I ate the fruits on the table to restore my energy. Pizza served as the main course menu while the gingerbread and the muffin made for decent desserts washed down by the orange juice. Siris would have liked it.

I didn't have time to ponder about his loss. Darcy and Simon needed the table once I was ready in a combo discipline they called sympathetic divination.

A black-haired doll clad in a scarf and jacket lay placed on it. A pencil-drawn circle on the paper below it helped Simon focus his energy while he read out the name on its nametag.

"JONATHAN FROST, JONATHAN FROST, JONATHAN FROST!" Simon shouted.

Simon and probably not even Darcy didn't have the life energy for a link with a being of Nathan's strength, let alone sending messages, but if everything went right, he should feel a mild nudge.

We had a radio on our table. That way, we listened to news about the storm and how bad it was shaping up to be. "It's a truly unprecedented event! The storm has been covering New England and started engulfing New York and New Jersey, too! A ten on the Beaufort scale with speeds of fifty-six miles per hour and meteorologists have no idea where it has come from. And as if that wasn't enough, there have been floods everywhere, even outside the coastal regions. Food crops are burning everywhere and earthquakes have been reported in seven states.

"President Jackson reassured his citizens that everything is under control. The Federal Emergency Management Agency is preparing camps while the National Weather Service has issued a warning against leaving the house until then. Meteorologists are still debating why the disasters seem less severe in inhabited areas."

"Wow," Isa said, "I've heard songs about the end of the world, but to see it play out right before your eyes is something else entirely."

"The world won't end," Darcy said. "Our people will ward these elemental spirits out of our towns and counteract their storm. If the crisis reaches S-ranked proportions, we can even get guys like Heracles or Sun Wukong to leave their Centers of Worship and come here."

"The Faerie Monarchs already failed to help," I said. "And by ourselves, we aren't strong enough against the Erlking. He can act in the open. We can't. We don't even know his name. He's at a huge advantage."

"So?" Darcy asked. "Magic isn't about power, it's about knowledge. Our people have worked in the dark for centuries and they won't be stopped by a crisis like this."

"Maybe," I said. "But not on their own."

"What are you planning?"

I didn't answer. It was more important to listen to what the reporter had to say. "A #BurnTheWitch hashtag has linked the storm to the Witch of Summer Hill and her psychic powers. It has been criticized for hysteria and demonization of what might be an innocent. Experts consider claims of psychic powers unfounded and investigate natural storm causes. Silicon valley entrepreneur Adrian Kravos meanwhile attributes the recent disasters to global warming and wants to present his newest invention."

I turned the radio off.

"They don't know you," Isa said.

"I don't care what they think," I said. "If anything, it only makes me stronger."

"Stronger because your good name to fight for?"

Stronger in a different way mainly. One I couldn't mention without losing my life.

The storm whipped against the library's walls like a doorbell. It was a miracle that the windows were still intact enough to give me a full view of the chaos outside.

Clouds danced with shadow and flame while the cold currents of downpour flogged against Summer Hill's outskirts. The rusty fence around the library had been torn apart while the one line of police tape left might have been enough to stop a toddler criminal.

The ward around Summer Hill encompassed this former research facility. Yet, while the ward prevented monsters from entering, it didn't prevent physical damage from weather.

Above the warded town, crows and hounds danced before the full moon. The moon was always scary to me. Even before I knew about magic and monsters, I saw a full moon as a bad omen. It was almost as if the Erlking's storm left a hole in its cloud canopy just so that we could see it.

At least the Sylph getting pierced by a lightning bolt served as a reminder that, no matter how dire the situation, our Black Knights were still fighting.

Fence posts and tree branches blew across the street before stopping when they hit the invisible man on the street.

Since I expected Nathan to be here, his glamour's least-resistance principle didn't fully work on me. Once I pictured him standing before the facility's door and concentrated on him, his glamour broke fully. I could see his drenched mask and his pants and jacket full of water.

Good that I snapped out of my crisis earlier. I'd have ended up like him had I remained in the storm even slightly longer.

I was used to seeing Nathan as a tall, imposing figure. He was the type of man afraid of nothing. He could walk near a building-destroying monster and blow up its head without a hint of fear. He always had alluring confidence in everything he did and no regrets.

When he stepped into the library, I realized what a mess he had become. After tossing his soaked jacket to the ground, he slung himself onto a toppled-over shelf with his feet on the table. His hair was dripping with rain and his glasses gathered drops he didn't bother wiping away. He was too tired to do so. Considering his heavy breath, he didn't feel like someone who had walked through the rain. More like someone who was underwater and caught air for the first time in an hour.

Darcy and Isa had stood up the moment he approached and glared at him.

Only Simon, who still sat, attempted to strike a conversation. "Are you alright man," Simon asked.

Nathan took a deep breath. "I'm alright, man. Storm felt like Poseidon's masturbating from the sky, but I think I managed."

"This is my brother," Darcy said. "Don't talk to him like you're his friend because you're not. Ask your godmother what she knows and let us in peace."

He straightened and his tone hardened when he recognized Darcy. "Why did you call my name? Did you think about my offer?"

All eyes turned to me. "We need help from your godmother," I said.

"Hope your wish's to curse everyone in the Council to death, otherwise, her payment will be steep."

"Don't care."

"Your problem. Tell me where I can summon her."

"Why not here?" I asked.

"As if I was gonna tell you Titania's true name."

"And I don't wanna invite a shady fairy goddess in the same room as me, but guess what? Life's no picnic!"

He wasn't even looking at me. Feet on the table, hands in his pockets, he enjoyed the angry looks he received from everyone except Simon. He thought it was cool. Picking fights and being a pain in the rear while the world was burning down. "By your Council's classification, she's a godling, not a goddess," he said.

"What is the payment, if I may ask," Darcy said.

Nathan pointed at me. "Her name. The Erlking's book."

"The Erlking's ... what?" Darcy asked.

Finally. I got him talking about what I wanted him to talk about.

"The Erlking's a piece of vermin," Nathan said, "but my godmother and he know another. He already got your mother's name and now he wants yours."

"Do you know this or is this just a rumor?" I asked.

"Who knows?" he asked. "Titania doesn't lie. The payment probably depends on what you ask-"

"I'm not talking about the payment," I said. "You said my mother wrote her name in his book!"

He grumbled. "Spoiled little brat. You can't even imagine that the people who raised you might not be who you think they were."

"You learned your parents were fairies, I learned my Mom was a witch, we aren't so different, I guess," I said.

"Your mother was a witch in the metaphorical and literal sense," Nathan said. "Not that I'm blaming her. I also triggered the Council's bloodthirst. They'll throw you to the wolves, too, if you can't keep your head down."

"Nathan," I said. "This is not about me. This is not about you. People are dying out there. People like the ones you grew up around when you were small. People like whoever your adoptive family was. Simon, turn up the radio's volume!"

The lamps that lit the building burned out like candle flames before he got his fingers on the device. Only the moonlight streaming through the windows broke through the gloom and darkness. Cold rain, light but steady, dripped against the windowpane and I realized not only our house suffered from power failure. Summer Hill was dark. Really dark. Thanks to the full moon, I saw the outlines of neighboring houses and extinguished lanterns. Did the Black Knights' wards around the towns fail?

As if to answer my question, sickly green scepters danced around before the full moon. The ghosts were mounted on spectral horses and held sabers and trumpets with which they coordinated their dogs. Hellhounds followed the galloping horses. A troop of soldiers clad in clothing from the Revolutionary War era passed neighborhood windows in a heartbeat.

My stomach sank. Like most monsters, these things couldn't enter a home without being invited. However, if anyone was still outside or if anyone's home had been destroyed, they were helpless. And with the power out, no-one would see them and they couldn't call for help.

Not to mention that even homes didn't stop their boss, the Headless Horseman himself. According to myths about the Dullahan, all doors and hinges would unlock and anyone whose name he spoke became his victim.

Isa used Mozilla to produce a light fireball around her that lit the room like a small candle. Meanwhile, Simon got the radio to work. The telephone towers hadn't been destroyed yet, as a message could be heard.

"A mysterious man has appeared over Providence. He does not appear in footage, but according to eye-witness reports, he rides on a black, flying horse, wears black armor, and lacks a head. In one hand, he holds a head while his other hand holds a whip made of human bones. His arrival immediately caused a storm that destroyed most of the surrounding areas and forced his victims into shelters. The military tried to shoot him down, but their artillery rounds merely phased through his body with no effect. He is currently riding West towards Connecticut.

"His presence strengthened the storm and damaged the power grid. Rhode Island, Connecticut, Massachusetts, New York, Maine, and New Hampshire are currently suffering from the blackout. Religious groups are certain that we are living in the end times and that Satan has sent the first Horseman of the Apocalypse while conspiracy theorists believe that the government created a holographic superweapon."

Simon stopped the broadcast. " Yep, we get it, it's bad. Can the good guys stop him?"

"It will be hard," Darcy said. "The Headless Horseman is one of the strongest and most famous denizens in the Unseelie Kingdom, second only to the likes of Autumn King Gwyn ap Nudd and Winter Queen Nicvenin."

"His position's similar to that of Titania in the Seelie Kingdom," Nathan said. "They're both godlings. They're immortals with archmage-level firepower. He ain't invincible like a true god, but mental attacks won't scratch him, and elemental magic phases through him."

"Ever since he lost his head, he has been struck by grief," Darcy said. "he spent his eternity trying to find people who think like him. When people feel enough despair, he rips their souls out of their bodies and makes them join his Wild Hunt. All those names the Erlking collected and all the life energy he got from people's despair; its purpose was to summon the Horseman."

"He can't be unbeatable though," Isa said. "Every monster has some weakness, doesn't it?"

"The Irish say he can't harm you if you put gold before your door," Nathan said. "But whatever the Erlking did made him less vulnerable to the Veil and antipathic elements."

"So," Isa said. "We'll die?"

Darcy's face sunk in the gloom of the candle's shadows. "We might have had a chance to win before this guy showed up. Now we don't. It's all over."

Simon put his hand on his sister's shoulder.

I saw genuine panic behind Nathan's glasses. I wasn't used to seeing him like that. I was used to him being moody, bored, or just impossible to read. There was no smug satisfaction about his cynicism being proven right.

I stared him into the eyes. "I know we're living through hard times, but our enemy is literally feeding on our worst emotions. I already gave in to despair, but my Dad and my friends went all the way to carry me back despite the storm."

"How 'bout you tell us your plan instead of preaching?" Nathan said.

"I'm glad I at least have your cooperation. You summon your godmother and then I'll ask her for the Erlking's real name. Once we have it, Darcy will call our Archmage, give her the name, and they'll make mincemeat of him."

Nathan nodded.

I knew that would cost me, but I was prepared. Assuming the Erlking had a first and last name and Titania operated on an equivalent exchange principle, I might trade my two middle names. They were disposable and not as intimate as my first name.

If the Council caught him, they might also catch whatever entity he was trading the names with. It was a risky job, but one I was willing to take.

Nathan jumped up. Kneeling on the floor, he took out a piece of chalk and drew a circle. He added five prongs, one for each element – I knew that much, to form a pentagram.

"You guys lay out an iron nail circle so that I can contain her," he asked. "And then you get out before you hear me say you're name or the Wild Hunt's your smallest worry."

The storm broke through the library's ceiling as he finished speaking.