August yawned, her jaw popped, and she winced before rubbing the sore spot. She regretted falling asleep at the table. “I mean, I’m happy you’re okay, Lawry… But don’t you think we should to be sure, first?” She moved on to divulging herself of the crusty feeling in her eyes. The clouds overhead parted, allowing the shimmering sunlight to stream in through splits in the roof, a harsh gold burning its way through the space. It didn’t match the otherwise grey sky, and August thought it was an evil trick to be bright so early.
“I am , August,” Lawry paused and bit her lip. She’d need to get the roof redone. “And Nadir. There are more important things to be discussing currently than my ,” She moved away from the table August and Nadir sat, choosing instead to slip behind the bar. Lawry had shook both of them awake, and she seemed more than a little panicked, even if she was saying otherwise.
Lawry poured herself a shot of whiskey before downing it in an instant. Nadir watched her glance from the shot glass, its walls stained with a few remaining drops of amber gold, before Lawry chose instead to drink from the bottle. She made no face of displeasure after downing a swig, though the sight made Nadir wince. He glanced at August, and she shared a similar look of worry; they were thinking the same thing, exemplified by their connection.
That Lawry was certainly not okay. She knocked the shot glass into the sink with the grace of a sloth, and when it instantly shattered—the glass a rainbow in the light—she winced, pursing her lips tightly. Lawry giggled manically before taking another swig from the bottle and looking toward the ceiling. August and Nadir watched, their worry growing, while Lawry slowly grounded herself. After a minute of her giggles, Nadir decided this was going too far, and broke the uncomfortable silence.
“Look, Lawry, we’re just concerned. Can you at least explain what happened? With the whole… Diner, and your arms, and the mimic, and ?” Nadir paused to glance at August before continuing. His voice billowed through the barn, caressing every surface with its gentle echo, a warm blanket of comfort and trust. “We believe you if you say you’re fine. But we still care, and we have a right to know.” The room was silent. August didn’t dare break the comfortable stillness his words left behind, and Lawry seemed too bitter to answer.
But he was right. They did have a right to know, and Lawry chided herself for being scared. Because she knew that’s what this was: fear. “Yes, alright. I will go roughly chronologically.” She didn’t want to lie but she didn’t know how to put it to words yet. She’d only been awake a few minutes herself. “I used magic to fight the mimic. The mimic fled. The magic ailed me. Now we are here.” She knew it wasn’t satisfactory. She wanted to pretend not to care, but it was obvious she did. She took another large gulp of the russet alcohol before corking the bottle.
“We know that’s not good enough,” August was the first to respond, and she glared at Lawry, who looked pathetic. Her grey hair was ruffled beyond belief, a rat’s nest streaming down to Lawry’s back, and she was slouching over a bottle of alcohol. It was a sore sight, and for a second, August thought it might be better to shut up. But Lawry needed a reality check. “Tell us what actually happened. , tell us at this point!” She was yelling, and she was out of the chair in an instant. It rattled beneath her, falling somewhere on the ground.
Nadir wasn’t moving to stop this, which for August, was more than enough to tell her to continue. She stomped toward Lawry, the fury of a thousand emanating from her, and grabbed the hem of Lawry’s shirt. It didn’t matter that August was shorter. “You, just yesterday, made a goddamned with us. You’re a woman. Grow the fuck up,” August grabbed the bottle off the countertop and raised it to Lawry’s face before flinging it over the loft wall. It crashed, landing somewhere in the workshop. “And act like it.”
Lawry met August’s gaze, her eyes steely and unafraid. Lawry wondered for a moment if August would be scared if she knew the truth, if she’d seen the years of war, of battles, of power so far beyond anything comprehensible, but it wasn’t a question worth pondering. Lawry wasn’t superior, or stronger, and she needed to stop pretending she was, ego be damned. She looked away from August first, glancing at the hand around her shirt, mumbling in response.
When she realized it didn’t come out clearly, she cleared her throat and raised her head again. “You’re right.” Two words, but ones that rarely came easily. August looked furious for only a moment, clearly expecting something else, before the frustration faded away, a shadow cast away by the pure shock on her face. August let go of Lawry and stepped away, nodding gently. She rejoined Nadir.
“?” Nadir repeated and glanced at August. Her blond hair caught the sunlight and sparkled violently; she looked like a firework, a million bright lights scattering through the sky and falling over the water. His stomach flipped violently and he tried to suppress the memory from summer, so that it might not get through their connection. He needed a distraction, and Lawry was the perfect one. It’s what he should be focused on, he thought, and not how August looked.
August looked at him. He didn’t recognize the expression. “You have to give us more than that, Lawry. C’mon,” He held up his left hand, flashing the tattoo in Lawry’s direction. It hid his face from August. “August is right. You didn’t just make a promise, you made a . We’re not going anywhere. Just tell us the truth? Please?” Lawry looked like she was on the verge of an indescribable horror. Perhaps crying.
She glanced at her hand for only a moment before nodding. She beat away the mounting anxiety parading through her chest, “I know, I know. I need you two to make a decision, then.” She paused, her tongue twisted. She wasn’t ready to ask this question, she didn’t know how to convey its magnitude, “If I am to tell you two… , then there is no going back. Even now, there are still ways for you to return to normalcy.” She thought she might throw up.
The words were tumbling over each other. She couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in her skull. “If I tell you this, you will have to stay within this world forever. You won’t ever be able to return to your previous lives, not exactly.” She’d originally planned to give them to the Ministry after the mimic was dead, but she knew now that was never going to happen. “The world, I mean. And… This will require some context, if you say yes.” Lawry dearly wished they made the right decision, that they would still want to turn the wheels of time away from this path. But that would never happen.
The clouds covered the sun. Lawry glanced up, and the golden light changed to a dull grey, a bad omen of what’s to come. The duo spoke in the instant she looked away, and their answer was final, even simple. “Yes.” August and Nadir looked between each other, neither surprised they’d said the same thing. It was expected, with the connection, though Nadir clarified. “Tell us. Please.”
“Right.” Lawry nodded and moved away from the bar, choosing to sit at the table with them. She glanced toward the sword, discarded in a corner near her makeshift bed. “As you know, I had a connection, much like you two. Though, it is not technically called that,” She looked between August and Nadir. They nodded eagerly, and she decided to take that as a good sign, “It is technically called Coriolis’ Intermediary Link and Connection Between a Living Two,” Their expressions quickly changed to one of shock, “And you now understand why I have simply called it the connection.”
Nadir felt horrified. He hoped it wasn’t common for spells to have such long names, mostly for August’s sake. Lawry continued, not pausing for a second, “Though, the person I was… to, passed away. She was my lover, or I her confidant, so to say.” The two tried to disguise their utter disbelief. The idea of the solitary Lawry having a lover was foreign to them, though Nadir worked through the event and quickly came to the conclusion that the death of her partner may have been what pushed her into a solitary lifestyle. He knew it was common.
“The sword,” She pointed at the sword, still on the ground, “Was a . I would regularly input magic into it when casting enchantments and spells—common among spellcasters, though exemplified for spellblades, as we work best with raw magic, and therefore struggle to refine it within our own bodies. Turning an object into a channel is a long practiced spell, and I was planning to teach you the spell soon, August.”
Not that she couldn’t still teach her, she supposed, especially if August wasn’t going anywhere. “Which would ordinarily be no issue. However, the loss of your partner while linked can leave a within your magical , so to say. Think of it as a tunnel between the two of you, and when the tunnel is broken, it leaves an open space.” She took the time to wet her lips. “What happened when I touched the sword,” She looked to Nadir, and though her tone was neutral, he still felt guilty, “Is that the enchantments tuned to me attempted to fill my , and so a torrent of raw magical energy spilled from the gap.”
Lawry never intended to be a teacher, and most aspects of magic simply made sense to her. The process of trying to explain it to the duo was difficult, so she could only hope it made sense. August and Nadir were nodding along, though, so she assumed it was a decent elaboration. Nadir interrupted her next sentence. “Okay. So basically, like… Wild magic, or something. That makes sense,” He paused to look at his hands. Shame tied his words into knots, “And, uh, I’m sorry for doing that.” Lawry reached over to gently shake his shoulder and the frown, unnoticed by Nadir, slowly changed to a smile. He bat her hand away.
“So… Your arms, then? Was that connected to the , thing?” August asked, glancing at Lawry’s arms while she shook Nadir. Lawry looked, too, before resting them on the table. She understood how impactful a height difference could feel, and manipulating it was something she’d grown used to. She beat away every instinct telling her that she needed to look imposing and chose to lean forward instead, equalizing her height.
“In a sense. This is something you should know, either way, August. It is essentially a , or more officially, physiostigmatacism. It occurs in the extremities,” Lawry gestured with her hands, “The back, chest, you understand. It’s a temporary of your magical pathways, leading to an overwhelming appearance, even in minor cases. Thankfully, due to my lack of latent magical energy—the , again—it healed rather quickly.” She paused, attempting to remember if there was anything else. “For you, August, it would heal slower, since you have more latent magical energy.”
It was close enough to the scientific descriptions that she hoped August wouldn’t be confused when they learned about it through official texts on the subject. Right now, she needed to be concise and clear. Nadir urged her to continue. “When you handed over the sword,” Nadir thought it was a comical version of events, “The mimic fled, likely because of the extreme magical force. Then, I passed out due to magical overload.” She ran her hands over each other repeatedly. They felt cold.
“I see,” Nadir started, playing the events through in his mind. So far it all made sense, but there was still one glaring issue. “Why didn’t you just tell us that, then? I mean, none of that seems like a huge deal.” He cocked his head curiously, an ever-patient hound at Lawry’s heels. August glanced at the tattoo they all shared, still unbroken, despite how clear it was that Lawry hadn’t spoken the full truth. The pact was fallible, then.
Lawry knew this part was coming, even if she wished it wouldn’t. Her worry and fear brewed inside her throat, a tea so devilish it could make an iron stomach convulse in disgust, but she deflected it this time. She swallowed the emotion and bile, “Because the mimic said some things to me. Some… things, though this requires a bit of a lesson.” She paused, waiting for the acknowledgment she hoped wouldn’t come, and when they urged her to continue she could only sigh. Her breath was a pained howl in the stillness of the barn.
“Well… First of all, the mimic said they are not alone. That they, quote, want me to join them—and that they wanted you, August. Supposedly, replacing Nadir was a way to get into your good graces from the beginning. This means they were… you,” Her throat burned. She didn’t want to mention just how unsavory the mimic was, she thought, and she hoped Nadir wouldn’t ask for a word-by-word recount. And though he looked rabid, a million unanswered questions barely contained, Lawry managed to avoid that horror.
August was another matter. She was steaming with anger and buzzing with energy; Lawry could tell August wasn’t casting a spell of any kind, but it was clear her emotions were wild. She continued, despite that, “That is, to join them in avenging a piece of the past within the world. Many years ago now, I worked for something called the Bureau of Magical Affairs.” The words were sandpaper, rubbing her mouth raw. Lawry expected to taste blood, the very recounting of the Bureau’s name causing her pain, but nothing came.
She was fine, or that’s what she told herself. “They- oversaw within the supernatural world. If anything, or anyone, who is supernaturally-aware committed a crime, we would deal with them. The ones that could not be contained within a non-supernatural prison system, that is.” There was a lot to this, but Nadir already seemed overwhelmed, and he asked her to pause. August was enraptured, despite the boiling fury.
When Lawry abided, he fetched a notebook from his backpack and began writing everything down. The action made Lawry feel queasy; she could have told them everything much sooner. They were fully committed to this life, to her, and to learning. She wasn’t sure why she’d ever thought otherwise, but she knew why, in the back of her mind. Despite any front she put on, she was a deep well of murky fear, too still to be disturbed. Until August and Nadir started prodding.
“The Bureau was primarily headed by the Spellblades, both a group and a categorization. My of spellcaster, that is, just like a witch. This, you already know—though, as far as I am aware, I am the last spellblade within the United States. I do not know for elsewhere, however, as we are rare.” Nadir scratched away in his notebook, the sound alike a bear pawing at a tree in an attempt to get at a hive. August, in her ever-present insistence, had a question.
“So, wait. The Bureau of Magical Affairs only operated in the States, then?” It was an assumption, though Lawry nodded yes. Other places had their own systems, groups and history, though Lawry wasn’t fully acquainted with much of it. August tapped her foot against the leg of the table, attempting to think it all through, before urging Lawry to continue. “What happened, then?”
“What happened to the Bureau is our matter. May I introduce,” She sweeped her arms wide, a grand display of false reverence. Her tone betrayed the distinct hatred she had, a cool venom slipping in between every word, “The Ministry of Natural Law.” The words were envenomed with abhorrent heat, and the intense emotion made Nadir pause in surprise. “They are the lawful power presiding over the States, now. And from my understanding, much of the wider Americas, such as Canada and Mexico. Though their presence is not without gaps in power.”
She bit her tongue. Breathe, she reminded herself, breathe. “To break it down simply, people did not always like the Spellblades, and therefore, the Bureau of Magical Affairs. Due to spellcasters being a minority across the wider board, some were unhappy that one group of spellcasters held much of the power.” August looked green, and Nadir knew to expect that explanation. It always came down to another group vying for power.
“The Ministry, though it was not yet called that, formed to disrupt the Bureau and their control. This began a larger event that modern magical historians label as,” She paused, glancing between Nadir and August. She wanted these words to come easier, she wished to be able to be as truthful as she wanted. But her fears held her back, as they always did. It was a stark reminder of her past mistakes, ones that she stopped concerning herself over years ago.
Lawry was realizing she may never have properly moved on. “The War of the Lights, or the Fifth Worm War, or the Battles of the Worms, or the Second Reckoning. There is contention within the sphere as to its label, if you cannot tell. To summarize, it was a tumultuous time within the magical world.” Tumultuous was a parody of the real events, she thought. It was the first time in recent history that powers outside the Americas came to the continent. They hadn’t been left with a decision on the matter.
They all would’ve died otherwise. She prepared herself for the inevitable questions, the words from Nadir that would slip between her armor and comfort her at the core, or for August’s prodding accusations that managed to disrupt the perfect lake of fear inside her and bring her back to earth. Every slight movement from August and Nadir’s mouths refracted in her eyes, a kaleidoscope of expectation and worry. The questions were coming, they always did.
Despite how awful she felt being forced to dredge up the past, it was necessary, and Lawry knew that. August spoke first. “The War of the Lights?” Images of the curses and their infantile forms flooded August’s mind. She could practically see them, waving through the air, a beautiful display from a disgusting creature. “Why ?” She asked more specifically. August hadn’t told Lawry, or Nadir, about what had happened in the diner; if this was in any capacity connected, she knew that she needed to. It wasn’t that she wasn’t going to, August thought, there just hadn’t been time.
“Yes. The ,” Lawry was growing tired, and the overwhelming exhausting was slowly ebbing out the bitterness that stayed everpresent throughout the conversation. Lawry knew that neither feeling helped August and Nadir, so she was attempting to temper them. “Though I prefer the moniker of Fifth Worm War. The war spurred on a divide between ,” She laughed. To her, the magical world was the only normal one; Lawry had never known anything else. “Supernaturally-aware people—like Nadir—and spellcasters. This meant that, during the war between the Bureau and the , there was a large spike spike in how much magical energy was being used. On both sides.” She was skipping over much of the events. This was a general outline, or as best as Lawry could give one.
“This lured in many creatures that magic. The lights, as they are sometimes known—or the worms—are a form of curse that consume magical energy and spread. They are not , I could not reach out and touch them, so to say.” She avoided explaining exactly how they lived. That would require explaining the House, and they were not ready for that, she thought. “Though they could touch , a spellcaster. The Ministry encouraged their growth, as a convenient way to undermine their enemies.” The images of wormridden Spellblades flooded through Lawry’s mind, horrific as the day she’d first seen them. Hundreds of people, ravaged from head to toe by pinprick holes—their very nerves opening up—flooded her mind. Their screams echoed in her ears, a battering ram upon her sanity, and she remembered how it felt when just one worm wriggled under her skin.
Lawry didn’t let it show. She didn’t want to recount how her friend’s skin had unpeeled layer by layer, their organs a bunch of persimmons nestled between the gleaming white of their ribs, or the horrifying glee the Ministry soldiers felt, watching a storm of spellblades fall to an invisible threat. Nadir goaded her to continue, and Lawry was suddenly very happy that she could still keep some things hidden.
“They consume magical energy to grow, but when they run out of that, they consume everything else. Matter, memory, - . They are one of the oldest creatures we have documented within the magical world, though nobody knows exactly where they come from. Some historians theorize other worlds, or timelines, so to say. I cannot speak to the validity of these theories.” Lawry bat away the memories. The people were gone, and her feelings helped no one. There was no point letting them ravage her.
August couldn’t remain quiet any longer. “Uhm, Lawry,” Lawry was silently grateful for the distraction, “I think I saw… . After you passed out, I mean; I went to retrieve the sword, and there were tons of lights kinda… around it. Or I think they were the same thing- they also kinda looked like bug-worm things to me.” Her words were ice, and Lawry felt like she’d just been thrown into a winter lake. She looked at the sword in horror.
She felt like throwing up. She wondered if she’d slept near them, what she may already have forgotten, or what could have already changed if the worms appetite leaned toward time. Lawry was rising before she realized she’d moved, and the chair made a skidding sound on the wooden floorboard. “Are they still there?!” She screamed, uncontrolled, desperate. She couldn’t stop herself.
Nadir yelped in turn. He hadn’t expected Lawry to yell, and even August looked shocked, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. “No! No, I mean- I don’t think so! I can’t see anything, and I’m pretty sure I them?” August replied as fast as she could, tumbling over the words. She motioned to move, to hold Lawry in an attempt to soothe her, but Lawry stepped away from the touch. She began pacing, running her hand through her dull grey hair.
Each step echoed in her ear. Every harsh touch of wind on the barn walls, every note of drowned birdsong played under the gusts, even the light in her eye was fading. She couldn’t breathe and the world was a snake, swallowing her whole, barely an appetizer on its conquest across the great plains of every inch she attempted to keep hidden. And then, her mind finally caught up to August’s words. Something broke; not just inside her, but in the logic.
This had just become so much worse, she thought. “You them?” Lawry choked, her voice pained, “How the did you kill them, exactly?” She couldn’t stop it. The words were pouring out, a stony waterfall. It reverberated through the wooden furniture and dealt a frosty blow deep into Nadir’s bone; the sound echoed through the barn, a chorus of thunderstorms. It faded the instant he felt it, and afterward, he couldn’t tell if it had been real.
August stammered. “I mean, I, uh-” It was impossible to get the words out. The feeling crept up her spine, playing the vertebrae like a xylophone, click-clacking along each inch until it spread through her neck and reached her tongue. Everything felt numb. “I just, I did. I mean, after you passed out, I felt really weird- and I went it to grab the sword and I just started casting magic. I said some words, and… Stuff. I don’t know!” She admitted, her voice slowly rising in frustration. It was a defense mechanism, and August hoped her own heat might win against the pervading cold, but her admittance only seemed to make it worse.
“What did you say? When you cast magic?” Lawry demanded, and August repeated the words as best she could remember. The icy numbness faded, and August thought Lawry was calming down. She realized she was mistaken when a new expression bloomed, one of horrifying shock. Lawry leaned against the counter and clutched her head in her hands. She rubbed at her temples, though it didn’t help with the mounting migraine.
Lawry mumbled, though her words boomed, strong despite the tired softness. “August. When the lights began to spread, or the worms, there were not enough people to stop them. Witches and the like, various spellcasters specialized in removing curses, you understand.” She ran through the events in her head, gathered by experience and various occult texts. She didn’t want to think about this, but if August was telling the truth, this could only be one thing. “It became an infestation. It enveloped the war and became the true focal point—to this day, it is still what allowed the Ministry to gain its foothold uninterrupted. People were focused elsewhere.”
That was fine, Lawry chided. That was normal. But what happened next in the story wasn’t, she thought, and August had just repeated it. “It was only when the itself appeared and vanquished the worms. They are ancient enemies.” She’d only seen them once, at the Battle of Cisterna, and she still counted herself lucky that the Elder had adapted a vessel. Nobody had ever survived seeing an Elder’s truest form.
“It was, to anyone persons understanding, the first time an Elder interacted directly with people for centuries. . Far kinder upon the earth than the first—do not ask now—but still magnitudes of importance beyond anything else.” Nadir’s expression was indecipherable. He looked a little bug-eyed, and August was clearly deeply troubled; the only thing keeping Lawry together was the steady rhythm of her pacing. She understood how August felt.
“August. You did not simply , to my understanding.” Lawry put a hand out to motion Nadir to be quiet. He had opened his mouth, and her immediate silencing left him resembling a tongue-tied frog. “The Elder in you as a vessel and the worms.” She paused, though August looked confused. “Do you understand how serious this is?! This has not been since- since,” Right. The book and its namesake. “The last .”
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Nadir glanced at August and asked the obvious question. “Like, the book?” Lawry laughed manically, the sound echoing through the great hall of her own design. She interrupted her pacing and walked toward the sword, its leather sheath dull and bidden by time. The enchantments were gone, she realized; the worms consumed the magic before being eradicated. She picked it up, and no rush of magic sparked inside her. Lawry wanted to be happy, but there was a deep craving inside her.
She wanted to be powerful again. And there was one thought, squelching and squirming its way through the confines of Lawry’s mind. She wanted revenge. “Yes. .” She didn’t mean for it to come out so harshly, “The book is named after something else. A… Magical disorder, I would say. An is a person, most commonly a spellcaster but one example has been seen to be non-magical, with a direct tie to an Elder.” They couldn’t understand the severity of this. Of course they couldn’t.
They didn’t even know about the house, Lawry thought. “Each Elder was once human. Their identities have been, respectively, in flux for ages upon ages. No, we do not understand how they what they - and yes, they are far more than human. An Intermenides,” She pointed the handle of the sword in August’s direction. She hadn’t drawn the sword in years, and now wasn’t the time. “Is the reflection. Presumably, there is currently an Intermenides for each Elder, and they have simply not been found.”
She continued. She couldn’t stop now, and neither August nor Nadir were about to shut her up. “You, August, are a reflection of the Elder of Two. Their dichotomy, their shadow- what they . You are not even .” Lawry didn’t want to know how August felt. Lawry thought that whatever emotions she was feeling would likely result in a fiery explosion, unkempt by August’s temper.
But Lawry was wrong. A stillness pervaded the room, catching dust midflight and freezing it. Light stopped its annoying, iridescent sparkling; nothing could force August to move, and everything stilled in her presence. It was only an instant, an imperceivable fraction of time, but for her, it was a secret concave of snakes burned at the stake. The feeling ran unbidden through her—August thought this might be what faith feels like—before the world caught up with her.
This felt good. Too good, and August didn’t care. “ said that the said, that they wanted me. And you,” Everything was clicking into place, a grand mural of life. August’s mind felt oddly quiet, a disparate deference from the roaring volcano, “But is there someway they could know about ?” It was the question everyone was asking. If whoever the mimic served was after August specifically, it was likely for this reason.
Lawry considered everything else. It could be that they’re after the spellcasters with aptitudes toward dealing with curses, to prevent another infestation should they spark a war. It’s possible they learned from history, Lawry thought, but it was also likely they learned she was an Intermenides in some way. Each option was bad; one was a practical declaration of war, and the other was a power-grab beyond modern record. This was too much.
“I do not know,” Lawry responded, “And I am not sure we really can. I am aware you have questions, and I promise we will go over them soon,” This conversation had taken up much of their morning. The sky was only growing greyer. “But I would like to get you two situated first. You chose to stay, but I cannot have you sleeping in the barn, even for a night.” She didn’t say the part about how much of a void the empty rooms left behind.
“Let us summarize. The mimic seems to be part of a new faction with a disdain for both the Bureau and the Ministry, based on what I understand. And they seemed to want myself, but mostly August, to join them. Though they may want us dead now, I presume, since we have shown ourselves more than an aptitude as a threat, after my display.” There was also the remaining possibility that they were attempting to kill August, either for being a witch or for being the Elder of Two’s Intermenides.
“Right.” Nadir’s voice was blank, and he was more than overwhelmed. He suddenly remembered the notebook and he began scrambling to write down everything he’d just learned, mostly so he didn’t forget it at a later point. August kicked him from under the table, and he muffled a yelp before meeting her eye. August looked supremely worried, and Nadir took a second to recognize the flood of emotions in their connection. He’d been ignoring it.
August gestured toward Lawry, who had distracted herself with the sword again. She was pretending not to notice the interaction. Nadir nodded in thanks to August before sliding out of his chair and stepping up to Lawry, “We’re here, you know? I mean, yeah, we have a lot to learn. But don’t think either of us are going anywhere, okay?” His voice was gentle. It was always gentle, and despite how efficiently it tore through Lawry’s defences, it also soothed the constant aching.
He hugged her, and she didn’t stop him. She fell into his embrace and ran her hand through his messy hair, curly and dirty with grease. Now that they were more stable, Lawry realized, they could begin to take care of themselves again. But despite their otherwise road-trodden appearances, Lawry could still smell subtle hints of pine tar and hazelnut in Nadir’s coat.
She pulled away, too soon for the both of them. Lawry flashed August a thankful smile, fully aware that she was the one to spur him on. Lawry knew from experience that she shared his emotions too, guaranteed by August and Nadir’s link. She wiped away tears. “I know, I am aware. There is still much to tell you both, and though I have told you everything, I will. In time.” She glanced at the stairway leading to the ground floor.
“I think, for now, we should move onto other matters. We can worry aplenty later, but we are all tired of running, and frankly? I am happy to be home. I hope it will serve as both of yours for a time, too.” She paused. The mood was heavy, oppressive beyond even Atlas’ strength, Lawry thought. “Plus, I want a shower. Honestly.”
That forced a laugh from August. “Yeah, I get what you mean.” Despite the exhaustion pervading the room, and despite the monstrously heavy topics—or at least Lawry considered them heavy—August and Nadir looked happy, or perhaps ready. And that’s what mattered. Lawry let August and Nadir discuss between themselves for a bit before finally breaking it up. It was time to introduce them to their new home.
It took hours for them to gain entrance to the house. Most of it was spent by Lawry: she explained that the wards would not hurt them, but they also couldn’t get through them, and they needed extensive testing. Each minor change to the wards was painstakingly tested, and August and Nadir spent the first few hours walking face first into an invisible wall. It was the primary issue Lawry attempted to remedy.
Lawry sat on her porch, on an old swinging bench, gently rocking back and forth while making the alterations. Eventually, she’d call out to August or Nadir to test, and then she would go quiet again. Eventually, when the duo started complaining that they were supremely bored, Lawry stood and fetched two wooden swords from a box on the porch. Nadir found it funny that she owned wooden swords, even if it was expected, and Lawry told them not to hurt themselves.
She sat down again and went right back to testing, though she kept an eye on August and Nadir. Neither knew how to use a sword of all things, but August didn’t want to lie and say she wasn’t interested. The idea of using a sword as a channel, like Lawry, appealed to her—and she also thought it was cool. She and Nadir clashed for about an hour, with no particular skills or rules, before Lawry told them that they were so bad it hurt to watch.
The testing continued, and the day grew darker and darker, despite it only being noon. The clouds were heavy and dark, and it was clear that it would rain soon. Eventually, the wards stopped being an invisible wall, and shifted into a strong compulsion to walk away. August tried to continue despite the compulsion, though she eventually ran away and threw up. Lawry explained she was fine-tuning the rules of the wards, especially since they had never been intended to let anyone else in.
Lawry felt more than a little silly. She’d tried to cut herself off completely, from anyone, when Nalini died. After only a few more minutes—the hardest work was done—August was able to freely step through the glowing wall of text, colors, symbols and ciphers. Nadir followed, the wall unseen to him, and they both stood on the porch. August trailed a hand over the porch railing, following the edge until she reached Lawry.
When August motioned to sit, Lawry shrugged, and so she joined in the gentle back-and-forth swinging. Lawry’s nose was bleeding and August reached over to wipe it away on her shirt, uncaring about the stain. Lawry grinned softly, “Well. We are done.” There was not much more to say, and so she looked past August and toward the plain of green grass. She looked toward the split in the trees where her driveway winded, a labyrinth of stones in a maze of fire. The wind blew loudly, and the fiery leaves shook, the tree branches washing away years upon years of ages from their shoulder. They would rest soon, like things do in winter, and they would not wake up as the same tree again when spring came.
Lawry blinked away the grey light and swath of color. It was a strangely liminal sight: there were no shadows cast by the intimidating house, despite its height, due to the high-noon sunn. She shivered. “Shall we go inside?” Lawry proffered, glancing to August and then Nadir, who sat on the stairs to the porch. The three of them stood silently, the closing note to the tune of the creaking weathervane—humming its storm-song—before dusting themselves off.
“I just want to check,” Nadir asked, hovering near the tall oak entrance. The door had a beautiful stained glass mosaic of an eye, both a thousand shapes and a thousand colors, though there were blinds pulled shut behind the window. “No more running? This is,” He glanced upward at the roof of the porch. There were more than a few spiderwebs. “Our home now? Or as close to a home as we can get?” He wondered if they’d be able to get their old things.
Lawry’s lips felt tight. “Only if you wish for it to be,” She wanted to say more, to tell them it’d mean the world if they stayed. She wished to explain how empty the home felt with nobody else around, and that it was never a place intended to grow old alone. The Fairburn Estate was never Lawry’s, not until every last Fairburn died; but she couldn’t get the words out. Instead, the only noise she made was the clinking of her keyring. She slipped the key into the doorknob and turned.
It clicked once, then twice, and Lawry pulled the mosaic-dressed door open. The interior would have been a pitch black, darker than any cave, if not for the dull light streaming in from outside. It was a dark hall, dressed in reminders from an age long gone; August swallowed, hard. The place was intimidating, and every inch of the house felt subsumed by age. A lurking thought in the back of her mind, though she couldn’t recognzie where it came from, told her that the house was older than the trees surrounding it.
Lawry hit a lightswitch, and the feeling faded. They were in a main hall with a large closet on their left and a respectable staircase on the right. It went up flight by flight and August assumed it went to the third floor.The hallway opened up at the end into a sitting room with a TV—though clearly a few years old—along with several plush chairs and couches. A dark oak coffee table spanned the entire room, and there was a gentle red rug under the seating.
It was surprisingly clean for a room that was undisturbed for months, though very dusty. Lawry took her home in, inch by inch. She’d forgot what it looked like in the last few stressful months, and it was still exactly as she’d left it. Lawry grimanced upon realizing her kitchen would be full of moldy fruits, vegetables and breads. She hadn’t thrown them away before leaving because she never intended to be gone for so long.
“I suppose I should do some cleaning. You two are free to look around,” She paused, entirely ready to set rules, “Though I have a few things to say. None of the floors are off limits, and you’re free to take whatever rooms you want, but I urge you to stay out of my personal quarters, the laboratory and the attic. My room is private, and the other two have fragile equipment.” Her voice was gentle. They couldn’t get into the laboratory anyway, and Lawry knew they would never intentionally break something.
She was already relaxing in the familiar environment. Her shoulders felt looser, and it allowed the stress to shine through in a pervading soreness. Nadir and August nodded after her explanation and they began to look around in silent awe. Lawry shut the door behind them, locked it, and then opened the closet. There was a large void for more coats and shoes, though Lawry instead put the keys on a small shelf inside the closet before again losing it.
“You two are free to go wherever you want in the house, on the property, and in town. I am not your mother, though I do think it is best to stay inside for a while, with what the mimic said. We can go out for supplies soon.” Despite the otherwise familiar home, Lawry still felt anxious. She wanted it to be a home for August and Nadir, too, and she didn’t want to trap them on the property.
But the duo thought her plan made sense. It might not be safe, and when the conversation seemed at an end, Lawry left to begin cleaning up. She started with the kitchen, walking through the sitting room, and immediately scrunched her nose at the acrid smell of mold. Her assumption was correct, and August and Nadir chose to avoid the room until it was cleaner.
They ultimately decided that grabbing their bags was the best option. With how likely it seemed that it would rain, they didn’t want their clothes getting soaked. They informed Lawry, actively intruding upon her ritual of lemony cleaning spray and aggressive attack upon the counters with her sponge—August found the sight ridiculous—and Lawry simply told them to go ahead. She followed them out with a large trash bag, walking far past the driveway and toward an outcropping in the woods. It was a compost pile.
“It’s a good thing we found a more solid place to stay before winter.” Nadir commented, watching Lawry trampse across the perfectly circular plain. Nadir wasn’t sure precisely how he knew it was a perfect circle, butt he thought still lurked. He slipped his hands into his coat pockets and shivered, the biting wind nipping at his neck. He and August were meandering toward the barn, choosing to spend a little time outside before it inevitably raised.
Plus, it would give Lawry time to clean up. She waved while traipsing by, heading back into the house. “Yeah. Probably.” August’s voice was silky, “We have continue somewhere off southwest, but eventually we’d end up running in circles.” She didn’t mind the conversation. The chill of certainty, of having a place to be, was beginning to seep through their bones. They were both beginning to reckon with the fact that there’d be no more running, and she glanced over her shoulder toward the main house.
It was still a luminescent inferno: wiry inscriptions floated in a semi-sphere, colluding and dealing with every other stepping stone in the ward. She couldn’t imagine not being able to see it, and especially not attempting to alter it without being able to see it. August hadn’t told Lawry how impressive she’d found that, and she suddenly desperately wanted to. The weathervane spun in circles, spurred to constant life by the harsh caresses of a loving wind.
“Do you think she’s going to be okay?” August asked Nadir, though she still looked over her shoulder. Her foot met the tire tracks, embedded into the med, and Nadir caught her so she didn’t trip. Her boot made a disquieting squelching sound, embedded into the half-frozen mud, before coming free. It wasn’t nearly as bad as yesterday, August knew that—but it meant it was already growing much colder.
“Who? Lawry?” Nadir mumbled, and August hummed in affirmation. They reached the barn doors and Nadir pulled them open, letting his eyes scan the interior, unable to prevent the new habit, even if it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. He considered the question for a moment before answering, “Yeah. I mean, I think so. I think we should trust her if she says she’s okay, and we’re going to be here if she’s not, anyway.”
“That’s fair,” August stepped into the elevated workshop area and scraped the mud off her boot on a floorboard. “At least we don’t have to pay rent, right?” The joke fell flat. Neither of them felt like laughing; the feeling of steadiness was welcomed, but it also lended itself to a pervading melancholy. Every unspoken word and feeling crept into their ears and hummed like birdsong, and August was again reminded of summer.
She bit her tongue and focused on climbing the stairs toward the loft, her and Nadir’s steps matching the wistful tune of the tree branches blowing in the wind. They creaked, step by step, until they were submerged in the gentle familiarity of the loft. They’d only slept one night there, but after months on the run, one was more than enough to feel familiar.
They split up and began gathering their things, though Nadir started by dismantling the coat and folding the moth-bitten blankets. August gathered her and Nadir’s things, picking away at the disparate mess, and after only a few minutes they were ready to leave. August hoisted Lawry’s backpack onto her shoulder and picked up the other two, while Nadir took the bookbag and blankets. As they moved down, Nadir paused at the truck to store the blankets, and they swiftly moved on.
Nadir stopped in front of the main door, glancing between the stained glass eye and August. It made him uncomfortable, and the window emanated an age even older than the house. August tilted her head in confusion before the resounding sensation of worry spread through the connection, “Oh, uh, it’s not enchanted. If that’s what you’re wondering. Pretty sure it’s just a normal door.” Her voice was gentle, though she wasn’t entirely sure herself. August adjusted the bags, their weight growing monstrous, and Nadir shrugged. He opened the door and they slipped inside, meeting Lawry near the entrance. She was dusting.
“Apologies. For the mess, and everything.” Lawry didn’t look to them when speaking. She was too busy leaning on her tiptoes, attempting to dust the top of picture frames. Nadir hadn’t paid attention to them when they first entered, but along the stairs were plaques denoting different people, with various oil paintings and pictures highlighting each striking figure. The names all shared an identical last name, Fairburn, except for one plaque at the very bottom of the stairs. Its plaque read .
Nadir wandered closer and scanned the disparate paintings before running his hand over a plaque, the only one at equal height to Lawry’s, and glanced at the name. and taking in the painting. Gently, Lawry grabbed his wrist and met his eye. Nadir could see the tight-lipped hurt, even if the cold grey of her eyes failed to explain the emotion. He pulled his hand away from the plaque and August stepped up. She finished storing the backpacks in the closet.
“Nothing to worry about,” August answered, and Nadir had to figure out what she was replying to. That moment had felt much longer than it was, and Lawry’s apology had already faded. August examined the painting with them, tracing woman’s long white hair. It was stark, especially for her otherwise young appearance, and August assumed it must have been natural from birth.
The woman wore a flowing green coat, buttoned shut, and it helped frame her broad shoulders. Her face was like a marble sculpture, the serene stillness captured forever in the painting. Her eyes had heavy crow’s feet, and her eyes were a stark blue. , August read the name and examined its equality with Lawry’s plaque. There was only one person this could be.
“This is her, isn’t it?” August asked, gently rubbing Lawry’s back. She wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded. Despite the sadness, aching and somehow fresh even years later, the sight always made Lawry happier. Despite the tumultuous times they had met, and her death, Lawry wasn’t beginning to regret it.
“Yeah. Yes, it is,” She leaned into August’s touch and sighed. She set the duster on a small table near the entrance, “Should we begin the tour, then?” She preferred to introduce them personally, and despite Lawry telling them they could go wherever, she wanted to see their faces upon reaching the attic.
“Sure,” August responded, stepping away from Lawry and pecking annoyingly at Nadir’s shoulder, a starling begging for its morning worm. Lawry laughed, and eventually Nadir gave up, already understanding what August wanted. He slipped the trenchcoat off—immediately the soreness made itself evident—and she stored it in the closet, along with her own leather jacket.
August rolled her shoulders before gently looping her arms around Nadir, enveloping him in a hug from behind. She hung from his shoulders, a cape dragging him to earth, and she only pulled away when they began to topple over. Lawry rolled her eyes dramatically, though she wasn’t moving to disguise the wide grin.
“Alright, so,” Lawry began to step up the stairs. They were all wearing shoes still, but she’d be cleaning anyway, and Lawry thought she should mop anyway. “The second floor is almost entirely bedrooms. I assumed we should start here so you two may each pick a room,” August and Nadir followed her, trailing their hands along the wooden railing, “Though there are other rooms on the top floor, they’ve been repurposed. We can move each of you into whichever room you like, but you need somewhere to sleep for the first few nights.”
Lawry’s room was also on the second floor, and though they could eventually choose the spare room on the third floor or the attic, the only remaining furnished bedrooms were on the second floor. It also had the only non-master bedroom shower, and they all dearly missed that luxury. She led them through the second floor, which began with a hall and a door on the left—the master bedroom—but eventually opened up into a sitting space that connected three more rooms. Two were bedrooms and the third was a repurposed mixture of storage and sewing room.
“Would you like to see each room?” Lawry asked, and though August and Nadir grinned rabidly, hungry wolves after a final kill, she knew they were her friends. The first ones Lawry wanted to stick around in a long time. She opened the first room, a rather plain bedroom though clearly expensive. The furniture was made of a beautiful willow wood, and the bedroom would have been bright—if the blinds weren’t drawn. August particularly liked the bookshelves and reading nook, so she instantly claimed it.
Nadir didn’t mind, and it wasn’t up to August, so she moved onto the next bedroom. It was largely similar, though it came with a desk instead of a reading nook. Nadir claimed it. “Y’know, Lawry, are all the rooms updated with modern wiring and stuff?” Nadir asked. He’d knelt down to peer under the desk and there was a modern outlet, along with every room having overhead lights.
Lawry nodded. “Mhm. I have a decent income, and I refurbished the house quite a few years ago, when the barn was built. I needed a space to work, so I had it built, and the house was growing too antiquated from my wants.” Lawry considered how much to tell them of her work. It wasn’t secretive, but it was complicated, and required more history on the magical world.
She primarily worked by commission to develop and research any part of magic or the magical world her clients wished. She’d then be paid in Nacrine—an iridescent, pearly coinage—that she would exchange through the Ministry or auction off privately. It wasn’t the most consistent work, but since Lawry mostly needed to pay for maintenance, her month-to-month expenditure remained low.
“Hell yeah,” Nadir answered, and they moved on. They’d both picked rooms, so they moved onto the third floor. Lawry decided they’d reconvene on the first floor and decide what to do from there. Lawry assumed she’d continue cleaning and August and Nadir would likely unpack, take a shower or head into town. They continued climbing the stairwell and their steps quieted by the moment.
The sound was muffled by the thousands of books. The third floor was largely composed of a library, relatively large though still modest. August adored it, though she noticed the walls of wards around some sections of the shelves. There was a door on one end, too, that was heavily warded. The other door was clean of any magic, however. August asked about the wards; they had begun to fascinate her. The wards enshrining the house were beautiful, she thought, and these ones were no different.
“Yes, well, some texts can be quite dangerous. Or they might be cursed, and therefore need to be contained. The warded door leads to the laboratory—it has a supreme number of fallible and dangerous equipment, so I would like to keep both of you away for now.” She’d let the wards allow them entrance after their education was furthered.
Lawry was letting herself get excited. She hadn’t realized she wanted to teach them, but she also considered it was simply a want to have people to talk about her true life with. “This is beautiful, Lawry,” Nadir stated. He was awe-struck, looking between each shelf and trailing his fingers along the earthen spine of each book.
“If you think this is lovely, may I introduce you to my favorite room?” Lawry chided, a smug grin enveloping her features until she was more covetous than a magpie. She opened the unwarded door and stepped into the sewing room—a thousand projects still in work—before pulling down the attic hatch. She let Nadir climb up first, then August, and she followed last.
August let herself breathe. It was an attic, not a monster, and Lawry was clearly excited to show them what lay at the top of the house, though August’s experiences with attics had never been positive. They were always dark, dusty, cold and full of cobwebs. Nadir gasped above her, and she redoubled her effort to push away the doubt. It was banished by the sight at the top.
Lawry climbed up with them and her grin could have burned a thousand stars. She’d expected a grand reaction from August and Nadir, but they were completely dumbfounded. They glanced between the velvety purple silk and the deep black furniture that filled the room. There was a large desk, made of pure ebony, with an astrolabe and other equipment resting on top.
And the ceiling was a mess of paint and stars, an accurate chart of the night sky—during summer, that is. Behind the desk, which sat at one end of the room, was a colossal stained glass mural of the celestial bodies. The sunlight streamed in and made the silk dance with a thousand colors, burning like a forest fire.
“It’s beautiful.” Nadir muttered, stepping over a purple pillow on the ground. It felt like a shrine; the attic was the type of room to make you feel like an ant under the presence of something grander. Lawry led them to another window, though it lacked any stained glass, before pulling it open and climbing through.
August and Nadir followed her onto a balcony. There was a rocking chair on one side, facing outward, and a folded up telescope on the other side. Every concern August had about the attic was now cast aside, abandoned and wretching in its final moments. The trio looked out, past the balcony and toward the endless expanse of trees.
They shook in the wind, an infernal display of beautiful Autumn reds and oranges. “Amazing, is it not? The view shocked me just as much as you two the first time I came up here. The interior was not like that when I first arrived, though. It used to be the kids room.” Lawry paused. Her voice was quiet, silenced under the force of the impressive view. “The kids died young. You won’t find their paintings anywhere.” It was a sad truth. Lawry didn’t usually like kids, but the Fairburn twins had been sweet beyond belief.
She redecorated it in a manic delve after Nalini’s death. Lawry had no regrets, it was her house now and not the Fairburn’s. She slipped into the rocking chair. August leaned forward on the railing, taking in the endless expanse of trees. Nadir always felt miniscule when viewing nature from above; it could swallow him whole, if it wanted, and nobody would know. It’s why he became a park ranger in the first place.
Lawry broke the silence. “I am going to stay here a while longer. You two should familiarize yourself with the rest of the house. Everything should be fully up to date—I am not some like you two seem to have gathered.” She wet her lips. “Familiarize yourself with the home. There are showers, and we all need one. There is a washer and dryer in the basement, additionally,” When august gave her a look of utter disbelief at the fact that Lawry did indeed use technology, Lawry snorted. “Take care of yourselves. I will begin cleaning again soon.”
The afternoon passed slowly. August and Nadir brought their things to their rooms, though they still didn’t feel steady enough to unpack. Lawry eventually got back to cleaning, and they all showered and dressed in clean clothes. The house had been freed of the musty smell, and they were clean, truly clean, for the first time in months. They’d rubbed their skin so raw they felt like newborn babes.
Eventually, the trio reconvened to discuss a foray into town, primarily for food. Nadir had coured every inch of the kitchen, obsessed with the large island, beautiful gas stove and expensive cookware. Lawry was glad it’d get some use; Nalini fancied herself a cook, but Lawry never put much effort into it.
August was begging for Nadir to make chicken noodle soup when their conversation was interrupted. There was the sound of a car door slamming shut from outside, followed by the beep sound of the car locking. Lawry had decided to keep her revolver on her, even after changing, so she slipped it from its home in her waistband.
She gestured for August and Nadir to stay down, though they still followed her to the front door. Lawry peered between the front door’s blinds and examined the sight. There was a black SUV stopped a few feet from her wards, and just in front was a tall, pale man. His black windbreaker shimmered in the afternoon soon, and its ministry chevrons glimmered brightly. With practiced ease, he rolled up his sleeves. His stark blue eyes met Lawry’s before she instantly let go of the blinds, letting them obscure her.
The Ministry. And worse, she recognized him.
