“We should have tea and chocolate tomorrow,” Sienna said. “I will take you to the new bakery on Smith Avenue. My treat.”

“I’ll take you up on that generous offer.”

Sienna smiled.

Epilogue

The sun had risen, and the magic still held. Normally I would’ve waited till the beginning of a new wave, but this was too important.

I picked up the box, wrapped in purple velvet, with my left hand and a bag with my right, took a deep breath, and reached for the hidden connection, letting it carry me to a place at once near and impossibly far.

The scent of flowering trees washed over me. I stood on the balcony of a grand palace. Below me a breathtaking garden bloomed, trees and flowers flourishing among shallow ponds and gentle streams flowing through manmade beds. Delicate ornamental pavilions of pink and white stone dotted the greenery.

The Water Gardens. One of the wonders of the old kingdom.

“It’s been a while,” a familiar deep voice said behind me.

I turned. My grandfather strode onto the balcony, dressed in a white tunic and loose white pants. His feet were bare. His dark hair, strategically salted with grey, fell on his shoulders. He had the face of a sage, beautiful beyond human limits, yet wise and self-assured.

“I’ve been busy. But I come bearing gifts.”

“Is that my wolf in your bag?”

“What’s left of it.” I let the bag fall to the floor. The fabric vanished, revealing melted remnants of the wolf. “I broke it. I’m sorry.”

“You’re standing in front of me, so it must have done its job. Did it serve you well?”

“It saved me. Can you fix it?”

“It is only a machine,” Roland said. “Did you mourn it?”

“I did.”

Grandfather smiled. “Be careful. I will rebuild it, but the more attached you become to it, the more agency it will obtain. Such is the nature of magical constructs. There may come a time when it will become an entity with an independent will.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I offered him the bundle of velvet.

“What is this?”

“An artifact Moloch desperately wanted. I think it might be one of yours.”

Roland moved his hand. A table sprouted from the balcony’s floor. The bundle landed on it, and the velvet fell away.

He laughed. Two bottles of Corona appeared on the table, ice forming on their sides. Two matching chairs materialized by the balcony rail.

Roland picked up a beer. “Tell me everything.”

We had finished the beers by the time I was done.

“You’ve done well,” he said.

“Thank you.” Praise from Grandfather, both rare and precious.

“Would you like to know what this is?”

“Please.”

“We will need the night sky for this.”

Roland waved his hand. Sunset splashed across the sky and melted behind the horizon. Indigo flooded the sky, familiar constellations shining within its depths like diamonds. Inside of his prison, Grandfather was god.

Roland touched the box. The lid opened slowly. A gentle blue glow emanated from within and splayed out, forming glowing spiderwebs of constellations above and coastlines below. So beautiful.

“When I was fourteen years old, my tutor challenged me to make a moving map. It had to always know its user’s location and adjust with the seasons and the tides. It had to be beautiful and effortless to use.”

“You made an ancient version of GPS?”

Roland grinned. “Yes, but mine is so much more stylish. It sat forgotten among other trinkets I created, until years later, the merchants from the Middle Sea arrived. They brought delicate pottery, statues of marble, gold and copper, olive oil, perfume, and wine. We wanted to establish a persistent trade route, but they told us the sea was perilous and full of monsters. It was easy for the ships to be blown off course. So, I gifted them this map, and we traded for two centuries until no more ships came.”

That was Roland. A discarded school project that guided fleets across the Mediterranean. Just an afterthought. The ancient Greeks or their ancestors must have treasured it beyond all measure, even binding a sphinx to protect it, and he treated it as a forgotten toy that had turned up in the attic.

“I’m going to leave it here with you,” I told him.

“As you wish. I can probably make a better version of it. Yes, something smaller. More handheld.” He waved his hand, and two new bottles appeared on the table. “Will you sit with me for a while?”

“Of course I will.”

I took my shoes off and leaned back in my chair. The beer in my hand was crisp and cold, and the night sky above us was so vast.

“It will only get harder from here on out,” Roland said. “I’m afraid you will suffer.”

“Life is suffering. Why should it be different for me?”

“Because you’re my granddaughter and very precious to me. I would spare you if I could.”

“Aww. You say the sweetest things, Grandfather.”

He laughed. We clinked our beers and watched the stars glow.

Ryder Extras

The Letter

One month after the Battle of Atlanta

Order of Merciful Aid

The Citadel

Wolf Trap, VA 22182

14 Sep 2045

TRANSCRIPT FOR THE RECORD

FOR Grand Master, Angevin, Damian, 3rd Knight-Preceptor of the Order of Merciful Aid

INDIVIDUALS PRESENT: Grand Master Damian Angevin, Knight-Inquisitor Bruce Dolivo, Knight-Secretary Timothy Hanson (recording)

Subject: Battle of Atlanta /Attempted Invasion by Roland aka Nimrod of Shinar

BD [Reading]: To understand the conflict that took place in Atlanta resulting in the Battle of Atlanta in August 2045, it is helpful to consider two theories.

First, the forces of magic and technology exist in a balance. Both must be present for life to survive. The complete absence of either results in a mass extinction event, as we saw during the Lighthouse Keeper incident in Palmetto GA. Using technology or magic through means of devices and spells increases its respective potency in the world at the cost of the opposite force. So, the more spells the population uses, the stronger is the magic and the weaker is the tech and vice versa. This continues until the imbalance becomes too great and the system autocorrects. This is known as the Balance Theory.