Chapter 10

A yaka doesn't waste time when we land. "Those are the Lances?"

"Yep."

"They use angelic weapons now too?"

"Apparently. We didn't overwhelm them that easily in the fjords, which makes me think something else is going on."

Nariel asks, "What were the symbols on the weapons? They aren't Bright Earth sigils."

I frown. "I didn't notice any. Can you draw them for me?"

"A moment." Nariel waves his hand, and shadows swirl in front of him, forming two symbols I recognize.

I suck in a breath. "What the fuck?"

"What do they mean?"

I point. "That one is registered to Evram's territory as grand magus. It means it belongs to the state, which isn't surprising. High Earth isn't worried anymore about the angels finding out they fucked up with me, so they can pull these out of the weapons vault."

"So they use them with the grand magus' permission?" Ayaka asks.

"No, because that one—" I point to the other symbol. "That's Destien's house symbol. It's like a library loan marker; it means that Destien is the one who approved the Lances using the weapons. Which means the Lances still answer to the state and that's where their loyalty lies, but they're operating under Destien's direction, which... I don't know what to make of."

Ayaka says, "Because of the spell in Miyajima?"

Nariel looks at me quizzically, and I explain, "While he was protecting Brook, he added a layer onto the anchor there to be notified if I change the balance of power between worlds again. I modified it further so we can essentially use it as a signal flare."

"Ah," Nariel says. "You thought he might be willing to be an ally."

"I mean, maybe, but more to the point, during that battle he saw me destroy the angelic weapon the grand magus was using. You might have fooled Koshiel into thinking that was your doing, but Destien would know better. So what's he doing arming Lances with them?"

"Perhaps he also noticed how much trouble you had destroying that weapon with only your wand," Nariel says.

Ugh. "If that's all, I can't wait to see what they bring next now that they know I have a weapon too. And Ayaka as well. "

"This one is for me?" Ayaka asks.

I blink. "Do you not like it? It looked like you had the hang of it really quick, and High Earth knows who you are."

"I expected you to choose Letty, since she's our organizational touchstone. High Earth also knows about her."

Ayaka's voice is carefully neutral, but she watches me closely. She doesn't want to give the weapon to someone else; she just wants to know my reasons.

"Besides me," I say slowly, "I think you're the one of us most able to stand up to High Earth. Even with less time there, you understand how they operate, and you won't hesitate to make difficult choices under pressure. The first weapon is yours."

Ayaka nods sharply. "Then show me how to power it with a different anchor. Given the history between Japan and China, I do not want to take their magical power for my use."

Shit, didn't even think of that. In my defense, I was busy trying not to die. "If it helps, keep in mind without your interference the Lances would have stolen the magic of this place entirely, forever. This way, it will recover. And we will help it do so faster by putting what's left in the weapon back before we go."

"Before that," Nariel says, "dawn is approaching."

It's totally dark out, though?

Ah, shit, we have to clean up fast before they get ready to open for tourists .

"Nariel, can you take that way?" I wave up at the stairs I do not want to climb again. "Ayaka and I will do this side."

He nods and vanishes. Ayaka looks at me with raised eyebrows. "He does your bidding now?"

"It's much worse than that," I mutter. "Can I borrow your wand again?"

"I believe I can do the necessary work with your direction," Ayaka demurs.

I blink. She has watched me do this a few times, I suppose. I've been so focused on teaching spells they can use when attacked that I hadn't realized she was paying attention.

I'm the one who's super into destructive power, though. Ayaka knows how to build.

Combat capabilities are maybe not the only important magic to teach them.

"Sure, but we need to move fast," I caution.

"I'm aware." She casts a first spell, one that picks up broken rocks at our feet. "Like so, yes?"

Right.

I talk her through the next step and then say, "So, hypothetically."

"Ah, there is another reason you wanted to talk to me without Nariel?"

"About that. How would you feel about a formal alliance between us and demon world?"

Ayaka shifts more of the wall back into place. "Hypothetically, if this is not already done, I would have questions about whether you are arranging this alliance with sufficient haste, given it has always been inevitable. I am prepared to offer suggestions to improve efficiency if necessary."

I stare at her. "Wow. That was a personal attack."

Ayaka smirks at me and finishes rebuilding this section of the wall.

W e don't quite make it before people start arriving at the Wall, but fortunately Nariel can use shadows to cloak us—and himself long enough to buy an actual shirt. Then he flies us both down into the trees so I can portal us all to Japan.

After she's on the ground, Ayaka eyes me speculatively, and I blush, not entirely sure what she's insinuating but also feeling unreasonable about Nariel carrying her, too.

Definitely time for more magic.

Ayaka's apartment in Tokyo is very modern and also bigger than most people can afford; space in Tokyo is at a premium. Fortunately, Ayaka is rich.

Even more fortunately, she was willing to let Brook stay in a room at her place.

"Hi!" She bounces up as soon as Nariel arrives and sticks out a hand to him. "We didn't get to meet properly last time. I'm Brook Walker, Sierra's sister. "

"Hello to you too, sister dearest, I'm doing great, thanks for asking."

She shoos me away like a fly, and I laugh.

Partly in relief—at finding her here, and fine, and better than. After Miyajima, Brook has very determinedly bounced back, but there's been a tightness in her shoulders every time I've seen her at our parents' house.

Here, it's very obviously gone.

Smoothly, like he shakes hands all the time, Nariel takes her hand, but then bows over it before meeting her eyes with a smirk. "My pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, Brook Walker. I am Nariel, Prince of Makora and your sister's suitor."

I choke.

Brook's eyes widen, and a smile stretches across her face as she looks at me. " Really ."

I'm still coughing.

Nariel also turns to look at me, the two of them now smiling together in combined mischief. "Really."

"Sisters and men were both a mistake," I mutter.

Brook's eyebrows lift. "Wow, that wasn't a no."

Nariel offers, "She cannot deny that I am attempting to woo her, only what she means to do about it."

I look at Ayaka. "May I have some water, please?"

Her eyes twinkle. "I believe this situation calls for tea. "

"I'll help you," I say quickly, which is probably rude for me to take over her kitchen but this situation definitely calls for a strategic retreat.

Behind me I hear Brook instructing Nariel to make himself comfortable in the living room.

"You're doing okay with her here?" I ask Ayaka softly.

When I started setting up to go to demon world, Brook came to stay with Ayaka for protection, since we didn't know what, if any, fallout there would be.

Ayaka smiles slightly. "Brook is determined not to be a bother so that I won't ask you to take her back. My apartment has never been so clean. I've had her take over coordinating reports from other wizards as well, so I can spend more time when I'm not at work focusing on magic. She is an excellent housemate and assistant."

Since learning magic exists, even if she can't use it, Brook has wanted to involve herself as much as possible. That was also my reaction to learning magic existed, but I don't want to project onto Brook. I suspect some of her motivation is feeling like it's something she can do against the people who kidnapped her and tried to make her powerless, so I'm not fighting her on it.

She's been helping set up an online school for wizards, transferring my notes and documenting things I say and turning it into a remote course—then collecting questions from wizards and sending those back to me, too. She's not quite as connected as Letty yet, but given how busy I've been putting out magical fires, at this point my sister probably understands what the wizards who want to use magic need better than I do.

I let out a breath. "I'm glad. Thank you again."

The sister in question shoulders me out of the way to help Ayaka get out teaware, and I stare at them a little nonplussed.

I guess Brook would know where things are now, since she's staying here, but wasn't Ayaka my friend? I feel oddly like I just got shouldered out of my relationships with both of them.

"Details, Sierra," Brook orders. "Talk to us about your demon lover."

Oh jeez. "So I take it you're in favor of me being in a romantic relationship with a prince of hell," I say dryly, knowing full well that despite being in another room Nariel can hear every word.

"Obviously. Imagine the fanfic of you two once wizards come out to the world. Though if it's about you I may not be able to bring myself to read any of it, which is a real letdown."

That spikes my anxiety. I'm still not sure how we're going to handle wizards coming out to the world. It seems like we'll have to eventually—like, not only are cameras everywhere now, but if we can heal people magically, what am I going to do, tell wizards they're not allowed to and have to silently watch people suffer instead? Obviously not. But I also don't want wizards locked in an underground lab somewhere, and governments with armies are going to be big mad about my combat and transportation abilities—and specifically, not having access to them.

But this is a problem for Future Sierra. Current Sierra has different problems, beginning with:

"There will not be fanfic of me and Nariel. We're real."

Brook rolls her eyes. "Oh come on. Shipping is not limited to fictional characters. And this is prime material. Back me up, Ayaka-san, how many manga are about demon romances?"

"There are many manga about demons with mortal girls," Ayaka obligingly confirms.

I blurt, "He's watched The Devil Is a Part-Timer."

That stops both of them, and they turn to blink at me.

Then Brook's eyes widen again. "Ohmygod, are you having a marriage of state? What the fuck world are we even in right now?"

I purse my lips as that makes me realize something. "We haven't talked about marriage in the Low Earth sense," I say slowly, "just a kind of metaphysical bonding."

"Oh, just that, huh," Brook deadpans.

Ayaka asks, "Has he promised any commitments?"

I hesitate, because again, Nariel can definitely hear us, and I am very carefully not looking back to see how he is taking this.

Yes, I could borrow Ayaka's wand to cast a soundproof barrier, but having secrets from him on this subject seems a little counterproductive. I'm sure he'd respect my privacy, but I also don't want him to think I don't trust him, or am not being honest with him.

Though hey, using my own wand for magic, what a good thing for me to work on since they're handling the tea. I can't believe I let this conversation distract me. I get my wand out and start charging.

Ayaka clears her throat gently.

Ah. Right. "We have both made some vague promises to each other about helping each other in the future, but nothing like a formal vow. I don't actually know if he wants this to be a long-term thing."

I also hadn't thought about whether I want it to be a long-term thing.

I'd just assumed, because that's the only way I want Nariel—if I can keep him.

And I'm not sure, given his history, whether he will want to be kept.

"Are metaphysical bonds breakable?" Brook asks.

I blink again. "That's a great question. I have no idea."

"If it's breakable, you will need a formal agreement between you two," Brook says. "Just saying."

I stare at her and nod slowly. She's right. It's not that I don't know my younger sister is better with people than me, but I forget sometimes what that means. She's also traveled enough with me to have a firm appreciation for intercultural miscommunications.

Ayaka murmurs quietly, "Negotiation is a matter of give and take, Sierra. He invited you to this bond, yes? If you want another kind of relationship with him as well—whether that is a marriage or a treaty—you will have to be the one to propose to him."

Ah, shit.

As quiet as she was—probably because she realized the issue—there's no way Nariel didn't hear that too.

"Don't think I don't notice how you phrased that."

She smirks and hands me a tray full of tea.

When I sit down on the couch next to Nariel, placing the tea on the table in front of us, he says, "You would be able to be free of me if you wished it. A bond is breakable, but it is not lightly done."

Brook drops down on the floor across from the table so she can face us. "So it is more like demon marriage then. What kind of side effects are there from bonding? Like, would Sierra be immortal too?"

"I don't need Nariel for his immortality," I tell her.

"No, but if you could —"

"Sierra means," Nariel interrupts gently, "that she is advanced enough with magic to become immortal on her own."

Brook's eyes widen, and she stares at me. "I really feel like this should have come up sooner. You're immortal ?"

I shrug. "Not at the moment. I wanted to get Low Earth's magic stable before setting that up. "

"But you can be immortal. You're planning to be." Brook looks at Ayaka as she enters the room and takes a set in a chair. "You, too?"

Ayaka says, "Perhaps. It depends how quickly I can learn. Sierra cannot do this for me. Or for you."

"So you may both stop aging any time now." Brook takes a bracing sip of tea.

My chest aches. I don't know what to say, so I drink, too. I can't make her stop aging either; it's not how the magic works. So if I decide to be immortal—and given that the political leaders of every other world are, I'd probably better, at least for a while—I may have to watch Brook age and die.

There are counselors for that in High Earth too. Too bad I can't talk to them.

I'm also watching Brook quickly realizing that this room full of people she felt so at home with only minutes ago, this world of magic she dove into feet first, is one where she will always be an outsider.

She looks at Nariel. "Hypothetically, could I bond with a spirit without magic?"

Nariel tilts his head. "I am uncertain. Is immortality so important to you, when you've only just learned it's possible?"

"Oh, no, it will just be weird if I look older than Sierra. Sorry, first idea that popped into my head. I'm a planner." She shrugs like it's not important.

And maybe it isn't—she and I do both enjoy talking about possibilities for the sake of them.

Nariel looks at me. "A planner? You don't say."

"Yes, we are related," I say dryly. "Brook, if you decide you want to be immortal, we have a few years to figure it out. You wouldn't want to do it until your body and brain finish growing anyway."

She frowns. "Wait. Is Destien immortal?"

"Yeah, though that's recent, he's not that much older than me. He apparently decided early thirties was his peak. In High Earth there's a whole branch of the health department to help you figure out the best time."

"Then why in the world does your old teacher look ancient?"

"Because he's really old," I explain. "For mages it's more like really really long lifespans than true immortality."

"Is that why he trained you?" Brook asked. "He's old enough to know that Low Earth can produce powerful wizards, but didn't think it was anything he couldn't handle?"

Wow.

Everyone is silent, waiting for me to react.

"Well, that's a shitty thought," I finally say. "You're probably right. And on that note, in his absent honor, let's do some magic here out of spite."

"Wait," Brook blurts, "one more thing."

Oh god. I tense.

First teaming up with Nariel, then bringing up wizards coming out, then broaching the immortality elephant in the room, and my shitty relationship with Evram... my sister is on a roll for bringing up things I absolutely do not want to think about .

I really want to whine and be like please, no, save a bombshell for later, but since I'm supposed to be an adult I take a bracing sip of tea myself and brace for impact. "Yes?"

Brook looks between me and Ayaka. "I know you're back from spirit world now. But I was wondering if I could stay?"

The immortality wasn't enough to scare her away?

God, if she's anything like me—and she is—it probably just made her more determined to figure out a workaround.

I wouldn't push Brook into this world, but since she's already known to High Earth it's not like she'll be safer if I hide things from her.

But I believe in empowering people, and all the leading is coming from her. Maybe she won't stay interested in magic politics bullshit, but she's clearly thriving away from home.

Like I did.

I look at Ayaka. "Would you like to talk privately for a moment?"

Ayaka shakes her head. "I said everything relevant."

In the kitchen, when she made a point of telling me my sister was an excellent housemate. Had Brook already asked her? Clever girl.

I smile and look back at Brook. "Then it's fine by me. Do we need to do any paperwork to get you a leave of absence from school? "

Brook nods, not looking less tense. "Yes. But since I'm not eighteen yet, a parent or guardian has to sign it."

Ah. I may be the guardian of all of Low Earth in the magical sense, but I am not actually her guardian in any legal sense. My sister has parents.

Technically they are also my parents. But for most of my life, Evram filled that role.

Given the radio silence from him now that I'm in deeper shit than ever before and he knows it and could help, I effectively don't have any parents now.

"Then we'll get their signature," I say. "There's no way around that. If I forged it magically, they'd just ask the school for proof and it would all come out. I'm not going to do to them what High Earth did."

Brook sags. "I know. I wouldn't ask you to, but they're never going to agree to this. They know something's up. They confiscated my passport, remember?"

I'd magically forged her a new one to bring her back to Japan. Since they couldn't take mine, that was their attempt to make sure I didn't take her away again without their approval (that was our cover story for when she'd been kidnapped).

"They keep calling, and I've stopped answering because all they do is demand I go back, because they want me to keep me under lock and key. I'm worried they're going to call the cops on you for kidnapping me, or on me for running away. I don't see a way to get out from under their noses without burning bridges, which I will do, because being back there for even a few weeks was..." Brook trails off and then looks me dead in the eye and says, "I can't breathe there. I'm not going back, one way or another. But I don't want to make this your problem, so I'm asking if you have a preference for how I handle this."

My heart is like acid burning in my chest.

I want to punch Evram so many times.

And also my biological parents.

I didn't want Brook to feel bound to them like I had to Evram. And maybe I should have fought them more overtly before instead of negotiating more freedom for her. But I knew they were trying to do what was best for her, like I always wanted someone to look out for me. What would I know about what a healthy childhood should look like, anyway?

It isn't this.

It isn't wanting to keep her. Brook having recently been actually locked away, I don't doubt she's not making that assessment lightly.

It isn't seeing how poorly she's sleeping in their home, the desperate look in her eye when I came to pick her up like she was ready to claw out of the walls, and demanding she return to it when here she looks alive again.

Where is the line between helping and smothering?

How dare any of them try to smother my brilliant, vivacious sister. How fucking dare they.

I stand up, pulling out my phone and sending a quick text. "I'll handle it. "

"Sierra—"

"Thank you for telling me, Brook. I will handle it. Ayaka, a couple of spell rocks, please?"

Wordlessly, she passes a basket to me from under the coffee table. Handy.

I imbue each one with a different spell. "This one will drain your weapon again, so the magic will go back where it came from. This one will anchor it to Miyajima—you know the symbols we're using there, you can sub them out if needed. Call me if you have questions."

My phone pings. Good, they're both home.

I take a deep breath. That's good .

"You're not coming back?" Brook asks, also standing.

Ayaka doesn't. She left her family behind to become who she is now in Tokyo, and I think she has some idea how this is going to go for me.

"I have more weapons to steal," I say gruffly. "And frankly, I think after this conversation I'm going to need to go blow something up. But I promise I'll handle it, Brook."

Frustrated, she says, "And I'm telling you, you don't have to."

Someone finally trying desperately to help me, in the one way I can't let her.

She may be willing to burn bridges, but she shouldn't have to. Not like I did.

One of us should get to keep her parents and her home .

"It's long past time," I tell her, my voice carefully controlled, "that we had a real honest conversation."

Brook stills. "Oh."

Yeah.

"Take care, okay?" And then to Nariel, who has been watching all of this as silently as Ayaka, "I'll meet you back at your place."

And then I teleport.

Straight into my parents' living room.

My parents both jerk out of their spots on the couch. They were waiting for me, no doubt expecting me to walk in the door.

As I was expecting Nariel to head back to Dark Earth, but I sense him following me, as darkened shadows coalesce in the corner of the room.

I glare at him, and he shakes his head, jerking his head toward the outside.

Oh, he has a cloak up around the house.

When I nod sharply, he fades into shadows—still there, but invisible.

He'll trust me to do this alone, but he's still going to watch my back.

There, that's the line.

It's trust.

Not that I trust him to have my back, though I do.

But that he trusts me to stand on my own, even when I don't .

My parents don't trust Brook.

And they definitely don't trust me.

I turn back toward my parents. Our silent communication was so rapid my father hasn't even moved since his startle, while my mother is half-levered to standing, shakily. "Sierra Walker, what in the world—"

" Magic is real ."

The words explode out of me.

My parents gape.

I take a breath.

"Magic is real," I say again, trying to keep my tone even, "and I spent my adolescence in another world, learning how to use it. Now magic is back in this world, because I brought it back, and I am a target."

My parents exchange glances.

Then my father says slowly, "I don't know what trick you used to appear like that—"

" Magic ."

He says patiently, "Magic isn't real, Sierra."

He doesn't mean that as a rejection of everything I am, and I know that, but the dismissal—the words I have been fighting against for years —hit me with the force of a blow.

I should do this kindly. I should sit them down and lead them into it gently. They have, arguably, been more wronged than anyone.

But I am not gentle, and it feels like my heart is going to claw itself out of my skin .

I point at a horrible chair they've wanted to get rid of for years but been unable to let go of.

I lift my wand hand, building a ball at its tip full of magic, visible and glowing like the sun.

My parents stare, wide-eyed.

Then I send the beam directly at the chair and explode it.

Not into shards of wood and cloth.

I vaporize that piece of shit.

My parents stare at where the chair just was, at the particles of light that shimmer in the air in the aftermath, fading slowly.

I have always been selfish, and as ever, I can't do this the easy way.

"Magic," I say again, " is real . Magic, as you see, can also be extremely fucking dangerous."

"Are you trying to scare us?" my mother asks sharply.

"I am trying to make you pay attention to what is actually in front of you and not what you want to see," I snap. "Magic is real, and Brook is caught up in this world, too."

"Then un-catch her up!" my father snaps back, rising now as well. "We are trying to keep our child safe, and you should want that too, if we hadn't raised you to be so selfish—"

"You didn't raise me."

The room falls completely silent.

You could cut the tension like a knife.

And it's only in that moment I realize all of what he said and wonder if this is where I learned that about myself .

I'd thought it started in High Earth. Maybe it did, but my father has on his own reached the same conclusion.

And maybe, if so many of us think so, we're all correct.

"David, that's enough," my mother tells him firmly.

But that's all—she doesn't actually argue with him.

It is, after all, the first time I've ever actually said those words out loud to them. It was an attack, and it's not a fair one. It's not the battle I'm here to fight about today, but it's all so tied up I can't keep it separate.

Spells are patterns, humans are pattern-manufacturing machines, and I am the best and worst example.

I try to focus on Brook, because she's the one they care about. "I am thinking of Brook. It is not safe for her to be here." I gesture at where the chair used to be. "You can't keep her safe from that. I can."

Coolly, my mother asks, "Are you not the reason Brook is caught up in this magic of yours?"

I nod slowly. "Yes. Yes, I am. But magic is also the reason Brook exists at all. I'm springing this on you, so you haven't had time to think through all the implications yet. But you didn't ever let me go to a boarding school. You didn't make that choice. A spell brainwashed you into believing you had, a spell that has been set up for centuries so those of us with magic could be trained just enough to not get ourselves killed with it and no one in this world had to know. Usually, that takes about a year, so parents never have to go through what you did."

My mother says, "But you were different."

Maybe I was different. Maybe I was just the most delusional.

I don't know how to respond to that. "No one else was gone as long as me. No other parents of wizards went through what you did. But that also means that you have spent years reacting from trauma to a decision you didn't actually make. You couldn't have kept me home, and you realized that when I came back. But you can't keep Brook, either. You have to let her go."

"Into what?" my mother asks. "What happened to her, really?"

I shake my head. "That's Brook's to share if she wants to. I won't share it for her."

"We have a right to know," my mother says tightly. "She is our child."

And I'm not. "She's also a person with agency who deserves the chance to make her own choices, and you are smothering her. She doesn't have bags under her eyes now that she's not here, did you know that? She can't stay here. I won't make her, and neither should you."

"So you think we should let magic steal both our children?" my mother asks.

Should have known my mother shutting my father down wasn't actually going to help me.

My father's temper is quick to kindle, but my mother will look for holes and poke them .

I am, in fact, related to them.

And I'm going about this all wrong.

"Come on," I say. "I want to show you something." When they don't move to follow I add, "Not magic. Just in Brook's room."

They exchange glances but follow me.

Past the guest room, which used to be my room before my parents gave up on me ever coming back and is now bland and empty.

To Brook's bedroom, which is full of life. Covered with anime posters and books and figurines and also, on a high shelf, toy dinosaurs.

It's the dinosaurs I point at. "Why are these in her room?"

My father frowns at me. "Everybody likes dinosaurs. You did, too."

"I know I liked dinosaurs. Those were, in fact, my toy dinosaurs. When I was four . Brook is seventeen ."

"You're talking like we force her to keep them there."

"There are many ways," I say, "to coerce without force. Do you think she doesn't know you'd be sad if she threw them away?"

At the mere mention of throwing them away, my dad jerks.

My mother, seeing it, winces.

Finally, I am getting through to them.

Somehow, it makes me feel even worse .

I put my wand away and, swallowing, step forward, taking one of each of their hands in my own.

It is so awkward. I hold them anyway, as if I can brute-force my way into making them see me.

"My childhood was stolen from you," I say. "It was stolen from me too. You did give Brook a childhood, the best anyone could have. But you have to let her be an adult now. You can't protect her from the world. All you can do is give her the tools to take care of herself."

"She's not an adult," my mother says.

"I promise you, she is," I tell her. "Just like I was when you allowed me to graduate early and move out. You can't protect either of us from the world anymore, and there was no more you could have done for me than you did. But even in the few years you had, you helped me become someone who could change more than one world, because I didn't stay gone by accident. You've had even more time with Brook, and she is smart and capable and incredibly resilient." I squeeze their hands. "I promise she will be fine. I promise ."

My mother tries to exchange another look with my father, but this time his eyes are all for me.

"Then what tools," he says gruffly, "can we give her now?"

I do not sag in relief.

I maybe clutch their hands harder, only for an instant, before letting go.

I smile sadly, and illuminate all the many, many spells I have now laid around Brook's room .

"Now," I tell him, "it's my turn."

"And who," my mother asks, "is helping you?"

My mother is also, obviously, related to Brook, in the propensity for bringing up difficult subjects.

But—

I consider for one second, then before I can consider it for a second and chicken out I say, "Nariel?"

He coalesces in a swirl of shadows beside me.

"This is Nariel," I say, feeling like a moron because I did just say his name. "We're working together, and he's helping me."

He glances sidelong at me.

Fuck it.

"Aaand we're maybe dating."

My parents actually look more obviously shocked by this statement than they did by the magic.

Which, you know, that's probably fair.

Nariel looks like the cat that got the cream with this addendum and inclines his head at my parents, his voice full of charm as he says, "Colleen and David Walker, I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

When did he learn my mother's name?

My mother looks at Nariel.

Looks at me.

Then says abruptly, "There is no way a man who looks like this is human."

I burst out laughing. I can't help it .

Nariel and my father both look slightly taken aback, though I think for different reasons.

Finally my father says to him dryly, "You'll have to get used to that sort of bluntness."

Nariel's lips quirk. "It is one of Sierra's many delightful qualities."

What is even happening? Somehow, even though this isn't my home and I didn't really grow up with Low Earth norms, I am still bringing a boyfriend home to meet my parents?

I guess I should be glad we're not arguing about Brook anymore and make my escape so they can process everything, but. Really?

"Well this is turning alarming very quickly," I say. My father snorts. "Nariel, we should get on with the next step of our plan."

"You have a plan to make Brook safe?" my father asks, then rolls his eyes and at this of all things relaxes. "What am I saying, of course you have a plan."

Nariel's eyes are dancing.

"Right, that's enough of you all getting to know each other then—"

"Sierra," my mom interrupts.

I already have my wand out, but I pause.

"Even when you were a toddler," she says, "you were all or nothing. If you couldn't do something the first try, you didn't bother anymore. If you decided to do something, nothing would stop you. You were so determined to be able to jump before your legs were ready that you toddled over to the edge of a hill and before I caught up and realized what you were up to, you threw yourself off of it, as if that would teach you how to do it."

I nod. Sounds like me, but where are we going with this?

"I don't know all the details of what you've gotten yourself into," my mother says. "I hope you and Brook will tell me more, and until then I will think about what you've said. But I want you to remember that very few things in this world are truly binary, all or nothing. And it does matter how you do things. Just because you crash into the earth doesn't mean you have to scorch it. Okay?"

I finger my wand as I think about that.

That is a different philosophy than what the grand magus drilled into me. I either won and got to stay, or I failed, and lost magic. There was no in-between.

And I can't deny that worked out for me. But maybe there's a better way.

I can't take my childhood back, but maybe it's not too late for my parents and I to still learn from each other.

"When I was jumped off that hill," I ask, "Did I try to attack the ground after I crashed into it?"

"No," my mother says dryly. "You found a taller hill."