Grimoire was standing strong. Another night, another extended Hollow Hour, and not a single death recorded.
There were casualties, certainly. More casualties than anyone would like. And with the battles raging on longer and longer, with Hollow Hour continuing to extend, all of Grimoire was being stretched to the breaking point. For all intents and purposes, Grimoire was a city with war in its streets, every single night. And a city with war in its streets was a city that could easily break, not from physical domination, but from fear, tension, exhaustion, and panic.
Minds and hearts were far frailer than bodies. Particularly in times like these.
It was with this understanding that a former Shadow — one of Blaise’s closest followers and friends, who had not too long ago been an enemy of Grimoire — sat in Lunar Plaza, the centerpoint of Grimoire and the primary operations headquarters for the Grimoire Guard, working on the finishing touches on her masterpiece.
Sieglinde sat at the central fountain, her eyes closed, her head bowed, her hair a waterfall of golden curls, her serene face the picture of tranquil concentration. She didn’t look as if she’d been fighting day in and day out — she was immaculately clean, and dressed in a perfectly clean winter dress beneath a coat so smooth and pristine it could have been brand new. But that was simply her way of doing things, always presenting herself as best as possible.
She held her hands clasped in her lap, lightly gripping her Talisman, an old — far older than it looked, for it was well cared-for — book on Norse mythology. It was entirely written in Norwegian. This specific volume had never been translated into English, or any other languages; Sieglinde had, in fact, the only copy that still existed.
Her breaths came slow, steady, calm. No one would notice the strain of battle, nor the strain of her current silent endeavor, unless they sat right next to her in silence, and heard the faintest hesitation in her breathing, a slight sharp gasp of pain — the barest of whispers — at the end of each inhale.
Through the hustle and bustle of the Plaza, Stride approached. He wore three multi-sheaths of his own design, boxes that each sheathed five swords — one on each hip, and one on his back. All fifteen swords were present and accounted for. His wide-brimmed straw hat was tilted low, cocked slightly to the side of his normal, Human eye. Most who saw him in passing would only see the eyepatch that covered the eye that revealed his heritage to the world.
He and Sieglinde both were Halfchants. Human fathers, Enchanted mothers. So were Bronn, Doctor, and Anastasia, the only remaining Shadows — former Shadows — that had followed Blaise for centuries.
They were also lifelong residents of Grimoire, who long ago had fought desperate battles with heavy losses to save their city from all manner of dangerous foes, culminating with their massive battle — like so many of their exploits, lost to history — with Leon the first time. Before his exile into the Enchanted Dominion. Before he’d begun calling himself the Radiant King.
Stride came to a stop in front of Sieglinde. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Sieglinde smiled, but did not open her eyes. “I am quite well, thank you,” she said softly. “In fact, I think Yggdrasil is finally ready.”
Stride raised an eyebrow. “You mean… what you tried to do before? When we fought Leon the first time?”
“Yes. I didn’t have enough time back then. It’s more complicated than I thought. And I had nowhere near the time or experience. But all is well, now. Yggdrasil’s taken root properly. Grimoire is hers, and she is Grimoire’s. In a moment…” She opened her eyes and looked up at Stride, smiling. “Yes. It’s time.”
And Stride, not accustomed to displaying much in the way of emotion, couldn’t contain his astonishment as Sieglinde completed her work. He’d seen Yggdrasil many times before, but never like this, never in all its beautiful splendor. He’d dreamed of this day just as Sieglinde had, but he’d never thought it would actually come.
For all his power, and the power he knew Sieglinde had, he’d never dreamed it possible.
“Oh,” Sieglinde said, breathless. “Oh, she’s marvelous.” And she laughed, a laugh that brightened the hearts of all who heard it.
And if that didn’t do it, well — seeing what Sieglinde had accomplished, seeing Yggdrasil in this way, certainly did.
“Light,” Stride said softly, gazing up at the golden light that filled the sky. “Light to banish the night.”
It’s exactly what we need right now.
——
The Goodnight Express flew along through the vast, expansive universe. Not just the Human universe, either — through the Enchanted Dominion as well, through Locations varied and astonishing.
But as Caleb watched the world go by, he remembered the words of Ariadne, the leader of the Weavers. She’d said that what he thought of as the “universe” was, in more accurate terms, simply “the world.”
All of this is just one… world? Are there multiple worlds out there, or…?
He let that thought wander away. His own world was already so big, and it was this world — his world — that faced so much danger and peril. The Endless Night was coming.
And Sal was coming — to Grimoire.
The Goodnight Express couldn’t go fast enough for Caleb’s tastes. Did they have enough time? And when it came to a fight, finally, against Sal, the Lord of Night himself… could they hold him back? Caleb didn’t dare hope they could win, because victory, as far as he was concerned, wasn’t something they would attain in battle. Not against forces this great.
No. Their hopes for victory lay in the hands of his baby sister.
We’re all counting on you, Delilah.
She was a notable absence from the Goodnight Express. Even though Caleb, Chelsea, Gwen, Lorelei, Will, Addie, and even Mister Midnight were here alongside Hestia, Artemis, Athena, and Galahad, between three open compartments feeling like quite a lively bunch…
Not having Delilah here, along with her team — Alice, Marcus, Isabelle, Maribelle, and Terevalde — felt so strange. But it made sense.
“The Lingering Will hasn’t fully recovered yet, but it will,” Delilah had said back at the Library of Solitude. “I… I can’t come with you to Grimoire. It’s after me. And so far, we don’t have anything that can stop it.”
She’d been holding back tears on the train platform, and Caleb had done his best to comfort her. But her desire to come with them wasn’t a simple “I want to go home.” Not at all. When they’d learned that Sal was coming to Grimoire, that had set off lightbulbs for Delilah, Alice, and Marcus.
“The Darkness in the well beneath Grimoire… you said it was waiting,” Delilah had said.
“Oh, yeah!” Alice had said, looking up at Marcus. “Do you think it was waiting for him?”
“I can’t think of anything more fitting,” Marcus had said with a grim expression. And he’d told Caleb and the others of what they’d found beneath Grimoire, the source of the flood of Darkness that had nearly swallowed up Lorelei, Gwen, and Will after they’d slain Kaohlad. Marcus had been able to contain the Darkness within its well, but it wouldn’t last.
It was waiting for the Lord of Night. And when he arrived, there was likely nothing that would be able to fully contain it.
We’re not just in danger of invasion from the most powerful foe we’ll ever face. We’re in danger from a dark sickness beneath the city itself. Enemies without and within…
Can we buy Delilah the time she needs?
Caleb sat back, listening to the scattered chatter.
Chelsea and Lorelei were talking, softly so Caleb didn’t catch much of their conversation. Not far from them, Gwen was up on her seat, leaning on the back of it and speaking with Hestia and her crew. Gwen’s former hatred for the Radiance was steeped in deep personal tragedy, and yet here she was, reaching out to her former foes.
Let it go.
That was the secret that both Chelsea and Gwen had discovered in the darkness of the Library of Solitude. Both of them had struggled with such anger, such grief, such rage. And they’d learned to let it go. Into that vacancy in their hearts had poured an overflow of love. Love that helped them forgive, that helped them see the world more clearly than ever, and to offer grace to those they’d once fiercely opposed.
It’s just like Chelsea was saying back at the Library. Change is in the air.
It was also love that had helped Hestia see the wickedness of her king and stand against him — love for Annabelle, who had been a prisoner of the Radiance, and love for her comrades, her lifelong friends, who she couldn’t bear to see continue a cycle of wanton violence and destruction for ideals that had become so twisted.
Addie’s voice came clearly through the other, more muted conversation. She was speaking very enthusiastically with Mister Midnight regarding her research at the Library of Solitude into bladed weaponry, reviving her earlier complaints about Midnight focusing on daggers. “Swords are so much better!” was the main crux of her argument, though she was backing that argument up with quite a number of well-researched facts. And Midnight was treating with her like an equal rather than like a little kid, countering her arguments and getting her thinking about other perspectives, while thoughtfully considering what she threw his way.
It was love that had saved Addie, too. Caleb had himself learned what rage was, when Duo had threatened Delilah, and he’d tried to hunt her down. But it was only through seeing what was really going on — and reaching out in love to a scared, imprisoned little girl — that he was able to properly conquer that foe.
And through that, he’d gained a future daughter. And through her — and his recent engagement to Chelsea — all that was at stake became more powerfully clear to him than ever before.
It’s the ones we love, and the future we hope to have with those we love. Chelsea, Addie, and I promised each other a life together, a life we haven’t even gotten to start yet. Delilah and Alice only just barely started being sisters — they have so much more to learn about each other, so much more life to live together. Fae has to properly get her body back, return to the life she was forced from, alongside all the amazing new friends she’s made along the way. Shana and Shias and their Dawn Riders haven’t even graduated high school; they have so much life left to live.
We can’t let Sal win. We can’t let the Endless Night deny us a future full of love.
For each other, and for our home.
Grimoire.
Caleb’s heart ached for his city. His city. He so easily called it that, but not as if he had ownership over it. It was an expression of just how important Grimoire, the city of his birth, his home, was to him. He loved Grimoire. He wanted to, alongside Chelsea, help Addie grow to love Grimoire, too, watch her grow up in the city that meant so much to the two of them.
And…
A fist lightly pressed against his forehead. Caleb chuckled, looked up to see Will staring at him. “You okay?” Will asked, slowly pulling back his hand.
“Yup,” Caleb said, smiling as he returned the gesture, bumping his knuckles lightly against Will’s forehead.
…I’ve got a friend I love so much. And I’ve really let him down. We need to win, so I have a chance to read the rest of his books — and every single one he writes in the future.
“How far are you on the latest?” Caleb asked. For of course, Will had his laptop in his lap, and had spent most of the train ride typing away.
“Just about done with the third draft,” Will said. “It’s coming together really well. When this is all over… no.” He looked out the window, his pale blue eyes reflecting the colorful whirling nebulae outside. “If we have two days before the big battle comes… yeah. I’ll have it done by then.”
Caleb stared at Will, and his heart soared.
Hope. Hope for the future.
When darkness was closing in, when the end may be right on their doorstep…
Will was planting a tree. A promise, born of hope, that the end would not come. Not today.
A sudden blur of stars and colors outside heralded the passage into a new place, and was soon accompanied by a warm female voice over the train’s intercom. “Arriving shortly at Grimoire. Car One, prepare to disembark.”
It was a special trip, under Midnight’s instructions, solely for the passengers of Car One, the foremost car of the Goodnight Express.
Home. Home was just around the corner. And when the wild blur of color and light faded, Caleb sat up, fixed his eyes out the window… and gaped.
“Holy cow,” he breathed, staring wide-eyed.
“You can say that again,” Lorelei said, staring with him.
“Holy cow,” Chelsea obliged in Caleb’s stead, coming over to press her face against the window. And from below, wiggling between Caleb and Chelsea…
“I wanna see,” said Addie, struggling to find her way up. Breaking through, her head popped up, her heterochromatic eyes gazed out the window, and she gasped. “Oh… oh wow.”
They were hundreds of feet over Grimoire, but there was something taller than them, rising up from Grimoire’s Lunar Plaza:
A golden tree.
Its trunk was surprisingly slender for its height, and all the way up the trunk, branches shot out, spreading wide, their golden leaves shedding glittering light onto the city below. At its highest point, the widest branches spread out wider than the borders of Grimoire, ensuring that the whole city was awash in golden light.
On those higher branches, dashing back and forth, was a giant bronze squirrel. Giant for a squirrel, at least, about half as large as Caleb, but Caleb remembered from his past experiences with Ratatosk that he was plenty large enough — and fierce enough — to be quite frightening.
“Okay, hold up, it’s beautiful,” Chelsea said, “but… that squirrel’s dangerous! And there’s a crazy dragon in the roots that doesn’t even listen to his Summoner!”
“It looks like the city’s okay, though,” Will said.
Lorelei smiled. “Maybe she got a handle on her Summons. Remember, Sieglinde’s on our side, now.”
“Yeah, she is,” Chelsea said, pouting slightly. “It’s kinda hard to wrap my head around that. I was the main target of her squirrel and her dragon, remember.”
“You almost got eaten by a dragon?” Addie asked, more amazed than worried. Chelsea shoved her hand in the girl’s face, and Addie dodged, giggling.
“She finally did it,” said Hestia from the next compartment over.
“She’s been trying that for a long time?” Chelsea asked. “Hey, wait, how do you know what she was trying to do?”
“Oh, we… were friends, once,” Hestia said, bowing her head. “Before our K— before Leon drew his line in the sand, and we followed him… most of us were friends with Blaise and his forces, too, back then. Sieglinde and I were particularly close. She… she often talked about having Yggdrasil be a sort of ‘world tree’ for Grimoire, a constant shelter and defense for the city we loved.”
“So, what, hundreds of years later, she finally managed it?” Chelsea asked, and then shook her head. “I can’t wrap my head around your ages.”
“You’ve adjusted perfectly well to me,” Gwen said.
“Yeah, but you’re an Enchanted,” Chelsea said. “And… it’s weird to hear these kinds of stories from people who were also born in Grimoire. It’s just… I know the city’s old, I know its history — well, what we were taught of it, what we actually knew of it — but having people around me who lived that history? That’s just… freaking crazy.”
“Freaking crazy!” Addie said, grinning.
“Why are you saying it so happily?” Chelsea asked.
“Because I like crazy,” Addie said, gazing up at Chelsea. “Why do you think I like you?” Caleb burst out laughing while Chelsea pouted rather fiercely, and then Addie turned her attention on Caleb. “And you! You’re the craziest of them all.” Caleb’s laughter abruptly ceased, as he stared at Addie with his mouth hanging open, and it was Chelsea’s turn to laugh.
“She’s got you there,” Chelsea said.
“Well, as long as you like it,” Caleb said, slowly smiling.
“Things have changed,” Will said, his eyes fixed on the window. The rest of them looked back out the window, as the Goodnight Express came down to street level, slowing to a stop.
They disembarked on Grimoire’s southeast “corner,” near one of the major streets that ran past Greyson Manor. As soon as they were off the train, Chelsea’s owl leapt from her shoulders and soared into the sky, relishing in the sudden expanse of freedom — and the incredible new view of the gigantic Yggdrasil. The rest of them, however, had their eyes on yet another change to the city. There beside the street, standing tall atop dozens of heavily armored mechanical legs, was Greyson Manor, quite a ways from its usual address.
“Take care of yourselves,” Midnight called from the Goodnight Express. He indicated Mineria and Ingrid. “I’ve gotta get these two back to Midnight Bridge. And then…” He gazed into the distance, regret edging his voice. “Well, there are things I should do. Things only I can do, I think.”
“We’ll handle Grimoire,” Caleb said, flashing a confident grin. “Don’t you worry. Do what you need to do. Whatever fight happens here, it isn’t…” He trailed off.
Midnight nodded. “Right. Yeah, you’re right.” He pointed sharply at Caleb. “Don’t you dare die, kid. You got that?”
Caleb nodded firmly. “Yes, sir!”
Midnight smirked, then turned rather dramatically, his long coat billowing out around him like the cape of a knightly hero. He boarded the train again alongside Mineria and Ingrid, and the Goodnight Express sped off into the distance, vanishing into thin air.
“Well, better figure out what’s going on here,” Chelsea said.
“Right,” Caleb said, turning to Greyson Manor and craning his neck to look up its immense height. He waved in big, wide motions. “Hello! Anybody in there?”
“Well if it isn’t one of my two favorite grandsons!” came a warm voice that made Caleb’s heart soar. Stepping out onto the high balcony connected to the Manor’s control center for its mobile form was Oscar William Greyson III, Callum’s father and Caleb’s grandfather. His snowy white hair was clipped short, his blue eyes glittered with a lively light, and he laughed readily and warmly. “Welcome back, Caleb! And welcome back to all of the rest of you! It’s good to see you all safe and sound.”
Caleb leapt up to his grandfather, using a pair of springboard Mobility discs to launch himself up to the balcony. He hugged Oscar tight, and then pulled back, looking hopefully into the control center. “Are Mom and Dad —” he started.
“Oh, they’re busy further in,” Oscar said, nodding towards the city proper. “Callum’s returned to being a Hunter, and Deirdre’s the commander-in-chief, so to speak, of the Grimoire Guard.”
“Commander-in-chief?” Caleb asked. “What’s… what’s been going on while we were gone?”
“Oh, a great deal,” Oscar said. “It’s better you see for yourself. I’m staying out here, though — I have the distinct pleasure of aiding in Grimoire’s exterior defense. If foes come from without, they won’t make it into the city easily. And we’ll be able to let everyone else know — and buy them time to reinforce us — quite quickly.”
“We?” Caleb asked. And as he looked along the perimeter of the city, he saw Rook Manor, and Shoto Manor, and several others, spaced widely but forming a defensive ring around Grimoire. “All… all of the Manors do that?”
“They all do, though not all have been deployed,” Oscar said. “Crowley Manor has charges of its own that need to be kept safe. Mathers Manor can’t be accessed by any but Blaise, and he’s still being kept in the deepest, most secure cell in the Cove. But there are enough of us. If we brought more out here, that would only deprive the city itself of more hands that it desperately needs.”
“Things are that bad?”
“Oh, it’s a mix of good and bad,” Oscar said, a twinkle in his eye. “Go on in. See the city, see the people, see your parents. You’ll understand better. And I assume you didn’t come back just to say hello and leave again?”
“No,” Caleb said, shaking his head. He stepped up onto the balcony rail, and then off onto a Mobility disc. He smiled at Oscar. “We’re here to help.” And then he leapt into the winter air, using a few Mobility discs to give him a safe and smooth landing back in the snow with the others, whom he addressed. “Let’s head on in. See just how much it’s changed.”
“Where do we even start?” Addie asked, taking Caleb and Chelsea’s hands.
“Follow the signs, kiddo,” Chelsea said, pointing. Sure enough, at the nearest entrance to one of Grimoire’s narrow lanes, a sign pointed the way to “Guard Operations HQ.” They followed where the signs indicated, and as they entered the city proper, now beneath the boughs of Yggdrasil, golden motes of light tumbled down like shining fairies, dancing here and there, reflected beautifully in the snow. Here beneath Yggdrasil’s branches, it was impossible to see the veil of darkness that curtained the sky.
Along the way, they saw more signs. They continued to follow those that pointed to “Guard Operations HQ,” but there were other signs that pointed elsewhere to places like “Guard Medical HQ,” “Scout Post Taurus,” “Scout Post Aquarius,” “Academy Medical Center,” and “Safe Zone Gemini,” among many more. There were also signs that indicated the paths to take for “Culinary Transport,” “Medical Transport,” and more. And as they walked, they learned just how much the city had changed.
People were running to and fro, and there were numerous cyclists taking cycling lanes that had been painstakingly cleared of snow and ice. Those in hurried motion almost always wore backpacks or messenger bags full to bursting, and many of them moved in groups, talking animatedly with each other, or were on their phones talking just as animatedly. People had different armbands with color-and-symbol-coding. There was the classic white with a red cross for medical personnel, but there were also medical armbands with an extra blue band along the bottom, which, after some asking along the way, was revealed to signify “civilian medical personnel.”
“Civilian?” Caleb wondered aloud as they walked.
“They’re differentiating between mages and non-mages,” Lorelei said, pointing out a sign posted on a brick wall they passed. “Since they can’t fight, but are otherwise able to assist the Grimoire Guard, they’re dubbed civilians.”
“It’s not just mages that are helping protect the city, huh?” Caleb asked. And as he paid more attention, he realized that the number of civilians he saw — whether medical personnel, or culinary personnel, or “resource liaisons,” seemed to be far greater than non-civilians. Blue-banded armbands were the majority.
Mages only make up about thirty-five to forty percent of Grimoire’s population. But they’d have all hands on deck among mages. So then…
“Everyone’s helping,” Caleb said, gaping all around as he continued through the bustling narrow streets. Men and women, from adolescents to the still-fit elderly were walking and running this way and that, or manning intersections, calling out directions and answering questions. At larger intersections were small canopied booths manned by teams of two or three handing out water bottles and other drinks to passersby that needed them, and there were other booths offering healthy snacks alongside energy and protein bars. Caleb recognized nearly every single face, though he could only put names to a scant handful of them. Grocers, librarians, shopkeepers, mail carriers, musicians, technicians, managers, office workers… everyone had turned out to help in whatever way they could. And while the narrow streets were bustling, they weren’t crowded or congested. Traffic was directed expertly, and people were adept at maneuvering around each other safely.
And something in Caleb’s heart soared. The streets of Grimoire weren’t easy to memorize or navigate. “The City of Knowledge” was Grimoire’s nickname for several reasons, but one of them was the great deal of knowledge — and memory — needed to find your way around the city. If so many people were able to get around so quickly, so easily, only occasionally asking for directions…
Grimoire’s their home, too. It’s so easy to forget. But they were always here, all around me, every single day. Most of them have lived here their whole lives, too. And they’ve never had magic to help them zip around above and across rooftops.
This is their city.
They eventually emerged onto the main street that cut through Grimoire north-to-south, from the southern main gate to the northern Crater District. Wide enough for the trolley that was just passing by as well as two lanes for cars and even then sidewalk space for up to seven people abreast, this was Grimoire’s main drag, and it was bustling just like the rest of the city. For one of the only times in Caleb’s life, he saw cars driving up and down the main street — nearly everyone got around by foot or bicycle, and for faster trips down the main street, there was the trolley. But now he saw cars, vans, buses, and proper ambulances emblazoned with the medical cross, or the simple culinary logo of a steaming plate of food, or the logo of a pen and paper for miscellaneous resources. They drove quickly but not recklessly, minding the space and the crowds of pedestrians. And the trolley itself was decked out with a medical cross, too. As Caleb and the rest of them neared Lunar Plaza — Grimoire Guard Operations HQ — they understood why they were seeing so many medical symbols and personnel.
The fighting in Grimoire had clearly been fierce, for quite some number of days. Caleb only knew that Hollow Hour had been lengthening, but he didn’t know how far it had gone since he’d last been to Grimoire. The fighting had taken such a toll that even now, in the middle of the day, many wounded were still being given field treatment and prepared for being taken to a hospital. Caleb heard that term come up — “a hospital” — and it surprised him. Grimoire only had one hospital.
“Grimoire Hospital is too full,” said a nurse taking a brief break. Sweat beaded his brow, and he drank long from a water bottle. “We’ve turned the Academy and the University into hospitals, as well as the mall’s west wing.”
“So many patients?” Lorelei asked. “What about the Healer Corps?”
“Completely exhausted,” said the nurse, who sported a blue band on his medical armband. “While they rest, us regular doctors and nurses pick up the slack.”
Lorelei immediately took off her coat and rolled up her sleeves. “Who’s in charge?” she asked. The nurse directed her, and Lorelei was off, reporting right in.
“This is nuts,” Chelsea said, taking in the scene in the Lunar Plaza. Here Yggdrasil’s trunk rose up from the ground, glittering gold, beautiful and shining, with archways through the trunk so that its presence didn’t obstruct traffic in the slightest. Yet their attention was soon drawn from the beautiful, giant tree to the controlled chaos that now defined their home city.
Caleb, for his part, had never seen so many people in stretchers and medical cots before, working through a priority list to be loaded onto vehicles and taken to makeshift hospitals nearing capacity. Healing Magic was a fixture of life as a Hunter, and Caleb had been privy to Lorelei’s healing talents before, when she’d saved him from a vicious, poisoned wound by a Piper. Wounds were swiftly treated, and no one ever had to deal with medical rest except the occasional overnight stay due to blood loss or magic-related exhaustion.
But Healing Magic, Caleb knew, took a great mental and physical toll from the Healer. It looked like a miracle, like an easy “cure button” from the outside. But Healing Magic wasn’t a simple “touch and be cured” remedy. The Healer in question needed the same knowledge and expertise regarding the human body as any non-mage surgeon or doctor, knitting bone and tissue back together with painstaking attention.
For the Healer Corps to be entirely exhausted, things must really be wearing on all of them. “But they’re just Hollows,” Chelsea muttered, and Caleb couldn’t deny that he’d started to think the same thing.
“Hollows for one hour are one thing,” said a deep, authoritative voice that made the pair of them jump. They wheeled around to come face-to-face with Jacob Crowley. His dark hair was smoothed back as always, his coat and clothing worn perfectly. But his face betrayed a hint of weariness, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot. “Hollow Hour currently runs from nine at night to two in the morning. And the Hollows are denser and more numerous than you’ve ever seen. We’ve needed all hands that we can spare on deck every single night. It’s wearing on even the best.”
“Well, we’re here to help!” Chelsea said. Caleb, Will and Gwen nodded their agreement, along with Hestia, Artemis, Athena, and Galahad. Even Addie stood up straight, saluting.
“Glad to hear it,” Jacob said. “Hestia, it’s good to have you and your people back. Deirdre is in charge of operations, she’ll get you briefed. Beneath the red canopy.” He pointed, and Hestia and her people took off at a run.
“What about us?” Caleb asked. “Where can we help?”
“Before that…” Will started meaningfully.
“Oh! Right!” Caleb said. Jacob Crowley raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and Caleb began explaining all they knew.
“This Lord of Night is coming to us?” Jacob Crowley asked, seeming unfazed by Caleb’s report. “And there’s a well of Darkness beneath the city that’s likely awaiting his arrival… hmm. And yet, despite that report, we don’t have a single Paladin here with us. From what I’ve heard, their talents may be required for the problem of the well.”
“Probably, sir, but…” Caleb started, bowing his head. “Marcus, Delilah, and Alice can’t come back. Mister Midnight has his own mission. And… nearly all the rest of the Paladins are dead.”
“So you said,” Jacob Crowley replied. “All right, then. We’ll just have to monitor it. Reiner, you and Gwen were able to save the Library of Solitude from Darkness, correct? This well of Darkness may not be beyond our abilities, then. If we can get fresh minds and bodies on it, that is.”
“Let us at least check it out, then,” Chelsea said. “We’ve been through a few things, but we’ve had time to rest and recover. We’re as fresh as you’re gonna get.”
“And you have personal experience with these kinds of dangers,” Jacob Crowley said. “All right. Greyson, Reiner, Rook, Gwen, I’m putting you in charge of the well of Darkness. But don’t tackle it alone. I’d like to get Frost with you, but Healers are more valuable than water at the moment, and in precious short supply. But being in charge doesn’t mean going alone. Report to Deirdre, as well as to Desmé and Octavian. And get Hestia’s team with yours. I’ll see if any of our other elites can be spared.”
“Elites?” Caleb asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Blaise’s former associates,” Jacob Crowley said, his voice carefully impassive. “As well as the former members of the Radiance. They’re all far older and far more powerful than the rest of us, and have each of them individually been worth the efforts of a few dozen Hunters. Sieglinde needs to remain aboveground, to maintain her particular addition to our city.” He cast his eyes up towards Yggdrasil as he said that. “But Stride or Bronn will be invaluable, if they’re up for it. Anastasia would be ideal, but she’s fairly indisposed at the moment.”
“You’re just going to give us all of your best?” Caleb asked.
“If a flood of Darkness suddenly erupts and swallows up the city, our efforts up here will be for nothing,” Jacob Crowley said coolly. He nodded curtly. “Report to your mother, Greyson. She’ll also get you up to speed on everything else that’s going on here.” For a moment, Jacob Crowley’s face softened as he gazed across the Plaza, towards the rest of the city. “This city is the entire world to everyone who lives here. Alone, we mages would have already failed. The people we’ve protected all our lives are paying us back one hundred fold. Don’t lose sight of that.”
“Yes, sir!” Caleb said, along with Chelsea, Gwen, and Will. The four of them, along with Addie, hurried across the plaza to the large red canopy where Hestia’s group had gone. In the center there was Deirdre, her perfectly straight hair, normally worn down and loose, done up in a messy, simple bun. Other than that, she was alert and professional, working alongside several members of the Council of Mages and their aides to organize reports, analyze patterns and statistics from combat and the aftermath each day, and work with Jacob Crowley to issue operational commands and missions. She had just started addressing Hestia’s group when Caleb and the rest arrived, and she immediately broke through the crowd and pulled her son into a tight embrace. But not just him — she grabbed Chelsea and Addie as well.
“It’s so good to see you safe,” she said, with a soft voice that overflowed with emotion. “Though…” She pulled back, fixing them with a serious stare. “I wish you didn’t have to come back to all of this.”
“No, this is…” Caleb said, looking around with an awed smile, “amazing. Everyone’s hurting and things are bad, but the entire city’s come together. It’s incredible.” He turned back to his mother. “When this is all over, Grimoire will be better than ever.”
That brought a smile to Deirdre’s lips. “Let’s make sure we pull through this, then,” she said. “Hestia was just explaining a few things to me, but feel free to jump in as well.”
It was a joint effort, with members of Caleb’s team and Hestia’s team explaining all they’d learned, as well as what they hoped to do next.
“Yes, I think Lorelei should help with healing,” Deirdre said with a nod. “Especially if she immediately went to that without being asked. I’ll try and see to it that she doesn’t completely exhaust herself, though. She’s not just a capable Healer — she’s one of our very best fighters. But Jacob’s right about sending you down with as many of the elites as we can spare. If that well’s getting ready to burst when Sal comes, that needs to be priority number one. If we can’t hold that back, everything else falls apart.”
“The important thing is that we hold out long enough,” Caleb said. Deirdre gave him a slightly questioning look, but understanding dawned in her eyes before Caleb could continue.
“I see,” she said. “Delilah. The Key of the World… right.” She sighed, then, looking back at her operation leaders. “It’s hard to swallow that all of this — all of us — might not be enough to win. But we just need to revise our perspective. Victory doesn’t have to come through strength of arms. And if we hold out long enough, that is a victory through strength of arms, in a way.”
“It’s like when we defended Shana and the Dream Forge,” Chelsea said, pulling Gwen close, smiling. “What we do here is just as important as what Delilah, Shana, and Fae are doing out there.”
Caleb looked around hopefully, but before he could get the question out, Deirdre spoke up. “Your father’s working with other senior Hunters to reconfigure their teams for the next Hollow Hour. He’s doing just fine, but you may not get a chance to see him. He’s really pouring himself into this.”
Caleb couldn’t entirely hide his disappointment, but knowing that his father was where he could be the most helpful made his heart swell with pride. “Everyone’s giving their all,” he said. “We’ll make sure to live up to everyone else’s efforts.”
“You have no idea how much it helps having all of you here,” Deirdre said. “Everyone — and I do mean everyone — is exhausted. Sieglinde just got Yggdrasil up this morning, and that’s made a big difference in everyone’s mental and emotional states. And she says it’ll make a huge difference with the Hollows. With luck, she’ll buy us the breathing room to get our Healers and Hunters more fully rested, get back to rotations instead of having everyone out there every night. But having fresh minds and fresh bodies, unexhausted from the kinds of combat we’ve been seeing here, is a huge boon.”
“But you’re sending all of us underground,” Caleb said, frowning slightly. “Doesn’t that kind of negate our effect on what’s going on up here?”
Deirdre adjusted her silver-framed glasses, which, for a moment, glinted with a reflection of the gentle fall of golden light from Yggdrasil. “Not at all,” she said. “Your arrival bolsters everyone’s spirits — I can’t tell you how much your fellow Hunters have missed you. And with your information, and putting you on point underground, that frees up some of our Investigators and investigation-focused Hunters down there, who have been able to rest more than the active combatants. We can reshuffle, and depending on how your investigations of the well go, and how long we have before Sal arrives, there may be room for some of you to assist up here. Believe me, your arrival is a big difference-maker.”
“I believe I might also be of some use up here,” Gwen said. “I noticed a lot of clothes in need of mending, and you even have some Hunters outfitted with armor that’s taken some damage. I can help with that, and it won’t exhaust me the same way it might a Human mage using Manipulation Magic. Restoring clothing and armor to near-newness will make a big difference in combat capabilities.”
“How long do you think you’ll need?” Deirdre asked. “And are you sure you can do it alone without exhausting yourself?”
“I should be able to manage it all before tonight’s Hollow Hour, if you can direct those in need of having clothing or armor mended to a central location where I can be stationed. And I’m confident I’ll still be fighting fit afterwards.”
Deirdre stared at Gwen, her face betraying nothing, but the fact that she didn’t say a word for several seconds spoke to her surprise. Chelsea grinned, leaning her head against Gwen’s. “She’s seriously that awesome,” Chelsea said. “You can trust her word. And hey!” She looked skyward, though all she could really look at was the red canopy above. “My owl’s up checking things out, but he’s got crazy range. I could leave him up here to assist with Hollow Hour while I head underground. Those tunnels are a bit cramped for him, anyway. I could probably loan him to you, temporarily.”
“Loan him?” Deirdre asked, and several of the other command staff under the canopy who were Summoners looked over, perplexed looks on their faces.
“Yeah, I don’t know exactly why I can do it,” Chelsea said with a shrug. “But I was able to loan him to Gwen once. If it works, you’ll be able to command him directly — as much as he’s willing to follow commands, that is. He’s a bit of a free spirit.” She rolled her eyes as her owl swooped down under the canopy, hooting with a distinct tone of offense. “You know it’s true, don’t get mad about it.” As her owl landed on her outstretched arm, she tickled him under the chin with her free hand. “What do you say? Willing to help out up here while I go into the deep, cramped darkness?”
Her owl cocked his head this way, then that, then rotated it one hundred and eighty degrees, and back again, contemplating. After a moment, he gave a firm hoot of assent. Chelsea grinned. “Thanks.” She stretched her arm towards Deirdre, and her owl glided over to land on Deirdre’s shoulders, behind her head, snuggling up to the back of her head.
“Oh, is that… what he likes?” Deirdre asked, looking up in mild surprise. And then her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. That’s fascinating. I can feel his thoughts, in a way. Not with words, but —”
“Right,” Chelsea said, grinning. “I’m glad it worked. He’s all yours until I come back, then.” She pointed meaningfully at her owl. “Behave yourself, mister.” He hooted twice, a pair of wry tones as he averted his gaze from Chelsea, ruffling his feathers proudly.
Caleb marveled at the scene. Because he realized what no one was putting words to, and what he didn’t voice, either. But this was a huge moment for both Chelsea and Deirdre, a moment that was caught in the smile on his mother’s face, in the laughter she and Chelsea shared.
Loaning her owl to Gwen made sense, given the deep bond they’d developed within the shadowland. The fact that she could loan him to Deirdre now meant so much.
“What about me?” Addie asked, raising her hand. “I’ve gotta help somehow! I can’t fight, but I can… do stuff. Whatever you need. Oh!” She suddenly darted over to a cart, grabbing a metal clipboard. She held it up to Deirdre. “What’s something that would be really helpful now? Something material, something this size or smaller?”
“Really helpful?” Deirdre asked. She thought for a moment. “We could certainly use more bandages. Do we have a point of reference for her?” She looked over to her command staff, and someone found a packet of bandages, which she then showed to Addie. “Could you do something like this?”
Addie’s eyes lit up, and she nodded. “Just watch!” The clipboard gleamed with light, and then transformed into three packets of bandages nearly identical to the one Deirdre held. Addie giggled. “There was enough size to make three. I can make more, too, if I go to my house. I can make just about anything you need. If you’re low on medicine, or gas, or, I dunno, whatever! I know magic can do a lot of stuff, but you still need things, right?”
“You are a marvel,” Deirdre said, kneeling down to Addie’s height and hugging her tight. “Yes. Go to your house, and I’ll set up a line of communication so you know what we need. Thank you, Addie. Thank you so much.”
They all had their assignments. They’d only just arrived, but they were each diving right to work, finding where they belonged, where they could do the most good — and often, what they alone could do. Caleb took a moment, standing out beneath the golden tree, the “world tree” of Grimoire.
Light. Light filled Grimoire, bathed Grimoire. Up above that tree, the sky was darkened, but not for the people of Grimoire. He saw light all around, in every single person. Everyone everywhere was giving their all for the city they loved, for the people they loved.
Love was the powerful force that bound each and every one of them to each other.
——
Deep within the Cove, in the deepest, most secure cell, Anastasia sat across from Blaise, a set of seemingly ordinary metal bars between them.
It all looked so simple — the smooth, featureless stone, the bars, the simple furnishings of the cell. But it was all a façade. Within this cell, there was no way one could use magic, even if they had their Talisman, which Blaise did not.
They’d been talking for quite some time. Anastasia had told Blaise once more — for the fifty-first time, she’d been counting — the exact account of her encounter with Sal at the Seat of the Seven. The way he’d completely paralyzed all those who would fight against him, even Paladins, even those as formidable as Anastasia, Bronn, Stride, and Sieglinde. She’d told him every tiny detail, no matter how small, and had answered his numerous questions with customary exactness.
Hollow Hour was in full swing by now, but Anastasia had come here long before it, as soon as she’d heard the reports going around since Caleb and his team had returned. That report had caused Blaise to ask Anastasia about the Seat of the Seven for the fifty-first time.
“Leave Sal to me,” Blaise said. He spoke softly, but he surprised Anastasia. He’d been silent for some time after the long conversation.
“But Blaise… you’re here,” Anastasia said. “And I can’t get you out. Even if I was willing, I don’t know how to open this cell.”
“Leave that to me, as well,” Blaise said. His eyes were serious, his mouth set in a grim line. “Ana… don’t fight Sal. Not if you can help it.”
“I don’t understand,” Anastasia said, shaking her head. “Blaise, you’re trapped. I could go to Jacob Crowley on your behalf, but…” And she faltered, and bowed her head.
“I know.” Blaise’s voice was calm, soft. “You don’t trust me. Not anymore. And I don’t blame you. I… Ana, I hope you know that I do still love my city. Deeply, completely. But I see now, I understand, that I lost my way. In truth, I don’t trust myself, either. That’s why I haven’t left this cell. Not yet.”
Anastasia’s eyes snapped up. “Are you saying you can get out of here on your own? How?”
Blaise smiled slightly. “It’s better that you don’t know. I will only do it once. And only to deal with Sal. Then I will return to my confinement, and live out the rest of my days here. I will not risk the city I love to my own arrogance. Never again.”
Anastasia was reeling, stunned to silence. What Blaise was implying he could do… it was absurd. Without access to magic, he was just a man, like any other man. Not like any other, not really, he was far more brilliant and cunning, but…
Was that enough? Could he really break himself out whenever he pleased?
“All I ask of you is one thing,” Blaise said. “When Sal arrives, if I’m not there yet… stall him. Do whatever you can to buy me time, and to save lives. Fighting him is folly, Ana, at least as he is now.”
“As he is now?” Anastasia asked.
Blaise spoke in a soft, deadly serious whisper. “I will unmake him. Trust me to do this one thing, Ana. I’m the one who started Sal down his path. He bought into my ideals, and those led him towards Darkness. He is my responsibility. And it took time, and hearing the same story over and over, but I’m certain now that I’ve done it.” His next words landed with astonishing weight that left Anastasia reeling. “I understand his power.”
“You…” Anastasia started, gathering her thoughts. “Is this truly only something you can do?”
“Oh, yes,” Blaise said. Slowly, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing a pair of tattoos running up each arm. On the left, the tail of a black dragon, and on the right, the tail of a white dragon. Both, Anastasia knew, continued to his torso, wrapping around to the heads of the twin dragons that Blaise had tamed — at terrible personal cost. “Only I can do this.”
“But without your Talisman, in this cell, you can’t call upon the dragons,” Anastasia said, hoping that Blaise would reveal the truth, that he actually could, but —
“You’re exactly right,” Blaise said. “But I will still do exactly as I said. Trust me, Ana, just this once, for just this one thing. If I do not return here after dealing with Sal… I trust you and the others to do what is necessary.”
A chill ran down Anastasia’s spine. “You can’t mean —” she started, aghast.
“Yes,” Blaise said with a curt nod. “Ana… I love my city. And I failed her in my arrogance.” He chuckled softly. “The Grimoire Guard… that is what they called the coalition that put an end to me and my Shadows, the coalition that now continues to defend Grimoire. It’s… ironic. And beautiful. That name was lost to history, yet Jacob Crowley invented it anew all the same.” Anastasia nodded, a small smile creasing her lips. She and Blaise — and Sal — had together invented the Grimoire Guard, had been the Grimoire Guard hundreds of years ago, before they ever became Shadows.
“I… I would like to believe that,” Blaise continued, “once, you and I and the others were Grimoire’s greatest defenders. We defended her against foes the likes of which those above have never imagined — until now. This… if I am to do one last act in my life, let it be even a shadow of what I once was. Let me protect my beloved city, one last time.”
And Anastasia, for all her questions, found she could not refuse him. She had no idea how he was going to do it, but…
If anyone can do it, it’s him.
Sometime later she left his cell. Back in the winter air of Grimoire, she took in the golden glow of Yggdrasil that bathed the city, that reflected so beautifully on the snow. Winter was the perfect time for Sieglinde to finally bond Yggdrasil fully to Grimoire.
Bonding. Yes. We are all bound to Grimoire.
I, too, love my city.
She paused, for a moment, up on the ridge overlooking Grimson Bay. She cast her eyes eastward, toward the great mount Erebos, nothing but a massive shadow in the night.
For some reason, she felt a strange chill as she gazed upon that mountain.
A pair of Howlers leapt from the shadows of trees, snarling as they lunged with claws and fangs. Hollow Hour wasn’t over yet.
Anastasia turned almost casually into a spinning heel kick, obliterating both Howlers in a single attack. Yggdrasil was keeping the city far quieter than it had been in days, but the world tree alone couldn’t stop all of the Hollows.
She cast another look up at the shadowy mountain. And then she continued onward, into the city.
Come and try us, Sal. Come back to the city you once loved and defended beside us.
Perhaps coming back will remind you of who you used to be. Perhaps… Blaise won’t need to unmake you.
But if you persist, persist knowing that your love of surprising stories will be rewarded. Count on Blaise to give you the twist you could never see coming.