about Ted, wondered how he was, wondered how his day was going.

“Has to be going better than my day,” I muttered.

“And mine,” Silvy whispered into my ear. I jumped, having completely forgotten she was wrapped around my neck, and shook my head.

“Can you read my thoughts?” I asked.

“No,” Silvy purred. “I can read your emotions, though. I can read your feelings, but not your thoughts. Thankfully. I bet you have the silliest thoughts. I bet you think about things like rainbows. Unicorns. Tricycles.”

“Tricycles?” I asked.

“Yeah. Tricycles. You heard me. Tricycles are a menace.”

“What do you know about tricycles? I thought you said you were 578 years old.”

“I am,” Silvy said with a faint hint of annoyance.

“So, tricycles?” I asked. “They wouldn't have been invented when you were alive, right?”

“I’m not dead, dummy, and you don't think there are tricycles in the Shadow Vaile? There are. So many…”

I had zero idea whether she was telling me the truth. The very idea that tricycles existed in the Shadow Vaile with such number that they were considered a menace seemed bizarre, but then again, I didn't know. I didn’t know so much about anything.

As I made my way past the last dumpster, turned to my right to stare at where I remembered the chalked clock being on the wall.

Only it wasn't there.

“Where did it go?” I asked.

“What it what go?” Silvy asked. “The wall? It's right in front of you. How can you not see it? It's huge!”

“No. There was a clock.”

“Are you okay? A clock mounted to an alley wall? That seems kind of ridiculous.”

“More ridiculous than tricycles in the Shadow Vaile?”

“Hey, tricycles in the Shadow Vaile are a real thing. Don't knock it till you see it.”

I opened my mouth to retort but pushed Silvy's distraction away.

“It was right here,” I mumbled to myself. I bent down and squinted, convinced I just wasn't looking properly.

“Yeah. All I see is a used condom wrapper and a bunch of broken glass. Speaking of, where did the condom go? Did they take it with them?”

I sighed. Where is the clock? It has to be here.

I put my hand on the wall and Silvy moaned. “Oh, gross. Don't touch me until you wash that hand.”

It has to be here. I know I saw it.

Looking to the left and to the right, I verified that I was in the right place. I was. There was no doubt. The chalk clock should've been drawn onto the wall at ankle level.

I had a sinking realization.

What if this is just the beginning? What if when Lebec kicked me out of the magick world, all entrances disappeared as well? Even entrances that I know about. What about that strange shed in the middle of the empty lot where Lebec first instructed me to go?

I took a deep breath and sighed it out. My mind continued to spin in tighter and tighter circles of paranoia and catastrophe.

If I break into the theatre, can I break open the door that leads to the secret lab at the back of Blackhart? What will that do, though? Blackhart is destroyed. It’s gone.

I took in another deep breath and sighed.

Everything is gone.

I took in another deep breath and this time, I didn't sigh.

I screamed.

I screamed straight up into the sky. I screamed at Lebec. At Flin. At Geist. Bristlebloom. The Austerium. The Night Market. Blackhart. My dad. Grey Eyes. Silvy.

I punched the wall as hard as I could, feeling the knuckles in my hand crack.

“Fuck!” I hissed.

“Hexana?” Someone called from up the alleyway. Ted's voice. Great. Just what I needed. Ted walked over and stared at me as though he was in shock.

“I guess you heard all that?” I asked.

“Yeah. What's going on?”

I shook my head. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I shouldn't have been in that alley; I shouldn't have been in that position at all.

“How are you?” I asked instead of answering him. I thought I was changing the subject, thought I was putting the attention onto Ted, but he just stared at me.

“Hexana,” he said in a wary voice, tiptoeing to select his words. “You were just screaming at the sky. I watched you punch a wall. Are you okay?”

“No,” I snapped. “No, Ted, I'm not okay. I am extremely far from okay.” Ted took a step back, but I wasn’t finished. “And you know what else?”

“Tell him,” Silvy hissed. “Tell him good.”

“I can't even talk about it,” I said, “because if I talk about it, you'll think I'm crazy. If I tell you, you'll have me committed. And guess what?”

Ted held his hands up. “It's okay. You can tell me.”

“Yeah,” Silvy said. “Tell him!”

“If I tell you and you believe me, you’re going get X’ed out.”

“X is gonna to give it to you,” Silvy cackled.

“What?” Ted asked. “What do you mean X’ed out?”

“Killed. Assassinated. That's what I mean. That's how screwed up my situation is right now.”

Ted just stared at me. “I don't understand. Did you get into some trouble?”

I let out an ugly laugh and snorted. “Trouble? You have no idea the sort of trouble I'm in, or out of depending on how you look at it. Seeing as I'm not in it anymore.”

“In what?” Ted asked. “I want to help, but I don't know how. I don't know what's wrong. I don’t understand what's happening here.”

“And you never will,” I snapped.

Ted’s face shifted to shock, then relaxed into a look of wounded hurt. I didn’t blame him, as I didn't care about anything outside of lashing out. I was so tired of not being able to talk about things, of not being able to tell anyone what I was going through and having to hide myself from others.

“Tell him,” Silvy said.

“And you,” I snapped, looking at the cat who sat on my shoulder. Her eyes glowed at me as her fur shifting from blue to black to green and back. “You shut up. I've had about enough of you.”

“Wow,” Silvy purred. “This is going to go over really well with Ted. You realize it looks like you're talking to your shoulder, right?”

“I don't care what it looks like,” I said. “I'm sick of you talking shit about everything. Just shut up for five seconds.”

“Or?” Silvy asked.

“Or…” I didn't know what, I didn't know how to get back at the familiar. I didn't know magick, I didn't know what to do. I stared her. “Or I'll kill myself.”

Silvy's eyes, forever wide, suddenly narrowed. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Feel me. Feel my feelings. What do you think? Wouldn’t I?”

Silvy's eyes narrowed even more and then they grew wide. “Oh,” she said.

“Yeah. Oh. Exactly.” I turned back to look at Ted who stared at me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

Once my attention was on him, he slowly started stepping backwards, back towards the safety of Luke's.

“Yeah, go ahead,” I screamed. “Go back to Luke’s. Go back to that stupid ass bar.” I waved my hand at him, dismissing him as though he was a peasant. “Get out of my sight.”

Ted, shaking his head, turned and ran.

“Hah,” Silvy said from my shoulder. “I didn't think he would actually run.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Neither did I.”

“He’s got a nice ass though.”

“Silvy.”

“What? He does. Look at it.”

I was looking right at it. I closed my eyes and shook my head before turning back to the wall and trying to will that chalk clock back into existence. When I opened my eyes, I was confronted with the same sight. Alleyway. Rain. Empty wall. Used condom wrapper. Glass.

I shivered. “Fuck.”

“So,” Silvy said, “what now?”

I stared at the blank wall, trying to wrap my head around what I wanted to do next, where I was going to go.

“I don't know,” I said. “I think…”

As I chewed on my lip, I started walking. The rain poured down and I realized what I must've looked like to Ted. Standing out there in a humid Nightsbridge thunderstorm wearing a parka, eyeliner running down my face.

I would've looked at myself exactly the way he’d looked at me. I would've run away just like he had.

I exited the alleyway and headed up the street. I had an idea that was an extremely far off hope: the probability the place I was heading toward would actually be open was slim to none. The place operated at strange hours, hours that didn't make a whole lot of sense.

I made my way up the street and stopped in front of an antique shop. I read the hours and reached for the knob, convinced that even though the hours were correct, even though the sign at the front of the store said that it was open, that the door would be locked, that I would be barred from entering, that I could stand off to the side and watch a million people enter and exit and every time, as soon as I touched the knob, it wouldn't open.

Relax. Take a breath and relax.

I twisted the knob, and the knob turned.

“Halfway there,” I whispered.

“Kick that shit in,” Silvy said from my shoulder. “Look at all that glass. Imagine the sound. Imagine the sights.”

Ignoring this, I leaned against the door. It hung there for a second, stuck, and my heart lurched up into my throat. But then the door creaked and unstuck, fully opening.

I stepped into Mr. Carson's antique shop. The stick version.

Mr. Carson looked up from behind the counter where the cash register sat. He raised a single eyebrow and gave me a bland look, a look of familiarity, but also one of unfamiliarity.