Stephen was already at the boot, hauling out bags. Dev moved to help him. I stood there for a moment, just breathing the cold air, and tried to find something—anything—that felt real.
The magic.
That was the only thing. The only sensation I'd had in months that felt like something other than emptiness.
During training, they'd loaded us with power. Borrowed magic, siphoned from dozens of volunteer Council witches, compressed and stored in our bodies, dense as lead. All kinds of power. I could feel the heat of fire, and coolness of water, the spark of electricity all stored safe inside me. We weren't permitted to use it, except in an emergency, but we couldholdit. Carry it. That was the whole point. The carriers. Human vessels for the power that would fuel the temporal anchors.
Stephen had said it felt like being full of lightning. Dev said it was like pressure, like his skin was too tight.
I barely felt it.
I could sense it was there—a presence in my chest, dense and foreign, like I'd swallowed something that hadn't quite settled. But it didn't buzz or crackle or make me feel powerful. It just... existed.
Another thing wrong with me. Another place where I was supposed to feel something and didn't.
At first I'd questioned the technicians, watching their faces for concern as they checked my readings. "Stable," they'd say, nodding with clinical satisfaction. So I stopped asking. I carriedthe magic like I carried my grief—a heavy, silent thing I'd grown accustomed to hauling around until someone finally needed it.
"Ellie?" Dev was standing by the hotel entrance, my bag in his hand. "You coming?"
"Yeah," I said. "Sorry."
I crossed the snowy cobblestones and followed them inside.
The lobby was warm after the cold outside. Polished wood floors, soft lighting, furniture that looked expensive but not showy. A fire crackled in a stone fireplace. Somewhere, a piano played quietly—recorded, piped through hidden speakers. It felt elegant, but comfortable and I liked it.
"Reservation for the Council delegation," Stephen said to the receptionist, who barely glanced up as she typed on her computer.
"Third floor," she said in accented English. "Three rooms. You have a briefing in Conference Room A at eight tomorrow morning."
"Do you know if the rest of the team has arrived?" Dev asked.
"I believe the other two members of your group checked in last week."
The research team. Two of the scientists who'd been planning this mission for years. It was them who needed to open the bridge between our time and the last ice age, who would guide us towards the source on the other side and get us back when we were done They were the real heroes, we were just the pack mules carrying their power. Human batteries. I wondered if they were nervous too.
The receptionist handed us key cards. We took the lift to the third floor in silence. Stephen and Dev were looking at their phones, reading something. I watched the numbers light up. One. Two. Three.
The hallway was carpeted. Warm lighting. Identical doors stretching in both directions.
"I'm in 304," Stephen said. "Dev?"
"306. Ellie?"
"310," I said. "End of the hall."
"I guess one of the scientists has the room in between," Stephen said.
“Or both of them,” Dev said, trying his keycard. “I didn’t catch their names, but I heard they’re a mated pair.”
“Mated and working together? Sounds like a nightmare to me,” snorted Stephen. I managed a smile.
"Right then." Dev shifted his bag. "Should we... unpack? Get settled?"
"I'm going to sleep for twelve hours," Stephen said. "Wake me up when it's time to save humanity."
They headed to their rooms. I walked down the hallway, key card in hand, and was reaching for my door handle when I heard the voice.
Male. Familiar enough that my body locked before my mind understood why.
