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Lily moved across the street into the shaded archway above them. As she closed in, the sensation from his Flare faded, and he backed into the wall.

The boy scowled. “Are you by yourself?”

She slowed. “Are you?”

He nodded.

Lily stammered, looking for something, anything, to say. “Do you know how much trouble you’ve got me in?”

His face pinched, throat bobbing like he wanted to speak.

What kind of a question was that? He was a Hazevale. Just because he was a child didn’t mean he wasn’t instilled with hatred for the Wraith. “Did you tell him where I was?”

“Who?”

“The—” Lily cut herself off when she realized her temper was raising her voice. “That Stalker. Neir.”

His eyes widened. “You saw him?”

“He found me, looking for you.”

The boy pushed into the wall like he could disappear into it. “You’re not going to take me to him, are you?”

Lily faltered.

“You can’t give me back to him!”

She flinched like the pitch of his voice would hit her. She placed a finger over her lips, trying to shush him, then crept to the wall behind the stairs, watching the street for anyone noticing his yelling. The boy moved to cower in the corner.

He’s scared… “You don’t want him to find you.”

He shook his head, tears welling in front of his golden soul.

Lily laughed, short and humorless. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

He sucked in a breath, pressed his lips, and turned away from her.

“Why are you here?”

Silence.

Lily sighed, sitting down fully. A thousand thoughts sprinted through her head regarding his origin. None of which she could be sure of, except for one.

“Do you know who I am?”

“You’re the Wraith,” he mumbled.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Your eyes are purple. And my skin feels funny.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Lily shrugged. “And since your eyes are gold, and my skin feels funny, you must be the Guardian.”

A pause, then he nodded.

A part of it, anyway. “Where’s your mother? Did Brialis bring you here?”

His lips drew into a hard line.