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Chapter Text

Esther could feel Ricky’s leg bouncing up and down the entire way to the restaurant. She’d wanted to take a cab, but he’d insisted on the subway, even though it was going to take over an hour to get there. He was wearing a suit Esther honestly hadn’t known he that he owned. The nerves of going to the dinner coupled with Esther’s reaction to seeing him buttoned into a blazer were doing on number on her stomach, which didn’t bode well for dinner.

Once they got off the train, Ricky traded bouncing his leg for a death grip on Esther’s hand. Esther would’ve picked probably anywhere else to go than a ridiculously fancy Korean steakhouse, in Midtown of all places, but Ricky had been insistent that Anna pick the restaurant, and Esther was trying hard not to intervene. And then, waiting at a crosswalk half a block away from restaurant, the sound of stilettos clicked towards them and Ricky spun around.

“Ricky!” said a woman who Esther knew must be Anna, but Jesus, how was she so much more stunning than she was in the pictures? “I thought that was you.”

 
“Yeah, hi.” Ricky dropped Esther’s hand as Anna swept him into a hug, and when she let go he just studied her, a little bit confused, and didn’t pick it back up. 

After what felt like just a beat too long, Anna turned to look at Esther and held out her own hand. “You must be Esther. It’s so nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” Esther said, without deciding whether or not she meant it. 

The restaurant was just as put together as Anna was. There was her long, burgundy dress against the brown leather chairs, and the waterfall of her hair alongside the ridiculously expensive bottle of red wine she ordered without a second thought. She would have been as stunning and unapproachable as the décor, too, except for the fact that, as the stilted catching up began, there were things about her mannerisms and the way she moved that reminded Esther of Miya. She was a part of the scenery, something to be endured, until she tilted her head to the left when she smiled or wrinkled her nose when the waiter surprised her. 

“I know Ricky will always be fighting fires, but what do you do?” Anna asked Esther once their orders were finally in. Ricky had asked for the first thing on the menu that had the word chicken in it and he was already on his third glass of water. 

“I work for the public library,” Esther said, which always felt like the flimsiest of lies. This time, though, she had a followup: “But Ricky’s not a firefighter anymore. He started a nonprofit a few years ago and he runs that full time.” 

Anna looked genuinely surprised. Esther knew the feeling; when he’d first brought up Helping Hands in the month after the fight at Times Square, it had taken her and everyone else they knew plenty of convincing. Anna’s was tinged with disbelief, though, this sense that if Ricky had stayed a firefighter there would have been a “just” in front of it. If there was one thing that Esther was absolutely certain of, it was that Ricky Matsui wasn’t just anything. 

When Anna asked Ricky if that was true, he shrugged. “Yeah. It started out just helping with the city’s unhoused population, but now we do after school programs with local businesses so kids have a safe place to spend time in the afternoons.” 

Despite how nervous Ricky had been outside the restaurant, he was calm now that Anna was in front of him. It was a strange kind of calm, almost like he was acting less clued into the conversation than he usually was, almost like he was trying to get himself underestimated. And he wasn’t asking any of the questions he’d talked about with Esther when they’d finally sat on the couch and decided to have this meeting before they brought Miya into things, to figure out what was going on with Anna, why now, what was different this time. He let Anna talk about her apartment search, and how much of a pain moving was, and how she was so excited for there to be snow in New York again, and then when she polished off her glass of wine and said, “I really moved here so I could help run the new campus they’re building over in Queens, but they hit a snag in construction, so they have me working on some other acquisitions,” he put a hand on Esther’s leg and squeezed. Without it, Esther wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to keep her mouth shut.

It wasn’t until after they’d finished their entrees and Esther had been forced to tell an awkward, humorless version of the story of how she and Ricky started dating that Anna got up to go to the bathroom. Esther turned to Ricky, eyes wide, and said, “She works for fucking Gladiator?” 

“She didn’t when she first moved to San Francisco,” he whispered, like she could hear them from all the way across the restaurant. “She applied to some tech startup, and then when we were still talking pretty regularly she was moving jobs all the time, like getting promotions and using that to find a new job somewhere else. I stopped asking when she stopped calling.” 

“You didn’t think to look her up or anything?” Esther hissed. 

Ricky picked his napkin up out of his lap and tossed it on the table. “Of course I didn’t. You were there the entire time I was freaking out about setting up this dinner. If I’d looked her up, you would’ve noticed.” 

“That’s fair,” Esther conceded, because she was freaking out, not being unreasonable. “She can’t be alone with Miya, though.” 

“It’s more complicated than that,” said Ricky, but before Esther could ask how Anna was on her way back to the table in her beautiful dress that Esther was now sure was worth at least two month’s rent. 

And, it seemed that once Anna had ordered a scoop of sorbet for dessert, she thought it was time to talk about Miya. “Tell me about her,” she asked Ricky, leaning forward with her chin in her hand. “I know the basic stuff, but what about the everyday? What unit is she on in school? What kind of books should I be buying her?”

 
“She’s really into knights right now,” Ricky said, “but she’s over the Round Table. She thinks that stuff is boring. Esther taught her what an aristocracy is, and she’s on this kick where she, like, thinks knights should work for people with day jobs and not kings or queens, so it’s really easy to get her to sweep up after dinner. Well, to start sweeping up. The broom becomes a sword pretty fast and then it’s kind of game over on cleaning.” 

Esther watched Anna’s body language change a little. She shifted away ever so slightly, which didn’t strike Esther as being a recoil. It was almost exactly opposite, like she was adopting a posture of genuine interest. But when Ricky started talking about the rock project Miya had completed kicking and screaming the month before, Anna leaned right back in, and the facade was back. 

“They’re on a local wildlife unit now, which is much more up her alley. My friend Kingston’s parents sometimes watch her, and she loves birdwatching with them. Her backpack is full of seeds, it’s a nightmare.” 

Ricky paused, took a breath to move onto the next thing, and Esther knew she could’ve let him keep talking. She should’ve. Miya was his favorite topic, and Anna had asked, and it was the whole point they’d schlepped down to this uncomfortably fancy restaurant on a Thursday night. But instead, she closed her eyes and asked, “Why now?” 

“Excuse me?” Anna asked. It was the politest hit Esther had ever taken. 

“I just- before knights, it was sea turtles, and before that it was astronauts. I’ve only been in her life for three years, but she’s been cool and weird and wonderful the entire time. Why are you asking about her now when you had plenty of time before?”

Anna pursed her lips. She had a bit of sorbet on the corner of her mouth, and she took a second to wipe it off with one delicate finger. “I wish I could explain it. I’m still- I don’t see a child fitting into my life very well, not every day, but I’d like to get to know her. The opportunity to move back to New York helped me figure that out.”

 
“We can work out a time for all of us to meet,” Ricky said slowly, carefully, and Esther felt herself speaking before she’d fully registered the delicate balance he was trying to strike. 

“Make sure you come with a better answer for that question before that happens, though.” 

Anna didn’t look at Esther when she smiled and said, “That sounds great. I know it’s late, you two should get home. I can stay and cover the bill.” 

Ricky didn’t argue. He stood up and gave Anna a quick hug, guided Esther out of the restaurant with a hand on the small of her back. He waited until they were a block away to turn to her and say, finally, “That wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever said.” 

“Smartest?” Esther spluttered. “I wasn’t trying to be smart. I was trying to figure out-” 

“She’s Miya’s mom, Esther. And sure, she works for Gladiator, and something was off about her all night, but I’m not convinced that this isn’t going to be messed up in a normal way. Like, Unsleeping City aside, we don’t have a formal custody agreement. If we piss her off, she could show up with money and lawyers and get as much time as she wants.” 

Esther felt her heart sink into her stomach. “Do you think that’s going to happen?” 

“If this was Anna from seven years ago? No,” Ricky said. He was walking faster and faster, and Esther could feel herself start struggling to keep up. “That felt like a woman I don’t know. Or, not exactly like that. She felt like if someone I know had all their memories wiped and they were being really polite about pretending to remember who I was. But none of that matters, because we’re going to talk to Miya about this, and, if she wants, we’re going to do some kind of family day out where Anna pays for the American Girl Doll experience or whatever, and we’ll go from there. Because this isn’t about whatever crazy thing is going on with the city, or dreams, it’s about Miya getting to know someone who cares about her. Or who says they do. Or, I don’t know, I guess it’s up to her.”

They practically ran the next few blocks, until Ricky realized that Esther was several feet behind him and had no way of catching up. He stopped dead, and then, in one fluid motion, ripped off his blazer and tossed it onto the ground. Then he picked it up, brushed it off, and offered it to someone walking by. They were confused, but it was a nice jacket, and Ricky was Mr. March, so of course they left the interaction feeling better than when they’d entered it, and Ricky still looked like he was a second from going over the edge.

And Esther, because she loved him, because she loved his kid, took that opportunity to ask the exact wrong question, the one that she’d been sitting with since Anna had sent that first text a few weeks ago: “Why did she leave in the first place?” 

At first it had felt too personal to ask about. It was Ricky’s tragedy, something he had to get over, and Esther was too busy having her first experiences with sorrow to really contemplate someone else’s. And then, when that was over, he was ridiculously open and honest about everything else. All his other emotions, but also the how and the when of everything that had happened with Anna. Exactly what he’d been doing and how he’d explained it to Miya once she was old enough to understand. They’d talked about it so much that it had become a little bit of a joke, how she left the yearbook version of Ricky instead of the real one, but they’d always been talking about why Anna had left Ricky, why she’d left the city. Never why she’d left Miya.

Now, though, Ricky took two steps back and sat down heavily on someone’s stoop. He unbuttoned his shirt, and then he took that off, too, until he was in his undershirt, and then he sighed. “I think she was lonely. I mean, she wasn’t ready to be a mom, or didn’t want to be one at all, but for a while she convinced herself that wasn’t true. And maybe if I’d been the right person, or even if there had been any person that she felt like…” his hands clenched into fists. “We were both really alone, and we couldn’t figure out how to be there for each other, so she left and I stuck it out until I found people.” 

Esther lowered herself onto the stoop next to him and said, “Sweetheart, I’m really sorry.” 

“I’m not,” Ricky said before Esther could keep going. “The city came through for me. But when I saw her… When I had JJ over on Thanksgiving, she’s who he reminded me of. I couldn’t pinpoint it until I saw her again, but he’s that same kind of lonely, and scared.” 

“I’ll talk to JJ,” Esther said, and then, “Let’s go home.” 

Ricky let out a breath and asked, “Can we walk?”

“Over the bridge?” 

“Yeah. I don’t think I can sit on a train right now.” 

“If I get tired,” Esther said instead of yes, “you’re carrying me.” 

Ricky didn’t even dignify that with a response, just stood up from the stoop and started down the street. They had plenty of time to talk about what to do about Anna, how and when to talk to Miya, all of it. There were miles and miles before they got to the Chantry, and they could take their time because Sofie and Emiko were having a girls’ night, the people Ricky had found and let in and given to Miya. They’d figure it out. Everything was going to be fine. 

On the second Thursday back at school after Thanksgiving, Sofia showed up to get Miya instead of Pete. She was just as impressive to Miya’s classmates, and twice as glamorous, with her big hair and tall, loud shoes. The first thing she talked about was how much she’d begged to be able to hang out with Miya after school, like there were a bunch of adults fighting over her and she emerged bloody and victorious to come to the playground and walk Miya home. Really the only problem with the whole situation was that it meant Miya wouldn’t get to see Dee, and tell them all about what had happened at the parade. 

It had been freaking her out a little, remembering that day, and not just because of everything that had happened with her dad. Now that she’d had time to think about it, she was sure that feeling she’d had watching the balloons was some kind of magic. Miya had read enough stories to know that it wasn’t smart to tell her parents. Not because she didn’t trust them, but because that wasn’t how magic worked, or at least not in books. But Dee was young, and smart, and they could help figure it out. She wasn’t stupid—she’d practiced how to do it carefully so nobody thought she was crazy or told anyone they shouldn’t—but she’d been thinking about Thanksgiving over and over. She couldn’t stop remembering what her dad has said about magic protecting people, and the white-hot feeling she’d had before Jess led her away from the barricade.

But Sofia said they were going to the park and then for pizza, which, again, would’ve been perfect any other day of the week. Except Thursdays meant that Dee was probably at Uncommon Knowledge and had no clue where Miya was. “Is Pete not coming?” 

Sofia put a hand over her heart and said, “Ow! Am I not good enough for you?” 

“I had plans at the bookstore,” Miya explained. It was best to be honest with Sofia, because she could turn even the tiniest lie or joke into something huge and hilarious, and then Miya would be laughing too hard to explain what she actually meant. Also, Sofia understood everything. Miya could count on one hand the number of times she’d said no, even to truly awful ideas. Once she’d let Miya put a whole bunch of grapes into the microwave, which had been really bad. They’d exploded one by one, like evil popcorn, and they’d spent the rest of the night dealing with the mess. 

“Well, if you have plans, they’re probably postponed since Pete’s not working today,” Sofia said. She held out a hand for Miya’s backpack, and she passed it over. 

If Pete wasn’t working, and Z wasn’t working, that meant Dee was stuck at the salon with their mom and Miya couldn’t see them anyways. “Oh. I was going to tell my friend something, but it can wait.” 

“You can’t call this friend?” 

“I don’t have a phone. Or know their phone number.” 

Sofia tapped her bottom lip with a bright red nail. “What’s their name? We might be able to check the Yellow Pages.” 

This question stumped Miya for more than one reason: “I don’t know about any yellow pages, and I don’t know Dee’s whole name.” 

“Is D short for something? There’s a Danielle in your class, right?” 

“I think Dee is the first letter of their last name. And they don’t go to my school.” 

Sofia paused to get Miya’s hat out of her bag and hand it to her. Then she put on her own, which had the biggest pom-pom Miya had ever seen. “This friend sounds very mysterious. What are you going to tell them?” 

Even though Miya knew her Aunt Sofie was the greatest, and that she always understood, she found that she didn’t really want to say. It felt like it would get complicated, and Miya really needed it to stay simple so she could try her hardest to figure it out. So she said, “It’s kind of a secret.” 

“Oh, okay,” Sofia said. “Is it about your mom? Because I know about that. Esther explained it in case you need someone to talk to who’s not a parental figure.” 

Miya knew that already. Her dad and Esther had sat her down on the couch and had a very serious and awkward conversation about the fact that Miya’s mom had moved back to the city and wanted to see her. It was clear they’d been ready for her to have big feelings about it, and logically it made sense why. People always got weird when Miya’s mom came up. But it was fine. Miya didn’t remember Anna, and didn’t feel like she was missing anything. She could meet her or she could not meet her, and feel normal either way. Those were the only feelings Miya had about the whole thing, she’d made sure of it.

She shrugged at Sofia and said, “It's not about her.” 

That was the first moment that Miya felt like Sofia directed all her attention towards the conversation. “What’s it about, then?” 

“That’s not how secrets work,” Miya explained.

“It is, actually. You just can’t tell a lot of people about them. I'm not a lot of people, though, I’m just one person.” 

“If I tell you it might go away,” Miya huffed. She jumped up and down twice, because she was getting itchy and frustrated with the effort of trying to figure things out on her own. “It’s really hard having an uncle who’s Santa and being friends with a magic cat you can never tell anyone about, especially because magic doesn’t make any sense and no one will explain it to me.”

They were at the park, now, and this was usually the part where Sofia would rate the cool jumps Miya did off the swings or chase her around the jungle gym and always win because she was the fastest person in the world. Instead of that, though, she was staring at Miya with this look in her eye that was a lot confused and just a little bit sad. 

“Are you on magic now, then, instead of swords?” Sofie asked.

“No!” Miya said, but then she thought maybe she’d spoken too soon, and she added, “Well, it’s both. I think maybe you can do both.”

If Miya was going to talk to any adult about this, it would’ve been Sofia. She always understood everything, and she didn’t take things too seriously. So it was a surprise when she crouched down to be on Miya’s level and said, “Listen, magic is really complicated. And it has a lot of consequences that we don’t always see because it seems so great. You know I’d never usually say this, but wait until you’re older, okay? It’s safer.” 

It also meant that Miya couldn’t tell Sofia. She couldn’t tell anyone, not even Dee. So she nodded and said, “Okay,” but she kept her fingers crossed in her pocket so it wasn’t a total lie.
Then Sofia stood up. She took off her gloves and put them in her purse. "Do you want to play monster chase or what?" 

Miya always wanted to play monster chase, even when she’d just resigned herself to keeping a secret forever. It was always fun to run and hide and be caught by her aunt and carried back into the tube slide--her cave--to be eaten. It was even more fun to escape and start the whole thing over again, and to keep doing it until the sun was setting and she was so tired and hungry, especially because there was pizza to be had right around the corner, her dad and Esther already waiting at a table with an order of garlic knots. 

Ricky was hanging out with Iga and JJ in the dream version of the Met, listening to JJ talk about all the things he had in his bag of holding. Iga had a lot of opinions on art, and she kept asking to take a look at things, so Ricky was mostly giving polite nods while JJ fished things out of the depths of his bag. “My fucking grandma is gonna be so psyched,” JJ kept saying, and that was something Ricky could absolutely get behind. There was no trace of loneliness or hollow static in this version of JJ, and it felt like it healed the dream world just a little bit.

Then Pete came sprinting up and demanding Ricky follow him to the bathroom, and Ricky started to wonder if maybe the dream world wasn’t falling apart after all. 

“Is everything okay?” Ricky asked as he jogged behind Pete. 

Pete was in a full sprint, and far too winded to answer. He wheezed out something about Sofia and an emergency and a drug toilet, which Ricky was sure he heard wrong. Like in every museum, the bathroom was farther away than it had any right to be, and when they got there Ricky knocked on the door without bothering to wait for Pete, who was a full flight of stairs behind him. 

“Sofia?” he called out. “It’s Ricky. Is it okay if I come in?” 

Sofia’s voice came back watery when she said, “Yes, please.” 

The drug toilet was not a misunderstanding, but it was also barely on Ricky’s radar given that Sofia was sitting on the floor holding a box of Sour Patch Kids, mascara streaking down her cheeks. Ricky crouched next to her and put a hand gently on her shoulder. “What’s up?” 

“This isn’t really a box of Sour Patch Kids,” she said, leaning into Ricky’s hand without looking at him. “It’s a pregnancy test, because when your husband is dead and you’re having sex with his ghost it’s hard to consider protection a priority, and I’m just- Kingston was going to see him, and I had to know because I couldn’t go see him and not tell him, but I couldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure, and now I’m-”

Pete burst through the door and skidded to a stop on the tile. “You run so fucking fast,” he choked out, hands on his knees.

“You did this before, right?” Sofia asked Ricky, finally turning her face up towards his, and she was right. He did recognize himself in her expression, the panic and the disbelief and the tiny bit of possibility. “How?”

It had been so long since Ricky had thought about Anna throwing up the morning of her big Stats exam, the pregnancy test he’d bought on a whim along with cold and flu medicine at the Duane Reade, the phone call he’d had with Emiko after it came back positive. He told Sofia, “One day at a time.” 

Pete let out a rueful laugh, and shared a meaningful look with the toilet. 

Sofia set the candy on the floor and let Ricky help her up. He pulled her right into a hug, let her rub her hands up and down his back because the only way Sofia would accept comfort was when she thought she was the one giving it. “It’s really scary,” she said into his shoulder. “I wish I didn’t have to do it alone.” 

“It sucks that Dale’s not here,” Ricky said, because it was the truth. 

“It sucks so fucking much,” agreed Sofia. 

“Do you want to tell him?” Pete asked from over by the door. “Shit. I didn’t realize how complicated that question was until I asked it.”

The noise Sofia made was somewhere in between a laugh and a sob. “Of course I do. But I also want him to enjoy heaven, and I want to bring him back to life so this kid can know how fucking amazing he is, and I want him to have been here while I took this test, which are obviously all impossible things. But all I seem to want right now are impossible things, so I guess keep ‘em coming.”

Pete took a step closer, held out his hands. “I feel like you kind of need to prioritize yourself in this moment, so. Want whatever you want. If you don’t know if you can tell Dale right now, don’t tell him.”

“I mean, I know I’ll tell him eventually,” Sofia said, and it was with such a bone deep tiredness that Ricky couldn’t help himself from squeezing her that much tighter. “Oh, Ricky, woah. A little softer there.” 

“Sorry.” 

“You have me, and Ricky, and all kinds of other support, if you want,” Pete said, and Ricky could tell he was on a roll so he let him take the lead. “I guess I don’t… we have a lot in common with recovery and everything, and I’m probably not doing this right since I don’t have a lot of women friends which is weird since I do have that POV somewhere in there, but, I don’t know. I’m here for you. Thanks for letting me be here while we do all this in the men’s room.” 

Sofia laughed for real this time, and said, “I feel like when you take a surprise pregnancy test it should be in the stupidest, most depressing way possible. One leg up on the urinal feels right.”

 
And that was when Ricky had to step in, because, “Really? That’s where you did it? Here, go that way, wash your hands.” 

After he’d directed Sofia and Pete to the sink and listened to them chat for a bit while they scrubbed for the requisite amount of time, Ricky couldn’t help but picture himself, twenty-one, barely passing community college. He hadn’t known what his life was supposed to look like. He’d barely glimpsed the shape of it, starting with the firefighter eligibility test he’d taken on his birthday and the little pink line on the test in Anna’s hands. If he could tell that person something, what would he say? 

“Your kid is going to be so cool,” he told Sofia. “And when this isn’t hard, it’s going to be really fun.” 

Sofia answered with a smile that was a little weak, but genuine, and then they headed back out into Nod to do the rest of what needed to get done.

Esther loved her mother and her grandmother. She loved that they were uncursed, and that they lived close by, and that they cared about the little family she'd built in the years since they were back. On the other hand, she didn't love when they dropped over unannounced to try and force her to change her arcane focus and get married immediately. 

"I keep telling you, the bat is fine, just like me and Ricky."

"Ricky and I," said Esther’s mother, Gabriela. She was still holding the staff out in front of her like the grammatical correction was going to magically change Esther’s mind. 

It wasn’t, and also, “It’s Ricky and me, actually, since I’m using the pronoun in place of the object and and not the subject.” 

“Stop deflecting,” Patricia snapped, and Esther looked down at her tiny, terrifying grandmother to find a wand being waved in her face. “The bat is garish. You need to lock down that man. End of discussion.” 

“It’s not the end of the discussion because the discussion shouldn’t even be happening. It’s my relationship, and I’ll decide when-” 

Gabriela slammed the butt of the staff on the ground. It was more effective than clearing her throat, but she did that too, just for emphasis. “That little girl’s mother is back in town, and if you don’t sign some papers quickly there might be one less person living in this apartment.” 

Esther whipped her head around to the hallway, straining her eyes to see if Miya was lurking. It was far past her bedtime, but that hadn’t stopped her before. When she responded, it was in a hiss: “Don’t talk about that. She could hear you.” 

“Would that be the worst thing?” 

“Yes! We’re trying to do this right, and give her the best shot at-” 

“Who decides what ‘best’ means?” Patricia asked, because she always went right for the heart of the matter. There were times when it was great, and cut out a lot of needless chatter. This, however, was not one of those times. 

Esther felt her hand tighten around her bat when she said, “Ricky decides. When he wants my advice, he asks, and I give it, but he makes the choices because he is her father.” 

Gabriela tsked. “You’re not a nanny and you’re not some nobody. Not to that child, at least.” 

“It’s more complicated than that.” 

“And you’re going to solve it with a bat,” Patricia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “How efficient and subtle.” 

It was exactly at that moment that all three women heard the scrape of a key in the lock. They spun around to see Ricky slump through the door. His posture straightened when he noticed Esther’s family, and he smiled at them as he unlaced his shoes. “It’s good to see you,” he said, and Esther could tell he really meant it. Her beautiful man. If he wanted to marry her, he’d just say so, and she could wait for him. She’d wait forever.

Gabriela was not nearly as patient. She strode towards Ricky, the gnarled wood of her staff thudding against the floor as she walked, and said, “Don’t you think Esther needs a new arcane focus? One that’s more respectable, for the head of the Gramercy Occult Society?” 

Ricky shrugged. “I like the bat.” 

“But don’t you think something more practical might be better? Something she could wear, like a ring?” Patricia said. As she spoke, Ricky crossed the room and pulled out a kitchen chair for her to sit on. She gave Esther a pointed look as she sat down, which could have been a chastisement for not offering an old lady a seat or a warning that if Esther didn’t marry Ricky, her grandmother would. 

“I think whatever she wants would be cool,” Ricky said. He was made even more diplomatic by the simple, easy way he told the truth. “I always thought the bat was awesome, but sometimes change is good. You can always try something new and then go back to the bat if you don’t like it.” 

Despite the fact that her grandmother had just sat down, Esther knew from the pleased look on their faces that she had to hustle them out of the apartment before she had a magical engagement ring on her finger. She knew what her family was capable of; if Gabriela and Patricia had ten minutes Ricky would be down on one knee without any idea what he was actually doing. “Look, it’s late, and Ricky just got back from- babe, where were you today?” 

“Sixth Borough,” Ricky answered, heading to the fridge for a protein shake. That explained why he smelled like marshmallows and had gunpowder in his hair. 

“We both really need sleep, and I’m sure you do, too,” Esther said.

She managed to get both her mother and grandmother out the door, although not without a promise to at least try out a new arcane focus and an acknowledgement that they knew they were being played, and they were just going along with it to be nice. Esther nodded and kissed them on the cheek and really did say a sincere goodbye—it was much better to have overbearing family members than it was to have them cursed in Thompkins Square Park—and then, when the door finally closed behind them, she slumped against it and heaved a deep sigh. 

“Did you eat?” Ricky asked, because of course that was the first thing he asked.

“Miya had spaghetti and I had her meatballs once she was done pretending they were meteors.” 

“Good protein, but not enough carbs,” Ricky said, even though he was the one fixing himself a plate of chicken breast and string beans. He piled on extra for Esther though, which was sweet, if not particularly appetizing. 

They sat together at the table once his food was done in the microwave, Esther picking green beans off his plate with her fingers. He’d recently discovered everything bagel seasoning, especially when it came to vegetables, and it did make them more interesting. Esther silently catalogued his injuries: the blood in his hairline, the bandage on his arm, the ginger way he rested his left foot on the floor. She was a wizard—destruction and books, no healing to be had—but nevertheless, she went to the bathroom and got two ibuprofen to slide across the table toward him. 

Ricky took them and smiled. He said, “A lot of weapons coming in and out of our lives today.” 

“Our lives? What happened with you?” 

Then there was the story of the Met, and the sword in the stone, and the Questing Blade becoming a double weapon and then a triple weapon. It was startling to find out that Ricky had backed away from the kind of prophecy that a sword like that held. He’d been to the Hall of Heroes. He knew that he was singularly worthy to protect New York, that when a weapon presented itself to be wielded in the name of the city it was usually made to fit his hand. And yet, the first time he was presented with a choice, he’d chosen to say no. 

“Why didn’t you take it?” Esther asked. One of the lessons she’d learned in the three beautiful years she’d had with Ricky Matsui was that it didn’t make sense to agonize over his decisions. Whenever she asked, he always had a very simple reason. 

This time was no different: “I just don’t think I’m a sword guy.” 

“The axe does feel more you,” Esther agreed. “And it’s just a normal axe?” 

“I think so? Or maybe not. I got the feeling when I grabbed it that it might not be the weapon that’s special, but I make it special. I’m not totally sure. I’m still figuring out what’s going on with me, magically speaking.” Ricky polished off his chicken and gestured to the axe that he’d carefully laid on top of the bookshelf in the living room, out of reach of any children. “I haven’t tested it out yet. But it felt better in my hand.” 

Esther had put her staff in the same place, less for safety and more because she was too exhausted to look at it. She said, “Magically speaking, I think you make everything special.” 

The smile Ricky responded with wasn’t entirely innocent. Esther responded in kind, and the rest of the evening got away from them pretty quickly, the weapons and the dishes easily forgotten. 

The only reason Miya was allowed to go with her dad to her Uncle Pete’s house and talk about swords was because he was feeling weird after they’d spent the morning with Anna. He’d admitted as much to Esther while Miya was supposed to be by the door practicing how to double-knot her shoes. She’d already figured that out, though, so it had been the perfect time to get some eavesdropping done and listen to her dad say, “I normally wouldn’t bring her, but this morning was weird. Anna was extra vacant. I kind of want to keep her near me,” and Esther had agreed like the conversation was more serious than Miya thought it was.

And it was a bigger deal to go to Pete’s house than it had been to get breakfast with Anna. Miya liked her mom fine. She was really pretty, which was good to know, and she asked a lot of good questions. Miya got to talk about swords and astronauts and how Spanish was her least favorite special because she was always getting in trouble for talking with her friends in English. But Anna wasn’t Uncle Pete. Miya didn’t care about going to Anna’s house. She was pretty sure Anna’s house was a hotel, whereas Uncle Pete lived with Cody and a bunch of other people and probably had lots of cool stuff to let Miya borrow if she promised to be really careful. 

Ricky kept an extra tight hold on Miya’s hand the entire way to Astoria, only letting go when they got there so she could run ahead and ring the bell. Cody opened the door, but he was different than Miya remembered him. He was wearing huge clothes and he looked kind of sad and tired, but when she asked he just said he was fine and he was excited to learn more about swords. 

“That’s really great,” Miya said. “I brought my library books.” 

The rule at the library was that Miya could take out whatever she wanted as long as she promised to give it “a good go,” which for Ricky meant reading the first page and for Esther meant reading at least half. Miya checked out enough nonfiction books about knighthood and the chivalric era that, even having read either a page or half of the boring ones, she’d absorbed more than a little knowledge. 

“Cool,” Cody said. “I’m really trying to do the work.” He stepped aside to let Miya in with Ricky at her heels. 

Pete’s house was nice, if a bit crowded. He’d explained to Miya that a bunch of people all shared it together, but that hadn’t really sunk in. The living room had a bunch of old saggy chairs and one big couch, with a desk crammed up into one corner and lots of stuff on the walls. Then Pete came out of the kitchen and Miya was running at him she she could get picked up and spun around. Pete was in the middle of asking about what had happened with Dylan at school—he was sharing now that Miya had explained calmly to him how his behavior hurt her feelings like Pete had suggested—when the knock came at the door. By the time he was finished congratulating Miya on her conflict resolution skills, Nick had been invited to join them for sword day. 

“Swords are about knights. And knights are about using swords only when that’s honorable, which is like, helping people when they can’t help themselves. And also armor,” Miya said when Ricky asked her what their first rule was. 

“You got there eventually, Mimi,” Pete said from the corner. He was an observer, because his magic “didn’t take swords to work” and could “explode someone from far away already.” He’d promised to be supportive, though, which Miya appreciated. 

Ricky ignored him and kept going. “Learning to fight is important, but what’s more important is knowing when to fight. If you start hacking and slashing at every little problem, pretty soon you’re gonna become a big problem.”

“Like the time I jumped on top of Georgiana for taking my rocketship toy,” Miya added helpfully. “She just wanted to play with it, and we could’ve took turns, but instead we landed on it and one of the wings broke off.”

Nick nodded. He had one hand on the sword Ricky had given him. Miya was trying really hard not to feel blindingly jealous, but she had the feeling her eyes were giving her away. Cody, though, raised his hand like he had a question. “So I’m supposed to take turns?” 

“You’re supposed to look for other options,” Ricky said. “So the wings don’t break off the rocketship toy.” 

They did forms after that, slow movements all at once. Miya was allowed to use her plastic play sword from home but not a real one, and even though she was tired after moving through the stances, she could tell Nick’s real sword was a lot heavier than hers. He was sweating a lot, and chugging water during breaks. Finally, when they were having a lie down on the threadbare living room rug, Miya turned towards Nick and asked, “How come you didn’t tell me you liked this stuff at the parade?” 

“You were kind of freaking out,” Nick said, and Miya shoved down the hot flush of embarrassment she felt at the memory. She had been freaking out. She’d had a good reason to. And besides, Nick wasn’t saying she shouldn’t have been freaking out, he was just saying that was why they hadn’t talked about other stuff. 

Still, she said, “I’m sorry about that.”

Nick just shrugged. “It makes sense. That’s kind of why I’m here.” 

“You’re here because my dad got bit by a big balloon dog?” 

“No,” Nick said, and Miya could tell he wanted to laugh. “I’m here because my mom does stuff like that all the time, and my sister is probably going to start soon, and I feel like someone needs to make sure they’re safe while they do it.” 

“Who’s gonna look out for you, though?” Miya asked. 

Nick pushed up to sitting, wrapped his arms around his knees. “Would you do it?” 

“But I don’t have a real sword,” Miya said. She sat up, too, and her arms felt like noodles hanging from her shoulders. 

“When you do, though, you’re gonna be scary as hell.”

Miya felt strong all over. She was still tired, and she didn’t think she could stick her hand out to shake Nick’s no matter what happened, but the deep ache in her muscles felt good. Like maybe, if she kept working, she could be as scary as Nick thought she could be one day. Her smile was huge, big enough that she felt like she could almost grasp the corners of what she’d had that day in the parade, but it slipped through her fingers and there was just her dad letting her know it was almost time to go home. “Do you ever feel like stuff is being really weird?” she asked. “Not all the time, but lately. Like everyone is alone even when there’s all these people around?” 

Nick squinted at her, but not the bad way. It was just the way that meant someone was thinking hard, and then he said, “Yeah, I noticed that,” and Miya knew she could trust him. 

“My dad says that we get to pick our own family, which is extra important after whatever is making everyone lonely. And I think that we should remember we even have to pick the people we’re related to if we want them and tell them that for sure.” Miya felt like maybe Nick needed to hear that about his mom, just like she needed to hear it about hers. They were at different stages—Miya was sure it would be a long time before she was ready to make a decision about Anna—but still, it was good to hear. “I’d pick you, probably.” 

Instead of responding, Nick just reached out and bumped his fist against Miya’s. It was easier than a handshake, because she didn’t have to move her arms, and she almost liked it better.

On the walk home, Ricky turned towards Miya and said, “That was nice, what you said to Nick.” 

“I meant it.” 

“I know you did. You always mean what you say.” 

“Lying is bad,” Miya announced, definitive, because that was a big rule.

Ricky corrected easily, “Lying is mostly bad. There are some times when it’s okay to lie. Or, times when it’s nice, which is almost the same thing.” 

“Like when Esther made me a grilled cheese and it was really gross.” Ever since she’d turned seven, they’d been working on nuance, which made everything more complicated and required a lot of examples to make sense of. This one was easy, though. Both Ricky and Miya told Esther her grilled cheeses were great and it was a shame that she was too busy to make them, because it made her happy.

“Exactly like that.” Ricky paused for a second, and Miya stopped on the sidewalk to look up at him. “Listen, kiddo. If I tell you something, will you promise to try and understand what I mean?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You don’t always have to try and protect everyone all the time,” he said, and Miya almost rolled her eyes before she caught herself.

“Don’t be a hippopotamus.” 

“A what?” 

“A hippopotamus,” she repeated. “You’re saying I don’t have to do that but you’re always doing it.” 

“Oh, you mean a hypocrite.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

Ricky smiled, just a little. “You said hippopotamus.” 

“Okay. Well I meant the other thing.” 

“I’m working on it,” Ricky said, and then Miya watched her dad tense for a second, make a decision, and then reach for her hand. Once they’d started walking again, he said, “Can we talk about your mom for a little bit?” 

Miya swung their joined hands back and forth and said, “Yeah.” 

“You just seem really okay with all of it, and I’m having a harder time, especially after we saw her this morning. I want to know what you’re thinking.” 

This was usually Miya’s favorite type of question, something open-ended, with no right answer. This time, though, she felt stumped. She’d mostly been thinking about it by going as fast as she could and not really spending a lot of time on it, convincing herself Anna wasn’t important and concentrating on the next thing. But her dad had asked, and he was squeezing her hand like he knew this was hard, so Miya gave it her best shot: “I’m thinking that she seems nice but it was weird how she ordered her omelet and I didn’t like how Esther wasn’t there.” 

Something about the expression on her dad’s face made Miya want to tell him everything. All about how she could feel the city getting stranger, and the fact that she could maybe do magic, and mostly that she didn’t want to think about her mom because she was terrified that Anna would come into her life and then leave it again, and she was even more terrified that she’d stay. 

But then, right as she’d almost gathered the courage, Pete came running down the street waving his phone in front of him, breathing heavy. “Answer your texts, dude!” he said with his hands on his knees. “Kingston said something went down with Willy, and he wants all hands on deck at the Gramercy in an hour.”

Ricky got down on one knee and told Miya, “Hop on.”

 
She climbed onto his back and held onto his shoulders as he rushed down the street, already on the phone with Emiko to see if she was free to hang out at the house, and the moment popped like a soap bubble in the cold December air. 

Ricky blinked and he was in the middle of the city, walking. He’d said goodbye to Esther, dropped Miya off at school and stopped by St. Owen’s to talk with Kingston about what was happening with Gladiator, and then it was early afternoon and he was wandering around Brooklyn with seemingly no destination. What had startled him out of his stupor was a siren, the noise familiar enough that he wasn’t surprised when all three Johns hopped out of the truck at the corner and sprinted towards him. 

“Ricky, dude! How are you?” they all yelled, overlapping like they were singing a round. They weren’t in full gear, but the canvas of their jackets was heavy against Ricky’s torso, and it felt strange to hug them without a jacket of his own. 

“I’m good,” he said without knowing if that were true. “It’s great to see you guys.” 

All three men laughed in tandem, easily, clapping hands on Ricky’s shoulders. “What’s going on with you, man?” 

Without thinking, Ricky said, “I’m just walking.” The words felt like static in his mouth, a foul taste coating his tongue. 

“That’s awesome. Get your steps in,” John said, and then he gestured over Ricky’s shoulder at the axe he had slung over his back. “Shit! Are you firefighting again?” 

“On a different squad?” asked John.

He looked a little hurt, so Ricky was quick to say, “No, I’m not- I found this, I guess. Probably shouldn’t be carrying it around, that’s not safe. Do you want it?” 

The last John said, “Sure, we can take it. We should actually-”

“Shit, the siren!”

“Yeah, there’s a fire, we need to-” 

Ricky waved them all off. “I get it, guys. I’ll text you later.”

And then they were gone. Ricky took a second to get his bearings, checking the street signs at the intersection, trying to plot his course home. He had no clue what route he’d taken to get where he was, but even without wandering it would’ve been miles. When he tried to remember the static roared louder in his ears, drowning out any possible answers. 

The only thing that remained was questions. If Ricky didn’t have a weapon, what was he? Why wasn’t he happy with Kugrash’s legacy, or Anna’s efforts to be in Miya’s life, or his role in the Unsleeping City? Why couldn’t he just be quiet and accept what had been given to him, just like he had with the Questing Blade? That time, he’d trusted the universe. He’d followed the path that had been laid out for him, and he’d ended up fine, so what was it about this path that he couldn’t manage to stay on? 

As Ricky started walking again, though, he noticed how much lighter he felt without the fireman’s axe. He thought about the promise that he’d made to Miya, about understanding that he could do more than just protect people. He hadn’t consciously picked a direction, but he found himself walking towards the Occult Society and JJ’s apartment, the one person in the Unsleeping City he was sure he’d helped without lifting a weapon at all. And if Ricky was feeling static this strong, so much like the anti-populi that Kingston had been describing since Halloween, what must it have felt like for JJ?

Ricky could feel a breakthrough coming, something hovering on the horizon just the other side of the aimless loneliness that sent him pacing the city for meaning. He knew he had to keep going, keep searching for it, so he put his head down. He walked. 

The first thing Ricky saw after getting his sense of self back was Emiko’s eyes on his. She had both her hands pressed into his cheeks, hot with magic, and he felt almost hungover, if a headache could be in his sense of self rather than in his physical body. It took him a second to blink away the sensation of distance, so she had to call his name a few times before he was able to answer with a bewildered, “Yeah?” Emiko immediately started crying, tears rolling one after another down her cheeks. 

“Thank fucking God,” she said, although it was broken up by the ragged breaths she was taking to try and regain control. 

Feeling came rushing back slowly, and then all at once. Things Ricky had known logically became things he knew emotionally, fully, fear and anger and shame at having let Iga disappear into Null, at having barged into the pasts of Kingston and Esther’s family and making a fool of himself, of running into danger without caring about any of the people he would leave behind if he didn’t make it out. He’d promised himself three years ago after Times Square that he would try and change, a promise Null had destroyed with a single thought. 

He could see Kingston walking around the darkened exhibit pouring Holy Grail detergent on everyone, emptying the dregs of the bottle on himself. Sofia was shaking off her stun, flexing her fingers over and over as she prowled the shadows looking for clues and something to punch. Pete spoke softly to Cody, who had his head between his knees, and as Ricky kept scanning the room with his eyes he was hit all over again with the realization that Iga was gone. They’d done their best and Null had taken her anyways, and, “Oh my God. What are we going to tell Jess and Nick?” 

Emiko wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “The truth, probably.”

“I don’t even- I’m not sure what the truth is. Or if I can explain what Null-” 

“Was it this scary last time?” Emiko asked, and Ricky remembered giving Miya to her at St. Owen’s. The feeling in his chest hadn’t been unlike the numbness Null had imposed when he’d sent his sister and his daughter out of the city. Emiko hadn’t known what he was up against, but she’d known him well enough to figure out it was bad. 

But this was different. “Back then was scary, but the bad guys were… they were just awful, powerful people. This thing is huge. It goes after loneliness, and it doesn’t follow human logic, and I’m honestly not sure we can kill it.”  

“What do you mean it goes after loneliness?” Emiko asked.

There was a long moment where Ricky realized he hadn’t told anyone about the static, or at least not the truth of it. He’d seen it in JJ and chased it away, seen it in Anna and run in the other direction, felt it in himself and looked for meaning. He knew that his magic could open him up to things. There was a certain type of magic he could sense better than anyone else, especially when he took the time to really listen, but he also felt like a part of this came from himself, from his life before he’d figured out how to see into the Sixth Borough. 

So he took a deep breath, and he said to Emiko, “I’ve met some people in the past few months who have been really lost, and really lonely, and there’s this… there’s something that’s nothing behind their eyes. I think I’ve also been having a hard time, which is how I noticed. And then, just now, it was like that loneliness times a thousand except instead of feeling just alone, I felt empty. I don’t know, I feel like I’m not making sense, but I know it’s Null. That’s how he gets people.” 

Emiko grabbed Ricky’s shoulders with her hands and squeezed. “You’re still here.” 

“I feel like I shouldn’t be,” Ricky sighed, and it was mostly air but his sister heard it anyways. “JJ and Anna, they both have reasons to feel like this, and I’m just…” 

“You’re allowed to feel bad,” Emiko said, and Ricky almost laughed, because how many times had she said this to him before? 

“My life is awesome,” Ricky said. He meant it, too. His daughter was hilarious, and kind, and interesting. His girlfriend was charming, and intelligent, and excellent to talk to. He had great friends and the best dog and a job that he liked going to every day, and when people needed help he could give it to them. So what the fuck was missing? 

Emiko’s magic flowed through her hands into Ricky. It wasn’t as hot like before; it was warm orange firelight instead of blue flame. Ricky felt himself relaxing, his thoughts slowing down so he could start to actually interrogate them instead of watch them whip by. “You’re a person, Ricky,” she said. “You’re allowed to have bad days. We’ll figure it out.” 

And he felt four again. He felt seven, and twelve, and fourteen, and twenty-one all at once when his big sister told him something and he believed it as hard as he could because she promised it was true. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he told her, and Emiko rolled her eyes instead of responding, because, of course. This was exactly where she belonged. 

Esther couldn’t believe she’d let herself be lured into a false sense of security by the past two weeks. Ricky had come back from Ellis Island looking shaken, so much so that he didn’t deny Miya a single request for another book and fell asleep in her bed halfway through one about a missing turtle. But then, after that, there had just been long days of working and prowling the streets looking for a missing dragon’s hoard. Life went on. Esther bought groceries and made fish tacos that weren’t horrible. Miya had a project about monarch butterflies and forgot to ask for posterboard until the night before, so Ricky stayed up all night helping her cut out paper wings. 

It was the normalcy that had made her realize she was late. There was an hour before she had to pick up Miya from school, and she’d gone to the pharmacy to pick up some paper towels and a Diet Coke, and the feminine hygiene aisle was like a punch to the stomach. Taking the pregnancy test was even more cruel. Whoever had designed it—the need to almost pee on your fingers, the anxious waiting, the fact that you had to check the box over and over to remember what the damn lines meant—should be tried for some kind of horrible crime. Or at least forced to make a better system that didn’t make Esther feel like she was going to puke and pass out and also maybe cry.

And then the test came back positive, and Esther settled for the third option.

It was a quick, heavy cry, the kind that made Esther’s face feel hot and tight with the salt from her tears. She scrubbed at her eyes and tossed the test in the trash. Then, out of sheer panic, she disguised it as a box of Junior Mints and rushed out of the bathroom to try and think somewhere else in the apartment.

Esther had a lot of questions she needed to answer. For example, did she want more kids? If she did, was this the right time? How would Miya feel about it? Fuck, how would Ricky? How did she feel about it, actually? Because that was probably also important. But before she could even get started on the first one, she caught a shadow moving out of the corner of her eye, and when she turned to follow it, Tony Simos was sitting at her kitchen table. 

“Tony, what- we don’t have our next meeting about the expedition until next week,” Esther said. Her voice came out thick and a little hoarse, and she resisted the urge to wipe at her eyes. Tony knew she’d been crying. He would’ve known even if she’d had an hour to hide it. 

Just like she thought, he clasped his hands together on the table and said, “Tears already? There goes the beginning of my speech, then.” 

And Esther smiled, because she finally had an excuse to listen to the way the hairs on the back of her neck rose when he looked at her. She whipped her hands up and started casting, but Tony was faster and Esther’s staff was leaning by the door. Without her arcane focus, the spell she got off was weaker than it should’ve been, but he still winced as it thudded into his chest. “Fuck off,” Esther spat, and then he was in front of her, hands a blur. 

Esther could breathe, and then she couldn’t, and she only registered the fact that it was Tony’s hand that had done it when she’d already fallen to her knees. “I know you’ve been lying to me, Miss Sinclair,” he said as she wheezed for breath. “I’m not nearly as stupid as you think I am. For example, I’m smart enough to know exactly how to get your boyfriend and all his friends to go exactly where I want them to.” 

Then there was a cold hand on the back of Esther’s neck, a word of power spoken in a familiar voice, and nothing but void. 

Whatever pocket dimension she’d been sent to, it could’ve been worse. It was infinitely white, and bright, but the ground had some give and Esther laid down with her hands behind her head, eyes closed. She was angry, first, blindingly so. She’d picked a direction and ran in it, kicked at the ground, taken off her earrings and thrown them to see how far they’d go. She could cast, but it was a waste of magic since there was nothing to blow up or scry on or ward against.

Besides, there was a lot Esther had to be angry about. She’d let herself become the bait for a trap. She’d let Tony fool her for months. She was pregnant, and still kind of freaking out about it, but the man she loved wasn’t in this colorless void and she didn’t know if or when she’d be getting out to tell him the news and have him ground her, make her feel rational and calm. She was completely unable to be either of those things. Even as she lay on the ground she was angry, scared, overwhelmed. There was too much to contemplate and nothing all around her, and Esther was fucking pissed. 

And then there was the simple fact that, if she was stuck in here, there would be no one to pick Miya up from school. Esther threw her earring once more, for good measure, and then the other one, for symmetry, and she lay back down to wait. 

Ricky came home to the apartment door ajar and no one inside. Furniture was overturned, glass was shattered on the floor, and the bathroom door was open. Kingston kept saying to focus on the evidence, that they could tell what happened if they looked at all the information together, but Ricky knew Esther. She didn’t leave the bathroom door open, ever, because Ox liked to go in there and chew the toilet paper off the roll and it drove her crazy. Something was wrong in there, and Kingston had a handle on the rest of it. 

Sofia followed Ricky into the bathroom. She was the one who found the box of Junior Mints in the trash can. She didn’t have to say anything, because they both knew what it meant, and Ricky felt a jolt go through his body all the way to his fingers. He was excited. He was terrified. He needed to explain to Esther that he loved her and then listen to her explain that she loved him and then maybe start to figure this out together. Instead, all he could do was put the Junior Mints back in the trash and go into the living room.

“Something really bad happened,” he let Cody say, because the kid was becoming a better Paladin and also a little easier to be around. Ricky stepped gingerly over the shattered glass of the picture that had been on their side table. He didn’t need to pick it up off the ground to know that it was of Esther and Miya on the Staten Island Ferry, sharing an enormous pretzel and smiling into the wind. 

His life was so deep, and so rich, and it was only going to get more so. But first, Ricky had to find out where the fuck Esther was, and who had smashed up their home, and he felt a tingle in his palm like there was something that was going to help him do just that. 

Before he could spend time trying to figure it out, though, Pete read out the note from the kitchen table and Ricky was out the door before the bat even landed in his hands. Once it did—he was half a block away and gaining speed, Ox at his heels with his usual doggy exuberance swapped out for singleminded focus—it felt right immediately. He recognized vaguely that all of his friends were behind him using various magical and mechanical means to stay within sight and get to Gramercy as fast as possible. 

It was only once he was there, standing in front of the doors with some small part of him expecting to walk in and see Esther bent over some work, that he remembered why she’d been home so early in the first place. He pulled out his phone and called the school. Miya’s teacher picked up on the third ring. 

“Miya? Oh, she was picked up about fifteen minutes ago.” There was a beautiful moment where Ricky thought that meant the note was a lie, that Tony had been bluffing and Esther was walking home right now, no knowledge of anything that had happened. But the teacher continued, “Her mom came in to say hello. It was so nice to finally meet her, you know?” 

Ricky hung up without responding. He had to call Emiko twice before she answered, which meant she had her phone on silent. It also meant that he was invoking emergency bypass, which he never did, and so the first thing she said when she picked up was “What’s wrong?” 

“I need you to go get Miya,” Ricky said. “Right now. Tony took Esther and then Anna picked her up from school.” 

Emiko didn’t argue. She just said, “Yeah, I’ll go right now. Where are they?” 

Rowan pulled up behind Ricky in the Maserati right as he said, “Fuck, I don’t know. I can’t- This is- I don’t know what to do.” His voice was strangely high in his own ears, and Sofia must have ridden in the car with Rowan, because it was her hand that squeezed Ricky’s shoulder, her nails grounding pinpricks against his skin. 

“I’ll go get JJ and he can do a location spell,” Emiko said, always cool under pressure.

“Thank you,” Ricky said, and he heard the sounds of his sister fumbling with the phone so he added, desperate, “and hey, I love you, okay?” 

There was the beginnings of Emiko saying it back that were cut off by the urgency of her hanging up the phone and doing what needed to get done. 

Miya had started to feel like she’d been playing on the playground a little bit too long when Anna showed up. The plan they’d made at breakfast was that Esther would pick up Miya so Ricky could spend the afternoon helping Kingston. The persimmons were finally ripe, though, and Miya had been allowed to have one for breakfast with yogurt, so she hadn’t been paying as close attention as she usually was. Even so, if Anna was supposed to pick her up, there would’ve been a big discussion about it. Everyone would’ve been wanting to know how Miya felt, and remind her she could talk to them anytime, and she definitely wouldn’t have been too distracted to notice that.

So, it was weird. 

And it was also weird how people were looking at her. Miya was used to people around Anna being guarded. Esther was stiff and polite, Ricky was quiet and careful, and the one time that Sofia had showed up for dinner on the tail end of a visit had felt charged like a fight was about to break out. But now, with Ms. Simon, it was all smiles and laughing and leaning in. She even put her clipboard down to put a hand on Anna’s arm, which was crazy because Ms. Simon loved her clipboard and all the information she had on it. She never listened when Miya wanted to explain how things would be more fun if she just tried something new. 

Miya stayed on top of the jungle gym while Anna walked over. She regarded her mother from the high ground. Anna was wearing a beige turtleneck, and a truly spectacular burgundy leather coat that was so long it almost looked like a cape, and boots that made her walk like she was mad at the ground. Miya, on the other hand, was wearing her usual orange and blue puffer coat and her green corduroy overalls with the worn in knees. “Hello,” Miya said, and then she waited. 

Anna looked for a long second and then said, in almost the exact same tone, “Hello.” 

There was a moment where they just stared at each other. Miya could feel that something was different. Not wrong, not exactly. But it wasn’t just that the day had been supposed to go one way and it had taken another turn. Something was different about Anna that made Miya’s heart beat faster, but it wasn’t the kind of fast that meant she was scared, not yet. She was just ready for anything.

“I’m picking you up from school,” Anna explained. “Your father is indisposed.” 

“What’s indisposed?” 

Anna smiled, but it was just with one corner of her mouth. “He’s unavailable.” 

“Okay,” Miya said, because it wouldn’t help to point out that unavailable was useless as far as explanations went. “What about Esther, then?” 

“Indisposed as well. I thought I could pick you up, and we could make a day of it.”

Miya didn’t make any move to get off the jungle gym, but she also didn’t say no. She just kicked her legs a little, and put on her thinking face. “What do you mean by ‘make a day’?” 

One time, Miya had heard Esther say someone looked like ‘the cat who got the canary,’ and she hadn’t understood what that meant, because cats who got canaries were probably too busy eating them to look like anything. Now, though, looking at Anna, it clicked. She looked satisfied, indulgent, not like she was pleased to spend time with Miya, but like she was happy because other people couldn’t. But Miya was watching very carefully, listening to the bad feeling rising in her chest, and she noticed that the expression didn’t reach Anna’s eyes. 

“I thought we could take a cab down to Battery Park and go see the Statue of Liberty,” Anna said. “My job has been meaning to get me down there and see about acquiring it.” 

There were a lot of holes in the version of Anna’s story that Miya knew. Her dad tried his best to always be honest with her and, at the same time, only tell her as much as she could safely handle. That left a lot of questions that had to be answered with a simple, “not that one, kiddo.” But the thing about Miya was that she’d read plenty of books, a lot of them mysteries, and she knew how to solve a puzzle. 

Ricky was forthcoming about Anna. He wanted Miya to have all the information so she could figure out her feelings, no matter if they were big or small. So when it was a question about just her mom, Miya could always expect an answer. There was, though, something about else going on, because why else would her dad always be whispering with Esther about it after Miya went to bed? And so, Miya figured, any question about Anna that got her a “not that one, kiddo,” was a way that Anna was connected to the scary stuff that was going on with the city. 

Miya had asked about her mother’s job a few times, and she’d never gotten an answer. It had to have something to do with why everyone seemed so tired, and scared, and why Iga was gone and everyone kept letting Nick skip school to help them run around the city and look for something that would help find her. So she looked at Anna, braced her hands against the metal rungs of the jungle gym, and leapt off. She said, “Cool,” even if what she really meant was that she was going to figure out what was going on, and she was going to protect her dad and also the whole city. 

The cab ride wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either. Miya could count the number of times she’d been in a cab on one hand, but the novelty wore off pretty quickly, especially since Anna wasn’t being very talkative. Every other time that she’d gotten to see Miya she’d asked a lot of questions about classes and friends and hobbies, which was a weird way of saying the stuff Miya liked to do after school. She just sat in her seat and stared out the front windshield without really seeming to look at anything at all. 

Finally it got too quiet, and so Miya sat on her hands to squash her nerves and said, “What’s your actual job?” 

Anna took a second to look over, like she’d forgotten Miya was there. “Oh. I work for Gladiator. Their headquarters are in San Francisco.” 

“Like the company that made those robots at the parade?” Miya asked, imagining how they marched in neat lines behind the scary clowns and balloon animals, how they hadn’t stopped walking even when everyone else ran screaming. 

“Exactly,” Anna said. “We make all kinds of things. Anything you might need.” 

“How come you’re in New York, then? If your headquarters are in that other place.”

The cab stopped suddenly at a red light. Anna jerked forward in her seat, impassive. “New York is a big city, with a lot of wonderful people. We’re looking to expand our base of operations to include everything this place has to offer.” 

Miya was starting to feel like Anna was using a lot of words to say nothing at all. And even if she had been saying something, there wouldn’t be anything inside the person saying it. The wrong feeling kept coming, feeling like it was rooted deeper and deeper inside the hollow part of Miya’s chest where she always thought of herself coming from, if she had to. The car started driving and Miya closed her eyes, squeezed her hands into fists, trying to let the feeling inside instead of stamping it out. 

Right before the cab came to a stop, Miya thought she could sense something. The world coalesced around her, even with her eyes closed, fuzzy lines like an unfocused picture except where Anna was sitting. Around her was sharp, swirling darkness, with something small waiting inside. Miya moved to turn her body towards it, but then she heard the sounds of seatbelts clicking and doors opening and it was gone. “Battery Park,” the driver was saying. “You gonna pay with card?” 

Miya contemplated running away. She thought maybe it was the right choice. She could picture herself explaining it to Ricky: she saw something scary, around Anna, a big dark thing, and he always said the first thing she should do was get herself safe. But then there was also the feeling in her stomach, which she’d had to let out in order to see the big dark thing. Originally she’d thought that it was just because there was a mystery, but there was something else there. 

It sucked, for Miya to have spent so long pretending not to care that her mom wanted to see her, only to figure out she’d been lying at the exact same time that she found out Anna was probably doing something scary and bad. It sucked when Anna finished paying the driver and walked onto the sidewalk. It sucked when she reached down and took Miya’s hand so they could walk towards the ferry without getting separated. It sucked when Anna took the coolest sunglasses of all time off her forehead and slipped them onto her nose. It sucked when Miya squeezed her hand in Anna’s grip, because when she held Esther’s hand that was their secret way to say I love you, and Anna didn’t squeeze back, it sucked because she didn’t know, it sucked because Miya didn’t want her to know and because she wanted her to know more than anything in the world. 

She felt like maybe, the mystery wasn’t as important. So Miya stopped, and planted her feet, and tugged her hand out of Anna’s grip. She said, “How come you’re only talking to me now?”

 
Anna blinked. For a split second it seemed like she stood up straighter, was startled back into herself, but then the hollowness took over again, stronger than ever. “I work,” she said. “I love you, but I work.” 

“That’s not true,” said Miya. She was no longer concerned with the desperate tinge to her voice, not worried anymore about saying the right thing. “I don’t care about you working. Everyone thinks I do, but I don’t, I just don’t think it’s fair to say I love you when you don’t mean it. I don’t even want you to mean it. I just want to know.”

“I told you already,” Anna repeated. Her tone was flat and even.

“You lied! And it’s not a small lie that’s okay, it’s a big one, and there’s something making you do it. So that thing should go away and you should tell the truth.” 

This was the first time Miya saw the vacant hollowness behind Anna’s eyes become aggressive, dangerous. She lunged forward and took Miya’s hand again, shifting the grip so it was locked hard around her wrist. “There’s nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing,” Miya insisted. She could feeling the same hot feeling from the parade starting underneath Anna’s fingers and racing up her arm through her shoulder and chest. 

For a second she fought it, but then Anna hissed, “It is. Nothing.” 

And so Miya stopped.

Ricky had always talked a lot about what it meant to be a member of a community. It meant being kind. It meant thinking about what you did before you did it, asking yourself whether what you were doing was making things better for everyone or just for you. Miya could feel the magic gathering in her breath and in her hands, and she thought that maybe, this was one of those times that being kind meant being strong and fighting back. 

So she closed her eyes, and she let the magic go, and as it rushed out of her, she asked it for a favor, and she hoped it listened. 

When Emiko ran toward Battery Park with JJ on her heels, she thought she’d find a scenario on either side of her disaster spectrum. She imagined Miya and Anna walking down the path toward the ferry, prepared for a nice day out. She tried not to imagine Miya hurt, unconscious, being taken through the park against her will. She did not, under any circumstance, imagine a scenario where Miya was standing over Anna with her hands glowing white hot, little feet planted in the ground, scowling at the dark smoke that lingered around Anna’s eyes and mouth. 

Of course, that was what she found. She managed to falter only for a single second and then she was recovered and moving quickly towards her niece. JJ wasn’t so lucky; he swore and tripped and took a second to roll back to his feet. They both yelled out Miya’s name, and then JJ tripped again when Miya turned her face towards them in response. 

Her eyes were burning bright silver. When she said, “There’s something really bad happening to her,” she didn’t raise her voice and yet still it was as clear in Emiko’s ear as if they were standing right next to each other. 

JJ slapped at something on his wrist as he caught up. He said, breathless from running, “She needs to stop casting whatever spell it is she’s casting.”

“She’s not casting anything, she’s seven,” Emiko responded, even though she knew it wasn’t true, because she had eyes. 

“She is, and it won’t take, and she’s going to burn herself out.” 

The time it took Emiko to run the last two hundred feet to her niece was an eternity. A quick scan showed that everything about Miya looked unhurt. Her limbs were intact and all pointing in the right directions. Everything was normal, unless she counted the fact that Miya was glowing and loud and powerful. Emiko reached out and then thought better of it, instead crouched down to Miya’s level and said, “Hey, sweetheart, can you come here?” 

“No,” Miya said. “I need to get it out of her.” 

Finally, Emiko turned to look at Anna. She’d spent enough time in the Unsleeping City to know that the wisps of smoke around Anna’s face were umbral arcana, but it was darker than it usually looked, and more persistent. The smoke was the only notable thing about Anna. Behind it she was simply sitting on the ground, expression vacant, her beautiful coat getting soaked through with the slushy remnants of snow. 

JJ was behind Emiko muttering and doing something complicated with his hands, and then he leaned in close and whispered, “The spell she’s using won’t work. You can Dispel the smoke, but Miya needs to stop casting first.” 

Fucking wizards, always thinking they know everything, Emiko thought, and she almost said it except she had a lot of respect for Esther and usually liked JJ a lot. This was a tense moment, and she couldn’t take it out on anyone beyond a brief roll of her eyes and a quick elbow to shove JJ off. He grunted at the contact and gave Emiko a few steps to breathe. 

“Miya,” Emiko said, and then when she didn’t listen, “Miyako. I can help, but only if you stop, okay?” 

“I don’t know how,” Miya said, and despite the way her voice carried, it still sounded small. 

Emiko turned desperately to JJ, who just shrugged. He had no idea what to do with Miya’s magic, and not just because he’d only been a part of the Unsleeping City for a few months. What was pouring out of Miya was pure protection, beyond any abjuration a wizard could cast. It was clear that neither of them could come at this using intellect, so Emiko let that part of her mind go. 
She put a hand on Miya’s shoulder and said, “You’re doing a really good job.” 

One silvery tear wobbled at the corner of Miya’s eye. “It won’t go away.” 

“I know what to do to make it go away,” Emiko said, keeping her voice as even as she could, given the circumstances. “But before I can do it, I really need you to focus on stopping. Remember the monkey bars at that park we used to go to, the ones by Kingston’s house? The rungs were too far apart and your arms weren’t long enough to swing between them, and then what happened?” 

“I got stuck in the middle,” Miya said through gritted teeth.

“Exactly. And you kept hanging there for a really long time because you wanted to get to the end, but sometimes that’s not possible. Just let go, okay? I can help, but you need to let it go.”
There was a long moment where Emiko thought Miya hadn’t heard her, or wouldn’t hear her. But then her eyes shuddered closed and her hands clenched into fists and silver light flashed bright and fast before the spell she’d cast faded into invisibility. JJ was right behind her to keep her steady as Emiko pressed her fingers into Anna’s forearm to look for a pulse. If Miya’s magic was bright and shiny, Emiko’s was all within heartbeats and cells, and she whispered until Anna’s heart beat unaccompanied hers. The smoke flew away on the breeze, finally, and Emiko reached for her niece. 

By the time Anna sat up, Emiko had gotten the whole story out of Miya. She was a little mad, and a little more impressed, but more than anything she was relieved that this one small thing was solved, even if the rest of the world was falling apart. Miya, on the other hand, was wired in the way little kids were when they were exhausted. She knew something bad was happening and wanted to be in the thick of things. And Emiko wanted to be there, too, as much as she was trying to play the role of responsible adult. 

“There was scary dust controlling you,” Miya said to Anna before anyone else could get a word in. 

“Not dust, umbral arcana. Which is like dust if it was inherently magic and behaved nothing like dust,” JJ said helpfully.

They were lucky that Anna was mostly getting up and brushing the snow off her coat. It was likely that she was wet, and cold, and yet also true that she still worked for Gladiator and stopped calling her kid with no explanation, so Emiko stayed wary. Finally, Anna coughed and said, “I didn’t like that.” 

“Me neither,” Miya said. She opened her mouth to say more, but Emiko pulled her in and wrapped a hand protectively over her chest. 

“How much of it do you remember?” Emiko asked.

“Most of it,” Anna responded. She spoke simply, without showing any sort of panic or overwhelm, and Emiko quietly wondered what the hell must have been going on at Gladiator out in San Francisco for this to be normal. “I’m obviously freaked out, but I’m getting the sense that you have to go help Ricky fix this whole thing.” 

JJ stopped looking through his magic iPad for long enough to say, “Yeah, like, now.” 

“I’m going to go back to my hotel room and sit inside with the door locked,” Anna said. “You can come get me when whatever’s going on is finished. I assume if you lose, the dust comes back.” 

“It’s not dust,” Emiko said, and then, “but yes, probably.” 

Anna coughed, as if to convince herself it could really be something as mundane as dust. “I don’t know how to stop it, or even really what it is, but I know that to get it to go away, you have to pay attention. There’s something about seeing the people around you and then reaching out that makes it go away, even for a second.”

Miya very politely shrugged off Emiko’s arm and stepped forward. “I said I didn’t care about if you came to talk to me at all, and that was a lie about you, and so I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry for yelling at you or for doing magic since you deserved it. Also, I want you to answer all the questions I asked, but later, since we have to go. Now.”

And Emiko was pretty sure she couldn’t have said it better herself, so they left it at that.

Ricky let himself feel relief for five seconds, and then he sprinted out of the ruins of the Gramercy Occult Society. It was a dumb move, given that he had no clue where Emiko even was, let alone Miya, but Esther was running right behind him, just as frantic, so he thought maybe he was justified. His phone rang before he could get too far. He didn’t even say hello, just picked up and held his breath until Emiko told him that Miya was fine, they were all together and on their way to him. He could hear his daughter in the background asking to be put on the phone and then Emiko holding her off, explaining that Ricky might be needed somewhere else, to help. “I’m not,” Ricky said, so fast he almost tripped over his words. “Put her on.”

 
His daughter chirped, “Hello, this is Miya speaking,” and Ricky sat down right there on the sidewalk. Esther crouched next to him, the edge of her cardigan pooling on his leg, and Ricky grabbed it for comfort, support, anything. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he said into the receiver. “Are you okay?” 

“Mostly,” she responded. Her tone was matter-of-fact, and Ricky could hear Emiko in the background talking to JJ. If Miya was physically hurt there wouldn’t have been a logistical conversation going on, he reasoned. His heart only beat fractionally slower. 

Esther tapped Ricky’s shoulder impatiently, and he put the call on speaker. They hadn’t had much time to talk—their reunion after the battle had been fast and fraught, with spells flying around and literal reincarnation to contend with—but as soon as she’d realized Miya wasn’t with Ricky, any possibility of rational discussion went out the window. When she was sure Miya could hear her, Esther said “What’s up?” in a voice so teary Ricky knew she’d been planning on saying something else and had had to pivot. 

“Esther!” Miya called out, voice bright. “Anna said you were… um… imposed.” 

“Indisposed?” Esther clarified. She managed half a laugh. 

“Yes! We went to Battery Park and there was dark smoke all over her and I did magic to try and get it off which is a secret I was keeping. The magic, I mean, not the smoke.” Miya paused, and so did Ricky, although his was mostly due to the fact that he had absolutely no clue what to say. He felt like he’d barely gotten a handle on the non-magical part of parenting, that he’d have more time before it came to this. But then Miya asked, “So can you come get me? I’m sorry about the secret,” and he realized he had a more pressing issue. 

They took Kingston’s bus. Esther wanted to teleport, but she acquiesced when Sofia mentioned that it would be good to keep as many spells in the tank as possible, if they were going to be headed to the hoard right away. Besides, it was easy for Suzette to make a pit stop, especially if Kingston was the one asking. Ricky knew that maybe this was a bad idea. They were heading into danger, not out of it, but his kid had asked to be picked up, and he’d promised that he’d always come get her when she asked. And Kingston had explained that the hoard was made to protect special things that meant something to the city of New York. If Miya didn’t fall into that category, what did? 

It also meant that he had a few minutes alone with Esther, which was nice given how much they had to talk about. “So,” Ricky said. “The box of Junior Mints.”

 
Esther squinted at him and said stiffly, “You know I like Junior Mints.” 

“You don’t typically eat them in the bathroom, though,” said Ricky, and that was all it took. Esther slumped forward, her head coming to rest against Ricky’s shoulder. He noticed briefly that her earrings, the little gold hoops she usually wore, were missing, and then he reminded himself it didn’t matter and he brought a hand up, stroked his thumb along the back of her neck. “I’m excited.” 

“That’s it?” Esther said. Her voice was muffled in the fabric of Ricky’s T-shirt. 

“Does there need to be more? I can be not excited, if you’re not excited.” 

She picked her head up to look at Ricky, eyes watery. “I didn’t mean- I don’t even know how I feel. I love you, and you’re a great dad, but is this the right time? Or is it what’s right for our family, with everything going on? Am I…” her voice wavered, and she paused, swallowed thickly. “Am I gonna be a good mom?” 

Ricky laughed. It would’ve sent Esther into a tailspin if she hadn’t known him as well as she did. It was all surprise, and incredulity, and he chased it by saying, “You’re already a great mom.” 

“I’m not a mom,” Esther corrected.

“On a technicality, sure. But if you’re worried about that, and about the timing, I’ve done this before, and this really isn’t that bad. It’s mostly whether or not you’re excited.” 

The bus stopped to let someone on, a girl in her early 20s with a tote bag of groceries slung over her shoulder. It gave Esther the time to slow down, breathe in, take stock of her emotions the way she could really only do when she was tucked into Ricky’s side. She said, “Yeah, I’m excited.” 

“Hell yeah!” Ricky said, loud enough that the entire front half of the bus turned to look at them. He didn’t noticed, was too busy kissing Esther messily on the cheek and saying, “Can I tell everyone? I’m going to tell them. They kind of already know, but I’m so excited to tell them.”

Then there was congratulations. From everyone, all in a row: Sofia and Dale, who wouldn’t or couldn’t let go of each other long enough to give individual hugs so Esther ended up squeezed between both of them, and Pete, who also extended congratulations from Cody, who stood awkwardly behind him but did seem genuinely happy for them, and Kingston, who gave his classic, ridiculously kindhearted embrace. It felt like if being dunked into a cup of bodega coffee was only a good thing, and not a boiling nightmare. Rowan was too busy talking to Suzette about the shows that had been in previews since she was gone, but once she caught up, it was all cheek kisses and promises of gifts both material and magical that she assured both Esther and Ricky she’d strong-arm them into accepting. 

It was overwhelming and perfect and then Miya was there with Emiko and JJ and it was even more so. Miya sat in Ricky’s lap with her legs kicked out onto Esther’s. She managed about ten minutes of chatter about her afternoon—the cab ride, talking with Anna, the hot bright spell she’d cast that Ricky thought was probably Protection from Evil and Good—before she squinted at Esther and said, “Why is everyone smiling at you so hard?” 

Esther looked to Ricky, who just grinned and raised his eyebrows. “We’re not supposed to tell people this early,” she said.

Miya, immediately, burst out, “I just told you my big secret, though”

And how could Esther argue with that? “We just found out,” she explained, “and we still have a lot of thinking to do about how it’s all going to work, but I’m most likely going to have a baby, who would be your sibling.” 

For a second, Miya was quiet and still, and Esther thought she’d ruined everything. But then she cocked her head to the side and said, “That’s cool. I would get to name the baby, right?” 

“No,” Ricky said, quick but gentle. “That’s our job.” 

“Could I teach the baby about swords?” 

“You could give the baby their middle name,” Esther said, to compromise and also to get the conversation far away from any possibility that her newborn might be given any kind of blade. 

Miya paused, considered. “I don’t have a middle name,” she said finally.

“That’s great, then. When the baby’s ready, they can give you a middle name, too, and then everything will be fair,” Ricky said. Esther covered her laugh with her fist.

“No, that’s not fair, because the baby won’t know anything and might give me a really stupid middle name. Like Glorp.”

“How about this,” said Esther. “You give the baby their middle name, and then when they turn seven and a half, they can give you yours. Does that feel fair?” 

It did, apparently, because Miya had wriggled off Ricky’s lap in a matter of seconds so she could run around the bus and ask people for name suggestions. Pete kept saying he thought Glorp would be cute, because he was a rascal and a no-good eavesdropper, but at least he wasn’t saying Sasuke like Cody. “We’re vetoing that one, right?” Sofia said from her place next to Dale. 

The next thirty minutes they spent on the bus were among the best of Ricky’s life. Everything wasn’t perfect—he would’ve loved a truly quiet moment to make sure Esther was okay, time to talk to Miya about her mom, a way to heal from the injuries Tony had inflicted that wasn’t just forcing his way through it with brute strength—but the way his life came into focus in front of his eyes was better than perfect, if that were possible. He looked at the silver bat leaning against his seat and felt calm, sure.

He’d spent so long wondering what his purpose was, agonizing over his identity, and here it was. The bat was a weapon, sure, but it was also something he could use to play his daughter’s favorite sport. It was a memory of the first time he’d met the love of his life, how awestruck he’d been by her combat boots. It could knock down a rogue spell, and it could stop someone in their tracks, and Ricky could also carry it around the city without worrying that it was dangerous or scary, or that he’d get stopped on the subway. 

He was still sitting and thinking quietly, Esther half dozing on his shoulder, when Kingston walked over and took a seat across from him. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, imposing even if he wasn’t big, and Esther excused herself to go talk to Sofia about the merits of pretending a pregnancy test was a box of candy.

Kingston said, “I understand if you want to ask Suzette to make a stop before we get to the hoard.”

It took Ricky a second to understand what he was being told, but as soon as he got it he said, “No, of course not. I’m coming with you.”

“You and your whole family,” Kingston said. His eyes darted to where Esther was already laughing with Sofia and, with more gravity, towards Miya. JJ was teaching her how to play some kind of magical Candy Crush in his spellbook while Cody looked on and made bad suggestions. Ricky knew Kingston could see something different about her, something that only the Vox Populi could see. “You’ve given enough already.” 

“That’s not how this works,” Ricky insisted. 

But Kingston wasn’t going to give up that easily, and he sat back a little to say, “We decide how things work, and I love that child almost as much as you do. I don’t want her seeing anything bad, and I won’t even think about her getting hurt.”

 
“She’s gonna love your kid,” Ricky said. He knew he was sidestepping the subject, that there was an argument hovering around him that he would need, eventually, to engage in, but he was so happy. The bus was full of the future, and he didn’t want to be brought back to the present quite yet. 

“Doesn’t get a say in naming him, though,” Kingston said, but it was only a momentary diversion. He pressed, “It might be scary down there. We’re putting all our cards on the table.” 

“One of those cards is your child,” Ricky reminded him.

“My dragon child.” 

The egg, although it was packed carefully in with blankets and first aid supplies, poked out of Kingston’s backpack a little. Ricky’s connection with the totems had given him a little glimpse of what was inside the swirls of spray paint that decorated the shell, and so he said, “One day they’ll be a dragon. Right now they’re just a baby.” 

“I’m not gonna convince you to go home, am I,” Kingston said, more of a statement of resignation than a question. Ricky shook his head, and Kingston heaved a sigh.

“Today made it pretty obvious Gladiator doesn’t draw the line at kidnapping, and I don’t know what Anna’s told them. I don’t think there’s anyone who can take her that they don’t know about.” It was the logical explanation, but there was also the simple one, which came from the fact that Ricky didn’t want to have to say goodbye to his daughter again. “I also think, like… she wants to be with her family, and after everything that’s been going on for the past few weeks, and even just today, there probably isn’t a safer place for her to be. And she’ll get to meet her cousin, which is awesome.”

Kingston leaned back in his seat, tipping his head back so it rested ever so slightly on the window behind him. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this scared going into a fight before,” he admitted. 

“It sucks,” Ricky said, because it did. But there was more to it that he was still working through, as evidenced by the months of frustration and the silver bat at his feet.“I think, for the past three years, I’ve been trying to make up for the fact that I died in Times Square.” 

Kingston blinked. “You were gone for less than a minute.” 

“Have you ever-?” Ricky started. Kingston shook his head. “Okay, so for me it was like nothing. I woke up and people told me my body had been tossed around and that you saved me. There wasn’t any kind of profound moment, or flash of light. I just wasn’t there anymore, and then I was. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

“Hey, no problem.” 

“I was fine for a while, because we’d saved the world and that was kind of the main thing on my mind, but after a while I started to feel like, why me? Cause the city chose me as its champion like I should’ve gone down swinging, and I gave up the Questing Blade, and I just felt like I had to make it up to everyone. Especially Miya, who, damn”—Ricky paused to scrub at his eyes with the sleeve of his T-shirt—“I let her down the most. And I tried a bunch of stuff. I started Helping Hands, and I tried finding a way to help people without hurting anyone, but over and over I feel like situations keep telling me that’s not right. The whole inheritor of the rat druid thing felt wrong, and I needed to hit Tony. That was the right thing to do. The problem is that I’m still trying to sacrifice my life to save everyone else’s when that was never what the city asked me for.”

Kingston ran a hand over his face, waited a long moment before he responded. “I wish you’d have talked to me, man.” 

Ricky shrugged. “I wasn’t talking to anyone. That was the whole point.” 

“So what’s the solution, then?” 

Another shrug. “I don’t know.” 

“Come on,” Kingston said, “you were telling that story like you learned something big at the end that was gonna help me figure out my shit.” 

“My kid cast magic on someone she was scared of, and instead of asking it to hurt them, she asked it to help,” Ricky said slowly, still figuring it out himself. “I’m starting to think the point is that you can’t really protect other people unless you’re willing to let them do the same thing for you.”

There was a long pause, and then Kingston said, “Do you mean that I have to let my infant son protect me reciprocally in order to be a good parent?” 

“Your dragon infant son,” Ricky said, and then, “maybe, I don’t really know. I’m still working on my theory. I also fully plan on making Miya invisible and hiding her in the safest corner I can find, which I don’t think fits in with anything I just said. But she’s also seven, so, rules go out the window.” 

“After we get off this bus and kick this thing’s ass, will you promise to give me some normal parenting advice?” Kingston asked.

“For sure,” Ricky said, right as the bus pulled to a stop. He’d walked this block countless times in the past few weeks looking for the hoard, they all had. But somehow they’d missed the entrance that now stood cavernous and dark in the middle of the sidewalk, a subway entrance where there had never been one before. 

The hoard was beautiful and strange, but everyone was preoccupied with the worry that there was something coming up the tunnel behind them. Even Miya was subdued as they walked through the various chambers, monuments to a city she was just beginning to understand belonged to her as much as she belonged to it. Halfway through, she started to slow down, and Ricky crouched so he could give her a piggyback ride the rest of the way.

It wasn’t without its lovely moments, though. Sofia gave a magic apple each to Ricky and Miya. Pete came out of an automat talking about a beautiful Dutch woman who lived in the wall. Kingston stumbled upon the final chamber full of subway tokens just as worn and used as his own, a testament to how many people had used these tunnels to get from place to place, to and from the people they loved. Everyone watched as he set the egg down in the middle of the room at the exact moment Dale called out from the entrance of the tunnel: “I hear something coming!” 

Ricky set Miya down and turned to look at everyone, circled around where Kingston knelt with one hand on the dragon’s egg. Many of them were still beat up from the fight at Gramercy. Everyone knew how much their last fight like this had taken. Before Ricky could speak, Rowan put a hand on Miya’s shoulder and said, “You’re with me, kid.” 

She was still in her immaculate yellow pantsuit, short enough that Miya didn’t have to crane her neck to meet her eye at full height. Her American flag pin glimmered in the light from the golden subway tokens. For some reason Ricky didn’t understand, she’d kept her enormous hat on even though they were underground and there was no sun to protect against. Even he had to admit that she cut an impressive figure against the trinkets that lined the walls, and it seemed like Miya had come to the same conclusion. 

Rowan squeezed Miya’s shoulder with her small, elegant hand and flashed a very white smile. “We’re staying with the egg to make sure it can hatch safely,” she explained. 

The first thing Miya did was look to Ricky, and only when he nodded did she answer: “I can only be magic when I’m really scared.” 

“I was hoping you’d help with the ritual,” Rowan said easily. “Like if anyone needs anything, or that unicorn refuses to work without some water or a Diet Coke, you could help me grab it.”

“Thank you,” Ricky muttered to Rowan, and then he knelt on the pile of coins. He tidied Miya’s hair as best he could, and undid the zip of her blue and orange puffer, since it wasn’t that cold in the tunnels and sometimes when she tried to do it, it got stuck. “I love you a lot, okay? And I’ll promise to be safe if you do.” 

“I promise,” Miya said, solemn.

Ricky gave her a kiss on the forehead, something he’d done a million times, except this time when he pulled back she was no longer visible. It took him a few seconds longer than he’d hoped to let go, but when he did, it was all trust. In Rowan, in Kingston, in Pete, who were staying near his daughter, and in Sofia, in Cody, in Dale and Esther and JJ, who were headed with him to the tunnel’s mouth to fight whatever was coming towards them. 

He planted his feet. He hefted his baseball bat. He felt totally and irrevocably himself, and this time, when he faced Null, that stayed true. He stayed in his body to see wraiths and robots pour into the hoard, to see people go down and be helped back up, to see Kingston stumble and reach his hands deep into the sea of subway tokens, suffused with the warm light of an apartment window shining in the dark. 

Reach out, Ricky thought, and then as the light started to become colder, dimmer, he turned towards Pete and said it out loud. The fire of Pete’s magic joined the hearth of Kingston’s. And the energy of the city exploded into the cavern just in time to hear a baby crying. There was still so much work to do, so many robots to break and Null’s body, or whatever approximation they could see of it, to dispatch. Iga came back, and the wraiths flickered into death, the suited silhouette of Null faltered, then fell. It wasn’t truly over, though, until he ran back, Esther on his heels, to make sure Miya was okay. 

She was visible, which confused Ricky for a split second until he saw that she had a chubby fist wrapped around one finger, a shimmer of gold around them both. The spell he’d cast wasn’t strong enough to withstand other magic breaking through it, and it was clear that Miya was doing everything she could to protect this baby. She pointed very quietly to him, nestled in Kingston’s arms, just to make sure Ricky was seeing it. 

“I’d like to introduce everyone here to Langston Brown,” Kingston said. Miya hopped in her place just once, toeing the line between being excited and being calm for the baby. 

Ricky reached behind him for Esther, who he wasn’t surprised to find crying quietly. “I’m so excited,” he said softly into her hair, and he didn’t specify because he didn’t need to. Their whole future was spread out in front of them, all of it, and Ricky had never been smart but he’d always had good instincts. This time, they were telling him that it was good stuff ahead, so much good stuff he’d almost forget to be grateful for it. Watching everyone step forward and meet Langston, and the way Miya couldn’t tear her eyes away from the perfect half moons of his fingernails, Ricky was inclined to believe them. 

epilogue: three years later

Miya bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, waiting impatiently at the crosswalk for the rest of her family. “You’re walking so slow,” she complained, and even though it was true Esther still gave her a look. Al was only two and a half, which meant it was unreasonable to ask her to walk much faster than she already was, and Ricky was giving Ox time to sniff before they got to the park. Every time Miya asked if he really needed to sniff every single fire hydrant and telephone pole, since he was just made of light, Ricky would just shrug and say dogs needed exercise. 

She loved her family, but sometimes they were too much, which is why she wanted to get to the picnic as fast as possible. Nick and Jess would be there, and Pete with Maddie and probably a new book for Miya to read. She wasn’t crazy about knights anymore—she still liked them fine, but she was more into marine biology, now—but she still loved swords, and was as good with them as her mom and dad would let her be, given the fact that she was ten and fifth graders generally had more normal hobbies. 

Because she wanted to move faster, and also because she loved her sister more that anything else in the world, Miya slung Al over her shoulder and ran the last two blocks to the park. Al giggled wildly in her ear the whole time. Langston was already there with his parents, so Miya passed Al to Kingston (she stopped long enough to give him a hug, too, because she loved him and wasn’t a monster) and headed towards the food to see who else she could find. 

Dee was halfway through a borscht bite when Miya called out, delighted, “I didn’t know you’d be here!”

They flashed a smile that was all braces and shrugged. “My mom’s client canceled. Had second thoughts about going fully platinum, I guess.” 

“And is she, still, like…” Miya lowered her voice and waved her hands around. “Trying to wrap her head around all this?” 

“No, oh my God, I have to tell you! My grandma came over the other week, and apparently she knows Willy, that golem? So I guess whatever’s going on with me runs in the family,” Dee explained. 

“That’s so cool,” Miya said, and then, when she caught a flash of blonde hair she called out, “Jess! Hey, you gotta hear this!” and Jess, who was fourteen and beautiful and in high school now but still gave Miya the time of day, came striding over along the path. 

Ricky watched it all happen from the grill, only half listening to Iga and Kingston fight about how much food was appropriate to bring as a side. Iga kept brandishing a catering-sized tray of stuffed cabbage and insisting it was just a small snack to tide people over, and Kingston was waving tongs around, and until Sofia showed up to snap her well manicured fingers and demand they get it together, Ricky was sure the argument would continue. 

In the past three years, Miya had shot up a whole foot. She’d gotten glasses and was still trying to remember to wear them, instead of leaving them on every flat surface in the entire city. She was becoming a little less enchanted with her loft bed, which made it possible for her to share a room with her sister and was, Ricky agreed, more fun in theory than in practice. 

There were some bigger changes, too. Anna called from San Francisco every other Sunday. Miya had started calling Esther Mom when Al did, without any sort of revelation of teary moment. She was the catcher on her 10 and under baseball team, and they’d made it to the city semifinals, everyone screaming from the bleachers while Ricky coached first base and was completely out of his depth. Things were good, Ricky decided as he paused any contemplation to greet Cat when she showed up, Dale at her heels trying to get her to slow down and lace up her shoes. 

He looked around at the people in front of him: Esther and Sofie were swinging Al between them while she screamed laughing, Cat chasing behind them demanding her turn. Miya and Nick were sparring using branches as swords while Dee and Jess chucked acorns at them to throw them off their game. Maddie and Liz were letting Iga read their palms and right next to them Pete steadied Langston on his shoulders, explaining to him that if he reached just a little bit higher, he might be able to grab a bit of sunlight. Kingston was teaching Cody how to grill while JJ nervously introduced his new partner to Dale.

In ten minutes, Ricky knew he’d hold up a wiffle ball bat, get a game going. For now, though, he decided to enjoy the view. He had his family’s back, and they had his. And it was a truly enormous family, so he thought that for a long time—if not forever—he’d have nothing to worry about.