It’s been a few months since Lonnie and Riel returned home.

  Lonnie sighs and kicks his feet where they dangle over the edge of the balcony. It’s okay, Mum and Da are in the library, working on packing up the things they won’t need for the next few weeks, preparing for the move. And honestly… Lonnie doesn’t care as much as he used to about if they might catch him here. His legs are fit between the railing, for stars’ sake. He’s as safe as can be.

  Last he checked, Riel was in their shared bedroom, reading. She’s been sleeping in the guest room, but all her stuff is still in their room. Lonnie doesn’t really like that she’s been sleeping in the other room. He doesn’t sleep as well without her there. Sometimes he gets up in the night and wanders around, and he can’t help but look in on her to make sure she’s still there. She always is. Sometimes she’s sleeping, more often, she’s not.

  The day that they ran away, Lonnie had noticed something strange. Everything was fine, Riel was being cute and a little bit strange as was the norm, and they were happy together in the courtyard, gardening. Then, she went away to get snacks and came back without them, and something had changed. Something must have happened. Something made her afraid and insecure again. Lonnie could be patient. He could always be patient with Riel. But this time, she didn’t retreat to the library or hide herself under the bed. It seemed like she was trying to be everywhere Lonnie wasn’t, and nowhere that he was. Was it Lonnie that had triggered some shift in her? That was when he had started to worry. But if she knew that he knew something was wrong… that would make her clam up even more. So Lonnie backed off. He let her have her space. He trusted that she would come to him when she was ready.

  And she did.

  Lonnie had suspected that Riel woke him up on purpose. She was afraid, and she needed to leave, but she couldn’t leave without him by her side. That must have meant that it wasn’t actually his fault, whatever the problem was. Lonnie considered trying to convince her to stay for only the tiniest second before discarding that idea. Something had seriously scared her. If he forced her to stay, Lonnie felt like something bad might happen. She needed to go, he could see it.

  As he had gotten together a few extra things that Riel might have forgotten to pack, he considered writing a note. Something to reassure his parents. But anything he thought of, he rejected. He couldn’t write anything that would actually comfort them without giving away too much information. He didn’t know how long Riel would need to stay away. He didn’t want to give his parents clues that would let them be found before Riel was ready to come back.

  Riel needed him. Mum and Da would be okay.

  “Lonnie?” a soft voice calls. A happy glow warms Lonnie’s heart. She’s here.

  He turns and pats the floor next to him. Riel sits herself by his side. She removes her shoes before pushing her legs over the edge of the balcony, too.

  Her curls are clipped back, her eyes clear. Her body is loose, a little floppy as she moves. She’s feeling good right now.

  He can hardly believe that she loves him. He still questions it—does she really? How does she know? How does Lonnie know that she’s not just attached because he’s been kind to her when no one else was? But Lonnie pushes these thoughts away. He lets them float away in the breeze. He and Riel look out over the view together. From here, they can just see over the tops of the trees. They aren’t as elevated as Finlow, no—that town is on a tall hill. But Nook is high up enough to see a fair distance. Far ahead the trees grow thinner, and the ground is pale. Whitegrass is over there, Lonnie knows. He wonders how that little girl Serra is doing, and her guardians Basia and Fio.

  He wonders how Mino is doing, up in the Overground. He prays that the stars will have compassion for her, and watch over her.

  “What are you thinking about?” Riel asks. Lonnie looks over at her.

  “I was wishing that Mino is safe,” he says.

  “Oh,” she says. Her eyes look troubled. “Me, too.”

  Lonnie slowly takes her hand. Things have changed between them, just a little. They used to hug and hold hands and even wrestle all the time, barely even thinking about it. Well—maybe thinking about it, but not letting it stop them. Now, though, every touch feels more careful. Lonnie doesn’t like feeling like he has to be more reserved around her, so he tries not to let it change how he acts. It’s difficult sometimes. Da scared him a little bit with that talk. It started out fine, but then…

  Lonnie sits at the table, watching Da’s big broad back where he stands at the stove. Lonnie feels a little on edge. Normally Da lets him help cook whenever he wants to, but today he just smiled and told Lonnie to go sit.

  He’s in trouble, isn’t he.

  Lonnie supposes it’s only fair. He ran away, didn’t tell Mum or Da where they went, took food and money. He’s probably going to get a consequence. He’s fine with that, but he wishes Da would just tell him what it is already.

  Luckily, it seems like the food doesn’t need any more attention right now, because Da is coming over to sit by him.

  “Hello, son,” Da says.

  “Hello, Da,” Lonnie replies with a sheepish grin.

  “I have to admit, I thought I knew my child fairly well,” Da says. “I didn’t expect him to run out without telling anyone for several days.”

  Lonnie looks down. “I wouldn’t have done it if she didn’t need it,” he says. Maybe he would sneak out for a few hours, sure, but only if he thought he could get away without anyone noticing. A few days? That’s emergency only.

  “I believe you,” Da replies. “Riel has had a hard life, perhaps harder than any of us can truly understand. It may be a challenge for us to help her adjust. But you don’t need to worry about any of that.”

  Da shifts in his seat. His long dark hair falls back over his shoulder. He looks back into the kitchen to make sure everything is going fine.

  “I believe that you made the right choice in going with her,” Da says. “I would like to hear a little bit more about why you didn’t ask us for help or leave a note. Even asking a neighbor or another friend for help would have let us know you were safe.”

  Lonnie thinks for a minute. “I did think about leaving a note,” he admits. “But there wasn’t very much time, and I couldn’t think of anything that would actually make you feel better about us leaving. And I didn’t want to tell anyone where we were because I thought that if someone came and found us, Riel would panic.”

  Da studies him for a moment.

  “It seems that Riel puts much of her faith and trust in you,” he sighs. “Unfortunately, that puts you in a difficult situation. I don’t want you to make irresponsible decisions purely because of her emotional state. Do you understand?”

  Lonnie’s arms tighten up a bit. “If she needs me, I’ll do anything,” he says, but Da holds a hand up.

  “I feel similarly,” Da says. “But I would like you to consider the difference between something she asks you to do, and something that she needs.”

  “She needed to go,” Lonnie insists. Why is his dad being like this?

  Da sighs again. “I do not believe that we are on the same page,” he says. Then what is he trying to say?

  Da continues: “For this line of thought, I am not concerned with what has already happened,” he says. Okay, a hypothetical. “Imagine this: Riel is distressed in a public place, and she asks you to make everyone around her leave.”

  “Riel wouldn’t do that,” Lonnie says. Da huffs, exasperated—but Lonnie thinks he’s a little amused, too.

  “Imagine,” he presses. “In that situation, you can tell that she is frightened, and she believes that this is what she needs to feel safe. Would you do what she asks and force the other people to leave?”

  Lonnie hesitates. That’s not what he would want to do, but he said he would do anything for Riel.

  It’s almost like his Da can read his mind. “If you would do anything for her, does that include going against her wishes to find a better solution to her problem? One that keeps her safe and helps her, even if it makes her a little upset or if she doesn’t understand right away? For example, pulling her away from the crowd into a quiet space, so she doesn’t feel threatened and the people who are going about their business need not be accosted.”

  He thinks he sees Da’s point. “How am I supposed to know if my idea is better?” Lonnie asks.

  “Time and practice,” Da says. “I am sure you get tired of hearing that you will understand more when you are older. The brain continues to develop and you learn new ways of thinking and understanding as you grow. And the more experience you have with judging the impact of your own actions, the easier it will get.”

  Lonnie actually doesn’t mind hearing that phrase, but he does find it hard to believe. If he can’t understand it now, even when he tries hard, he can’t really imagine what it would be like to understand it.

  “This could be a good segway,” Da says, a touch more awkwardly. “On a related note. You and Riel are quite young to be pursuing a relationship.”

  Oh stars. Lonnie takes a deep breath. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, he reminds himself. Puberty. Hormones. Boys and girls grow up. It’s normal.

  “Your mother and I are still discussing what we… how we would like to handle this situation. We will continue to talk with you and Riel about what we decide. For now, we would like to be a little bit more involved in watching over the both of you.”

  This was supposed to be a segway. How does it connect to what Da was saying before? Something about new ways of learning as you get older?

  “Sometimes children do things that they later regret,” Da says. “We would like to make it more difficult for that to be the case.”

  Something he can’t understand now, but will later. Maybe his feelings about Riel will change? That doesn’t seem right, Lonnie can’t imagine that. He doesn’t like the idea that the older version of him will disagree with what seems right right now.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “Lonnie, do you remember our more recent lessons about anatomy?”

  Lonnie’s face begins to get warmer. “How much detail are we going to talk about today,” he groans.

  Da hesitates. “Son… I ask you to refrain from some levels of physical intimacy with Riel,” he says. Lonnie nods violently. He is not ready for that. No way.

  “I understand what it is like at your age,” he says. “Do you feel that you can come to me if you have any questions?”

  Lonnie nods.

  “Truly?” Da asks.

  “I will ask you if I need something even if it’s embarrassing I can write it in a note please can we not talk about this anymore,” Lonnie blurts.

  “One more thing,” Da says. Lonnie sprawls back in his chair desperately. “New rules.”

  “New rules?” Lonnie asks, staring up at the ceiling.

  “Yes. When you and Riel are alone, no closing doors and especially no locking doors. Locked doors when you are by yourself is alright,” Da says. “And in the courtyard, don’t hide away behind the bushes for a long time. I know you like to play back there, but keep it brief.” That sounds alright. That sounds… fine, actually. Makes it harder to plan surprises, though.

  “Rules, plural?” Lonnie asks. Da chuckles.

  “No more changing clothes while Riel is in sight, and vice versa.”

  Oh. Lonnie hadn’t thought about that—Riel didn’t change in front of him often, especially not lately, but he always did without really caring. She was family, it was normal. Lonnie frowns. He guesses that now it’s a little less normal. It makes sense. She is Lonnie’s family, but it’s not the same.

  “This is not a rule, but a change nonetheless,” Da says. “Riel will be getting her own bedroom, and until that is ready, she will sleep in the guest room.”

  No. Nuh-uh. Not happening. “Seriously?” Lonnie says. “We can leave the door open at night, we do that all the time anyways, and we don’t even sleep in the same bed anymore!”

  “Your mother and I sleep too,” Da reminds him. “And we need peace of mind.”

  “You trust me!” Lonnie says.

  “A little bit less now,” Da says gently. Lonnie’s face falls. Right. Well, he can make up for that.

  “I don’t want separate bedrooms,” Lonnie says. “I sleep better when she’s there. What if she has a nightmare and she needs help?”

  “Those statements are somewhat contradictory,” Da smiles. “If she needs help in the night, she can still come to any of us, or she can self-soothe. Riel is no soggy pancake,” he teases. Lonnie shakes his head. When will that joke die?

  “I don’t want separate bedrooms,” Lonnie repeats.

  “I hear you,” Da says. “Unfortunately, this is not something your mother and I are willing to compromise on. Can you work with us?”

  Lonnie scowls, but nods.

  “Thank you,” Da says. He sniffs the air.

  “Let me check on the food.” He stands and heads over to the kitchen. Lonnie scratches at the table with a fingernail, thinking.

  “Oh! I nearly forgot,” Da says. He comes back, looking hesitant.

  “Lonnie, do not take this as permission,” he says. “But if all I have said, today and in our lessons, falls on deaf ears, I want you to be safe.” He slides a small bag across the table.

  “Not permission,” he reminds Lonnie. “I’m going to tell the others that lunch is ready."

  As Da walks away, Lonnie opens the bag, curious. He closes it immediately and shoves it in his pocket.

  Riel enters the room and he can’t even look at her. The bag burns a hole in his pocket through the entire meal.

  Lonnie shudders even thinking about it.

  He examines Riel. Her eyes are far away, lost in thought. What were they talking about? Oh—Mino. Lonnie hopes Riel isn’t thinking about the Overground.

  “What were you reading this morning?” he asks. “Anything good?” Riel doesn’t answer immediately, so he waits.

  She asks him a question about a topic she’s never brought up before. “What do you think your magic will be like?” she asks.

  His magic. Even hearing the words hurts just a little. Most kids born in the Underground start showing signs of their magic by ten years old. His twelfth birthday is in a few weeks, and Lonnie has nothing to show for it. When he was ten, Lonnie had finally started considering that he would be one of the rare few Soulless who never received magic. That held dark implications for the future, but… no one really knew how twisteds became twisteds. There were people who had lived for decades without becoming one. Lonnie had no idea how much time he had.

  He had read a story about someone in Heath who didn’t get magic until they were fourteen. Maybe Lonnie was just a late bloomer.

  “You look upset,” Riel says. Lonnie meets her eyes.

  “I was supposed to have magic by now,” he tells her, because he’ll tell her everything, even when it hurts. “I might not ever have it.”

  He can see that Riel isn’t sure how to react. She processes what he said, thumb absentmindedly rubbing back and forth over his hand.

  “If you never get magic, what will happen?” she asks, a small tremor in her voice. Lonnie won’t lie to her.

  “I might turn into a twisted,” Lonnie says. “It could take a long time. No one’s ever even seen it happen.”

  “Ever?” Riel questions. “Soulless live for a really long time. Nobody older has seen it either?”

  “There are no records,” Lonnie answers. “They suspect that there’s some kind of mechanism to it that prevents people from knowing when people they know suddenly become something else. But nobody really knows how it works.”

  “I’ve been afraid of turning into a twisted,” Riel says.

  Lonnie frowns. “Why? You’ve only been here a year, you shouldn’t even start showing signs of it for another year or two.”

  Riel squirms a little and takes her hand away. She’s ashamed. Lonnie scratches at the cloth of his pants, trying to ease the urge to comfort her physically.

  “My soul is stained,” she whispers. “Magic might reject me.”

  “Souls don’t get stained,” Lonnie says, confused.

  “You don’t know that,” Riel shoots defensively. “Like you said, people don’t know how it works.”

  Lonnie thinks about that for a moment. “Why do you think your soul is stained?”

  Riel stares at her hands. “I killed somebody,” she says.

  Lonnie knew things were bad up there.

  This, though…

  What did Riel have to go through?

  “She was on drugs,” Riel says. “I know because I heard adults talking about it. She was all jittery and she looked crazy. She attacked me and my siblings.”

  “Your siblings?” Lonnie asks, because that’s the easiest part of this to understand.

  Riel nods. “They’re all gone now,” she says. “But that lady attacked my brother and hurt him. She had a knife. She dropped it, her hands were shaky. I picked it up. He was bleeding. My sister was scared. So, I… I killed her,” she whispers again.

  Lonnie wishes Mum and Da were listening. He wishes he knew what to say. He wants to take her hand so badly. He forces himself to be patient.

  “And then I killed my siblings, too,” Riel says, and Lonnie flinches a little.

  She notices, of course she does, and shrinks into herself a little. Lonnie forces his body to relax, his voice to stay calm. “Why did you do that?” he asks.

  “The baby got sick,” she says. “Before that lady happened. There was a really bad disease going around. Babies are weak, you know. It died quickly. But my brother got sick too. So I left him behind. I just left him there. I couldn’t let either of us catch it. He didn’t have anyone to help him. He’s dead too.”

  Lonnie frowns. None of this sounds like it was Riel’s fault at all.

  “Later, I couldn’t take my sister to the junkyards,” Riel says. “It was dangerous to go through all the stuff there and there were people who would fight you over things. But one day when I came back, she was gone, and I couldn’t find her. So eventually, I came down here.”

  Lonnie takes his legs up to the balcony and turns to face Riel. He folds himself cross-legged. He sees motion from the corner of his eye. Da is standing at the door, half hidden. He’s crying silently, listening. How long has he been there? Lonnie doesn’t say anything.

  But Da steps out onto the balcony, and then Riel is on her feet, back to the railing. Her hands are gripping it tightly, she’s shaking. Lonnie stands and steps between her and Da.

  “It wasn’t her fault,” he protests. “She didn’t—”

  “I know, son,” Da says. Lonnie exhales, relieved. But still Riel shakes.

  “Riel,” Da says. “Do you understand that you are not a bad person?” Lonnie steps to the side a bit. She’s shaking her head, and his heart falls.

  “I killed people,” she insists quietly. “Good people don’t kill.”

  “It is not that simple,” Da admits. “You defended your siblings from someone who was trying to hurt them. Sometimes, when a conflict like that happens, people die. We can be thankful that neither you nor your siblings were the ones who were killed. You did not aggress her.”

  “But then—” Riel begins.

  “You did not kill your siblings,” Da says firmly. “Disease kills. You are a child. You cannot heal. You did your best to protect who you could, and to protect yourself. In an emergency, always care for yourself first. Only then will you be capable of caring for others.”

  Riel is crying, and Lonnie finally hugs her. She holds him back immediately, gripping him so tight.

  “I don’t wanna be a bad person,” Riel says.

  Da comes over and pulls them both close. “Part of growing up is learning not only the difference between right and wrong, but also, how to judge your own actions objectively,” he says. “You must forgive yourself, Riel.”

  “How?” She sobs.

  “It may take time,” Da says. “But we will be here to hold you, and to remind you that you are loved.”

  Riel nods, clinging onto them. Lonnie hopes he can squeeze all his love into her , so that she finally understands that she is okay.

  RIEL

  Later, when Riel is exhausted and quiet, she and Lonnie are cuddling together on the family room couch. Lonnie twists one of her curls around his finger, over and over. Riel almost thinks she could sleep here.

  “What kind of magic do you want?” Lonnie asks her, voice soft. Riel has thought about this a little bit… okay, a lot, since coming here. Imagining all different kinds of possibilities. What kind of things could she do? Who could she become? What magic was she more likely to get? It often seemed like the magic reflected something about the person who held it, but Riel wasn’t sure what kind of a person she was.

  But Lonnie asked, what kind of magic does she want.

  Riel’s face gets a little warm, but she answers honestly. “I would want to grow things,” she says.

  Riel looks over at the family room window. Silvy, her little silver tree, is still happy in it’s new, bigger pot. She can’t see the courtyard from here, but she thinks of all the flowers and shrubs growing there. She thinks of all the hours she’s spent with Lonnie or Alaric or even Ethel, tending to them, talking to them (sometimes, embarrassingly, in the middle of the night, singing to them).

  “I like plants,” she says.

  “I feel like Mino would have that kind of magic, too,” Lonnie says thoughtfully.

  Lonnie’s been thinking about Mino too? “Because of her flowers? She said they weren’t magic.”

  “I guess,” Lonnie replies.

  “It’s too bad she didn’t stay,” Riel says. Lonnie nods.

  “Maybe we’ll make new friends after we move,” he suggests after a moment. “And we’ll still hang out with Janos and Torin.”

  That’s true. Riel has felt even closer with the cousins after returning home, even though they can only visit sometimes.

  “I don’t think I will have growing magic,” Riel says. “I just think it would be cool.”

  “What do you think you will get, then?” Lonnie asks. Riel honestly isn’t sure.

  “Maybe something like running fast or making things disappear. Or,” she hesitates, “making pictures show up in someone’s mind or something.”

  “You have no idea,” Lonnie accurately surmises, laughing.

  Riel is reluctant to ask again, but she feels like she should. “What kind of magic would you want, Lonnie?”

  Lonnie looks at her, thinking.

  “I want big magic,” he says. “But I can’t decide.”

  “Big magic?” Riel asks. Lonnie nods, a strange light in his eyes.

  “Either I would bring the stars Underground,” he says, “or I would give everyone here a soul.”