The unicorn stepped back, its work complete. The silvery creature regarded them both with ancient eyes that contained wisdom beyond human comprehension, then turned and moved toward the tree line. It paused once, looking back, and Ben felt a promise pulse through the electromagnetic signature he shared with Sidney.
The unicorn would return. When they needed healing again, when their burns became too painful, when they required help adjusting to their transformed abilities — the creature would be there. They were under its protection now, marked by the same dimensional energy it served.
Then it disappeared into the forest, leaving them guarded by Rebecca Morse’s authority and the confusion of DAPI agents who no longer knew whom to follow.
“Eric Hargrove’s testimony will shut down the Phoenix Project permanently,” she said, moving closer. “And I’ve got enough evidence to bring charges against Sonya Rosenthal for illegal experimentation, unauthorized dimensional manipulation, violation of your Fourth Amendment rights, and about fifteen other federal crimes.”
“But she escaped,” Sidney said, frustration clear in her voice.
“For now.” Rebecca didn’t sound overly troubled. “But she can’t hide forever. DAPI’s going to be torn apart by this investigation, and she’ll be the primary target.” She looked over at the few agents who remained as they slowly backed away from the clearing. “Can you two move? We should get you somewhere safe.”
Ben tried to stand again. This time, with Sidney’s help — and despite the pain that shot through him — he managed it. The dimensional burns pulled with every movement, but the unicorn’s healing had at least made mobility possible.
His chest felt like it was on fire, but he was standing.
Alive.
“I’ll take you back to the safe house,” Rebecca continued. “It has medical supplies, secure communication, and a defensible position. It’s the best place to regroup. I’ll drive you both there and stand guard while you recover.”
“And the phoenix?” Ben asked, even though he could feel through his connection with Sidney that the creature had made it through the portal safely.
She smiled. “It went home. The portal network is healing now that clean fire is flowing properly again. The damage from Rosenthal’s artificial gate is reversing.”
“And your family?” Ben asked Sidney.
She was quiet for a moment, her consciousness reaching across the portal toward wherever her mother and grandmother were trapped. “They’re still there. Still alive. The portal’s stable enough now that we can plan a retrieval. But not today. Not while we’re this damaged.”
Ben nodded and leaned heavily on Sidney as they moved toward the spot where Rebecca Morse had concealed her SUV. Every step sent spikes of pain through his chest where the burns were worst, but at least he was mobile, and so was Sidney.
They’d won.
Chapter Sixteen
Five days after the phoenix’s rebirth and Ben’s near-death, I opened my eyes to the familiar sight of sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. A little farther away, I could sense the steady, reassuring presence of the unicorn in my backyard.
The creature had taken up residence the day Rebecca Morse brought Ben and me home, stationing itself where it could see both the house and the forest edge. Every morning at dawn it appeared, and it stayed until dusk, its horn glowing faintly as it channeled healing energy toward the house — toward the two of us. How it had managed to avoid notice that whole time, I wasn’t sure, but I’d already learned that the unicorn had magic of its own, magic that seemed somehow different from what other creatures who came through the portal possessed.
I lay still for a moment and took inventory, just as I had on the previous days of my recovery. The dimensional burns on my forearms still hurt, but the pain had lessened from excruciating to a constant dull ache, something I could ignore if I tried hard enough. The marks traced delicate patterns along my skin that looked almost like flames frozen in place, and they glowed faintly in the dim light, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.
As far as I knew, those marks were permanent. The unicorn’s healing had stabilized them and kept them from spreading further, but it couldn’t erase them completely.
Next to me, Ben stirred. His own scars caught the morning light — the worst of them across his chest and down his forearms where Rosenthal’s weapon had hit him hardest. The dimensional energy had left circuit-like patterns on his skin, faint but visible if you knew where to look. They were beautiful in a way. Terrible, but beautiful.
His eyes opened, and our electromagnetic connection strengthened almost immediately. That was new — or rather, amplified far beyond what it had once been. We had always resonated, but now our fields synchronized automatically whenever we were close.
“Morning,” he said, his voice husky from sleep. “How do you feel?”
“Like I merged with a dying phoenix and got permanently marked by dimensional fire.” I shifted carefully and tested my range of motion. Definitely better than yesterday. The unicorn’s healing seemed to be working. “You?”
“About the same.” He smiled, hazel eyes warming in the light that slipped past the curtains. “Could be worse.”
I laughed despite myself, and the sound felt good. Normal.
I so desperately wanted to be normal.
Through our connection, I sensed Ben’s electromagnetic field pulsing with relief. He’d been terrified I wouldn’t be able to laugh anymore, that the merge would have burned away the parts of me that chuckled at the silliness of life and deflected stress with dark humor.
“I’m still me,” I told him. “Changed, but still me.”
