Rowena woke, but kept her eyes closed. A tiny grin played upon her face; her dream had been long, and pleasant. Usually, she only saw her mother during the night, but this dream had been even better– her mother, holding Tommie, surrounded by an ethereal and glowing—

Horrifying images came crashing back to her in a flurry, and Rowena sat up with a gasp. Her left side felt like one giant bruise, tender and exposed, and her head throbbed, but she ignored her physical problems as she looked around frantically, desperate for some proof that her memories were wrong.

To her surprise, Mattie and Sorel were in the tiny bedroom room with her. Sorel was sleeping heavily at her desk in the corner while Mattie slept on a chair squeezed between Rowena’s bed and the outer wall, her hands surrounding Rowena’s left hand, her head nodding with her shallow breathing.

Rowena snatched her hand back and held it to her chest, giving it a rub as she winced with the movement. The motion woke the dozing Mattie, who blinked, bleary eyed, and shook her head awake.

“Dear Ro,” Mattie began gently, pulling back to give Rowena a little space.

“Is it true?” Rowena’s voice creaked with the effort of getting the words out.

“Here, have some water,” Mattie pulled a waterskin from the floor below– they must have removed the bedside table to make room for the chair she was sitting in. “It’ll help with the headache, too. You have a headache, don’t you?”

Rowena didn’t want to drink water, she wanted answers, but her body grabbed for the skin eagerly. The moment the fresh liquid hit her mouth, she was like a woman possessed, and drank every drop. “How did you know I have a headache?” she gasped.

Mattie looked at her, head cocked slightly. She spoke quietly, but confidently. “It would make sense. You’ve been asleep for over a day.”

“A day?” Rowena whispered in horror, then covered her face with her hand. “Mattie, is it–”

Mattie reached out and put a hand on Rowena’s right shoulder and gave it a firm, comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry, Rowena. It’s true. Tommie is– he died, that night. I was going to wait to let your father tell you, but he only just–”

She was interrupted by the gasping sobs that began wracking Rowena’s chest. Despite deep, gulping breaths, she felt like she wasn’t getting any air. Her mind spun as she tried to reject the reality– no, no, no, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be–

“I didn’t kiss him goodnight,” she finally said in low, hoarse tones.

Mattie drew her in for a closer embrace and held her for a moment, petting down her back like she was soothing a scared pet.

A gentle cough interrupted them. Sorel must have woken up during the commotion.

“Mattie–” Sorel’s deep, rich voice sounded hesitant. “Should I get Ambrose?”

Mattie hesitated only a moment before saying, “Yes, please, if you would.”

“I didn’t kiss him goodnight,” Rowena repeated, trying to control her breathing. “And it’s worse than that, I was always telling him to go– I never could quite– he was probably looking for me that night, he was always trying to explore–”

Mattie shushed her and made soothing, wordless sounds as she continued to hold Rowena, who trembled in her arms.

The door opened quietly as Ambrose, their town Healer, walked in. Rowena had never liked Ambrose much– he was a MAGIC USER, with the subclass Healer, but she was sure he’d only chosen it because his father had also been the town’s Healer. The paleness of his Sigils indicated a lower level, probably in the teens, despite his middle age, and Rowena felt this had something to do less with the limited injuries and illnesses in the sleepy town than with the Diceplayer subclass she’d sold him a custom wristband to cover up.

When he’d come into the shop, her eyes had widened, but like a good Merchant she’d said nothing in order to make the sale. But just how much time and effort did one have to put into something to gain an actual Subclass in it?

Still, he was all Tunehlan had by way of a doctor. He looked positively traumatized as he stumbled into the room, his greying brown hair in frazzled disarray around his head.

“She drank this entire waterskin– should I try to get her to eat?” Mattie asked quietly, holding up the skin.

Ambrose shook his head vaguely. “I need to get back to– I don’t have time for this. She just needs more sleep,” he said suddenly, and reached forward.

Sorel, who was in the hallway behind him, gave a confused, “Huh?” while Mattie stood up in protest, but it was too late.

Rowena’s vision faded to black again under the influence of Ambrose’s Put to Sleep ability, but she didn’t mind. Maybe she’d see her mother and Tommie again.

—

When she awoke this time, the sun was intense and low in the sky– approximately eight hours had passed since she’d first awoken that morning. Awoken to a new and changed reality.

This time, as she stirred, it was Calla she saw at her bedside. “Ro? Ro, don’t try to move too much. You’ve nothing broken, but Ambrose said you’ll be stiff for a few days. You collapsed when–” her voice caught.

Rowena sat up in bed despite the soreness on her left side. “What does Ambrose know?” she asked bitterly.

Calla met her eyes and gave a light, humorless laugh. “Fair enough.”

“Where’s father?” Rowena asked as she looked around her bedroom. Strange how it could look so familiar– the same little wardrobe, mostly empty except for a few of the simple dresses she wore each day, the same little desk, mostly full of books and papers and quills, the same simple woven rug on the floor and quilt on the wall that lent the room its only cheer and color– and yet her world could be so different.

“He’s–” Calla hesitated. “He’s in the back room.”

Rowena didn’t need her sister to explain further.

After their mother had died, Tomas had spent three weeks straight in the back room with a variety of bottles as his daughters, eleven and twelve at the time, desperately tried to learn how to care for their little brother. Rowena had refused any help except that of the innkeeper Artemesia, who had given birth to her own final child six months before and who had had milk to spare. Rowena figured the other adults in the town suspected what was going on, but Rowena had been direct and insistent even at that young age.

Family business was family business.

“Here, drink some more water,” Calla said awkwardly, shoving the waterskin into her sister’s hands. “Mattie’s orders.”

“Where’s Mattie? And Sorel?” Rowena asked, taking gulps of water between questions.

Funny, she’d barely noticed either of them before– they had only been background figures to her life– but since the explosion, since they’d been there when she woke, they’d begun to feel more… more real to her, in a way. “And Kieran?”

“There’s–” Calla hesitated once again, looking down at her hands. She clenched them tightly to avoid the nervous picking habit she had, which always ruined the polish she so meticulously applied.

“What is it?” Rowena asked sharply. “Just get it out.”

“Kieran’s been unconscious, too,” Calla said, finally raising her eyes to meet Rowena’s. “Since the– the accident.”

Rowena shook her head in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense. He was with me when it happened, and then with Martha. Is she okay? Oh, Mason…”

Calla swallowed, her green eyes filling with tears that spilled down well worn tracks on her face. “Oh, Ro. After the accident–”

“Stop calling it that,” Rowena said, sharpness in her voice. She didn’t know what had happened, but she was sure that it couldn’t have been an accident.

“After… it happened…” Calla wiped away some of the tears with her hands, then began searching her pockets for a handkerchief. “The mayor and some of the others started talking about the Selection ceremony. They started talking about, well, skipping it for this year, at least. The Heartstone, it… well, you saw it.”

Rowena nodded, remembering the oily black stone freshly cracked with rivulets of reddish orange light.

“Kieran was… he was so angry… about the explosion, about Mason, about,” here Calla’s voice cracked. “About Tommie. He demanded answers, demanded the Selection ceremony so he could… so he could help, he said…

“Obviously they said no,” Calla continued, sniffling. “But you know Kieran. He must have gone to the stone at midnight last night, as soon as Selection week was due to begin. Eleanora found him in the morning, half drowned in the fountain. He must have… oh Rowena, he must have tried to Select his Class and Subclass, and something awful happened!”

Rowena felt strangely removed from her body, her soreness a distant throb, her eyes oddly dry. It was almost as if she was watching the whole scene unfold like a play, because surely these things couldn’t all be true. Her father, drinking again? Her brother, dead? Her best friend–

“Is he alive?” Rowena asked calmly.

“Oh, yes,” Calla rushed to say. “I didn’t mean to imply– he’s alive. Ambrose says his vital signs are fine. He even…”

She trailed off, but Rowena grabbed her hand. “Go on.”

“Well, he got what he wanted,” Calla said. “He has his sigils. He’s a MAGIC USER like he always said he’d be. But I don’t recognize his Subclass. I thought he was going to go with Enchanter to make his mom’s tannery more useful, but–”

Rowena tuned out of her sister’s babbling and leaned back into the bed. The emotional effort of the last days was far more draining than her wounds, which meant with a small effort, she should be able to get around just fine.

“Help me up,” she said simply.

Calla looked worried, but stood up anyway. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Just take me to him,” Rowena said as she swung her legs over the right side of the bed.

Calla hurried around the bed and managed to grab her just in time, steadying her sister as she stood up.

“Did you do this?” Rowena looked down at the nightdress she was wearing, which she certainly hadn’t been wearing the night of the explosion.

Calla nodded. “I bathed you yesterday, too. I wouldn’t have bothered if I knew you’d wake up, but I didn’t know–” her voice cracked. “Do you think it has something to do with that stranger you saw the other night?”

Rowena put her arms around her sister, but not for support. “Maybe. Oh, Calla. I can’t imagine how this has been for you. I’ve just been asleep, but you… I’m awake now. I’m going to make a full report to the authorities, we’re going to bury Tommie, and then we’re going to help father.”

“I don’t want to make a report,” Calla snapped suddenly. “Tommie is dead, Rowena, and you’re right. This was no accident. Whoever did this–”

“The law will bring them to justice,” Rowena said firmly and took a few stumbling steps towards her wardrobe, where she selected a simple brown dress. “Now help me with this, and take me to see Kieran.”