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Chapter Text

Luz held Willow's hands tightly and they breathed together, soothing the larger witch's nerves little by little. A little bubble seemed to ward off the other students in the hallway, causing them to give the couple a wide berth and providing a curious sort of privacy despite being in plain sight of dozens of people.

Willow's anxiety didn't rise to the same extremes as Luz's panic attacks, but the breathing technique worked well on them both. For once, Luz in a position to repay the many times her girlfriend had helped ease an attack, helping keep her grounded as the clock demon counted the minutes until the plant track competency review. All the what-ifs had accumulated until the witch was left panting, her instincts demanding that she withdraw, accept her lot and just stick with second year classes.

Luz wasn't letting those instincts go unchallenged, rubbing the witch's knuckles gently with her thumbs and smiling quietly up at her. "I love you," she murmured, cutting off the embarrassment and shame threatening to encroach on Willow's green-eyed gaze. The witch instantly blushed, dark spots of red blooming upon her soft cheeks and making Luz want to squeal.

"Oh really?" Willow prompted, those three words bringing back a vestige of her confidence, enticing her to just a hint of sassy behavior that Luz happily rose to.

"Yeah," she shot back cheekily. "What'cha gonna do about that, Willow?"

The witch had trouble suppressing a grin, her lips pulling tight. "I can think of a few things I'd like to do. Again," she added, somehow injecting a wealth of innuendo into the single word.

"Oh..." Somehow Luz's mind hadn't gone in that direction, and now she was the one blushing, her gaze skittering away. She even tried to raise her hands to hide her face, but now Willow was the one keeping a firm grasp on her hands, so that all she could do was squirm and look bashful. "I-I'm not sure if that's supposed to be a th-threat or an incentive, batata."

"Ahem," the demon overhead cleared its throat.

Luz automatically glanced upward at the clock, her blush magnifying as she realized there'd been an audience for their flirting after all. "Oh, sorry!"

"Kids," the face on the clock muttered, then took a deep breath and let out a howl to announce the hour.

Willow was less self-conscious than her, somehow, perhaps because anxiety was quick to try moving back in under the lapse. "That's my cue," she said weakly, the first to let go. "Time to go see if I've learned anything after all."

Luz closed her fingers, catching one of Willow's hands before she could pull away. "Hey, I believe in you. I know you can do this. Just—" Turning the witch's hand over, she pulled out a scrap of paper and laid it in her palm, smiling as Willow looked down at the Light glyph drawn upon it. "—remember to believe in yourself, too."

That smile broke free of its restraints, some moisture likewise managing to escape free from beneath the witch's glasses. She used the back of her free hand to wipe her cheeks, letting out a tremulous breath before seizing Luz by the cheeks and kissing her, the glyph paper tickling against her face between the witch's fingers.

"I love you too," Willow breathed as she reluctantly separated. "I'll wait for you after work." Then she kissed her again, fleetingly, before scampering away to her test with the glyph tucked in the collar of her uniform like a favor bestowed upon a knight.

Luz let out her breath in a sigh, melting a little. She watched Willow go until she could no longer see her any longer, reluctantly turning away— and there was a group of four girls waiting for her.

There had once been a time when the sight would have made her nervous, but the sight of the redheaded teen in their center eased the tension immediately. At this point, she felt no hesitation at all in approaching Boscha, an easy smile quietly warming her face as the athlete hesitantly lifted a hand in greeting. If anything, she would have been more nervous to approach the three without her.

"I thought you were going to do the test, too!" Amelia burst out as she approached. Luz took stock of the others before answering, trying to recall if she had a name for each face. The girl with the glasses was Cat, she was pretty sure, and the slightly thicker witch with long hair and freckles was... Bo? They were both on the healing track, but in a higher grade than she was, so she'd only seen them in passing.

"Oh, I decided I'm still not good enough to pass that yet," she replied, gaze returning to Amelia with a sheepish look. "Still a little nervous about... things. It's getting better though!" She'd been practicing with it a lot. It helped that it was surprisingly hard to get the Plant glyph to do anything destructive, as if the plants she brought forth already knew not to hurt anyone. While pulling out an Ice glyph still put a feeling of sick dread in the pit of her stomach, Plant glyphs only gave her a moment of hesitation.

That hesitation was still making it hard to give clear, precise commands though, and whatever she did with the summoned—created? Called? She still wasn't sure exactly where the plants came from—plants took so much effort that she couldn't use more than one glyph at a time, unlike her Light glyph.

"What, there's something you haven't instantly mastered? I'm shocked, Supernerd," Boscha teased with a dry smirk. Seeing the others look to her for direction, she raised her hands, the expression immediately softening. "That was a joke, that was a joke. At ease, girls. We have a ceasefire." And then to Luz directly, two of her eyes lowering slightly while the upper eye remained on her, Boscha added: "Sorry. Wasn't trying to be mean."

The looks exchanged between Amelia, Bo, and Cat spoke volumes without a word being uttered. They clearly didn't know what to make of the changes in their leader, uncertain how to act on cues which had suddenly become much more ambiguous. If Boscha hadn't been telling them what was going on between her and Luz, then to their perspective, it probably seemed like it came out of nowhere.

People don't really seem to know much about mental health here, Luz thought, not for the first time. She had broached the subject about therapy a little while ago with Eda, only to find out therapists weren't very common since it was hard to convince people to pay money just to talk to someone. Actually making a living out of it took a bit of luck. Psychiatry seemed to still be in its infancy here compared to Earth...

She put on a big smile for all their benefits to show that she hadn't taken offense. "It's fine; I know what I'm about. You could say I wear my interests... on my sleeves." She made jazz hands, flashing her multicolored sleeves. "Eh? Ehhh?"

The stare of disbelief she received was only magnified when it came out three eyes. "Is it— is it safe to call you a dork? Because you're very lucky that you're cute, because you are a huge dork."

Aw, she thinks I'm cute.

"I'll consider it a safe word between us," she managed, chuckling. It was a pity Boscha didn't want to be flirted with, because she was looking pretty cute, herself. When she let herself soften a bit— a niña bonita, indeed! "Were you guys waiting for something?"

That brought Boscha's gaze back fully upon her. "Well, I was. The girls were just keeping me company. You ladies—" And there she hesitated, eyes going to the side as she bit her lip in thought before amending what she'd been about to say. "Um. Thanks for waiting with me."

Again, a three way glance bounced around, this time almost tinged with a hint of panic. Luz had to cover her mouth to hide a smile, both thrilled to see Boscha actually trying, and a little amused by how her followers were struggling to accommodate her changed behavior. She only hoped they weren't stumbling over themselves because of fear. It didn't seem like it, but it wasn't like she really understood the motivations of people who were used to being in with the cool, popular kids in school...

"N-no problem, Boscha," Amelia finally piped up and was quickly echoed by the other two.

The changes were significant, but there was still room for improvement. Boscha dismissed the three too quickly for Luz's taste, turning her attention back on the human. "Can we talk?"

Maybe that was a little imperious, but Luz didn't miss the plaintive edge to it, too. It had been a little while since that meeting at Boscha's house and they hadn't talked much except about classwork and a little awkward small talk, which had been pleasant enough. Luz had been trying to give her space, having heard that she was hanging out with Skara a lot and being able to guess what that entailed.

"I have to head to work, but I can walk and talk if you don't mind?" she offered, and was fully willing to be late to work if it wasn't acceptable. Fortunately, Boscha readily agreed, and with a brief goodbye to the other three—which she visibly had to stop and remember to do, and which came across very much like she was completely unused to bothering—she set out with Luz from the school.

Luz didn't have long to wonder what had prompted this before it just about burst out of the witch, punctuated by nervous peering about at other pedestrians who were clearly paying them no mind. "So, Luz, you, um— you'd asked something last time we had a chance to really talk and I was wondering what the heck you were talking about."

"Gonna have to be more specific," Luz said with a little laugh. "Sorry. I kinda say a lot of things people don't understand."

The witch snorted in amused agreement. "At least you know it, I guess. You— you asked me if I was 'a-sexual.' What did you mean by that?"

Luz cast a glance to her side, instinctively trying to gauge Boscha's mental state before she even thought about answering. "Oh. Is that not a term that gets used here?" It evidently was not. She wound up apologizing, even though Boscha's waspish confirmation was a little uncalled for. Biting her lip carefully, Luz considered.

"Okay," she said after a moment. "I have to say up front that I'm not this way myself, so I can't really say what it's like. I just know it's a real thing that I learned about when I was trying to learn more about myself."

Boscha uttered an impatient groan, but didn't interrupt.

Marshaling her thoughts, Luz laid it out as coherently as she could. About how people didn't necessarily all experience sexual attraction in the same way, or at all. How some needed an established bond before it happened for them, and others never experienced it at all. That even those who experienced it didn't necessarily feel an inclination to actually pursue anything with anyone, and would actually refuse if the opportunity were presented to them.

There was only so much she could get into in the time it took to walk to the library, but Boscha absorbed it all without skepticism or the slightest hint of ridicule. She only asked a few questions, seeking more clarity on those who had no attraction to others at all, and her hesitant admissions clued Luz in on a more precise term she had to dredge up from her memory.

"Some people don't just not experience sexual attraction. For them, it's just... gross, I guess?"

The look on Boscha's face said it all. Luz remembered what it was like when she read online how some kids started to feel less and less comfortable in their own bodies as they developed, that feeling of recognition, of validation.

"Do people really not talk about this sort of thing?" she asked the witch, her heart giving a pang of shared pain. Boscha let out a mirthless laugh and shook her head, her upper eye squinting slightly as her brow lifted in disbelief.

"I was wondering how the freaking heck you know anything about it," she said unsteadily, and Luz halted. The witch's voice broke quietly. "I've spent... my whole— my whole freaking life... thinking nobody else was like this..."

Words defeated her. All Luz could do was spread her arms with a sad little "Hug?" and with a reluctant groan, Boscha stepped into the embrace, head bowed over her shoulder, shoulders shaking as she tried and failed to hold in the tears. The witch's arms moved at her sides, hands slowly, tentatively finding their way to her shoulders, and then Boscha crushed the human to herself with a single muted sob, all that she would allow herself in a public vista.

Sometimes it had to hurt before a person could start to heal.

In Luz's defense, she was mentally worn after a long day of class and the shared emotional toil of Boscha finally getting answers to the questions that had plagued her for so many years. After promising to talk about it more sometime soon, they had both stumbled in opposite directions, Luz to work and Boscha to wherever her feet carried her while she just tried to absorb the ramifications.

Luz wasn't doing much better by the time she felt comfortable letting the witch go, but she did need to get to the library, and so she was doing her best to run.

The collision was purely an accident, just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, although there were some who might have said it was the Titan's sense of humor at play. Luz was running, and suddenly there were three abominations in her path. She dodged around them, stumbled, spun nearly in a complete circle, got her feet beneath her and lunged forward—

And tackled a member of the Emperor's Coven to the ground.

Nobody likes being tackled out of nowhere by a complete stranger who outweighs them by a fair margin, much less after the kind of encounter Amity had just had with her mother. Now she thought she had just been attacked. Trained to respond to an ambush with immediate and overwhelming aggression, the witcheline equivalent of adrenaline was already coursing through her veins.

Luz had a moment to process who and what she had landed upon and the position they were in. If this had been one of her mangas, Amity would have slapped her, she would have wound up following the witch in an effort to explain herself, hijinks would have ensued and they would have quickly fallen in love. She froze, the first words of an apology dying on her lips as the enraged glint of yellow eyes pierced her.

She barely even took in the avian mask or the cloak and robes. Her world shrank down to those eyes, the purple stains of exhaustion surrounding them, hollow and hateful. Even her effort to push away came to a halt as she stared, transfixed as surely as a mouse locking eyes with a snake.

Something in her chest fluttered weakly as time lurched back into action.

"Seriously?" the witch hissed, sounding almost betrayed, and what followed wasn't a slap. Something tickled up Luz's backside—it felt like a snake, and how she knew what a snake slithering up her backside felt like said a lot about her childhood—and then a cord wrapped around her throat before yanking her backwards.

Reality rushed in the instant she realized she couldn't breathe. A thin rivulet of abomination goo had just looped around her neck before taking on the consistency of steel wire. Reduced to animal panic, Luz clawed at the cord as it dragged her off the witch, heels drumming uselessly against the pavement. It wasn't exactly an improvement when the cord abruptly slid off in her hands, only to twist and wind around her wrists. Coughing and gasping raggedly, she didn't even struggle at first. Not until she finally understood why her arms weren't moving properly.

Her eyes caught on the purple ring wrapped around her wrists and Luz went away for a minute. Conscious thought took a back seat to survival instincts and unthinking terror. "You're under arrest for assaulting a member of the Emperor's Coven," growled the person above her in a painful rasp. The words washed over her without meaning. Her eyes were wide, but it wasn't a member of the Emperor's Coven she was looking at.

It was a man, shadowed by the gloom of the alley, removed from the electric lights of the street. It wasn't the putrefying substance of decaying organic matter around her wrists, it was zip tie cuffs. The street was the street, and she was scrambling backwards off her square of cardboard and there was no one to help, he was going to drag her into the trunk of his car and no no no no no—

She was already too panicked to possibly fear her own actions more. With a scream of denial, Luz fumbled in her pocket, the bindings hampering her movement, and spilled a handful of glyphs on the ground. With no hesitation, she banged the back of one hand on a paper.

The witch only had a moment of bemused irritation before an explosion of ice erupted around her ankles, cutting into skin and turning abomination fluids into purple crystals. She stumbled backwards, more out of surprise than pain—although that would come in a moment—and gaped at what proved to be a glacial tower jutting at least ten feet into the air, thick triangular protrusions erupting from the sides. Her abominations stood uselessly to the side, their open maws gaping mutely at the frigid spire as if they were just as shocked as their conjurer.

Gasping for breath, barely aware of anything that wasn't the need to survive just one more minute, Luz scrambled and ran as fast as she could. She ran until her legs ached and her lungs were burning, and then she ran until she was tripping over herself and the sun was down and she had no earthly idea where she was, and then she laid herself down in the forest and cried.

The next few days were hard for both of them, although, of course, neither appreciated the role the other had played.

It took more than half the night for Luz to find her way back to familiar territory. Willow and Eda and King all went out trying to find her, only able to garner from townsfolk that Luz might have been involved in some sort of incident with the Emperor's Coven. By the time she stumbled into the clearing where the Owl House resided, the sun was rising and she was dead on her feet, collapsing in a heap underneath Hooty and falling fast asleep on the doorstep. The house demon's squawks brought Willow running, and eventually the others turned up as well.

Luz hadn't escaped unscathed. Besides several cuts on her legs and bruising on her throat and arms which all needed healing, Luz wasn't able to speak without heavy stuttering for two days, could barely leave her nest, and couldn't talk about what had happened without triggering another panic attack. Willow stayed with her almost the entire time, thanking the Titan constantly that this had happened on Fireday and not a weekday. She took turns comforting and pampering her with Eda and King, oftentimes just sitting with her or cuddling while the human shook silently and huddled under her blankets.

Late Sunday afternoon, the shaking finally eased and the story slowly came out, as much of it as she remembered. To Luz's recollection, it had been a complete accident that went horribly wrong, but everything after her wind cut off was spotty at best. That included the long walk home, wrists tightly bound together until she found a thin creek of fluids cool enough to submerge her arms in until the abomination slime dissolved. She thought she had made her way to the outskirts of Bonesborough and then used that to orient herself and find her way home, but the fact that it had taken so long hinted that she had been lost in the Forearm Forest for quite awhile.

She had no idea if she'd badly hurt the coven scout—she hadn't gotten a good enough look at the mask to realize it was different from others—or not, and the uncertainty was torture. As much as Eda tried to convince her that there was no such thing as an innocent member of the Emperor's Coven, and despite having been hurt and then frightened out of her wits, Luz couldn't help obsessively worrying.

Of them all, Willow was the only one who truly understood. She didn't know if Luz would ever be able to tell her the story of what had happened in the Human Realm to leave her with such fear of hurting another person, but it was hard not to suspect it contributed to the boundless empathy she practiced today.

As badly as it had scared her, had scared them all to imagine Luz being arrested — the surest sign that the human was on the mend was when her mind turned from herself, compelled to take the comfort lavished upon her and repay it upon others in need.

Meanwhile, not so many miles away, another teenager rested and recovered as well. While the ice hadn't caused her serious injury, by the time she submitted to being healed, she was just about ready to fall apart. Over the next few days, Amity realized the encounter with her mother had hurt far worse than she realized — enough that brutally attacking a civilian had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time.

It wasn't that Amity necessarily felt guilty about her actions, but as she slowly recovered, she found herself thinking that her response hadn't been justified at all. She could see in retrospect that it had been an accident and that she had overreacted. Losing control of herself was a failure at the best of times, and in the midst of a delicate subjugation operation, completely inexcusable.

She stopped just shy of hoping she hadn't badly injured the girl.

If it hadn't been for the strange ice magic the peculiar witch had demonstrated, Amity would have put the entire incident out of mind entirely. When she was debriefed after yet another round of healing spells, the Golden Guard seemed oddly pensive about that part too. If only the ice hadn't ruined the other slips of paper that had spilled onto the ground! The water melting off of it had smeared the ink into an unintelligible blur as if they were designed to self-destruct. The Titan sure wasn't doing them any favors...

Amity's mood didn't improve as she spent the next couple of days going through the boxes, discovering that her mother had claimed anything of worth before having it all haphazardly packed away. Mostly that meant jewelry, which she couldn't have cared less about, but her awards and trophies were missing as well. Odalia was sending a clear message that unless she was willing to be completely obedient once again, nothing she had ever done counted for anything.

There were other things seemly plucked out at random, little trinkets of sentimental value for the most part, some of which she only remembered as she found other things to remind her of their absence. Some of them were objects she had secreted away in hopes of keeping them safe from punishment, and she couldn't help wondering if that was why they were gone now — that her mother, not content with the damage done already, had retroactively punished her for daring to think that she could keep anything hidden from her.

Her Azura books were among the missing items. It wasn't like her life left much opportunity to read for pleasure, but considering how much those books had once meant to her, their loss hurt.

Naturally, Amity didn't find any concealment stones tucked among her belongings either. Those weren't cheap enough to waste on the likes of her. She was going to have to do as the Golden Guard had suggested in the first place and cover her wrist with something. It would look conspicuous, but there didn't appear to be any alternative.

Sorting through the boxes was painful, but it gave her something to do while her mind slowly reorganized itself around this jarring new development in her life. As far as she could tell, she had been disowned and none of the rest of her family cared enough to have been present to deliver the news. She was alone in the world now, except for the Emperor's Coven.

She didn't eat or sleep much over those days, which blurred together into a jumble of silent tableaus where she would find herself holding some remnant of a ruined life in her hands, unable to put words to how she felt except that it hurt. She would stare at the trinket, straining for the mental and emotional distance that had been her protector for so long. It hurt so much and she couldn't even give herself permission to cry. Not after how her display of weakness had so obviously disgusted Lilith.

Sometimes it happened anyway, despite her best efforts.

Then, late Sunday afternoon, the Golden Guard paid her a visit, shoving a bowl of stewed vegetables and fangboar cheek fat in her hands and insisting on staying until she'd eaten. Having learned that indulging him was the only way to get him to leave her alone, Amity groaned and acquiesced. He wound up sitting on one of the emptied boxes, curiously eying the piles she'd been trying to sort her belongings into.

"I, uh, didn't ask how the reunion went." It wasn't quite a question.

"And I didn't tell you." It wasn't quite an answer.

But he nodded and let the subject drop with a heavy sigh. "I'm adding to your assignment. The paper magic you mentioned that girl using? I saw someone else use it myself. I know the school's interpretation of their role in getting students into the coven system is, er, unorthodox, but this doesn't feel like something they'd have learned in class. We need to learn more about what it is and where it came from."

Pausing to blow softly on a quivering jowl, Amity gave him a sharp look. "There's more than one person using an unknown form of magic and you didn't bother to say something when I told you earlier?"

She swore she could sense his smirk behind that irksome mask as he shrugged nonchalantly. "You needed time to heal. I took a little time to hit the streets again, but I didn't see anything like it. Either it hasn't spread very far, or people are hiding it.

"Either way, I want you to investigate this paper magic while you're undercover. I don't like that wild mages have a weapon that none of us have ever seen before." He hesitated before adding, "Someone could get hurt."

That actually sounded completely reasonable. It was almost disappointing not to have a reason to be more irritated at him. Amity offered a nod and resumed eating, wondering where to even begin. Her best bet was probably to track down the girl and arrest her for real this time. She'd panicked so easily that Amity bet she wouldn't stand up to even a gentle interrogation.

But what were the odds of even seeing her again?

"How do you think it works? Spells cast from paper?" she asked idly, not raising her eyes from the bowl. A small part of her brain noted that this was the first time she could remember ever being the first to break the silence, instead of saying only as much as she had to, hoping to be left alone.

But as much as she loathed the Golden Guard, Amity suddenly wasn't sure she wanted to be alone. To her surprise, he didn't mock her for the question, humming in thought a moment before launching into speculation that was remarkably less imbecilic than she would have expected, conjecturing that the paper might contain a charge of magic investiture which triggered changes in the environmental magi-organic gradient—

Oh my Titan, he's a nerd, she thought, and realized she was okay with that. Whatever kept him talking about things that weren't her, and not prodding at the things she never wanted to think of again.

It wasn't like she had anyone else in the world to talk to now, and no way she would ever be warm again.

Glumday began with a mild surprise while Amity picking through the pile of clothes. She'd grown a few inches and much of her old clothing no longer fit, or fit as well, so she'd had to try on several pieces just to see what even seemed like something she'd still wear. To her annoyance, some of the things which still fit reasonably well were clothes she had hated before, outfits picked out by Odalia that she had despised at the time and didn't care for any better now.

While trying on one of her old favorite tops, an odd rectangular shape pressed into her. Within the pocket, Amity discovered her library employee card and suffered another bout of... the only thing she could think to call it was injured nostalgia. Homesickness for a place which had never truly, and would never now be, her home.

Amity ran her fingers over the edges of the card, feeling a part of herself bleeding into her memories. She hadn't given the place a second thought in so long. Did any part of her still belong there?

Maybe I could look up previous incidents with the Owl Lady using their network and get an idea where she might show up next, she thought doubtfully, barely even aware that she was seeking an excuse to visit. Was her old study room still there? She certainly hadn't repaid Malphas for his trust when she left Bonesborough so abruptly, but she hadn't exactly been in a state of mind to give him prior notice. It wouldn't surprise her if, just like Blight Manor, any trace of her existence had been wiped clean from the building.

Her eyes stung and she unconsciously wiped at them, the faintest tinge of heat glowing to life in the back of her head, threatening the frigid blaze with a torrent of unacknowledged anger. I don't have to worry about what Mom thinks anymore. I don't have to worry about being punished.

I can just go.

And she resolved to do just that.

Glumday was always a hard day for Luz, and coming off her worst episode since the day she realized she could never go back to the Human Realm, it felt like school couldn't drag on any slower. She was still stuttering more than usual and she hadn't slept well enough to give her teachers the attention they deserved. That just made her feel guilty after the trouble of getting there at all.

Eda hadn't wanted to let her go. She was, probably with some justification, afraid that the Emperor's Coven would be waiting to snatch up Luz as soon as she set foot in public again. Eda wound up flying Luz to Willow's house and then flying overhead to keep watch as the transport worm took them to the school. She was going to be extra paranoid for awhile, though it would eventually help that none of them saw any wanted posters with Luz's face.

If it hadn't been for her friends, Luz couldn't have gotten through the day. Willow was an absolute gift from Heaven as far as she was concerned, having spent the time she should have been celebrating having gotten into third year Plants taking care of her instead. Luz already hadn't felt like she deserved someone so perfect, but after this weekend, she was so far in the hole that the best she could do was stutter out thanks and apologies and try not to dampen the mood any more than she did already.

And Viney! Viney had taken her rejection about as well as it was possible to. Maybe it had helped just how much Luz regretted doing it. She liked the healer quite well, but time had cooled her passions to a steady craving for friendship, much as those shoulders still occasionally put a spicier thought in mind. Viney said she understood, and despite obviously being a little disappointed, Luz still got a much-needed hug during lunch.

Classes blurred by in a haze of tedium and fatigue, and by the time Luz stumbled out of her last one, she was ready for a nap. Willow insisted on walking her to the library just to keep an eye on her and make sure she arrived safely, not that she had any objections about spending time with her girlfriend regardless of the motivation. Her mother would be waiting to pick her up afterward.

Thankfully, this wasn't a day where she had to read to the kids. She'd fallen behind on writing Azura short stories. There was just so much to do and not enough hours in the day to do it all. Granted, she handled this better on some days than others, and coming off a weekend like the one she'd had, her typical schedule became overwhelming.

Luz managed to get through two hours before fatigue defeated her. After spending nearly ten minutes trying to figure out why an encyclopspedia volume didn't seem to fit in the romance section, she gave up and used her card to open up the study room for a nap. Fumbling with her potion bandolier, which Eda insisted she start wearing again, Luz barely managed to unbuckle and set it aside before she flopped down on her pillow.

Why did I ever think I could do this? Amity thought, trying not to squirm. It had been a long time since her face had been bare in public, and even longer still since she wore something which bared her midriff. It felt like everyone was looking at her. A few actually were, and she was so flustered that the least violent response she could come up with was a rude gesture.

Surely this was the Golden Guard's fault for coming up with the idea in the first place. He should've known better! What kind of nitwit looked at her and decided undercover espionage would be her forte?

But, well... she had it in her head now that she wanted to go to the library. At least it would be warmer there. What had she been thinking when she came up with this outfit? It was one of her old Hexside tops and a pink skirt that was a lot shorter than she remembered, and the only consideration she'd made for the weather was throwing on the only jacket she'd been able to find amid the clothes Odalia had left her.

A spiked wristband covered her sigil. She prayed it would be enough.

The jacket did little to help with the cool evening breeze and it felt like every step was flashing far more leg than she ever had in her entire life, which wasn't even true if she considered some of Boscha's 'hellion rampages.' Now there was a name she hadn't thought of in a long time either. Just thinking of the three-eyed witch put a sour taste in Amity's mouth. She had no idea what she'd do if and when she encountered her again. What would she even say?

Was it worth apologizing for freaking out about the rejection when it wasn't like either of them felt anything for each other? Amity had been so desperate for someone to reassure her that someone, anyone cared for her as the mess that she was, and the witch had been the closest body offering her any kind of protection and comfort. She knew now that pushing herself on Boscha had been an egregious overstep of her boundaries. It and everything which followed had been her own fault...

Troubled by these thoughts, she barely noticed how her feet had carried her to the library entrance. This place, at least, still towered imposingly. She shivered, hesitating to go in, feeling oddly exposed in both senses of the word — both naked without her robes and armoring, and so obviously an intruder in this place which she had once thought of as her only shelter in the world. Surely everyone could tell what she was at a glance. Why had she felt it was important to look as much like her old self as possible?

Get a hold of yourself, Lieutenant Blight, she ordered herself. Regardless of how you're dressed, this is a mission. Even if it's also... something else. Squaring her shoulders, she pushed the door open and the air swirled as air pressure equalized, forcing her to grip her skirt to keep it from doing anything embarrassing. That was the only reason she was clutching the fabric so tightly as she stepped inside and let it swing closed. Really.

Sights and scents assailed her. The delicious aroma of old paper filled the air, muting everything else. As the door settled into its frame, the sounds of the outside were hushed as well. Warm, soothing colors covered almost every surface, with the cool tones mostly reserved for the shiny tiled flooring. Footsteps clicked irregularly, the echoes absorbed by the shelves and their contents. The librarian at the front desk barely looked at her, and with some trepidation, she strode past him and hoped he didn't recognize her.

He'd been working there when she worked there. The whole library seemed like it had been frozen in time in a way nothing else did. There was no real reason for it to be substantially different, she supposed, but somehow Amity didn't expect it to be so instantly familiar all over again. Perhaps it was because of the shelves; reaching almost to the ceiling, they towered over her just as much as they had before, despite her growth.

She even recognized some of the patrons, though that was the least surprising revelation. Bonesborough was a pretty remote city and it hadn't been that long since she'd left it. Most of the people in her grade wouldn't even have graduated yet. Most of them were absorbed in whatever they were reading, many with homework laid out around themselves. Some few glanced up at her, eyes following her curiously. Amity sucked in a breath and tried not to let it deter her. She'd have to interact with people sooner or later.

An ironic thought, given this was the place she used to go so she didn't have to interact with people. That reminded her of the secret room Malphas had made. Did she dare hope it still existed? He'd probably either removed it or given it to someone else by now, she thought, but morbid curiosity drove her to the Romance section.

The books on the shelving which concealed the hidden door made her smile ruefully, utterly unconscious of the expression, one of the first of the sort she had made in years. Once, a very, very long time ago, she and Willow had perused these books together, giggling at the lurid descriptions of... holding hands and kissing. Well, they'd seemed especially naughty at seven years old. She could remember being curious what kissing someone felt like, but the furthest she'd ever come to reenacting a young adult romance novel was holding hands and pretending it was for perfectly innocent reasons.

That same hand prickled and she gave it a distracted shake, engrossed in searching the shelves for a particular volume. Malphas had woven a circuit into the shelves so that removing one special book and then immediately replacing it would cause the shelf to slide inward and reveal the secret little chamber. It used to be on the far right of the middle row, just before the end.

It wasn't there.

Of course he removed it after I left. She had just begun to reprimand herself for even considering otherwise when she abruptly spotted it on the second shelf from the top. Surely it had just been moved because it was no longer part of the circuit, she thought, but couldn't help hesitantly reaching up to try it. Her fingers closed upon The Lone Witch & Secret Room and slid it from its recess, then pushed it back in firmly.

The shelf clicked — and a secret panel slid open beside the book, revealing one of the library's magical locks. This was new! Was there any chance the room had been kept preserved in case she returned? Or... did it have a new owner, who wanted more security than the room had previously offered?

Her card could theoretically open any lock in the building, including that of the Forbidden Stacks, a thought which would need revisiting if she ever decided it was necessary to subject the library to a surprise inspection. For now, feeling almost sick with nerves, she doubtfully pressed her card up against the lock. It immediately emanated a lilac-hued glow, echoed by a fiery orange glow surrounding the entire shelf. Both dissipated quickly as the shelf silently recessed and slid into its secret niche.

Her study was still there, but it looked like someone had been using it after all. A miniature potion lab occupied much of the table, and a brand new mug sat beside a stack of books. The enchanted candle she'd used for extra light was gone, leaving the glow-in-the-dark astronomy pieces she'd scavenged from the market when she was young as the sole source of light.

Amity knew she shouldn't go inside—it clearly wasn't her space any longer—but it felt like someone had reached into her chest and was pulling her forward by the heart. The moment she stepped past the threshold, the shelves slid back into place with barely a whisper and the soft bubble of the library cut off. The room was silent, almost unnervingly so, and in a way that she had only ever experienced when using a secure communication room. Was the new owner of the study so sensitive to noise and distractions?

She was about to find out. A soft sound, the only sound in the room, drew her attention to the side before she could see much more of how it had changed in her absence. Curled just to the side of the entryway was a sleeping witch, face-down in one of Amity's old pillows. The wan illumination obscured her features, but this was all the confirmation Amity needed to know she was intruding. She turned to leave, only to remember the shelf had slid shut — and she couldn't see how to get it back open.

Grimacing, the witch pushed and prodded at the shelf, trying to figure out how to engage the mechanism from the other side. Did it perhaps need to be opened with a card again? If so, then she needed to find the lock, which was easier said than done when she could barely see.

She was moving as quietly as she could, but her foot brushed something unseen on the floor near the entrance. Glass touched glass with a soft clink and she froze, the sound disconcertingly loud in the enclosed, magically warded space. Amity held her breath, daring to hope the witch was too deeply asleep to hear it.

Naturally, that meant she immediately stirred with a muffled groan because the Titan seemed to despise his devoted followers most of all. Biting her tongue, Amity cringed backward and watched as the girl slowly turned over, stretched, and— flopped back with a whispered sigh, seeking a more comfortable position.

Thank Titan. The witch slowly let out a breath, continuing to watch for the tell-tale signs of deeper slumber. As her eyes adjusted, she could pick out vague details about her person. That cowl was probably the same as the library staff, and beneath it appeared to be a Hexside uniform, though there was something odd about the coloration of the leggings. The pale orange and purple glow didn't provide enough proper light to see what color they were, but it almost looked like there were several colors on each leg.

Reports were that Hexside had been stretching what they could get away with, letting students enroll in multiple tracks as long as they eventually picked a single coven to graduate into. Could this student really be enrolled in... as many as four tracks? Who would spread out their focus so much?

Curiosity impelled her to creep closer, knowing she shouldn't. Who was this person who had taken her place? Even the guess that she was a girl was only that, a guess, though one Amity would stand by as the hunger for answers steadily built up and she risked stepping around the bundle of leather and glass on the floor. Something crinkled beneath her foot as she shifted her weight forward, holding her breath. If only she dared a tiny little Light spell so she could see her face—

Paper whispered beneath her foot and then went silent as the darkness warmed, took on texture and began to recede. An orb of light the size of her fingernail drifted up from the vicinity of the floor, emitting pale illumination and lighting the face of the young woman on the floor. Amity's mouth dropped open in shock and disbelief as the little gleaming ball lazily rose a few inches higher and began to inch forward, giving the witch exactly what she'd wanted. The pale glow fell upon a worry-creased brow.

It was the witch from before.

And now she was waking up.

Luz was a deep sleeper. It was a double-edged trait when it came to survival, letting her escape the misery and illness and hunger while leaving her vulnerable. It had nearly been her downfall, once, but she had never managed to break the habit.

But the room was dark and quiet. Any unusual stimuli stood out, whether it was a person creeping around or even the smallest of lights. Coming awake slowly, not yet comprehending where she was or why the presence of another person was unusual, Luz let out a yawn and groped for a Light glyph. She always left one handy for when she woke up in case one of her nightmares reared its ugly head.

Her hand fell upon a boot. One which quickly pulled out from beneath her fingers as its owner let out an undignified yelp. Had Eda snuck into her room while she was sleeping?

"Mooom, why?" she mumbled semi-coherently, prying open her eyes. There was a light hovering not nearly far enough from her face. She pawed at it, squinting blearily as her surroundings slowly came into focus. Nice cozy room, glow-in-the-dark stars and planets and all, and Eda was huddled on the far wall, eyes gleaming catlike in the gloom. It was always a little unnerving when she saw witcheline eyes reflect the light like that, but what was Eda doing in the dar—

This wasn't her bedroom, and that wasn't Eda staring at her. Sitting upright with a gasp, Luz pulled out a fresh Light glyph and conjured a trio of stronger lights, filling the little room with strong illumination. The young woman across from her yelped in surprise, raising a finger to draw a circle, and Luz demonstrated those powerful survival instincts of hers by freezing with her mouth open in shock.

Her half-awake brain took in smooth, pale features, an outfit that would have turned her head on even her very worst day, a black jacket that fried her very last functioning brain cell, and a waterfall of unruly green hair spilling over the shoulders of its owner. What came out of her mouth was perhaps the most ridiculous thing she had ever said, and this was coming from a person who had menaced her fuzzy little brother by pretending to be a mud demon.

"Azura!?"

Amity stared at her.

And then she stared some more.

And then, because this was the most absurd thing that had ever happened to her in her entire life, she laughed. It was just a little chuckle, but when was the last time she had laughed without mockery or scorn? At anything?

It was with Willow, a quiet part of her brain suggested. She didn't want to do the math to figure out how long ago that was.

Her laughter made the girl stop and blush, and that was even more ridiculous, but she had to bite back the giggles. She didn't want to, but her throat was already starting to sting again. Speaking was bad enough, but laughter? Her larynx hadn't made that sound in forever...

"Wait, no, I kn-know who you are!" the girl exclaimed, and just like that, her laughter died and her hackles went back up, but nothing in the strange witch's posture indicated hostility. No, now it was this bizarre witch's turn to creep closer, as if Amity were a frightened kitten she was trying not to spook.

"Y-you're AB," she breathed.

Flummoxed anew, all Amity could say was, "Excuse me?"

The girl came even closer, her eyes wide in the magical light, shining like little brown gemstones behind cages of glass. Her demeanor was so childlike that it was hard to remember that this witch had attacked her just days ago, albeit with a lot of provocation. "I'm s-sorry, I... never actually l-learned your name. This was your room before I came here, wasn't it? I got your name off the f-fanart you left in the Azura books. I've never actually met another Azura fan..."

The books. Her Azura books. They hadn't been in her room; she had brought them here for safe-keeping because she knew her mother would have destroyed them otherwise! How had she possibly forgotten? She'd been bringing them to the library to donate them the very day she met Malphas, and that was the same day he had made this room for her. Her refuge. Her books had been here, safe and sound, all these years.

Even now she could see them on the shelf, the one with the plate which read My Favorite Books, and on that same shelf was her old mug, cracked through and glued together and hidden here because Odalia finding a broken mug would have meant a month of punishment, and her other pillow was in the corner along with her slippers which surely wouldn't even fit her feet anymore, and—

Malphas and this wild witch had kept all of her belongings safe, not even removing them from the room, just in case a day like today happened. None of them had any idea what she had become. How broken she was. How evil.

"I've never met anyone who liked Azura, either," she mumbled numbly, her gaze sweeping over the shelves in a daze. Something seemed off about the books, but she couldn't quite put her finger on how, exactly. Had they been rearranged?

The girl grinned widely, showing off fangs which barely seemed to fit her mouth properly. It was a very—

(... cute)

—quirky smile, but so free and unreserved that Amity had to keep reminding herself that this wasn't a pleasant social encounter. If anything, she should likely arrest the young woman and bring her in so they could find out where she'd gotten this peculiar magic from, especially now that she knew there was more of it.

But why use paper for a Light spell, something even a child could do?

"Well, now y-you have, and I'm trying to fix that problem. I'm Luz Noceda-Clawthorne! Oh, Titan, I c-can't believe I'm really meeting you!" The girl stuck out her hand and, finding herself fixated on the offered appendage, Amity slowly reached out and put her own in it. Luz's hand was very warm. Was that because she was so energetic, or was Amity's so cold by comparison?

And then her mind played back that introduction and her innards turned to ice.

Noceda-Clawthorne.

Something was dearly wrong with this poor girl, Luz thought. Despite being dressed like an absolute baddie, her eyes and body language communicated something far more skittish. Everything about her screamed flight-or-fight. Was she nervous after seeing Luz's glyph magic? She was barely even looking at the lights, so that didn't seem likely. What else could it be? Was she spooked by the entryway having closed on her? She didn't seem to be that eager to get away, just... afraid.

Nonetheless, the witch finally put her hand in Luz's. It was so cold! Luz had to resist the urge to wrap her hands around it and try to warm it up. Wetting her lips, yellow eyes darting everywhere, she blurted out a name. "Amity Bl— ... just Amity."

Amity. Titan, that was a cute name. She felt almost bad for thinking so, suspecting this frightened young lady probably wouldn't appreciate it. There was clearly something to do with that last name, too, but the witch was already looking away, tucking her hand under her jacket like she was trying to hide it.

"Well, Amity—" She tried to modulate her voice to something softer, like the witch's own level of volume. Doing so seemed to help her stutter, oddly enough. "I'm actually trying to get the kids into the Azura books too, during our reading hours. I th-thought it might be a bit much to just read straight from the books, so I'm taking parts of them and turning them into stories I can tell in about an hour, and they really seem to like it so far."

"Oh," said Amity faintly, seeming completely befuddled by the idea. Her yellow-eyed gaze made its way back to her and then darted away again. Luz's heart clenched.

I can't do it. I can't pretend not to see anything.

"Amity..." No doubt about it; the witch was avoiding her gaze. Luz took a breath. "Are you okay?"

No. I've never been okay. I don't even know what okay looks like.

But she couldn't say that, certainly not to this girl who was, she was almost certain, related to the Owl Lady herself. A more socially adept witch might have played on Luz's sympathy to get her to confirm it. Titan, she could have easily asked about the way she'd cast Light using nothing but a piece of paper. All the opportunities were right there for the taking.

But she couldn't do it. Amity was paralyzed. She didn't know what she wanted. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what she wanted to do. Every word out of this Luz's mouth painted her as a strangely compassionate creature the likes of which Amity hadn't seen since the day she broke her best friend's heart and buried her own.

"Is it because I still can't do magic? Amity, I'm— I'm sorry I got us in trouble at the beach, I just— I can't get the spells right."

"Well, yes, that—that is why! Because you're a weakling! You can't do magic, so I don't wanna be your friend. Now go!"

The witch's face floated behind her eyes, tears in her eyes, fangs bared, not in aggression, but because it hurt so badly. Amity had hurt her, and then she had hurt her again and again as the years went by and she let herself grow cold, satisfying her mother's demands one tiny piece of her soul at a time.

And then she had hurt so many others.

She had broken the bonds between witches and palismen.

She had broken spirits and wills and trampled freedoms underfoot.

She hadn't even cared about the Titan's will. Everything she did was in order to justify existing. To feel like she had some sort of value to someone.

She didn't deserve anything better. She didn't deserve compassion.

The last time someone had shown her such softness, she had ruined her life. And she was already preparing to ruin this witch's as well, wasn't she? To arrest her and have her imprisoned, possibly even tortured if she refused to give up her secrets, and then she'd use her to get at Edalyn Clawthorne.

Because it was her job. Because it was the only way she knew how to belong in this world, especially now with her mother having cast her out.

This— this was all his fault. The Golden Guard's. If he'd just kept his distance the way a commanding officer should, she wouldn't be feeling this way. She wouldn't hurt so much. She—

She wouldn't be crying.

Amity didn't answer, but Luz's words seemed to set something in motion. The witch was shaking softly and trying to hide it. She wet her lips, trying to speak, and all that emerged was a sound the likes of which Luz had never heard in her life, a keening whine ending in a hiccup as the witch tried desperately to hold it in.

And then she dropped to her knees and began to sob, trembling arms raised to ward off any offer of comfort.

"I knew she'd been having problems at home," Malphas had said. Amity had worked here until disappearing the night of the Fear Bringer's return.

Grom had done something to her when it broke loose from the school that exacerbated the issues she already had; there was no other explanation. The question was, what could Luz do about psychic trauma inflicted years ago?

Well, what had she ever done? She could care.

Something oddly soft and heavy touched her knees. Amity jerked back in surprise, not getting very far considering her position, but it was— it was one of her pillows. Not the one Luz had been sleeping on; the one she used to curl up against to read, sipping from her mug, being so careful not to spill even a drop on the circular rug...

Luz had brought it over to her, smiling faintly.

For a singular, terrible instant, Amity had an urge to tell Luz exactly what she was. Exactly what she would do when she continued on this course. The breath was already in her lungs; all she had to do was let go and reveal herself to be the monster she was.

She picked up the pillow and buried her face in it instead, hugging it to her chest.

I can't do this. I can't. I can't pretend to be something I'm not.

She'd repudiate her just like she had Willow, get herself home, and scrub this entire idea of going undercover from her mind. It had been a terrible plan and she never should have agreed to it.

A motion to her side made her flinch again, but it was just Luz sitting down next to her. The gesture was still unwelcome, but at least it wasn't an ambush. How did she keep losing track of where Luz was standing? If the witch actually intended her any harm, she could have killed her several times over by this point. Normally Amity could at least feel the buzz of another person nearby, if not exactly where they were, but her concentration was so frayed that it was like Luz was invisible to her senses.

The sobs were starting to ease off. Amity cast the girl a sidelong look, peering out from behind the pillow, only to find that Luz wasn't even looking at her now. Amity drew in a ragged breath, searching for the words to excuse herself. She hadn't had such a hard time forcing herself to speak since— well, since Odalia had forced her to learn.

"You know..." Luz broke the silence before she had a chance to. "I actually... ran away from home when I was eleven years old."

Amity blinked a little, drawing in an unsteady breath. "I'm sorry?" she whispered, uncertain if she was asking for more clarity or apologizing for the circumstances. Luz wasn't even looking at her at all, head bowed slightly.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," Luz said with a faint snort of self-depreciatory amusement. "I shouldn't dump that on you right now, I just— thought maybe it would help if you knew I understand.

"I might be completely wrong about this, and if I am, feel free to tell me to stop, but— you ran away from home, didn't you? After Grom?"

The witch gasped softly. Luz snuck a peek at her and bit her lip. Either she was right or close enough to strike a nerve.

"How do you know that?" Amity whispered hoarsely, briefly meeting her gaze.

Luz offered her another small smile. "Malphas didn't say much about you, but I've spent the last—" She paused and counted months off her fingers. "Seven months, gosh, it's getting on a year now. The last seven months learning about this place. I know Grom hurt a lot of people. You were one of them, weren't you? It took the things you had going on at home and made you see something—"

"Stop," Amity pleaded, and of course she did. The witch shuddered and buried her face into the pillow again. "I don't— I don't—"

Luz wanted to hug her so badly, but the witch's body language had never left that fight-or-flight state of tension, trembling with so much repressed emotion that her shoulders hurt just watching her. She just knew that if she touched her, Amity would tear her own way out of this place. She'd seen this before with people like herself, the ones who broke.

I must have looked a lot like this when I first came here, she thought and said a silent thank-you to Eda for insisting on taking care of her at the time.

"I know you're scared, and hurting, and maybe you think that's all you deserve and there's nothing else in the world," Luz offered when the witch didn't continue. "But I promise you this, Amity: even if you had no other home in the world, this room is still a place for you."

Amity flinched and turned her head slightly. Luz caught a glimpse of yellow glinting through a curtain of that beautiful green hair. She offered her a hopeful smile, extending a metaphorical hand. "I didn't have a home for five years; I was not about to take this one from you. I tried to keep the room as close to how you left it as I could, just in case you came back.

"I've actually—" She hesitated to admit this, but it seemed to feel right at the moment. "—heck, I talked to you sometimes, like you were really here. Tried to be nice to the person I imagined you'd be. I always felt like I was just sharing this space, waiting for someone who might need it again someday..."

Those yellow eyes slid away from hers.

A home.

A single room wasn't a home, was it? What even was a home?

It wasn't comfort. She'd slept on stone floors, in the wilderness, in trees, in swamps, on mountains. She'd found ways to survive in the harshest conditions, because survival meant one more day where she was with people—or could get back to people—who welcomed her into their collective.

She hadn't been happy, but she hadn't been much of anything. That emotional numbness engulfed her, left her consumed by the hollow feeling of just enduring existence and waiting for it to end. Her only reprieve had been knowing there was always someone waiting for her to return. If there was anything the Emperor's Coven had provided her, it was that feeling of belonging. She'd never truly felt it anywhere else she was supposed to be. Not in Blight Manor, not in Hexside.

But there were times when she had felt it in the library, when she was studying at the table in this room, reading a book, or reading to the children.

And Luz was saying that she had considered this a space for her all this time? Without even knowing her?

Amity didn't know how to be happy. She'd forgotten how when she burned everything to do with her friendship with Willow. Now it seemed like the Titan was determined to dangle those forgotten feelings in front of her, as if she had any right to reach out and take them.

She hadn't when Lilith treated her hair, the words she wanted to say proving too enormous to vocalize. A distant mentor figure, both so much like, and completely different from, the woman who had birthed her.

She hadn't when the Golden Guard teased her, feeling so, so much like her siblings who hadn't seemed to care if she lived or died. Could things have been different if she'd told them what she was going through? Told them how much she needed somebody?

This was her third opportunity, and after everything, the walls she'd built up, the distance she put between herself and the world, the callouses on her heart to stave off the feelings which could only hurt—

What if this was her last chance?

"I—"

She didn't know how to ask.

Luz bit her lip and immediately tasted something metallic. The witch had begun to speak and then gone silent again, turning her head the other direction entirely. She looked so defeated. What was keeping her from saying something? To say she didn't need the help, if that was the case?

There was only one thing left that Luz could offer.

"I didn't know how to ask for help when I first got here," she murmured. "People just kind of gave it to me. But I feel like if I tried to force help on you, bad things would happen. So... how about this, instead?" The witch didn't move, so she cleared her throat huskily and made her pitch.

"I'm here six days a week for at least a couple of hours. You let yourself in, so I gotta assume you can do it again whether I'm here or not. Well, this is your place, so I want you to do just that."

Still no response. She continued on, blithely not even thinking about how a stranger's presence in the room defeated the point of all the security measures designed to let her do an illegal job within these walls.

"If you're here when I arrive, I'll just let you be, unless you need something from me. But if you ever need something, I would be very happy that you trusted a stranger enough to ask for it. Okay?" she pressed, hoping for some sort of response.

Did those shoulders twitch, or was it just her imagination?

"But I'm hoping, someday, that we could be more than strangers," she finished and found herself almost breathless. Had she really not remembered to breathe at all while saying that?

Still silence... and then the smallest of nods.

Amity couldn't do it. She knew there was no place in her life for anyone outside the Emperor's Coven, but this girl, this bizarrely empathic creature, wasn't letting up.

And she knew things Amity needed to know as well. As much as it hurt, she had to pursue those leads.

So she nodded, hating herself for being so weak and hating the entire situation for putting her in this conundrum.

She heard, more than sensed, the girl get back up and move across the room, entering the corner of her vision. There was an odd sound, a soft wooden clatter of something being moved on the shelves, followed by the rustle of fabric as she knelt and placed something in front of her.

"In the meantime, maybe you'd like to borrow this?" came Luz's voice, and reluctantly, she lowered the pillow and peered over the top.

It was The Good Witch Azura 5. Azura and Hecate stood opposite each other on the cover, both with a hand on Azura's staff, raising it skyward in a stylized flare of light.

She hadn't even known there was a fifth book.

"I noticed you only had up to four," the girl said with that same unbearably sweet smile, and despite everything, despite her miserable failure and the wrenching pain, this was— this was something good, wasn't it? To find that her favorite books had not only survived, there was a new one for her to read, to escape into the pages the same way she used to when life was so unbearable.?

Did Luz have the slightest idea what she was doing to her? Or, like the Golden Guard, was she just determined to get something out of her?

"I—" A dizzying number of emotions pulled at her. She'd looked for a fifth book for over a year before her life went to ruin. Picking the book up, she resisted the urge to crush it to her chest. Amity knew she ought to at least express gratitude, but the words caught in her throat, strained by crying and so much tension.

And, somehow, the girl heard it anyway. "You're very welcome. If there's nothing you need to ask from me right now, is it all right if I go? Mom's probably worried sick with how long I've been gone."

If there was, Amity never would have been able to give voice to it anyway. She just shook her head, burning the image of the cover into her vision so she didn't have to risk looking up at the witch.

"Okay then," Luz said cheerfully as if she'd said something after all. "When you want to leave, just give the shelf a good push and it'll open up again." She paused and then added, "Don't pay any m-mind if you hear a bump at some point. I do some... other book work for the library. Okay? See ya, Amity."

The shelves clicked and the faint murmur of the library proper suddenly hummed from the entryway, the library's lighting shining into the room. The girl was really leaving, trusting her in this space which was also partially her own.

And Amity continued to say nothing. The enormity of words had defeated her in spite of all the harsh lessons Odalia had tried to impart on her. She had been teased, taunted, abandoned, found, and welcomed all in one day, and she was too weak to do anything but accept it and try not to think about what the future would hold.

A sound emerged from her throat.

As if she'd been waiting for just that, Luz paused with her hand on the shelf. "Yes?"

She had to say something. If being among people without the protection of her faceless, anonymous authority was going to be this hard, then the last thing she wanted was to encounter more of them. What if next time, it wasn't this incomprehensibly nice, self-destructively soft girl, but someone like Boscha?

Or Willow?

"Don't tell anyone I'm here?" she pleaded in a voice that would have made Lilith scoff. This was hardly the bearing of a superior officer! Not that being recognized as one would end well.

That smile didn't belong in a world like this. How hadn't this girl been broken of so much kindness? "Okay," she promised. "But you should at least tell Malphas you're back. He really worried about you."

And then Luz was gone, but somehow Amity didn't think she'd seen the last of her.

The question was: was she looking forward to that or not?