“That’s Margie.” Evan smiled. “She got here after twenty years in a wheelchair and said she couldn’t wait for heaven to try on her dancing shoes.”
Her joy was palpable. “When did she arrive?”
“Just a few days ago. She’ll be leaving us soon.” A tinge of sadness leaked into his brother’s voice. “The happiest ones generally have the shortest stays.”
Marcus didn’t want to ask what that meant about a man who’d stayed forty-three years.
Two more of the shadows drew closer, the taller one singing the odd, tuneless lullaby Marcus remembered. Evan waved. “That’s Victoria and Davey. He’s our lost little waif. Vicki takes good care of him.”
Marcus studied the sad little boy clutching a stuffed Kermit the Frog nearly as big as he was. “What’s wrong with him?”
Evan shook his head. “We don’t know. He lost his magic crossing the mists-he’s a fire witchling, and fire can’t withstand the cold and wet of the journey here. He threw a three-day tantrum when he arrived and hasn’t said a word since. He just rocks and makes that high-pitched whining sound.”
Marcus could hear the sound now-manic bees laced with a little nails-on-chalkboard. An hour of it would drive a man to drink. “How long has he been here?”
“Seventeen years.”
The insanity of it nearly struck Marcus dumb. “You’ve been listening to that for seventeen years?”
“Nope.” Evan laughed and reached into his pocket for two odd yellow cylinders. “Earplugs.” He grinned. “And Vicki’s really, really hard of hearing.”
Thank the gods for small mercies.
“Come on.” Evan hopped to his feet. “Let’s take a walk.”
Marcus rose more slowly, surveying the unending gray. “Does it ever look any different than this?”
“No.”
It was a single word-but the longing that rose up in his brother’s soul nearly knocked Marcus flat. Evan had lived here forty-three years-and home was still a beach in Nova Scotia.
“Why?” The word was ripped from Marcus’s throat. “Why did you leave?”
“I don’t know.” His brother stopped, eyes infinitely sad. “I can’t ever remember. I only know that one day I was here, and I couldn’t go home.”
Horror iced Marcus’s veins. He slid down to the ground, reaching for a small boy to hold.
“Please.” Evan squirmed out of reach, a plea in his eyes. “Don’t think about that-it will drain the magic keeping you here.”
He couldn’t leave yet-too many questions unanswered. Marcus gulped air and tried to push away the heartrending image of a lost little boy alone in this unending abyss.
“It’s gotten better,” said Evan softly. “The last year has been a great gift. I’ve been able to come visit a little.”
Because of Net power. “The ghost in Realm.” And the mysterious alarms. Not danger. Evan. More of Kevin’s data points.
“Yeah.” Blue eyes twinkled. “The babies were always happy to see me. You, not so much.”
Pain seized Marcus’s heart again. “You came to see me?”
“Not often.” Sorrow weighted Evan’s entire body. “The mists were never strong enough. I could hear you calling.” He paused, gulping painfully. “I don’t think you could hear me answer.”
Never. Not once.
Evan punched him in the arm. “And then Net power happened and I could finally come and all you would freaking think about was turnips and kissing and how I was this stupid voice from your mind’s filing cabinet.”
Gods. “I’m sorry.” The words rasped out over a throat dry as dust.
His brother reached into a small sack and pulled out a bottle. “Here. Water.” His eyes twinkled again. “The one thing we have plenty of around here.”
Marcus drank and looked at the small boy who was his twin. And needed to say the words deep in his heart. “To be able to still laugh here-” he rasped in a breath, determined to get the rest out, “is an act of courage beyond measure.”
“It’s why I liked to visit the babies.” Evan looked down at the ground, chin wobbling with unshed tears. “Some days I was running out.”
Marcus regretted every day in forty-three years that he hadn’t sent laughter out into the universe. He would never make that mistake again.
“Morgan’s giggles are magic,” said his brother softly. “For both of us.”
Morgan. The reason he was here. “How did you do it? How did you get into Realm?” Where Evan could go, maybe the mists could follow.
“Net power rocks.” Evan’s grin was back. “When I go to the edge of the mists, I can see it.”
“They connect?” The thought scared Marcus silly.
“No.” His brother seemed very sure. “It’s like a bridge that’s missing the middle. But it gives me something to aim at.”
This was beginning to sound like one of the dumber pirate stunts they’d pulled as boys. “Just exactly how are you getting across?”
“I jump.” Evan took a swig of water. “Missed a couple of times, but I have it pretty much figured out now.”
A couple of stray dots connected in Marcus’s head. “Wait. You said that fire witches lose their magic in the mists. What are you using to power all this?”
“The mists,” said Evan, holding out his palms, a small energy flow moving between them. “The same way astral travelers are powered. I channel it much like fire power. It weaves and folds and wraps into spells-not happily, but it can be done.” He put his chin back on his knees. “I’ve had a lot of time to practice.”
A spellcaster in the mists. “It’s how you sent Adele. And Morgan.”
Humor flooded into his brother’s eyes. “Adele was easy. Realm’s this huge, gleaming fortress of Net power, and that fetching spell of Nell’s is very handy.” He grimaced. “Your front porch was harder.”
Marcus had a hundred questions, but he could feel power lines tugging him now. They didn’t have a lot more time. “Tell me about Morgan.”
“She’s the daughter of the only traveler I couldn’t send home.” Evan’s mind drenched in guilt. “I think giving birth triggered emergence of her magic, and it was stronger than anything I’ve ever seen. Twice I managed to send her back, but the third time she came, Morgan was with her.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Her soul’s tether had already snapped.”
Marcus could read the rest. “She left the baby with you.”
“I couldn’t keep her. This is no place for a baby.” Evan looked up, eyes hollow with grief. “Tell Morgan her mama’s name was Emma, and she loved her very much.”
The power tug was much stronger now. “How do I keep her safe?”
Evan shook his head. “I don’t know.” His grin was achingly lopsided. “But I know you’re the smartest brother I’ve got.”
Marcus grabbed his brother in a bear hug. “I’ll come back.”
“No.” Evan held tight. “You can’t-it’s too dangerous. I won’t always be here to catch you.”
Protest died as Marcus realized how much magic was working to keep him safe.
Two small hands cupped his face-but the eyes belonged to a man who had lived centuries. “Do the one thing I can’t.” Evan’s face crumpled. “Go home. Live.”
Lauren clung to her husband. Marcus’s sadness was awful. Evan’s was worse.
She no longer tried to block it. Every word, every stitch of laughter and anger and grief-all telegraphed down the mighty rope of power and love that anchored Marcus into the world of the living.
Shutting it off might have weakened the rope-so she’d done her job and let what was happening in the mists rip her to shreds.
He was coming back to them now. She could feel the rope folding in on itself, filaments stretched to their limits
