My grandma used to say that the best magic tricks are performed by the ones who believe.


    It’s true. I see it all the time at Silveria Circus. The best magicians are always the ones who understand that the true magic at the heart of a trick is<i>possibility</i>.


    Maybe that’s why no one looks my way now. Because I believed in magic too.


    Abe Mead lies dead on the factory floor. That fucker. Wouldn’t mind having another shot at killing him if I could. Maybe I’d have done a few things a little differently.


    I pull my attention away from his cooling body. I don’t want him to take another second of my time.


    So I put all my focus on something beautiful instead. L and Lark. They hold each other in a crushing embrace. They sway like two trees that have twisted together and weathered storms side by side. Maybe this will be thest big one. A thunderstorm that leaves clean air and vibrant colors behind. I’d like to think the<span id="pg_380" role="doc-pagebreak" ariabel=" Page 380. ">weather will always be fair for them now, the skies always clear. I think that’s what I’ll choose to believe.


    I nce down at my shirt. There’s almost nothing to show for everything that’s happened. Just a small hole in the nnel fabric on my side, right beneath my ribs. There’s no more than a few drops of crimson to stain my shirt. A little trick. Nothing to see.


    But I can feel it.Owned by N?velDrama.Org.


    It burns<i>right there</i>, while the rest of me feels cold. No one notices when I lie down on the floor.


    L and Lark are still wrapped together when a door flies open somewhere nearby. Running footsteps echo against machines and concrete walls.


    “<i>Rose,</i>” Fionn calls out. There’s panic in his voice. He repeats my name over and over. It sounds like it’s growing more distant. Noting closer.


    It feels like the first time I flew through the metal cage on my motorcycle. The terrifying roar of the engine. The flip of my stomach when I realized I didn’t know which way was up. I just pulled back on that throttle and sped through the sphere until everything else faded away except the headlight in front of me.


    “She’s here,” Lark calls back when I don’t answer, but she sounds far away too. “Oh my God—”


    “<i>Christ Jesus.</i>Fionn, help—”


    The world doesn’t go dark. It goes bright white. In the final moment before the light washes the shadows away, I see Fionn in the distance. And I know he’s my home. My person.


    My love.


    Maybe magic is real after all.