Ash gasped.

“What?” I said, opening my eyes, startled to see that we were still sitting beside the riversea.

“I feel something,” she said. “Like . . . a smell that’s not a smell. Or a sound that’s not a sound.”

“Another sense,” I said. “Right?”

She nodded. “I can see things. Almost. They’re there, in my peripheral vision, but they move when I turn to look at them. Like I can’t ever quite catch up.”

“You’ll get there,” I said. “You’re still coming out from under the spell.”

I had done it. I conjured up an emotion, and I used it to help Ash. I’d made her stronger. And the weird thing was, I felt stronger too. More confident in my ability. Strengthening her had strengthened me.

Thunder boomed in the distance.

“Storm coming,” said a woman with a shopping cart, picking up cans from the trash, accompanied and assisted by a small flock of gremlins. “Heard about it on the radio just now.”

“Thanks,” Ash said, with a smile.

“Here,” the woman said, shuffling over, and handed us a battered old radio, the size of a book. “Found this in the garbage. Looks like hell but works fine. Full battery. Got one of my own already.”

“Thank you,” I said. She could have sold it, gotten a moon cake or two. My people were the kindest and most generous in the city. It was baffling to me, how anyone could hate or fear us.

“Solomon,” Ash said, when the woman was gone.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For . . . everything.”

“Psssh,” I said.

She took my hand and held it. “I’ve got you. I may not have anything else, but I’ve got you.”

“Likewise.”

Lightning lit up the sky.

Thirty-Five

Ash

Thunder sounded. I’d counted the time since the lightning: six seconds.

Rain began to pelt my windshield. I was parked in my driveway, savoring the silence. After our trip to Red Hook I’d dropped Solomon off under the Rip Van Winkle Bridge, at his—characteristically bizarre—request. That had been hours ago. I’d driven all the way to Albany to get more photo paper, developer, stop bath, fixer.

I sat there and watched the rain get stronger. I didn’t want to go inside. Didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wondered if in Solomon’s magical world there was a way to teleport directly into one’s bed and sleep forever. Or if somebody could put me in a coma so I’d never have to deal with humans ever again.

My phone vibrated in my hand. Unknown Number flashed on the screen.

I almost didn’t answer it. Everything would have happened so differently, if I hadn’t. But I did.

“Hello?” I said.

Static. Someone yelling in the background. Finally: “Ash?”

“Solomon!” I said. “Where are you? What number is this?”

“I wasn’t sure if I had your number right.”