“There aren’t enough. So with these, we look but don’t pick,” Veda explains. “We need to let them grow and spread. That way, there will be more when you come back. It’s important to respect that there is a balance. Everything in nature is made of magic and connected to the Cosmos. If we don’t respect it, the Cosmos will bite back.”
As if on cue, a clap of thunder comes out of nowhere. A high-pitched squeak escapes Antaris as a spark slips from his fingers. The small ball of fire lands like melted glass in the leaf bed beneath their feet, spreading quickly. Hiram wastes no time pulling Antaris away and extinguishing the flames with a spell. The boy is shaken and devastated, but Hiram is quick to steady him by seating him on a nearby rock and tightening his boots.
“It was an accident,” Hiram says calmly. “Accidents happen. They help you learn.”
“He’s right,” Veda chimes in.
The birth of an idea makes Hiram look around. “Do you think we can find Nénuphar?”
Veda considers it. “Do you think he’ll be able to see it?”
Antaris looks between them, blinking in confusion.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
They leave the path and go where the old forest steers them. It never matters the direction; magic is the reason the cave has always found them exactly when it’s meant to be found. This is what Veda tells a fascinated Antaris. The trees thin and sunlight peeks through the canopy.
Veda’s eyes brighten as she points to something ahead. “There it is.”
When the cave’s magic doesn’t warp his son’s world, a safeguard for those who do not need its power, Hiram knows he made the right choice in bringing him here. Antaris is the first to reach the cave’s mouth, his trepidation clear. Together, they lead him to the water’s edge, his eyes sweeping the amethyst walls and limestone ceiling, searching for the cave’s pulse. Signs of overwhelm start to show.
“Do you remember what to do when you feel overwhelmed?” Hiram asks gently.
Antaris nods, closing his eyes and taking one deep breath after another.
“It’s okay,” Hiram reassures him. “I used to come here as a kid. I didn’t know then, but each time I swam in the water, I felt a little better. The magic here only shows itself to those who need it.”
Antaris points to himself.
Veda kneels next to him. “Even adults need healing. Do you want to try?”
He nods slowly.
“What you see will be a memory,” she explains.
They only bother kicking off their shoes and socks. Veda waits at the water’s edge while Antaris takes a tentative step. Realizing the water is warm, he seems to relax, growing more confident as he goes all the way in. He floats on his back, staring up at the shimmering rocks that drop from the ceiling. Hiram sees the moment Antaris slips into a memory. Hiram follows, and slips into one himself.
“Grace is gone. She’s gone ...” John’s voice breaks. “You deserve to know.”
“Know what?”
“Your son.”
The world narrows to a single moment, then broadens so widely it feels indeterminate and terrifying. But his decision is made in an instant. “Send me your address. I’ll be there in the morning.”
Hiram inhales his way out of the memory. Seconds later, Antaris does the same. His eyes glisten. When Hiram gathers him into an embrace, Antaris signs a single word, repeatedly.
Mother.
“Did you see her in your memory?”
Antaris nods, smiling even as tears stream down his cheeks. No sadness, only peace.
The drying spell leaves Antaris’s hair in soft curls, Hiram’s standing at odd angles, and Veda’s as wild and voluminous as ever. Antaris bursts into giggles every time she tries in vain to pat it down. They emerge from the cave as the first streaks of sunset stretch across the sky. A pasture of blooming flowers greets them beyond the entrance, and Antaris rushes ahead, eager to explore. They keep watch as he wanders.
“Most of them are weeds,” Veda says when Antaris plucks one. “But some weeds are useful. Like the dandelion in your hand.” Hiram notices her body moving with more ease now, her energy lighter, back to her usual cautious calm.
“How was your swim?” he asks.
