While the tree’s ritual had clearly empowered Daniel, the exact definitions of that escaped Riordan. It made Daniel more solid, capable of limited physical interaction, and the tree also granted him a fancy special gift. Still, Riordan was pretty sure he’d heard that Zeren could manifest and that was the only other empowered ghost he knew.

Daniel whipped around to stare at Riordan. “What?”

“You can move things around now, right? Can you make yourself visible or heard to people besides Mark and me? I know it’s pretty new.”

Riordan hoped manifesting didn’t cost his friend too much energy. He was quickly realizing that he really knew very little about the mechanics of how ghosts worked. Were they like death mages, unable to regenerate power on their own? If so, did they slowly fade away? Riordan had heard of ghosts fading into nothing, but it seemed to take a long time and the stories were never consistent.

Magic had structure and rules to it, but since so many of them responded to ephemeral or internal processes, measuring and defining those rules proved challenging. Add in the mentality that magic was more of an art than a science and the fact that few sane mages worked with ghosts, well, that resulted in a lack of reliable information.

Annie and Mark both watched this exchange intently, even if Annie could only see half of it. Riordan saw the terrible hope in her eyes and hoped they could meet it.

“Yeah, right,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “Let me try that.”

“Just focus on what you want. Intention goes a long way. If you need a boost, feel free to do your thing on me,” Riordan offered, holding out a hand. The draining vines were unpleasant, but the fact that Daniel had a way to directly recharge made him feel better.

Daniel took Riordan’s hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Thanks. I think I can do this.”

The look of intense concentration on Daniel’s face reminded Riordan of young shifters when they first tried to intentionally shift. The expression reminded Riordan of someone who really needed to poo.

Something in the silvery ghostliness of Daniel changed as Riordan watched. He felt the magic as an itch on his skin, that shadow and taste of death that was his new affinity but also not quite. Riordan wondered how many people had studied the difference in death magic on the different sides of the Veil. It was the difference between death as a transition from life and death as a state of being.

The moment Daniel became visible, Annie’s hands flew to cover her mouth and she sobbed, eyes shining.

“Daniel,” she whispered.

“Hello, Aunt Annie,” Daniel said in return, smiling shakily.

The ghost remained colorless and not entirely solid, but he could be seen and heard. His voice wavered from emotion. It faded in and out slightly as if an echo or from a distance, but she could hear it.

Annie was clearly a hugger because she was on her feet with no hesitation, throwing her arms around a ghost. Daniel froze, surprised, and then melted into the embrace.

Riordan looked away, giving them privacy for that moment of raw emotion. Mark watched them, his own eyes softening and a small smile on his lips. They were glad that their friend was so well received.

After a minute, the pair drew apart, though Annie kept a hand on Daniel’s shoulder.

“Oh Daniel, it’s– it’s good to see you. I– When they showed me your body…”

“It’s okay, Aunt Annie. I know this has been hard on you. I’m… I’m sorry that I didn’t make it.”

Annie grew stern again. Just as with Riordan, she smacked Daniel lightly on the arm. “None of that. It wasn’t your fault, little one. I wish… but what is done is done. I will not be ungrateful for this chance to see you one last time.”

Daniel looked slightly sheepish. “It doesn’t have to be just this once.”

“What do you mean, Daniel? Are you stuck here?” Annie grew quite horrified at the thought.

Riordan snorted. “No, he just turned down the chance to move on when he got it.”

“I’m being a good friend!” Daniel objected, pouting. He still leaned into his aunt’s touch, hungry for contact.

“Yeah, you really are,” Riordan agreed. He truly felt grateful for Daniel.

Some measure of that must have shown on his face because Annie looked from Daniel to Riordan and back before smiling slightly. “I sense a story there.”

“There is one,” Riordan said, cutting in before Daniel could, “but we can’t tell you much of it because of the rules.”

“Because of magic?” she asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, because of magic.”

“Hmm.” Annie settled down into her seat again, sliding her hand down to hold Daniel’s hand. She seemed reluctant to let him go yet. “What are you doing now then, Daniel?”

“Following Riordan and helping Mark, mostly. Not many people can see me.”

“I see,” she said. She glanced at the pair of shifters in the room. “I guess we’re going to become friends then. I want to stay in contact with my nephew.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Riordan agreed. “I have restrictions on me, but I at least have a phone number now. Mark would be a better contact.”

“What sort of restrictions?” Annie asked, clearly curious.

“Most people can’t see ghosts, not even among those with magic,” Mark explained. “The approved method of doing so is via a spiritual contract, which is how I did it.”

“And the unapproved method?”

“Via death magic.”

Annie turned her gaze on Riordan. “I gather that you used that method.”

Riordan shrugged but nodded. “It wasn’t intentional. A lot happened with the people who attacked us. It ended up that either I had to use death magic or a bunch of people would have died. Still, I’m not well liked at the moment.”

Annie tsked lightly and reached out to pat Riordan’s arm. “Screw them,” she said bluntly, not bothering to mince words. “You tried to save my nephew’s life and clearly have been an excellent friend to him if he’s willing to stay for you. So screw them and their opinions.”

Everyone in the magical community knew that death mages were terrible people who had to be stopped regardless of how well intentioned or pitiful. Riordan’s own “fuck off” attitude warred with his training as he tried to assess himself. He wasn’t corrupted, but he was a death mage. No one liked death mages. He didn’t like death mages. And he’d already hated himself.

So to hear someone say so unequivocally that it didn’t matter, that Riordan wasn’t just damned by his past but judged by his present…

He looked away. “Thank you.”

Daniel squeezed his aunt’s hand and grinned. “And that’s basically what I do for him too. Riordan needs someone with common sense around.”

“And that’s you?” Mark teased.

“More than most people,” Daniel quipped right back, still smiling. “You shifters are a shifty lot and the mages have a stick up their butts. Except Quinn. He’s cool.”

“Shifter?” Annie asked. She took her hand off of Riordan’s knee to pick up her tea cup again, leaning back as if it was story time. Her other hand remained firmly in Daniel’s grip.

Mark shot a look at Daniel. “Thanks for that, Daniel.”

“Whoops?” Daniel said with a shrug. “I trust Aunt Annie. She isn’t going to abuse anything she hears.”

Riordan leaned back in his chair as well, though he left the tea alone. It was fine, but tea still tasted like wet plants to him. Okay, but not his first choice. He grinned toothily at Mark. “Well? I’ll leave this one up to you. We all know that my judgment is considered suspect.”

“Mine is too after last night,” Mark grumbled. He heaved a melodramatic sigh before giving Annie his best customer service smile. “You understand that anything you hear here is not to be shared with permission from someone from the greater magical community?”

“Mark,” Annie said slowly, as if explaining to a small child. “My nephew’s continued existence seems to be tied up in these secrets. I will not do anything to jeopardize his safety.”

“Then let me give you a short explanation on affinity magic and the cultural and practical differences between mages and shifters.”

Mark proved to be a surprisingly good teacher and Annie an unsurprisingly astute student. Before long, the four of them had devolved into a philosophical and theoretical debate on the nature of magic and how it might tie into the body versus the soul. Annie brought out sandwich fixings and gingersnap cookies to go with more tea when lunch time hit.

They dodged the details of the events that brought them to this meeting, skipping from stories of Daniel’s past to discussions of spirits as a concept to what sorts of foods everyone liked. After so much grief and loss lately, they needed that light conversation.

Still, as the hours wore on, Annie sighed and set aside both her latest cup of tea and the previous topic as she asked, “So what happens now?”

“Honestly, I ask myself that daily right now,” Riordan replied. He tried not to be bitter about it, but was it really too much to ask to have enough time to reforge his foundations into something solid? He was tired of feeling shaken by his circumstances.

Daniel just shrugged. “I plan to help out Mark and Riordan as much as I can, but I don’t have a lot of direct influence to do so. I’ll have free time to come visit.”

Annie smiled at her nephew. “I would like that.”

He smiled back, looking so much like her. “I would like that too. I’ve missed you.”

She nodded wordlessly and swallowed. Annie had come very close to never seeing Daniel again, never having a chance to even say goodbye, much less continue her relationship with him. This meeting was a gift she would not take for granted.

“All of you are always welcome in my home,” Annie stated firmly. “No matter what else happens, I want you to remember that.”

Riordan’s breath hitched and he swallowed hard. When was the last time he’d had a welcome like that? An offer of not only temporary shelter, but of a home? Fuck, he didn’t want to think about this.

“Thank you,” Mark replied. “We don’t do tokens the way mages do. I’d offer a spirit’s blessing to you, as shifters do, but I must be cautious with my patron spirit.”

“And Riordan can’t offer either?” Annie asked, curious but not offended.

“Same patron spirit, plus he’s a mess of a caster,” Mark assessed. “I would not recommend it.”

“Hey!” Riordan objected.

“Am I wrong?”

“No, but you didn’t have to tell her that,” Riordan grumbled, playing it up. Annie laughed, the grief that had so weighed on her when they’d arrived eased but not gone.

Daniel smiled at his aunt. He’d managed to stay mostly manifest for the hours of their visit, but he looked tired and less solid now. With luck, time would recover his energy. Otherwise, Riordan would insist on giving him a boost of energy to see if it helped.

“You can see why they need me,” Daniel told her.

Annie looked over the three young men before her. “I think you all need each other. Finding true friends is a blessing.”