Now that you know why Henri responded the way he did—and now that I’ve been able to take a breather following the whirlwind of a conversation we had—I’m ready to tell you about what happened between me, Henri, and Asher at the bar.

To be honest, relaying Henri’s story was kind of a relief. My head was still reeling from everything we that happened, and it was nice to take a moment to process it before throwing myself into writing about it.

But now, let’s do this thing.

After showing us the photo of Lucille, Henri leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. He didn’t say anything for a long, long time. He just stared at me, then Asher, then me again, his face unreadable. For once, I had no problem staying quiet. I wasn’t about to be the one to break the tense silence.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Henri sighed. “Ian, I’m sure you have a good reason for bringing him here. We’ll get to that. But first, you”— he pointed to Asher— “need to explain to me how, with marks like that on his neck, my nephew isn’t dead. And you better not have been the one to put them there, or I’ll kill you myself, Ian’s reason be damned.”

Asher cleared his throat, glancing at me nervously. I didn’t blame him. “No, I wasn’t. And to be honest, I’m just as confused as to how he’s alive.” He shook his head. “I saw it happen, and I tried to stop it. You have no idea how relieved—and shocked—I was when he only passed out.”

Puzzle pieces snapped into place: Asher’s relief and amazement when I’d woken after my nightmare, his and Acacia’s desire to get me away from prying eyes. I hadn’t realized just how unlikely it was that I’d woken up at all.

Add it to the list of things about me that make no sense, I guess.

Still, I found my words to defend Asher. “He’s telling the truth. Uncle Henri, Asher has saved my life multiple times now, and—”

Henri raised his eyebrows, looking back to Asher thoughtfully. “Multiple times?”

It was my turn to be nervous. Well, embarrassed might be the better word. I was pretty sure my cheeks were turning as red as the dragon flames n Henri’s fireplace. I stared at the carpet as I said, “I’m sorry, I should have told you earlier. I’ve met him in the dark forests before.”

Henri frowned, though his gaze was focused on something else far beyond the room. Maybe he was lost in his memories. It was another long pause before he spoke again, and this time was directly to Asher. “Your people live in the dark forests?”

“Yes,” said Asher. He seemed a little more confident now; I suppose Henri being calmer made the threat of being murdered by a griffin less concerning. “In a village we built ourselves. We call it Oasis.” He glanced around the room, taking it in. “This is the first time any of us have left…well, ever.”

“Not ever,” corrected Henri quietly. And then he told us everything that I’ve already relayed to you: his childhood, his wife, the tragedies he’d experienced and the actions he’d taken as a result. “I’ve regretted it ever since,” he said solemnly when recalling the exile of Asher’s kind. “An individual’s deeds do not reflect that of his people. I should not have punished all of you.” He closed his eyes, and I swear I saw a tear trail down Henri’s cheek. I’d never seen him cry before. “Until now, I believed your race to be extinct, and I considered myself the cause.”

When he finished, the silence stretched once more, deafening in its stillness. I didn’t know what to say. I’d heard about Henri’s past before, but never in as much detail as he’d just shared. I’d never heard the parts about the harbingers.

Asher was the one who broke it. His dark eyes had been wide, sorrowful, though no tears fell. I wondered if he could cry. Suddenly, he got to his feet, shoving his chair back, and in two quick steps had moved around the desk. To my surprise—and Henri’s, too, I think—Asher reached his arms around my uncle, hugging him.

“I forgive you,” he said softly, his voice barely greater than a whisper. “On behalf of my people, I forgive you. We have learned to live in the dark, and no one alive knows it any other way. We have made peace with our home. We don’t blame anyone, and we won’t start now. So I forgive you.”

I almost felt like I shouldn’t be watching; it seemed too personal. But I simply sat there, trying to hide my sniffles, as Henri hugged him back, silent tears running down his face in earnest.

After a long moment, Henri pulled back, his tears seeming to evaporate in the air as quickly as they’d appeared. He chuckled and ran a hand through his silver-flecked hair as Asher straightened. “Enough about me,” he said. “You came for a reason, and here I am, rattling on and on about my own guilt. There are more pressing matters. Let’s hear them.”

It was only as Asher collapsed back into the chair beside me, rubbing a sleeve across his eyes—maybe he had been crying—that another puzzle piece fell into place: the black gloves! Unlike the guy who’d wrapped his hands around my neck, Asher was always wearing dark gloves, and he left no ashen handprints when he touched me or Henri. Harbingers must kill by touch—well, except when they touched me, apparently. It would match up with Henri’s story, too.

I cursed myself mentally. Probably should’ve put that one together sooner, genius.

“Henri,” I started. “Asher said that his people prayed to some kind of deity, one that existed in all planes of existence simultaneously. He thinks it could help us find the murderer. Especially if the murderer jumps between dimensions.” I paused, but Asher had already jumped to the human dimension with me and let me pull him off the ledge of a skyscraper, so I didn’t have anything to lose. “Like me.”

Henri glanced sharply at Asher, then sighed at the lack of surprise on his face. “Ian has pulled you along on one his…journeys, I presume.”

Asher looked at me. “Yeah. I didn’t know anyone could exist in both dimensions without combusting.”

“They can’t,” said Henri, “except for Ian.”

“And maybe the murderer,” I pointed out. “What a fun thing to have in common.”

Henri sighed again, but this was the exasperated kind I knew all too well: the sigh I’d heard throughout my childhood that meant I’m too good a father figure to outright tell my kid to shut up, but I’m sure thinking it.

I shut up.

“An interesting idea, though,” Henri mused. “Something else believed not to exist, its details lost to time and a fading of faith. But that doesn’t mean it can’t exist.”

So he did know about the Ancient One! I wasn’t surprised. All those books in his office, all the history he’s studied in his thousands of years. Of course he must’ve heard of it.

Asher, meanwhile, was looking like an eager puppy who hears its owner’s keys in the lock. “You think the Ancient One exists?”

Uncle Henri leaned back, hands clasped, considering. “I can’t say,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve been around much longer than most, and I’ve never seen any evidence of such a being. I hadn’t even considered it a possibility for assistance. But if the Ancient One does exist, and if its legends are true…it may be exactly what we need, for more reasons than one.”

I knew what he meant: the murderer, and me. Maybe the Ancient One would have answers that could help us find who was killing inhumans and humans in cold blood, and maybe it would also know what I was. If existing in all planes was its thing, surely it must know what my deal was?

Of course, there were still a lot of steps between us deciding it could help to actually finding this Ancient One and getting said help. “Not to dampen the excitement,” I said, “but if it’s never been seen in all of history, how the hell are we going to track it down now?”

Henri smiled, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. I liked when his smile reached his eyes. “I’ve got some ideas that might help.”

He was reaching for one of the many drawers of his desk when suddenly we heard a scuffling noise directly outside the door, immediately followed by quiet cursing. Asher leapt not only to his feet, but also vertically up and onto his chair, crouching there like a scared demonic cat. I would’ve laughed, if my heart hadn’t nearly stopped in panic. Something told me that anyone else finding out about Asher wouldn’t go as well as the discussion with Henri.

But I breathed a sigh of relief when Henri opened the door with a knowing sigh, revealing none other than Milo, leaning against the wall, deliberately staring at the ceiling and whistling—aka the most suspicious-looking attempt to look non-suspicious I’d ever seen.

“I know your parents have taught you not to eavesdrop on conversations that do not concern you,” said Henri.

Luckily, Milo has spent enough time at Griffin's Edge to remain unfazed by anything me or Henri could say. “Oh, they did,” he said cheerily. “But fortunately, I haven’t listened to their advice since I was eight. That’s why I’ve turned out so well.” He stepped past Henri, wandering into the room as casually as if he’d been invited. “Ian! Lovely to see that you’re alive. Not as big a fan of the new neck tattoo.” He gestured at his own neck, making a face. “And you! Charmed to make your acquaintance. Sounds like you’re quite an interesting influence.” He grabbed Asher’s gloved hands—despite Asher’s stony stare—and shook them up and down vigorously. “So am I. But I’m sure there’s room for two of us.”

I met Henri’s eyes and shrugged. He muttered something under his breath but simply closed the door, this time locking it, before heading back to his desk.

After several solid seconds of handshaking—if you could call it that—Asher pulled his hands away, looking between me and Milo pointedly with raised eyebrows. “…And you are?”

“Oh, sorry, this is Milo, my best friend,” I explained at the same time as Milo bowed deeply and said, “Milo, at your service!”

Asher, not unlike Uncle Henri seconds before, shook his head and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like a curse. No wonder he and Henri were getting along so well. Shared exasperation over me and Milo must be an excellent bonding experience.

“You were listening?” I asked as Milo sat on the floor between my and Asher’s chairs.

He scoffed. “No.”

I smacked him.

“Yes,” he corrected, rubbing his arm and shooting me a glare. “I saw Henri drag you and your mysterious stranger friend—still haven’t gotten your name, by the way—through the bar so fast you nearly broke the sound barrier. I figured it had to be important. I’d never heard him yell like that.” He nudged my shoulder. “Plus, you weren’t at the bar when it opened this morning. I was already worried about where you’d been.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly.

There was a pause before Asher, slowly relaxing enough to settle back onto the arm of his chair, begrudgingly said, “I’m Asher.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” said Milo. “Thanks for saving Ian’s stupid ass when I wasn’t there to do it.”

Apparently this won Asher over; he laughed out loud. Even Henri cracked a smile. “Someone had to.”

“Glad we can all bond over me being an idiot,” I said. “Really enjoying that. Anyway, didn’t you have some ideas or something, Uncle Henri? That’s a way more interesting topic.”

“Disagree,” protested Milo.

Luckily, Henri was apparently on board, because he simply chuckled and reached for the same drawer.

He still didn’t get to open it, because suddenly there was another disturbance at the door. Only this wasn’t just a scuffle outside; this time, the door burst inward with such force that one of its hinges exploded, leaving it hanging there lopsided. So much for Henri’s effort to lock his office door.

This time, I felt no relief at the newest visitor—just a panicked heart beating as frantically as a butterfly in a cage, and blood running like barely-thawed ice in my veins. I knew her: an ancient nature spirit who went by the name Sky. She was in Henri’s group of ancient friends, one of the oldest beings alive today, one of the few who had been around as long as Henri. And while I’d known her all my life, it didn’t change the fact that she was incredibly powerful, or that she currently looked incredibly pissed.

And like I’ve said before, pissing off powerful inhuman beings? Never a good idea.

As she stepped inside, winds whipped around us, blowing pages off Henri’s desk and books from his shelves. Leaves of all shades—auburn, emerald, even bubblegum pink—flew in the gusts; flowers sprung up from the carpet beneath her bare feet; water dripped from the edges of her sleeves, even though none of her clothes appeared to be wet; fire burned in her eyes.

“Henri, what is the meaning of this?” she hissed. Her voice seemed to consist of ten different layers all at once, of many rhythms and tones, together echoing in the wind. She pointed at Asher, embers sparking at the tip of her long nails. “His kind are exiled. I seem to recall you leading that effort. And now you house him in your bar without telling us?”

Henri calmly got to his feet. “You know I regret the haste of those actions. Surely it has been long enough to let our grudges dissolve. I do not mean to undermine you.”

“And yet you hurried him away from the public eye to sneak around in your office,” she snarled. I had never seen Sky so angry, and it was terrifying.

“I had good reason,” began Henri. I heard the effort in his voice, how much he was restraining himself to stay calm. “I—”

“Enough,” hissed Sky. “The punishment for leaving the dark forests was clear. Harbingers are too dangerous for our society. If the murders were a mystery before, they are no longer, now that we know his kind endure. You seem to have forgotten your place, old friend, but I have not.”

Then, before any of us could react, she had swept forward and vanished in a swirling whirlwind…and when the air settled, she was gone.

And so was Asher.

Henri cursed and drove his fist into his own desk, leaving a sizable dent in the wood. “Ridiculous. Seen so much, and yet unable to change their ways.”

Milo plucked thorns from his blue hair, wincing. “How do we find them?”

“No one can jump from here,” I said, wheels spinning in my head. “Not in the bar. Not even me—the closest gaps are on the paths out front. They must still be here somewhere. And if we hurry, we can catch them before they leave.”

I was already sprinting out the door, Milo half a step behind. “So what?” he huffed as he stumbled down the stairs after me. “The hurricane was just for dramatic effect?!”

“Something like that,” I said over my shoulder as I began to shove my way through the crowds. In the middle of the bar, I paused, glancing between the front and back doors. Though the front entrance would have made more sense—closest to the gates—some small feeling whispered to me to go out back.

I didn’t have time to second guess. Praying I was right, I skidded on my heels and made for the back door.

“Wrong way!” called Milo behind me. I ignored this and sprinted onto the patio.

For half a second, I was terrified I’d guessed wrong, allowing Sky to escape to who-knows-where with Asher. But then I saw a flash of movement by the tables in the corner: a spark of flame and a pink leaf.

Relief and adrenaline flooded through me as I crossed the patio quicker than I ever had in my life, nearly slipping on the wet concrete near the pool’s edge as I rounded the seating area. And there they were. Sky had Asher on the ground, wrapped in thick vines which seemed to be constricting, causing him to gasp for breath. A ring of fire burned around them, blocking anyone from getting inside.

Immunity to fire sure would be nice right now! Why couldn’t any of my oddities be useful? I mean, here I was, separated from Sky and Asher by dancing flames, armed with a pistol and knife that I surely couldn’t use without offending an ancient being even further.

But maybe it was worth it. After all, Asher had saved my life multiple times already.

Cursing, I was about to suck it up and fire off a shot into Sky’s chest when a hand on my shoulder pulled me back. As I began to turn, a wave of chlorinated water swept past me, rising from the pool and collapsing onto a section of the flames with a quenching hiss.

I looked back to see Milo, eyes glowing blue like sapphires behind his glasses. He let go of my arm. “Get in there!” he said. “She’s a lot stronger than I am, I can’t quell her fire for long!”

I nodded and threw myself over the puddles Milo had created. I’d barely cleared the edge when the water evaporated unnaturally fast, flames springing back up in their stead to reestablish the ring—which I now stood within.

Both Sky and Asher turned to look at me; Asher’s dark eyes were scared, while Sky’s were hardly recognizable: burning red, more like those of a demon than a nature spirit, no traces of kindness or humanity there, just anger and hatred.

“STOP!” I had to shout to be heard over the whipping winds. “HE’S NOT EVIL!”

The vines tightened; Asher’s face was turning gray as they squeezed his neck and chest. Sky simply chuckled. “Of course he is. His kind don’t know any different. They were made for death.” Her voice echoed with the memories of thousands of years.

I thought of Asher sitting casually on a tree branch, laughing; of Acacia teasing me for thinking they ate people while she put a kettle on the stove; of the other harbingers I’d seen living happily in their village. They deserved to exist just as much as anybody else. And I’ve met plenty of beings way more evil than Asher—say, that nasty vampire who tried to drain me dry when I was thirteen. No comparison.

“HE HASN’T KILLED ANYONE!” I yelled. “HE SAVED MY LIFE!”

“It’s only a matter of time,” snarled Sky. “If we let them back in, history will repeat itself. You’re too young to know any better, boy.”

My fear was suddenly overtaken by anger. All I could think of was Henri being told the same thing as he grew up, over and over, until he ran away from it. He wasn’t too young then, and I wasn’t now. Screw politeness. In one quick motion, I pulled my pistol from my belt and fired. “NO, I’M NOT!”

The shot seemed to take her by surprise; everything froze for a moment when it hit her. The flames faded to embers, the leaves blowing in the wind sat still in the air, the vines around Asher loosened.

But only for a moment.

Then Sky screamed, an awful inhuman sound, and everything resumed more intense than before. The ring of flames grew taller and hotter, scorching my skin even from several feet away, and the vines tightened around Asher so much that his eyes bulged as he lost all air.

Sky threw out an arm and a tendril of ivy followed, wrapping itself around my neck and immediately constricting, lifting me off the ground as it did. The pressure, coupled with the pain of the handprints already lingering on my skin, nearly caused me to black out.

Black spots danced across my vision as my feet dangled in the air. I tried to scrabble for the ivy around my throat with my free hand, but I couldn’t get a grip; my fingers just dug into my neck, making the pain even worse.

My thoughts were quickly dissolving into an oxygen-less blur of confusion. The edges of my vision were darkening—the smells of smoke and chlorine were overwhelming—Asher’s gasps for breaths mimicked my own—

Another screech interrupted the mess of senses, but this one sent a wave of comfort through me; it was the screech of a griffin. And there’s only one of those left in the world: my uncle.

The ivy immediately retreated, dropping me to my knees on the concrete. Gulping in air, wincing at the aching in my neck, I glanced over to see that the vines had retreated too. Asher, breathing heavily, was sitting up.

Henri, meanwhile, in his natural form, had attacked Sky. Or, at least, pinned her to the ground, talons buried in her shoulders. He screeched again in her face, twisting his talons in deeper. Asher pulled me to my feet as she grimaced, the flames and wind collapsing around us.

“I need to leave,” he said in my ear. He was right. I nodded and let him pull me away from the pool, glancing back nervously at Sky struggling under Henri. Milo appeared on my other side, keeping stride as we hurried across the patio.

When we reached the corner of the building and continued along its side—best to head straight for the paths without going through the packed bar again—I waved Asher and Milo to go on ahead. Shaking his head, Asher let go of my arm and grabbed Milo’s instead, continuing forward.

I only needed a second. I crept back, pressing myself against the wall to remain hidden, and peered around the edge to look at Henri.

He’d transformed back, though he still stood over Sky, a curved sword pointed at her heart. I’d never seen him wield it before; its blade was tinted with purple, shimmering with some internal light. And based on Sky’s face, I was pretty sure it could kill her.

Even from here, I heard her words. “Oh, Henri,” she said, managing to sound both furious, disappointed, and scared all at once—though mostly disappointed. “What would Lucille think, seeing you turn on me to save that harbinger?” She spit out the name of Asher’s race like it left a vile taste in her mouth.

Henri’s gaze flickered up to me for the briefest of moments. I don’t know how he knew I was there. But for half a second, I saw his familiar lilac eyes, and I could read there how much he cared: about me, about Milo, hell, even about Asher. Even if it destroyed his ancient friendships, he would make sure we got out of here alive—all of us.

Henri gave me the tiniest flicker of a smile, but as soon as his eyes returned to Sky, the smile vanished, yielding to hard, determined lines. “Lucy would be damn proud of me,” he growled. “And she wouldn’t approve of you trying to kill innocent teenagers.”

Sky screamed again, and fire sprung up around the pair of them once more, a taller wall than before, enough that I could no longer see either her or Henri. My heart ached to stay and help, to make sure Henri was okay in there, to hug him after it was over. But I heard his roar, saw the explosion of lilac smoke as he transformed, and knew what he would say: Go. Get Asher to safety. This is my fight now.

So with one last glance at the fire, I turned and ran after Milo and Asher into the silver fog, away from the only home and family I’d ever known.