Meri Greenleaf

Belatedly she grabbed at the fading shadow only to have it slip out of her grasp. This wasn’t her forte. Her grandmother had only taught her how to banish spirits, not keep them around. She hadn’t previously wanted to keep any around.

Dray rose with every intention to shove past Etri and go out in the rain, regardless of their hatred of getting wet… until they caught the crinkles in the corner of Etri's eyes.

This would be a much better game than one involving a hippo.

It could simply be a bottle of cold coffee or tea, although the label wasn't a brand the three of them drank. It could, but it probably wasn’t. Ametrine had lived with Gilly long enough to assume something more sinister than a breakfast drink filled that bottle.

The door to the adjoining room pushed open a crack. A head of shaggy purple hair appeared and hesitated in the doorway. When the boy shuffled into the room, it became clear that under the mop was a face streaked with tears.

As she breathed in the chilly air of late winter and the aroma of her spiced drink, she found herself frowning. This tranquility felt unnatural.

Blythe let out a little snort of a laugh. "Okay, unexpected I can believe. You can't possibly be saying that Adair is dangerous, though. He's about as dangerous as a kitten in a basket of yarn."

"Sol, you know you're my best friend and that means I love you and want to help with whatever this thing is-- Creators help me, why does it have arms?-- but there's no way in the name of any of the nine Muses that I'm doing this ever again."

He would never stop regretting that a year ago his weaving had picked the worst possible time to return. It had forced him away from his pair right before they would have become his pair and left them without his protection.

Blythe was about to chew him out for disappearing earlier when his words stopped her cold, half out of fear and half out of recognition. She'd heard this before.

Blythe stared up the ceiling, silently begging the Creators to grant her patience. Sol was the only person on the planet who could get into an argument with a cat.

First, he and Etri needed to implement Plan Keep Blythe Distracted. Adair had wanted to call it Operation Adair Distracts Blythe With Kisses Until She’s So Distracted She Doesn’t Hear a Thing Plan, but the others had shot it down for being too wordy with an acronym of nonsense letters. (And in the words of Dray, “Ew.”)

The afternoon sun beat down on a meadow-- a meadow inside a building, her mind insisted. A meadow of daylilies, her heart overruled. She lowered herself to the ground and reached out to touch the nearest one. It was red, just like the ones her father had cultivated. Just like the ones he always used to tuck behind her ear to make her smile. It had been so long...

The boy was just a boy. Stories of ghosts were just stories, even if he moved with uncanny silence and was so pale he was nearly luminous in the glow of the campfire.

On her shoulder rested a small shadow, a wisp of almost-smoke, no larger than her cat. Young. Hard to see, which meant it was likely no more powerful than she was.

As soon as Dray saw movement, they fired. When the ammunition splashed back into their face, Dray shut their eyes. They'd forgotten that Sol hadn't fixed that malfunction. "Ha! I bet you thought I forgot. I mean, you thought I actually loved you and all was forgiv--"

"Interesting is what I strive for," she replied with a wink. "Now let’s see what’s that direction. I predict a bathroom, another art studio, and a room with nothing but a collection of decorative wooden spoons."

"Technicalities do not make me mythological. I am more worried why your people- whose only display of worship is to eat a lot and collect cats- have suddenly discovered the idea of an altar."

So this is what it had come to. His sentinels were the big, strong, brave ones. He was just the useless artist who had to be tucked away somewhere safe when there was a hint of danger.

She stared at it. It couldn't possibly be speaking, yet with each word the flap on the stovepipe lifted up and down. When the stove began to prance away on its stubby legs, she called out, "Hey, wait!