Major character death and major spoilers for the series finale.

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Kat was a boy in her dream—no, a man, a man in a cave. A man in a cave in the dark, a man who could swordfight and speak ten languages, a man she knew—right? But everything she Saw in this nightmare was fuzzy, as if he were trying to block her, protect her. There was a cross and fire and so much fear—how could his father be evil? Dads were supposed to be good. Dads were supposed to love you. He'd lived his whole life trying to be his father and now—Latin and holy water and oh God Alex Rachel Nick Kat please God forgive me I wanted—

"Oh my God, Kat—Kat!"

Cassidy sounded terrified—ballsy Cassidy (though Kat would never say that in front of Mom) who chased tornadoes with her dad for fun. Kat jerked awake and rolled out of her sleeping bag. She was halfway across Cassidy's living room before she ran back to her bag and grabbed Tuffy Bear. You know, just in case. Not like she was scared or anything.

"Kat. Sweetheart, you—oh, God." Cassidy's mom almost sounded sick. Kat's heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. She bolted into the kitchen, breath hitching. "No, David, turn off the TV. She doesn't need to see—"

Too late. Kat stared at the orange fire glowing on the screen, a massive bonfire on Angel Island right where the House should be. "Where's my mom?"

"We don't—she hasn't called, sweetheart, she might have been at your house—"

"No, she was at the House. Derek wanted her to be. She was there, I know it. Where's my mom? Where's my mom?" Kat's voice climbed higher and higher. Her throat was painfully tight. She'd cried in front of cool Cassidy before, and it had been miserable, feeling like a baby, but now she didn't care. She couldn't care because everyone lived at the House, everyone did, her Nick and her Alex and her Derek and—"Where's my mommy? Please, where's my mommy?"

"Kat—Katty, we don't even know if—nobody knows, dude, okay, I—" Cassidy reached for Kat's hand, but Kat jerked away. She couldn't see anything more than colors through a blur of tears. "Kat."

"I want my mom! I don't want her to die. I don't want my mommy to die like my daddy. Please, please, I want my mommy, I want my mommy, I want—"

"Kat—"

This time, when Cassidy reached for her, Kat bolted. The screen door slammed off its hinges as she ran. The pavement was cold on her bare feet, but she didn't care, couldn't care. She choked on snot and tears, clinging to Tuffy with one hand. She had to get to Mom. Mom couldn't be dead. She couldn't be, not like Connor and Daddy. Please, no, please, Kat knew Connor wanted Mommy back, but she needed Mommy more, she needed a mommy, she couldn't be by herself. She wouldn't ever watch cartoons while she did her homework and she wouldn't ever go to the movies on a school night and she wouldn't ever skip class or do magic—if she could just keep her mommy.

Tires squealed. Kat froze in the middle of the street, paralyzed in the beams of headlights—

"Kat!"

-and then she hit the sidewalk on the other side of the street with a thud. The rough pavement scraped her knees and elbows raw. Tuffy's arm tore halfway, stuffing spilling out.

"You idiot. You are so dumb, I swear. Come on—"

There was a flash of light, a sickening turn, and suddenly Kat lay on her back in a field. The stars shone bright overhead. Far away, sirens sounded. Kat choked on the acrid stench of smoke.

"You are so dumb! How did I get such a dumb sister? You know better than to run in front of cars. Do you want to die like me?"

Kat jolted upright. She knew that voice, even after all these years. Sure enough, Connor stood a few feet away from her, arms crossed. He looked furious, but instead of seeming frightening like he would have when she was little, he just seemed sad. She was, she realized, his age now. "Connor?"

"Yeah, Connor. What's wrong with you?" Connor stepped toward Kat menacingly. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? Cars are so dangerous."

"I'm not stupid," Kat wanted to say, but what came out in a squeaking voice was, "Sorry."

Connor threw his hands in the air. He paced for a moment before sighing. "Okay. It's okay. Just—don't. Okay? Don't do that. Don't die. You scared the hell out of Daddy."

"Where—where is he?" Kat looked around hopefully. There was no trace of Daddy anywhere, though, and nowhere for him to be hiding. "Where are we?"

"Angel Island."

"All of us?" Kat's stomach turned. Did that mean—"Is Mommy dead?"

"No. Just Daddy and me." Connor gave Kat a look. "Duh."

"But—but the House—oh, my God—Connor, I have to go to the House. It—the House—it exploded, Connor, it was on TV and—" and Kat's dream came back to her in a rush of flamepainfear. "Derek. Derek was—Derek was in the House when it exploded. Connor—Connor!" Kat jumped to her feet. The sirens were louder now: police, ambulance, and fire, Kat could pick out all three. "Derek was in the House. In it!"

"Yeah. I know."

"Come on!" Kat spun around frantically, searching for the House in the dark. It wasn't hard to find; red and orange arched across the night sky from it. Kat had never run from this field to there, but Nick did it every day. She could do it for Derek.

"Kat, wait—"

Kat took off at a run, slipping on the wet grass. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, she could feel the magic that surged through the air around the Island. She could reach for it if she wanted to, use it to help, to save. Not all magic was witchcraft. There was the magic in love, the kind that connected her to Mom and Dad and Connor. She reached out with that across the Island, diving deep into the House to where she knew Derek was, where he had to be.

There was nothing.

Kat blinked and tried again. Nothing, but that wasn't right. She'd just dreamed about him. She'd just felt him. She'd just been him. She thought about everything she knew about Derek, trying to call him up. He was her precept. He was Dutch. He loved coffee and hated computers. He knew how to swordfight. He talked to kids like they were adults. He could dance and play piano, and he wore funny bowties to every fancy dinner the Legacy House had. He told awful jokes and riddles and loved puns, like all of her friend's dorky dads. He was good. He was the best. He loved Kat, and Kat loved him, so she knew she could reach him. She just had to stretch—

Nothing. Nothing and nothing and nothing. Kat tried and tried, but no matter how far she reached or how much magic she conjured, Derek was nowhere to be found. It wasn't even like he was asleep. It was like there was a black hole right where he should have been. Kat tripped over a wooden fence, her breath coming in gasps. This was wrong. Derek. Where was Derek?

"Kat! Kat, wait up! Listen to me. Kat!"

Connor grabbed Kat's arm with icy fingers. She shrieked and nearly fell. When she tried to pull away, Connor tightened his grip. His blue eyes were huge and serious—the most serious Kat had ever seen him. Like an adult, almost. Like Daddy. "Kat, listen," he said in a deliberately steady voice. "You can't help him."

"Yes, I can. I have magic. I have the Sight just like Derek. I know how to use it. I saw where he was. I can show the firefighters, and then they can pull him out and—"

"Kat, that's not going to do any good."

"Yes, it will! Once he's out of the House, he'll be safe."

"The firefighters pulled me out of the car, and it didn't do me any good."

Kat froze. Her face went numb. She stared at Connor, expecting his serious façade to crack any moment. He would smirk, then snicker, and then she'd hit him in the stomach and call him an asshole, and then he'd freak out because his baby sister was growing up, and it would be fine, or as fine as things got. She could still go to the House and rescue Derek and hug Mom—because Mom had to be so scared right now. Mom needed her.

But Connor didn't smile. He rubbed his face impatiently. Kat realized that he was almost crying. "Don't get mad at me, okay? I'm just the messenger. There's nothing anybody could do, just like the car crash. At least he got to grow up. I didn't get that. At least he—"

"Shut up."

Connor blinked. "What?"

"I said shut up. Shut up. Shut up. You're wrong. Derek's not—Derek's not dead. Derek's never dead. He's pretending to be, right? He pretended to be last year, but he wasn't. He came back. Derek can't die. He's Derek. He's special."

Connor scowled. "And I'm not?"

"Not like him!" Kat knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, but she didn't care. She couldn't breathe right. The world spun. Derek couldn't be dead. He was supposed to come to the Christmas program in December and see her painting in the school art show. He kept hinting he was going to get Kat a dog for Christmas, a big-pawed German Shepherd puppy to help guard the House. He was supposed to be there on weekends when Kat went to the House. He was supposed to be there. He was— "He's not dead. You're a liar!"

"I'm not lying! Look. Just look." Connor grabbed Kat by the shoulders and spun her around so she stared straight at the collapsing remains of the House. The fire still raged. It was eating the library stairs Senephra pushed Philip down and the landing where Nick played airplane with Kat and the desk where Alex helped Kat do her homework. It was eating all of Derek's books and Mom's photo albums. It was eating everything, but it couldn't eat Derek. Derek was better than books and stairs. Derek was—"How do you think a person's going to survive that? Kat, isn't Daddy special? Isn't he? Dad's special. Derek's no better than he is."

"It's different. It's a house, not a car. He could've covered his head or—or—he hid, Connor, he hid somewhere to keep safe. He had to. Please, Connor." Kat's throat squeezed shut. Tears spilled hot down her cheeks. "Please."

"I can't do anything about it."

"Please!"

"I can't!" Now Connor's voice cracked. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't fix it for you. Don't cry. Please don't cry. I don't know how to fix it. I don't like it when people die, either. Death's scary. I hate it. I hate it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was mean to him when I visited you on Christmas. I'm sorry I made fun of you. Please, Kat, don't—look, hug Tuffy or something, Tuffy Bear's here, he's supposed to fix things, right? I don't—crap. Dad, help, she's—Kat's freaking out on me, Dad, help!"

Kat couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She was crying and crying and not making a sound because she wanted Dad. She wanted Connor back for real. She wanted Derek. Derek who was a hero, who was a knight, who was brave and chivalrous and funny and serious and like a dad but not all at once. Derek who helped Mom when Mom was sick or drunk. Derek who told the best stories. Derek who never once, no matter how bratty Kat acted, talked down to her or treated her like a child. He had to be there. This was a dream, an awful nightmare—Kat couldn't—how—

"Oh, Kitty-Kat."

And then Daddy was there, pulling both Connor and Kat into his arms like they were little again. Kat couldn't even be glad he was there. She grabbed onto his shirt and screamed into his chest. "Oh, God," Connor whimpered. "Daddy, make her stop. Dad, fix her. She's scaring me. Daddy!"

"Shh. Shh. Oh, Kat. Oh, Kat. Oh, I love you. Oh, my Kat." Daddy let go of Connor so he could pick Kat up. Her scraped elbows and knees knocked against him, and she cried harder, chest heaving. She buried her face in Daddy's shoulder like she was three, getting snot and tears all over him. He held on tight.

Every time she got a good breath in, she screamed.

"Could I see her?"

"She's not calming down. If you upset her more—"

"Please. I may not have the gift to freely travel as you do, and I—please."

Kat's breath caught. She forgot to scream. She knew that voice with the funny accent. Sure enough, when she peeked over Daddy's shoulder, he was there: Derek, like he'd never been gone, wearing one of those stupid dorky dad sweaters he always wore. He didn't look hurt at all. In fact, for the first time in Kat's life, he didn't have dark circles under his eyes. He looked healthy, young.

That's how Kat knew.

She launched at him. Daddy had no choice but to let her go; she was big now, strong, not the baby he had known. So when she punched Derek in the face, the shoulders, the chest, Daddy didn't stop her. Neither did Derek. He caught her, supporting her weight and letting her hit.

That made everything worse. Because he felt so real—he wasn't cold yet like Daddy or Connor. He felt warm, alive, like he'd just strolled over from the House. Like nothing was wrong! Kat couldn't draw blood, couldn't really hurt him, and she didn't want to, but—"I hate you! It's not fair! It's not fair. Why'd you have to die? It's not fair. It's not fair."

"I know."

"No, you don't! What am I gonna do when I See things? What am I gonna do when—you're suppose't'come to school. You're suppose't'be there for Christmas. You're suppose't'be there. I don't want—I don't want—" Kat choked on tears. She let her arms drop. She didn't have the energy to hit anymore. "I don't want you to die. Fix it. Fix it. Fix it, Derek."

"Oh, kleintje. Kat."

When Derek pulled her into a hug, Kat didn't protest. Her arms stayed limp for a moment. Then it hit her all at once: This was the last time she'd see Derek ever, the last time she'd hug him ever, the last time she'd be near him ever, the last time she'd hear his voice ever. She clutched at his sweater, reaching upward. She didn't want—

Derek lifted her easily, as if she were still seven. He'd carried her like that the first time they'd met, just scooped her up to protect her from the demon that was hurting her mommy. Kat wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. He smelled like ink and lemon candy and the pipes he smoked when Mom wasn't looking. He felt warm. He felt real. Surely he could just walk back to the House like this. He could stay there forever. He could pretend none of this had happened. He could still be precept, still be—

"I have to go soon," Derek said quietly. Kat flinched. "I have only been given a little time to see you."

"But I don't want you to go." Kat knew she sounded like a little girl. She didn't care. She took a shaky breath. "You can't go."

"Why not?" Derek asked gently.

"Because you're Derek."

"Oh, Katherine." Derek nearly laughed. "That's a good enough reason for me to be immortal?"

"Yes. You're the best person in the whole world."

"No. I don't think so."

"You are. You're the best person and the best precept. You can't go." Kat tightened her grip on Derek, as if that would stop him. "You're always brave, and you always protect people. Please, Derek."

"I do not have a choice."

Kat leaned back so she could look him in the eye. "But my daddy already died. I don't want you to die, too."

Behind Derek, Daddy said "oh." Connor sat down hard. Derek sighed. He looked up and away from Kat. It took her a second to realize he was trying not to cry. "Dear Kat. I know it is hard. Truly, I do. I wish I hadn't died. I wish I could stay with you and your mother and Nick and Alex forever. Don't you know that I do? But I cannot change what has happened." When Derek looked back at Kat, his eyes were overbright. Kat reached out and touched his cheek. "No matter how hard I wish it. Do you understand?"

"But what am I gonna do when I have a nightmare?"

"You will go to Alex and talk to her, and she will understand."

"What about if I see a ghost?"

"The same."

"What if I…" Kat hiccupped. "What about my magic? What if I do something wrong again? What if I meet someone like Miranda and don't realize they're evil?"

"Then," Derek said slowly, "Nick will protect you, and Alex will help you, and your mother will love you. And if you are ever lonely, you will look up Philip's number and phone him because he loves you, too. All right? They are there. They are your family, and they love you."

Kat pressed her hands against Derek's face. "But I love you too."

Derek's face lit up. "I know you do. I know. And I am so proud of you. I hope you know that. I am proud of how much you have grown and everything you have achieved. You have been a brave little girl, and someday you will be a brilliant woman."

"But I'm not yet." Kat ran her fingers through Derek's hair. She'd never had the chance to before. She thought suddenly of the Narnia books when Lucy and Susan walked Aslan to the Stone Table—except Derek wasn't Aslan. He'd already died, and he couldn't come back. Real people who died couldn't come back to life. Not really, anyway. "I'm not. I wanted to learn how to swordfight like you."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes. Remember—remember when the demon with the sepulchers had Mommy, and you carried me up the stairs while you were holding a sword?"

"One of the most terrifying nights of my life. Yes. I remember. You can learn. You will find someone to teach you. Nick can show you some tricks, and the rest…take fencing at university. Archery. Latin. Greek." Derek sighed and shook his head. "I wanted a better childhood for you than what I had, Katherine. I should have never—"

"No. It was good. It is good, Derek. I'm happy. Really. I just get mad at Mom when she treats me like a baby, but—I love going to the House. I love hearing your stories. Please don't leave, Derek." Kat pressed her forehead against Derek's. She was still crying, had never stopped. She couldn't. She couldn't let go of Derek. "Mom's not gonna be okay. Nobody's gonna be okay. I love you. Everybody loves you. Please, Derek. Please don't go. You can be a ghost. You can hang around the House. It'll be like you didn't even die."

"Kat." Derek's voice was kind but stern. "You know that would never work out."

"Why not? You wouldn't be an evil spirit. You're a good guy."

Derek sighed. Suddenly, he looked tired again. Careworn, like he usually did. More like Kat remembered him. "The powers that be have a different plan for me."

"You have to go to Heaven?" Derek nodded. Kat swallowed hard. "But then I'll never see you again."

Derek frowned. "And why not?"

Kat swallowed again, this time against a wave of nausea. "I'm…I don't think I'm good enough."

"Katherine Corrigan." Derek caught Kat's chin in his hand so she couldn't look away. His eyes searched her face carefully. "You are so good. Don't ever doubt your goodness. Everyone makes mistakes, especially as teenagers, but even as adults. I made many mistakes. Believe me." He smiled ruefully. "I was worse than most. Just never forget your kind heart. All right? Never stop seeing the best in people. It may put you in danger sometimes, but it is your greatest gift. Do you understand? Never forget your kind heart."

Something was happening. Kat could feel it in the magic that spun around them. Derek's time to talk to her was running out. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his sweater again. "I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss you so much."

"And I you." Derek kissed the top of her head. "Now be brave. Take care of your mother and the others. They will need your help."

Kat sniffed. "Okay. Watch over me? Like Daddy and Connor do?"

"Always."

Kat took three deep breaths to fight off sobs. "Okay. Okay. I'll take care of Mom. I'll be brave. I'll be good. I promise." She didn't know why Derek had died. She wanted to know—wanted to know everything—but there wasn't time. There would never be enough time. All she knew was that she was lost.

"Good." Derek set Kat gently on her feet. She kissed his cheek, her stomach churning. She wasn't ready to let go. "Be brave."

"I will."

Daddy took Kat's hand. Derek stepped back, glancing back toward the burning House. He started to glow. Kat had seen people ascend before, but Derek wasn't Senephra. Derek was Derek. Kat swallowed again and again to keep from throwing up or screaming. As Derek started to shimmer, Kat called, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Derek said. Then he was gone, up, vanishing into the stars.

Kat stared after him. Her face was sticky, and her stomach hurt. She could still smell Derek. She could still see him in her mind. She could still hear his voice. Daddy squeezed her hand. "All right, Kitty-Kat?"

"No," Kat said crossly.

"Duh," Connor muttered. "Why would she be?"

Daddy sighed. "I don't know. Come on. Let's take you to Mommy. Derek's right. She needs you."

"I should've let her date Derek," Kat mumbled. "I shouldn't've thrown a fit."

"I don't think that would have changed this," Daddy said gently. "Are you ready?"

Kat bit her lip. The fire still burned, though she couldn't imagine how there was anything left of the House to burn now. She didn't want to see it like that, a smouldering ruin. She didn't want to see Mom or Alex cry, or even worse, Nick. But she didn't have a choice. She had to go. Derek wanted her to be brave. She couldn't let him down. "I guess."

"Don't forget Tuffy." Connor held out the bear to Kat. Kat hesitated, expecting him to make fun of her for still having the bear, but he didn't even crack a grin. She hugged the ragged bear to her chest, glad Mom hadn't let her give him away.

"All right, now," Daddy said. "Let's go."

There was a rush of wind, a sickening turn, and then Kat stood on the driveway in front of what was left of the House. Firetrucks blocked the way to it. The House had collapsed in on itself when it exploded. Glass littered the garden.

"Bye, sweetheart," Daddy whispered. He kissed her head and then was gone with a rustling of leaves. Connor stared at Kat for a moment, his expression wrecked, before he pulled her roughly into a hug. Kat gasped. She hadn't expected him to be sweet. Before she could hug back, he let go and vanished.

Kat shivered. Her feet were bleeding now, and she was freezing without a coat. She couldn't see anyone she knew anywhere. "Mom?" she called, her voice wavering. "Mommy?"

"Kat—Kat! Oh, God, honey. Kat." Nick sprinted across the yard. As soon as she saw him, Kat burst into tears. He pulled her into a hug, then lifted her off her feet. Kat didn't even care anymore whether she looked like a kid or not. "Kat, you scared the shit out of us. You can't do that. Your friend's dad called, and we thought—how did you even get here?"
"I ran," Kat said, not caring that Nick knew she couldn't run on water. "I dreamed about Derek, Nick."

"Oh, no." Nick's voice was soft and strained. "So you…know?"

Kat nodded, leaning her head on Nick's shoulder. "Where's Mom?"

"With Alex. C'mon." Nick set her on her feet. Kat held his hand as they picked their way through the debris-strewn yard to the griffin. Mom and Alex had their arms around each other and their backs to Nick and Kat. They flinched and spun around when Nick called their names. Mom's eyes widened. She stumbled half a step.

That was all it took for Kat to take off running to her. In a second, she had her arms wrapped tight around Mom. She didn't sob—couldn't; she felt numb from all the screaming she'd done with Daddy and Connor and Derek—but she hiccupped as Mom cried into her hair. "Baby," Mom started to say, "baby girl—"

"I know, Mommy. I know. I'm gonna-"—take care of you, Kat meant to say—"miss Derek so much. I want him back."

"I know, baby. We all do." Mom's breath hitched. "Oh, baby girl, why does this always happen to us?"

Kat shivered. "I don't know. I don't know."

"Rachel," Alex choked out. "Kat." Blindly, Kat reached out a hand to her. Alex grabbed on, then hugged, warm and safe and there. Another set of arms wrapped around them all, strong and secure. Nick. Nick was there. When his hand brushed against the back of Kat's head, she jumped: there was a ring on his finger now. Derek's ring. Nick was precept? That was so wrong. Derek should be—but he couldn't be.

Kat closed her eyes and held on tight to Mom and Tuffy Bear. Nothing was okay without Derek. How could it be? How was she going to learn or think or be brave without him around? But she'd learn to be. She would be brave and good. She'd promised Derek, after all. Maybe someday, she'd fight and speak and be like him. Maybe someday, she thought, (but never told Mom), she would be precept just like him.

After all, someone had to keep fighting demons in caves. Right?