“I know.” He reached for my hand, careful of my marked forearms, and our fingers laced together. “I can feel you. Maybe a little different from before, but the core still feels like you.”
“Different” was an understatement. My electromagnetic sensitivity had expanded exponentially after I merged with the phoenix. Where before I’d been able to sense electronic devices within a two-mile radius, now I could feel the entire portal network. Supernatural sites across the globe registered as distant pulses in my awareness, thin places where dimensional energy pooled.
The phoenix fire had left its mark on more than just my skin.
“The unicorn’s waiting,” I said. “Time for our daily healing session.”
Ben nodded. “We should probably get that over with before breakfast.”
Carefully, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Ever since our return to the house, we’d shared this bed, although we’d slept as chastely side by side as brother and sister. We hadn’t taken that step in our relationship before the phoenix crisis interfered, and I knew we wanted each other — but we were both uncertain about what intimacy might mean for people as changed as we were.
“Rebecca’s coming by this afternoon with updates on the DAPI situation,” he added.
Right. I’d forgotten about the text she’d sent late the day before, wanting to check on us and provide a status report. The outside world still existed, with all its complications and consequences. We couldn’t hide in my house forever, no matter how tempting the prospect might be.
I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt. Silver Hollow’s climate was cool enough that long sleeves wouldn’t look strange year-round, which was a small mercy. The marks were beautiful in their own way, but I wasn’t ready for the curious questions from friends and neighbors and customers that I knew they would invite.
Ben did the same, although the scars on his forearms were visible if anyone looked closely enough. We would have to come up with some explanation for their presence eventually. The marks didn’t exactly look like burns from a fire, but I couldn’t think of anything else to explain them away.
We made our way downstairs and out to the backyard, where the unicorn stood under the shelter of the huge oak that guarded the eastern perimeter, the side closest to the forest. The creature turned to regard us with those ancient eyes, and I felt its approval at the way we were healing.
The unicorn approached and pressed its horn first to my forehead, then to Ben’s. Clean energy flooded through me, targeting the dimensional burns and encouraging my tissue to adapt rather than simply endure. The pain receded further, and my electromagnetic field stabilized as well.
This was the fifth treatment, and each one had helped more than the last. I didn’t think the unicorn could reverse all the changes we’d suffered, but it could still help our bodies adapt to channeling dimensional energy.
When the healing session ended, the unicorn stepped back and moved to its usual position at the forest edge. His was a constant, protective presence that showed no signs of leaving.
Silver Hollow’s eternal guardian. The unicorn had been here long before the women of my family started protecting this town, and I had a feeling that it would be here long after we were gone.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, and felt the creature’s acknowledgment as a ripple of warmth, friendly and soothing.
Back inside, I made coffee while Ben checked his monitoring equipment, which he’d moved over from the cottage he’d been renting. Ever since we got home, he’d been keeping an obsessive eye on the portal’s stability and documenting how the network had responded to the phoenix’s clean rebirth. The data was remarkable — every supernatural site on the planet had stabilized within hours of the corruption being burned away.
“The portal’s holding steady,” he told me. “Energy flow is normal. I don’t see any signs of the instability caused by Rosenthal’s meddling, so your mother and grandmother should be safe on the other side.”
“For now.” I poured coffee for both of us, the familiar ritual helping to return me to the things I knew, the life I’d once lived. “But we still need to get them back.”
“One step at a time. When you’re strong enough to attempt dimensional travel, we’ll figure out how to retrieve them.” He took the mug I offered and blew gently on the hot liquid inside. “Rebecca might have some resources we can use. DAPI’s being disbanded, but that doesn’t mean all their research is useless.”
The mention of DAPI made my jaw tighten. Sonya Rosenthal was still out there somewhere. She’d disappeared effectively, fleeing just as the phoenix completed its rebirth, and I hated that she’d gotten away so easily.
She needed to pay for all the suffering she’d caused.
“I want her caught,” I said flatly.
“So does Rebecca. And so does Eric Hargrove, who’s providing the key testimony for the investigation.” Ben closed his laptop and set it aside. “But that’s not your responsibility. You’ve done enough, Sidney. More than enough.”
Had I? It didn’t feel like enough. Rosenthal was free. DAPI might have been disbanded, but its personnel had apparently already moved on to other positions and didn’t seem to have suffered any real repercussions from being involved in such a sketchy project. The artificial portal technology existed in some form, even if the actual equipment had been destroyed. It would be expensive, but technically, it could be rebuilt.
But Ben was right that I had done what I could. The phoenix was clean, the portal network was stable, and my family was alive. Everything else would have to wait until I was stronger.
We spent the morning in comfortable silence, Ben reviewing data while I tested my expanded abilities. I could sense electronic devices all across Silver Hollow now. The pet shop’s security system registered clearly even from my house, as did the electronics in the stores and offices on either side. I could feel the traffic lights downtown as they moved through their cycles, the cell tower on the outskirts of town, and even the satellite connections streaming through the area.
It fascinated me, even as it overwhelmed me. I had to believe that in time I’d be able to control this better, that I’d find a way to shut it out when I didn’t want it intruding on my life. The phoenix fire had expanded my abilities to encompass things I’d never been able to sense before — dimensional energy, portal fluctuations, the subtle variations in bioelectric fields that distinguished one person from another.
Was a human being even supposed to possess these beautiful but terrible gifts?
I sensed Rebecca Morse approaching from more than a mile away, her electromagnetic signature distinct enough that I recognized her before she’d even entered the town limits.
