They didn’t leave immediately.
Partly because Isla wasn’t entirely sure her legs would support her.
Mostly because none of them trusted turning their backs on La Boca Del Mundo so soon after poking it.
“Give it a minute,” Tim said, voice hoarse. “See if it… belches.”
“Delightful image,” Isla muttered.
She sat on a fallen stone, hands braced between her knees, heart pounding.
Her thumb still throbbed.
The scar glowed faintly under the skin.
The line between it and the scale in the coal room vibrated like a plucked wire.
Under her feet, the new tether hummed.
Not as loud.
But present.
“Is it… stable?” she asked, looking up at Cael.
He stood in the center of the ruined well, shoulders bowed, chest heaving.
He looked… smaller.
Not in height.
In… presence.
Like he’d poured a chunk of himself into the ground.
“It holds,” he said. “For now.”
She didn’t like how often he said that.
Tim scanned the tree line.
“Jay?” he asked, tapping his earpiece. “You still with us?”
Static crackled.
Then: “Mostly,” Jay’s voice wobbled. “Signal dipped when the ground did the cha-cha. Leona’s sensors at HQ spiked at the same time, by the way. She thinks it’s the cathedral. Her face when she sees it was actually your cursed convent is going to be *priceless.*”
“Assuming we live to see it,” Isla said.
“Minor detail,” Jay replied. “How are you guys?”
“Alive,” Tim said. “Shaken. Slightly more cursed.”
“Par for the course,” Jay said. “Leona’s still downtown. She pinged me to pull more data on the cathedral anomalies. She doesn’t suspect you’re joyriding with the crack-thing. Yet.”
“Let’s keep it that way,” Tim said.
Isla looked at Cael.
He’d gone very still.
Too still.
“Cael?” she said softly.
No response.
His eyes were open.
But he wasn’t… there.
Not entirely.
She stood—knees protesting—and moved closer.
Tim made a noise of protest.
She ignored him.
“Hey,” she said, reaching out.
Her hand hovered over his arm.
She hesitated.
Consent.
She curled her fingers into a fist.
“Cael,” she said again. Louder.
His gaze snapped to hers.
For a moment, there was something else in it.
Not the crack-thing.
But… an echo.
Of it.
Her stomach lurched.
Then it cleared.
His mouth twitched.
“You do not have to shout,” he said.
Relief made her dizzy.
“Don’t go away like that,” she snapped. “We’re in the middle of nowhere on top of a freshly tied crack. If you mentally check out, we all die.”
“I was… listening,” he said. “To how it settles.”
“Warn us next time,” Tim muttered. “Maybe wave a hand. Put up a ‘Be Right Back, Mentally Wrestling Eldritch Horror’ sign.”
Cael’s lips curved.
“I will consider it,” he said.
He stepped out of the circle of stones.
The air lightened.
Just a fraction.
“Now we go,” he said. “Before it decides to test us again.”
Isla nodded.
Her legs didn’t feel up to another quake.
They made their way back to the trailhead in silence.
Leaves rustled.
A crow cawed.
Isla jumped.
“Relax,” Tim said. “If the crack-thing had followed us into the parking lot, I think we’d notice.”
“You joke,” she said. “But I’ve read enough folklore to know monsters love hitchhikers.”
“Did you just call me a hitchhiker?” Cael asked mildly.
She shot him a look.
“If the shoe fits,” she said.
He glanced down at his boots.
“I still do not like your shoes,” he said.
“Blame capitalism,” she replied.
By the time they reached the car, her legs shook with exertion and raw nerves.
She sagged against the door, closing her eyes briefly.
The world narrowed to the smell of pine and exhaust and sweat.
“Hydrate,” Tim commanded, pressing a water bottle into her hand.
She drank.
The cold liquid grounded her.
“Your hand,” Cael said quietly.
She looked down.
Blood smeared her palm.
Dried now, tacky and dark.
Some of it hers.
Some of it Tim’s.
Some of it… dragon.
She should have been horrified.
Instead, she felt… weirdly anchored.
Like the three of them were thumbtacked together to reality.
“I’ll clean it in the car,” she said.
He frowned.
“Here,” he said.
He reached for her.
She flinched.
He paused.
Waited.
She exhaled.
“Ask,” she said.
He inclined his head.
“May I?” he asked quietly.
Her throat worked.
“Yes,” she said.
He took her hand gently.
Raised it to his mouth.
Her breath hitched.
He didn’t kiss the scar this time.
He blew warm air over it.
A thin curl of smoke ghosted out of his lips.
Dragon heat.
It warmed the dried blood.
Softened it.
The ache in her palm eased.
He turned her hand over and over, fingers tracing the lines of her skin with a reverence that felt indecent.
“Stop,” she whispered.
He did.
Immediately.
He let her hand go.
No lingering.
No joke.
Just… obedience.
Her chest tightened.
“Thank you,” she said hoarsely.
He nodded once.
Tim cleared his throat.
“I feel like I should buy you guys dinner or something after watching that,” he muttered.
Heat flared in her cheeks.
“Get in the car,” she said.
***
The drive back was… quieter.
Partly because they were all exhausted.
Partly because the hum of the new tether was a constant low ache in the back of Isla’s skull.
She could feel the difference now.
Two lines.
One under the city.
Old.
Deep.
Heavy.
One under La Boca Del Mundo.
New.
Raw.
Hungry.
Not as deep.
But growing.
“It will… thicken,” Cael said when she tried to describe it. “Like scar tissue. The more it chews there, the more it will… forget your city.”
“Can it forget?” she asked.
He considered.
“Maybe not… forget,” he said. “But… prefer.”
“Like a dragon and its favorite cave,” she said.
He smiled faintly.
“Yes,” he said.
Tim glanced at them in the rearview mirror.
“You two are way too casual about training an existential horror like a housepet,” he said.
Isla’s lips twitched.
“Everyone needs a hobby,” she said.
Jay’s voice crackled back in.
“Leona’s noticed,” he said without preamble.
Cold shot through her.
“Not… us,” he added quickly. “The spike. In the countryside. Her sensors lit up. She’s trying to triangulate. My money’s on her calling it ‘regional tectonic anomaly’ in the memo while making the ‘hmmm’ face in private.”
“Can she trace it to La Boca?” Tim asked.
“Not easily,” Jay said. “The nearest official sensors are twenty miles away. Your little blood party only registered as a blip. Enough to make her curious. Not enough to make her get in a car.”
“Yet,” Isla muttered.
“Yet,” Jay agreed. “But her net’s widening. She asked me to flag any rural seismic anomalies in the last decade. You just made the list.”
“Great,” Isla said. “We’re a data point.”
“On the plus side,” Jay went on, “your decoy scale is giving her a headache. Her magic tech keeps bouncing off it and she can’t figure out why. She thinks it’s a key. She has no idea it’s a lock.”
Cael snorted.
“Good,” he said. “Confuse her.”
“Already doing it,” Jay said. “How are you guys?”
Isla looked at Tim’s white-knuckled grip on the wheel.
At Cael’s too-still posture.
At her own trembling hands.
“Fine,” she said.
Jay sighed.
“Liar,” he said. “But I get it. Come home. We’ll debrief. Then you can all collapse and we’ll pray the crack-thing takes a nap on its new chew toy.”
***
They reached the city at dusk.
The skyline rose ahead of them, familiar and strange.
Isla’s chest tightened at the sight of the museum’s silhouette.
Four floors of old stone.
New wing jutting to the side like an afterthought.
Lights glowing in the windows.
Home.
She hadn’t realized until now how much she’d worried she’d never see it again.
Tim parked in the staff lot.
They sat for a second in the cooling car.
No one moved.
Finally, Isla unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Well,” she said. “That was… a thing we did.”
“Understatement,” Tim said.
Cael climbed out, stretching subtly, as if easing joints unused to car confinement.
He tilted his head back.
Looked at the museum.
His expression was… complicated.
Relief.
Possessiveness.
Something like pride.
“This is mine,” he said softly.
“You mean your hoard,” Isla said.
He shook his head.
“The building,” he said. “The stone. The cracks. The people who walk it. Even the board, annoying as they are. Mine… to guard. To grumble about. To complain when you rearrange the exhibits.”
Her throat tightened.
“You sound like Halpern,” she said thickly.
He smiled faintly.
“Perhaps he and I are not so different,” he said.
“Don’t tell him that,” she said. “He’d be insufferable.”
They walked inside together.
The lobby still smelled like coffee and hand sanitizer.
The security guard on duty—Marcus—raised a hand.
“How was the retreat?” he called. “You all sing kumbaya and process your feelings?”
“Something like that,” Tim said.
“Good,” Marcus said. “Leona was sniffing around your office, Reyes. Said she wanted to talk about your ‘energetic sensitivities.’”
Isla groaned.
“Of course she does,” she muttered.
“Tomorrow,” Tim said firmly. “Tonight we sleep. Or collapse. Or both.”
“Speak for yourselves,” Jay said, popping his head out of the security office. “I’ve got six hours of sensor logs to overanalyze.”
“Try not to fall in love with any graphs,” Isla said.
“Too late,” he said. “Come by later. I’ll show you the one that looks like a middle finger.”
Cael snorted.
They parted ways at the staff corridor.
Tim headed to the security office.
Jay vanished to his nest of monitors.
Isla hesitated at the top of the sub-basement stairs.
Cael paused beside her.
“You should rest,” he said softly.
“So should you,” she shot back.
“I will,” he said. “After I… speak to the cracks.”
“Don’t…” She trailed off.
“Don’t die,” she finished lamely.
He smiled.
“I will try not to,” he said.
On impulse, she reached out.
Curled her fingers in the front of his ridiculous band t-shirt.
Pulled.
He stumbled a half-step closer.
His eyes widened.
“Isla,” he said.
Her heart hammered.
She rose onto her toes and pressed her forehead briefly against his.
Just that.
Skin to skin.
Warm.
Solid.
Grounding.
“Don’t be stupid,” she whispered.
He sucked in a breath.
His hands hovered at her waist.
Didn’t touch.
Consent.
Learning.
Her chest ached.
He exhaled slowly.
“Too late,” he murmured. “We passed ‘stupid’ many moves ago.”
She laughed against his mouth.
Not quite a kiss.
Not yet.
She let go.
Stepped back.
His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.
“We’ll… talk later,” she said.
“Yes,” he said. “Later.”
She fled up the stairs before she could change her mind and do something irreversible.
Behind her, in the sub-basement, a dragon closed his eyes and listened to the foundations.
Two hums.
Two tethers.
One city balanced between them.
***
End of Chapter 18.
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