“Ours was beyond quick,” Bria said. “I didn’t get to do anything either. The Soul Stealer stole my shit.”

“The battles will get harder. All the more reason for the kids to stay out of it,” Jerry said.

Mordecai growled softly.

“Yes, Fido, we know you want to fight.” Daisy patted his head and his ears flattened back. He was not happy with the treatment.

Donovan’s smile at their antics was short-lived. “The kids need to come. Daisy has to prove she can exist in a magical environment—the summit’s words, not Kieran’s. I don’t entirely disagree. They technically can’t attack her, since she’s under eighteen, but she’s expected to take part.”

I nodded, knowing all that. I’d hoped the kids could sit out the more organized fights, but that had effectively been cleared up for me. This was a sink-or-swim situation.

“I can handle myself.” Daisy patted her breasts, and I knew there was a knife hidden in her bra.

“It’s the healing issue that is the sticky wicket.” Donovan frowned, glancing down another hallway. A couple of people in office attire stood chatting, computer bags slung over their arms. We had a ways to go before we reached the battle area, clearly. I hadn’t even known part of the area was used for clerical work.

“A blood oath can be applied to a non-magical, can’t it?” Dylan asked.

“I will not be taking a blood oath,” Daisy said.

“It can, yes. But any work she’ll do in the magical world will have to be as an independent contractor.” Zorn’s arms flared with muscle. “She will never fit into our world. Nor will she ever fit into her own. Just like Lexi, she’ll always be a misfit. Unlike Lexi, though, she’ll need to stick to the shadows, to the night, like a black widow.”

“Or a bat.” Thane gave her a small shove.

“What about a raccoon? Or a skunk?” Boman grinned. “Her breath some mornings…”

“A varmint, definitely. Some kind of varmint,” Henry said, as though considering it carefully.

The only one who didn’t crack a smile was Zorn, whose face was as serious and resolute as always. Daisy currently matched him.

“Let’s veer right for Jerry to grab some rocks, and then it’s go time,” Henry said, his humor falling away.

“I have an awesome idea.” The ledge of Bria’s cart scraped against the corner when we turned. “Let’s put rocks in a cadaver or two, and Jerry can throw bodies at people.”

Jerry afforded her a look of death as we walked.

“Think about it. That would really confuse everyone,” Bria prodded. “Limbs whipping around, heads wobbling, flying by the middle…”

“Something is terribly wrong with you,” Jerry told her in a gruff voice. I had a feeling he was trying to control his stomach. “Terribly wrong.”

“Yeah.” She grinned.

Once we’d gathered rocks from the garden—judging by the divots already there, we weren’t the only ones to have done so—we found our way to a hallway like any other. This time, though, Henry stopped, looking down at his phone. “We’re here. Apparently.”

We all looked around, the way clear for fifty feet in each direction before corners or dead ends closed off the view. No blood splattered the walls. No burn marks or anything out of place.

“Has it started yet?” I asked, feeling a solid weight settle on me. It wasn’t from the situation, it was from those damn watchers in spirit. When I turned to look, they were just smears of black on the murky ultraviolet plane of the Line. This time, though, their gaze felt heavier—not oppressive but focused. I hadn’t felt it this strongly since our showdown at Lydia’s place.

If my father wasn’t watching me, who was? Aaron and Lydia had been present at the courtyard fight too.

“We’re at the very outskirts.” Henry put away his phone. “And we’re dealing with the best of the best. Keep your wits about you; things are going to get hairy.”

All humor gone, we walked slowly down the hall. The doors were closed, but I’d be able to feel anyone in the rooms we approached. The stagnant air stifled the noise of our advancement, except for the soft squeal of one of the wheels on Bria’s cart and the muted thuds of Jerry’s rocks rolling along on the thin carpet.

“Are you sure we’re in the right spot?” I whispered.

“Yes and no.” Henry didn’t take out his phone again. “We’re in the right place per the phone app, but I have no idea where people generally fight. Amber was the encyclopedia on all that.”

“Something you might’ve mentioned before I sent her away.”

“I thought you wanted to access your mother’s magic.”

“I don’t know how to access my mother’s magic,” I hissed. “Mostly. I think it happens sometimes by accident, but I never actually try.”

“I think our best approach is to embrace the unpredictability of the situation,” Daisy said. “These magical types are all so buttoned up. They might think they are wild and crazy, but their world is governed by a very slowly changing set of rules with a tightly defined gray area. If it’s a public fight, there should be blood, check. Less experienced fighters stick to the garden, please, out of sight.” She stuck up her nose, mimicking what she clearly thought of the Demigods in this place. “The most experienced can have the hallways, which we can pretend is a dangerous maze with lots of hiding places. Bonus—it affords a fantastic ability for observation.”