“Sure. Like that.”

“Did the Guardians put them in place?” I asked.

“Yeah. I think it was a two-birds-one-stone kind of deal. Regulate the ley lines as Chicago’s human population increased to make everyone safer.”

“Because less powerful ley lines meant less powerful supernaturals?” I asked.

“I think that was the theory, yeah.”

“And one of the Cornerstones powers your machine?” Theo asked.

Hugo nodded.

“How many Cornerstones are there?”

“I don’t know.”

Petra sighed. “And I guess you don’t know where they are?”

“Well, no. I mean, I don’t know where all of them are. I know where mine is. You want to go see it?”

* * *

We did. We did want to go see it.

But first, we made Hugo eat and hydrate.

When he was steadier, we let him join us in the van, and Petra drove while he directed us to a short, squat building only half a block from the warehouse.

“Damn,” he said as we passed the damage Rosantine had done. “She’s really here, and it really activated.”

“Yeah,” Theo said. “Plenty of footage online if you want to see it.”

“Yeah. When I’m ready, I probably will.” He tapped his head. “I’m still kind of processing, you know?”

To have been the guardian of nearly two centuries of history and out of commission for the two hours the history happened had to be a punch.

We parked on the street and followed him around the building, all of us watching for Rosantine. She’d been looking for something in this neighborhood. Why not this?

“Insurance agency rents out the main building,” he said. “They’re good tenants.” He walked to an unassuming shed, maybe a few yards from the main building, pushed against a concrete wall that separated this lot from the one behind it.

“It’s in here,” he said. “We’ve replaced the shed a few times over the years, but this one’s been in place since my grandpa put it in. I added a few layers of security, though.”

He used a key to open a small box by the door, then pressed his thumbprint against a small screen inside it. He pulled out his personal screen, then entered a code there. “Triple authentication,” he said when whirring began to sound within the shed. The doors popped open, revealing a steel layer inside the wooden shell. A light flickered on, sending cool blue light across the only object inside it.

It was . . . a rock.

A big rock, sure, of a dotted stone I guessed was granite. The edges were rounded, and there were symbols etched into the surface that looked like the same language we’d seen on the machine. It sat on the dark earth, as it apparently had for nearly two centuries. And that was it.

Yeah, it was called a “Cornerstone,” but I guess I’d expected something more ornamental. Or larger. Or studded with crystals. I’d also have expected a giant magical rock to put some residual magic in the air. But there was nothing. It felt completely inert, and if Hugo hadn’t told me its purpose, I’d have assumed it was decorative.