Rachel managed to hold herself together through the entire service. She had never been religious herself, so the words of the reverend washed over her without impact. Still, every time she glanced at Natalie—sitting next to Jenny's mother and holding tight to her hand—Rachel struggled to keep her face calm.

As everyone rose for the last words, Rachel looked back at the treeline. Cinza's people were still there, though Rachel could only make out one of them clearly. It was Cinza herself, silver-grey hair in place and her hood down. She made a small gesture, and a huge flock of perfect yellow butterflies appeared in the field, fluttering up into the sky. To anyone else, they would have looked totally natural—only Rachel could see the imperfections, or connect them to the vague outline of a person sequestered amongst the pines.

The crowd watched them float away, Jenny's parents weeping openly. Natalie stayed with them while everyone filed by to give their condolences. Rachel and Will were near the end of the line, just in front of the mayor and behind Kendra. Rachel's eyes were clear and her face set. As Kendra finished and stepped away, she moved up to greet the couple.

She stopped. The Wilsons were glaring up at her. Ingrid was still crying through her narrowed eyes, but she managed to express terrifying fury in spite of it. Barely-contained rage practically radiated off of her. Rachel automatically took a step back.

Natalie, only seeing the step, looked up at Jenny's mother—and she too backed away from the fledgling storm. The young girl balled her fist, sensing danger.

"Why are you here?" Ingrid snarled.

"I…" Rachel trailed off. She hadn't expected this. She didn't know what to do.

"Ingrid? Paul?" Rowan asked, stepping up. "Is something wrong?"

"Do you know?" Paul asked, his voice hoarse. "Do you know what she is?" There was bitter venom in his voice. Rachel felt sickened.

"I do," Rowan said firmly. "And she has done nothing wrong."

Ingrid let out a strangled sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Nothing wrong, our mayor says! Oh, sure, nothing wrong! Except that our little girl is dead!"

"That wasn't me…" Rachel protested weakly, but her voice was thick with emotion and she could barely force the words out. She stumbled back over her dress and fell to the ground, where suddenly the entire world towered over her and not the other way around. The Wilsons loomed like enraged titans, the mayor and Will as bulwarks trying to hold them at bay.

"She was murdered by one of you freaks," Ingrid spat.

A shiver rolled through Rachel. She'd been called that name before, though it had been less to do with magic and more to do with her awkward height and appearance when she was younger—but it stung much harder from the furious woman above her. The crowd was uneasy. It wasn't as though they agreed with Ingrid's words—but none would dare stand in the way of a grieving mother.

"Jenny was murdered?" Natalie asked. Rachel hadn't realized Natalie didn't know. Natalie was looking at her with expectant trust. Rachel gave her a brief nod. "Who did it?"

"Someone she's probably protecting!" Paul shouted.

"Absolutely not!" Jackie shouted back. The sheriff muscled her way in between Paul and Rachel, who was still sitting dumbfounded in the dirt. "I've been trying to find the son of a bitch for days—with her. He's out in the woods, not in our town. Rachel's doing her part to fix this."

"I—" Rachel started, but she was quickly shouted over.

"She's misleading you! All of you! She's made a deal with the devil, and we're paying the price," Paul cried, starting to sound hysterical. Jackie faltered. The sheriff looked as though she might strike the man. Rachel couldn't think of a worse idea at that moment—but apparently she was wrong.

It wasn't the sheriff though. Reverend Henry Smith, looking perfectly calm, stepped up next to the sheriff and smacked Paul Wilson across the face. The silence that followed was deafening.

"Paul, you are a better man than this," Henry said firmly, in the clear carrying voice of any great preacher. "The Lord does not teach us to be full of wrath. That is for Him alone to decide." Paul looked as though he might retort, but Henry continued. "If the courts find her guilty, then I have no doubt you will see punishment from on high, but it is not for us to persecute."

He turned and offered a hand to Rachel. She felt even more dumbfounded. The reverend was possibly the last person she expected support from. She reached and took it, finding his grip firm and true. He pulled her gently to her feet, where she once again stood over all in attendance. Rachel didn't feel tall though—she felt like a child, hiding and staying silent while the adults argued and fought in front of her.

"Are you alright, child?" Henry asked.

"I… yes, thank you," she answered, breathless.

"This applies to all of you!" he continued, as though a megaphone had suddenly appeared before his mouth. "These people are still members of our community. We were taught to love our neighbors as ourselves, regardless of their background. Did not Jesus meet with everyone, no matter their choices or beliefs?"

There was some grumbled assent.

"What about the robed freaks in the forest?" Paul asked. "You said the murderer was out in the woods. Did you ever go after them?"

"The killer targeted them too," Jackie said. "I'm not revealin' any more details than that during an ongoing investigation."

"They have been harmed just as we have been harmed," Henry called out. "Our neighbors, our brethren in Rallsburg have been persecuted. I for one intend to join with them and defend against this evil." He looked at Rachel with an intense gaze. For a brief moment, Rachel could understand how some preachers managed to gain such huge flocks of worshippers. His eyes had a passion that begged you to follow wherever he lead. "Will you take me to meet with them?"

Rachel took a moment to realize she'd just been asked a question. "I'll ask."

Henry clasped her hands warmly. "Thank you, Rachel. Tomorrow, then." He bowed to the Wilsons, then strode away back into town.

Once the Reverend left, the remainder of the memorial party quickly dispersed. The Wilsons shot a few more angry glances at Rachel, but did not confront her. Rachel was too stunned by what had just occurred to do much of anything for a few minutes. Will helped her to her seat and stayed with her until the park had emptied itself down to just the two of them, the mayor and the sheriff.

As the sun began to fall in the sky, Cinza emerged from the forest to join them. Her jewelry and charms jangled as she crossed the field, echoing over the birdsong that filled the air.

"That service was much more dramatic than I expected," she commented.

Jackie shot her a dark look. "Don't joke around about this shit, kid."

"My apologies," Cinza said sincerely. She bowed her head slightly, and her hair immediately faded back to its normal brown—without the flashy transition that normally accompanied it. She still didn't drop her vocal enchantment, but it seemed lessened somehow at least. "I meant no disrespect."

"Wilsons're right about one thing though, we need to catch the son of a bitch."

"Indeed." Cinza looked back out at the forest. "My people have been exploring the forest in shifts, but without so much as a hint of activity. I assume your contact has found nothing either?" she asked, looking back at Rachel. A few moments of silence passed without a response. "Rachel?"

Rachel was staring at the ground, barely paying attention. Her brain was replaying the conversation endlessly. The venom in Ingrid Wilson's eyes, the pain in Paul's hoarse voice. She couldn't break away from the guilt that was seizing her throat and clamping down hard on her chest. Her heart ached in a way she'd never known before.

"Rachel," Will said, squeezing her hand.

She finally looked up. "What?"

"Cinza was asking if your friend found anything yet on Omega."

"Oh. I… no. Nothing." Rachel's eyes fell to the ground again, where a tiny yellow dandelion sprouted near her foot.

"So we've still got nothing to go on," Rowan sighed.

Jackie shrugged. "Not exactly. We know this guy can't make a move into town directly, and we know his associate—whoever that is—can't use magic himself without popping up all over our mysterious benefactor's radar. And everyone in town's accounted for. We also know he's plannin' to make a move soon, if he blocked off all our escape routes."

"Aren't we worried that it'll be something drastic? Something massive?"

"It's not Omega's style," Will replied. "He was always very stringent on making sure the general public was never involved. Way more than the rest of the awakened. He'd never involve people without magic."

"Unless the rules have changed now that we all know," Rowan said. "Maybe we count as valid targets now."

"Maybe. Couldn't say. So far, no one has been attacked besides Jenny, and aren't we pretty sure that was accidental?"

"Accidental?"

Jackie nodded. "Little girl was down behind the chair and got hit by whatever killed Alex, punched right through everythin'. I don't think they knew she was there."

"Good God," Rowan murmured. "That just makes this even worse." His phone started buzzing. "That's my cue, I suppose. More concerned citizens. Excuse me."

Jackie left as well, giving Rachel another sidelong glance. She still hadn't spoken up, letting Will fill in for her in the conversation.

"I know your secret," Cinza said abruptly.

"What?" Rachel asked, snapping her eyes up to the short girl's face. Even seated, Rachel still just matched Cinza's height. The symbol of the eight-pointed star from the book caught the sun and reflected it into her eyes, forcing her to squint a little.

"I know that Will here is the one you use to track magic." Will stood up abruptly, but Cinza raised her hand. "I found out myself, and no one else knows. I won't ever tell a soul. But I believe you should know that in the event he is targeted for his abilities, I'm prepared and willing to defend him, as I am you. I tell you this because I trust you."

"Thank you," Rachel said, but her heart wasn't in it. The offer she'd made was generous and borne of friendship, but Rachel was still wracked with guilt and shame. Her eyes once again sunk to the ground, watching the edge of Cinza's robes flutter around her boots.

Cinza cleared her throat. "Will, may I have a minute with her?"

Rachel didn't hear a reply, but after a few moments, Will stood and walked away. She was suddenly very, very alone. Rachel lifted her legs up to her chair, trying to curl into a ball. She didn't want to interact with the world, even though her brain pressed her to gather every detail around her no matter how inane. Her enhancements were playing havoc with her emotional state and it was turning her into a perfect self-analyzing wreck.

She knew she was feeling guilty for something she had no direct responsibility for. Rachel also knew she was overcome with emotions created by proximity to grief, and that human chemistry played a meaningful part of her current state. Logically, she could conclude that it was a phase that should pass with time, and that her state of being was only brought on by stress, a lack of relaxation and an overwhelming abundance of overactivity in both her brain and her body over the last couple of weeks.

It didn't matter, though. The emotions crashed through her anyway, and she felt helpless and alone even with her beloved by her side. Now that he'd left them, Rachel wanted the world to just go away and leave her alone, before more tragedy struck.

"Rachel, do you know what happens when you awaken?" Cinza asked.

Of all the questions, Rachel had not expected that one. "What?"

"Do you know what happens when you awaken?"

"No. I mean, yes, I guess. I… I don't understand what you're asking?"

Cinza knelt down in front of her, and held out her hand. A tiny orb of light spun into being, floating above her fingertips. She let it dance and spin while she spoke. Her voice had completely lost its usual ethereal, floaty whisper-echo. Instead, Cinza spoke with the hard edge and accent she'd once revealed to Rachel, the true voice she never shared with the world.

"Think about the word we've settled on, 'awakened'. It's not by accident. When we transition into this life, our eyes are opened to a few fundamental truths in the universe. The first, and most important, is that there are things beyond our comprehension."

"But—"

"Magic, Rachel. We approach it as a science, but it is not a science. It is strange and beautiful and terrifying. Even in our first moments, we come so close to death we can taste it." Cinza let the orb split out into the eight-pointed star of the book, which continued to gently spin around her palm. "Grey-eyes always saves us, but anyone who has taken that leap knows what it means to come out the other side. We know that there was a point where we could take no more, where beyond lay the impossible unknown."

"Why are you telling me this?" Rachel asked, still watching the star. She didn't want to look at anyone's face anymore, and certainly not up where the portrait of Jenny still sat at the front of the rows of empty chairs.

"Because you know this. You have walked this path, same as I have. The same as Alexander and Jaysmith, the same as Will and Ryan and Kendra and Rika. The same as the many who follow in my wake, or the council who follows you in yours." Cinza's voice grew stronger. "We are pioneers in a world that truly needs them again. Where we are walking, there is no precedent to follow. You and I have only ourselves to fall upon. What we know, and what the mundane people of Rallsburg do not, is that the dragons are real. The danger is real. They believed they had the world mapped out, and they were wrong."

Rachel finally looked at her. Cinza's small dark eyes were fierce and wild. She looked ready for a fight. Rachel could feel the heat radiating off her skin, as she was almost close enough to touch. "But I—"

"You feel grief, and you should. Two of our own were lost, and we might have lost a third if not for your quick action in the forest. We also lost an innocent, a child who might have joined us one day, or might simply have lead a full and happy life." The portrait of Jenny loomed over her shoulder, punctuating her words. "They've passed from this world. We have not. We press on, and we work to make sure no one else has to join them. You have done incredible things building this council and bringing together every wayward soul who has crossed into our realm. Now is the time we defend them."

Rachel nodded. "So what do we do?"

Cinza smiled grimly. She snapped her hand shut on the star, and grabbed both of Rachel's hands from her lap with one swift movement. Her skin felt hot and her grip intense.

"We go hunting."

Hearing the echo of her own words, spoken only the night before, brought Rachel back. She still felt weak and unhinged, like she were fragile and could collapse with the right push, but she was no longer broken. She could stand, and so she stood.

As she did, her mind began to churn again. Rachel processed through everything she'd heard and everything she knew, searching for a solution. Not a solution, she realized—a battleplan. They needed to arm themselves. There was no point trying to track the untrackable. Omega was clearly too clever to be found with the means they had at their disposal. Rachel had to change the field.

There was one way. A new resource that had been introduced not so long ago—and one that Rachel suspected had set off the entire chain of events. It was forbidden, it could tear her beloved council apart, but it was her only option.

"Cinza, I have a plan."

She smiled. "Precisely the words I wanted to hear, glorious leader."