We stumble through the portal and Silvy closes it behind us. I look around, seeing an empty field. When I turn back, the abandoned house with the scheme table and all the floating people inside of it stands before me.

“Wonderful,” I mutter. “We're right back where we started.”

“You didn't exactly tell me where you wanted to go,” Silvy says. “So I chose for you.”

I take a deep breath and sigh. At least Lebec doesn't know about this place. That's one good thing.

I look at Kiora. “We’re screwed. I don't know how else to say it. We are absolutely boned here.”

I already know what Lebec's going to do. And if he doesn't do it, Cerulea absolutely will.

One of them will alert the Austerium about the dead adepts filling up the lobby of Sulis.

Kiora and I will be charged with murder.

Worse, we'll be charged with being witches.

There won't be a trial. Only an execution.

Kiora, chewing on her lip, shakes her head. “We need to find the royal guards. They'll help us.”

“And how do we do that? Do you know how to get to where they are?”

“Not without that shadowstone. You got it, right?”

I chew on my lip for half a second. “About that…”

Kiora closes her eyes. “What happened?”

“I think you saw what happened. Renald's boss took all three stones. The one Renald wanted as well as the shadowstone and the tracestone.”

Kiora curses.

“Look on the bright side. We can always turn ourselves in,” I suggest.

“They'll execute us,” Kiora says.

“Maybe.”

“I don't want to gamble on maybe,” Kiora says.

I nod. “So then we'll figure out why that man wanted that witchstone so badly he was willing to sacrifice an entire room of adepts. Maybe if we bring that to the Austerium, they'll be lenient with us.”

Kiora raises an eyebrow and changes the subject. “Why haven't I seen you? It's been two years, right?”

“I've been in exile. They banished me from Anara.”

“The Austerium?” Kiora asks.

I nod.

“The group you want us to hope is lenient exiled you for two years?”

I gave her an awkward smile. “So far.”

“What's that mean?”

“I'm still in exile. Not exactly sure when the sentence ends.”

She rolls her eyes and I ask, “Do you know how to get to the royal guard?”

She frowns and shakes her head.

“Okay,” I say. “So we figure out what Renald's boss is planning.”

“Do we know what his name is?”

I shake my head. “I only knew Renald. I have no idea what his boss’s name is.”

Silvy puffs into existence on my shoulder. “Both of you could give Sherlock Holmes and Watson a run for their money.”

“Shut up.”

“I merely had a suggestion. An intelligent suggestion. Something the two of you seem to be lacking.”

“Shut up.” This time it's Kiora who says it.

“Fine.” Silvy pouts. “Don't listen. We'll just wait here until they figure out where you are.”

My mind spins out of control. Renald coming into Blackhart. Renald trying to buy the witchstone. Renald's boss talking about Pixie.

I look over at Kiora. “Pixie.”

Kiora raises an eyebrow. “Who's that?”

“She was kidnapped. Her mom came in to see me shortly after Renald was in Blackhart.”

“Okay?”

“Renald was the one who kidnapped her. I overheard Renald's boss saying as much.”

“So Pixie has been kidnapped.” Kiora shrugs. “I don't know how that helps us. It seems like it just adds another problem to our rapidly growing list of problems.”

“No,” I say, a smile slicing across my face. “It actually solves one of our problems. We need someplace safe.”

Kiora just stares at me.

“Who's safer than the mother of a kidnapped daughter who's hired you to find said daughter?”

Kiora's face didn't change. “Sometimes you talk weird.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Silvy says.

“Neither one of you get it. It'll be safe there. Don't you understand? If she wants me to find her daughter, she wants me to stay alive.”

“But she's a stick,” Silvy says. “How is she going to protect you?”

“That's the point. Sticks don't know about the Austerium. She won't need to protect us. No one will think to look for us there. Why would they?”

“I mean…” Kiora says. “I guess. If you think so.”

“If nothing else,” I say, not understanding why neither one of them get how brilliant my idea is, “we can at least look through Pixie’s room. Renald kidnapped her for a reason. She had a scrap of paper with the words Beckeldorff's and Filigree. And people inside of Beckeldorff's knew what the word Filigree meant. So my question is why would a stick girl know about Beckeldorff's first of all, and second why would she know something that a lot of the other patrons within Beckeldorff's knew?”

“Sounds like you have a real case on your hands,” Silvy says, rolling her eyes.

“I know. And I'm going to solve it.”

Silvy sighs. “You’re really letting this detective dalliance go to your head. Darling, you do realize that two days ago you were selling witchstones and hoping to simply make rent on your gateway, correct?”

“I realize all of that, but none of it matters. Right now we are being hunted. Kiora and I have a guillotine hanging over both of our heads, and the only thing that's going to stop it is figuring out what the hell is going on.”

“Okay,” Kiora says, slowly nodding her head. “Okay. We'll go to this woman's house, but I want to find the royal guard.”

I nod at her. “I get that. I don't have a shadowstone right now though. I have several more back in Blackhart, but I have no way of getting there if Sulis is locked down by the Austerium.”

“You could always go in through the night market,” Silvy suggests.

“Yes,” I say, “I could, but how am I supposed to get into the night market?”

“I could open a gateway,” Kiora suggests.

I shake my head no. “Cerulea knows who you are now. They already have all of your personal info from C&C. Your gateway access is either one, locked down and you’re locked out of Anara right now, or two, there'll be an alert if you access a gateway. Or three, I guess, a combo of the first two.”

She stares at me.

I roll my eyes. “It's what I’d do. Wait for you to use a gateway and then have five billion adepts flow through the very gateway you're trying to open.”

Kiora sighs. “Okay, I give up.”

I nod. Not exactly the attitude I want, but I'll take it.

“Silvy, open a portal to—”

A portal opens directly below us and Kiora and I fall through. We hit the ground beside a nice house, roll into the driveway, and lay on our backs, staring up at the sky, staring at the portal floating there.

Silvy floats through and the portal snaps shut.

“That sucked,” Kiora says. “Does she always do that?”

“Yes,” Silvy answers for me. “She always does that. I'm bored so I have to do something to keep it entertaining.”

I turn my head to glance at Kiora. “Welcome to the cursed life of Hexana Covington.”

Kiora shakes her head and sits up.

The house whose driveway we're sitting in is two stories tall. A Victorian house. A large, screened porch wraps around the front of it.

There aren't a whole lot of Victorians in the Houston suburbs. It's strange to see.

I reach a hand out for Kiora and help her up. At the front door, I ring the doorbell.

There's a short pause before the door opens.

Marist stands there, looking just as frazzled as she had the day she walked into my shop, telling me about her kidnapped daughter.

Her mouth turns into an O once she recognizes me. “Have you found her?” Nervous energy pulsates and wavers every word. “Did you find my Pixie? Did you?”

She glances at Kiora, seeming to see her for the first time and freezes.

When she finally finds her words to speak again, she says, “That's not her. You don't think that's Pixie, do you? Because that's not Pixie.”

I hold my hands up. “I know it's not Pixie. This is…” I try to think of a good description of what Kiora is to me, but my mind keeps floating back to that Sherlock and Watson comparison Silvy made. Bitch. I close my eyes. “She's essentially my Watson.”

“Your what?” Marist asks.

“Watson. She's helping me. If I'm Sherlock, she's Watson.”

“Please don't tell me you're both larping as Sherlock Holmes and Watson. My daughter is missing.”

I nod. “Kiora is my assistant. We've actually made progress on your case.” Your case… Listen to how oh-so-official I sound. I scan the street, convinced I'll see adepts at any moment. “Can we come in?”

Marist looks at Kiora for a long moment, really sizing her up, and then frowns. “I suppose. You won't stay long though? I don't trust her.”

Kiora raises her eyebrows. “I'm just trying to help find your daughter, ma'am.”

Marist grants but steps back, allowing us to enter. When the door clicks shut behind us, I breathe out a sigh of relief, grateful to be hidden from all the prying eyes, from all the houses that surround this one.

“Would you like some coffee?” Marist asks.

“Yes. And food,” I say after glancing over at the grandfather clock in the living room. It's 5:30 PM. I've been up for almost twelve hours. I haven't eaten anything. I'm exhausted from the continual witchstone use. I just want to sleep for the rest of my life.

I start walking towards where I think the kitchen is, but Marist points to the couch.

“Take a seat,” she says. “I'll take care of it all. You’re helping find my daughter. It's the least I can do.”

I nod. “Sure.”

Kiora and I both collapse on the couch. I press my head back into the couch cushion and close my eyes, that dreIvy feeling right before sleep hits rolls over me.

“She's weird,” Kiora says, startling me awake.

“Her daughters missing,” I say. “It's to be expected. How would you act?”

“I wouldn't know,” Kiora says. “I'll never have a daughter.”

All the questions I've had about witches come bubbling up, but I push them down. Now isn't the time.

I take a deep breath and let it out. As I do, someone pounds on the front door three times, sending my shoulders up to my ears.

Marist erupts from the kitchen, moving quickly towards the front door.

I hold a finger up, but Marist doesn't stop.

“Are you expecting someone?” I ask.

Marist nods. “Oh yes. This will just take a moment. It's a friend with a…” There's a long pause. “With a fruitcake.”

It's the middle of summer. It's not fruitcake season. I glance over at Kiora.

Something's wrong, Kiora mouths at me.

I nod, standing up from the couch and slipping my hand into my pocket. I pull a single witchstone from my holster, squeeze it, and place it at the entryway to the living room as I hear Marist open the front door. The front door is around the corner so I can't see who's there, but neither Marist nor the person who knocked on the door speak.

That's a bad sign.

“Go to the kitchen,” I tell Kiora.

She nods and moves back towards that door. She slips through and I press my back against the entryway to the living room. I slip my hand in my pocket and pull out another witchstone, pinching it with both hands and pulling it like taffy. A magical beam erupts from it, long like taffy. The magick sticks to my hands, drips down them and forms glowing, green gloves. I wait.

Footsteps approach the entryway and I close my eyes.

I can hear breathing. From more than one person.

I glance down at the witchstone on the ground, praying that the spell inside is strong enough to hold.

When the first cloaked figure walks through the entryway nothing happens. When the second one walks through, he glances over and sees me there.

I clapped my magick gloved hands together and both the adepts snap together, not realizing they've walked through a magick net. They're squeezed together as if with saran wrap. I squeeze my hands hard, watching as their faces slowly turn blue and the air is forced from their lungs. I release my hands slightly and they both glare at me.

“Look who I found,” Kiora says, walking in from the kitchen. Before her is Marist, tears streaming down her face. “Someone was trying to escape.”