She had a scar at the center of her throat. Same as the Suuke.

“What the fuck just happened? I had the craziest dream that that goddamn monster got me.”

Calliope, laugh-crying, threw herself, babies and all, at Amy. “You’re alive.”

“Bet your ass I’m alive, momma.” She looked down. “Hey, where’d these little cabbage patches come from?”

* * * *

The others were gathering at the truck as the raindrops fell fatter and wetter. Calliope handed Mara the babies. “I’ll be right there.”

“You’re getting soaked, honey.”

“I just have to say goodbye.”

Mara nodded.

Calliope walked back toward the mesa. The only rock standing in the canyon. The flat-topped mountain rock jutting up from the canyon. The mesa was not ruined.

Was Chance staring at the same? Their maps linked, side by side. Close enough to touch.

Bisabuela’s voice shifted the wind.

If Calliope had known what would happen, would she have stayed?

She could have saved Susana. Could have brought her back to Reina.

And Buick. She’d left his body. She hadn’t waited long enough to find out if either he or Susana had transformed. Were they waiting, in another world, for someone to carry them home?

Cicadas buzzing, Bisabuela’s voice in her ear. Don’t ever worry the stories are not real, mija. You are the stories. She was the motherwoman who gave birth to twins, one a rock, to travel through worlds—who carried the key between cosmos in her very belly. Si no puedes creer, entonces recuerda.

Remember. She’d helped create those cosmos. The stories were messages to other times, other worlds—the stories were messages home.

Calliope was a message home.

She grasped the Coyote around her neck, the cottonwood Chance had carved for her. It was smooth and cold. She looked down. It had turned to stone.

* * * *

As daylight dimmed and streetlights gleamed, the women pulled into Calliope’s driveway. Amy had caught a bus down to Cruces. Dr. Toya had already made her way to Sky City.

“That was quite an adventure, wasn’t it?” Mara said, setting the truck in park.

Calliope chuckled wryly. “Sure was.”

“You know, hun, I saw the Lizard’s Tail three times. First, with Chaiwa up in Los Alamos when I was a girl and that damned bomb in the sand set everything reeling. Then twice I’ve walked through worlds myself—with you.”

Calliope smiled and hugged Mara, said, “Go find my Tía. Tell her I’ll be down there soon.”

Calliope met Eunjoo on the side of the truck. “I couldn’t have done this without you, chica. You know that. You and Coyote.”

She kissed the top of Eunjoo’s head, her black braids shining under the streetlamp.

“You’re a good mama, Phoenix’s mama.”

Calliope nodded, tears prickling again. “Go home now, Coyote girl.”