Somehow, the weekend actually goes well. After nothing goes wrong on Saturday, they decide they're safe for now, which means Steve has the chance to catch up with his other friends like Seamus and Logan. They've grown apart some, ever since Steve got involved with all the weird stuff in Arcadia. Keeping secrets isn't particularly good for friendships. They both get it a lot more at this point, now that they know about trolls and aliens.

"You know," says Logan as they toss a football in his backyard, "it's kinda cool, all this supernatural stuff."

Steve scoffs. "Yeah, until you're almost dying."

"Okay, but do you ever really almost die?"

"Yes," says Steve flatly. "Like last week."

"Wait, really?" says Seamus. He looks concerned despite himself. "Dude, what have you gotten yourself into?"

Wizards. Apocalypse number three. Evil knights. Except Steve can't say any of that to his normal, non-wizard, non-Trollhunter, non-Akiridion friends, so he just shakes his head. "A mess, man. I can't tell you."

"Maybe we could help," says Seamus. "You never know. I have a lot more free time since my dad's out of town for the summer."

"Can we get him out forever?" mutters Logan. Seamus chucks the football at him. Seamus's dad is kind of a sore subject for anyone that knows him, but especially Seamus. Steve personally thinks Mrs. Johnson should follow Mom's example and kick him out for good, but he also knows that he's still Seamus's dad. Steve's own biological father may have been a total buttsnack, but Steve spent most of his life looking up to the man anyway.

"Thanks, guys," says Steve. "But I don't want to drag you into this. Enjoy your normalness."

Seamus scoffs and mutters something about normalness being a matter of opinion. Logan just laughs and throws the football back to Steve.

"Trolls, aliens," he says. As he's talking, Steve tosses the ball towards Seamus. "What's next? Wizards?"

Seamus fumbles the ball, seemingly choking on air. He shakes his head and picks the ball back up. "That's ridiculous."

"Yep," Steve manages. His voice comes out half an octave higher than he meant it to, so he clears his throat. "That's crazy, man."

"Well, whatever it is, it's gotta be some sort of crazy," says Logan. "And given the last two crazy things, it's gonna involve the rest of us eventually."

Steve winces. He's right, of course. Once it gets end of the world time, people are going to know. Probably. Usually, the end of the world is kind of a big, obvious deal. Steve wants to laugh, because how many people actually know what the end of the world is usually like? The end of the world isn't supposed to be a usually type of event.

"Well," he says, "just enjoy your break while you have it."

Monday morning, he and Toby and Krel meet up back at Mort's shop. Steve tries to hide his excitement, but getting to learn magic is pretty exciting so he's not sure he does a good job. Toby, at least, looks equally thrilled.

"Dude, this is so cool!" he gushes as they walk in. "You're going to be leaning magic! Magic!"

"I know, I know," Steve laughs. "I wonder if I'll get to blow something up. Or learn that trick Mort did on Friday!"

"Maybe eventually." Mort appears from the trapdoor, brushing off his hands on his jeans. "Good morning, boys. Have a good weekend?"

"Toby, Aaarrrgghh!, and I worked on the Mothership," says Krel. He picks up a cat-shaped glass figure off the shelf and inspects it. "We finally got rid of all the destroyed OMENs."

"Only took us all weekend," says Toby.

"Careful with the cursed talismans, if you will, Krel," says Mort. Krel's eyes widen and he quickly puts the figure back on the shelf. Steve can't tell if Mort's joking or not. He makes a note not to touch anything on that shelf. "Spaceships. Don't know why I expected anything different."

"Are we training with Nimue again today?" Krel asks. His grimace makes it clear he hopes the answer is no.

"Not this morning," says Mort. "You know, we could use a few more hands in the shop here. You boys are here pretty often, if you wanted to work in the shop while I train Steve I'd be willing to pay you."

Toby lights up. "You mean like a real-life summer job?"

"Exactly like that," says Mort.

"Yes!" Toby cheers. "Man, Nana is gonna be so happy."

"Will I get cursed?" Krel asks warily. He eyes the glass figures on the shelf and takes a fairly large step away from them. Toby does the same.

"Not if you're careful," says Mort. "I think Douxie's still sleeping, but I'll get him to come down so he can show you the ropes."

"We get to work in a magic shop," Toby whispers in awe.

Mort walks to a door in the back of the shop, propped open to reveal a stairwell. He cups his hands around his mouth and leans forward.

"DOUXIE! UP!" After a few moments and no response, Mort grabs a broom and walks closer to the front of the shop, then uses it to pound on the ceiling. "DOUXIE!"

There's a thud from upstairs. Mort nods approvingly and puts the broom back. Steve pities his new friend.

"He'll be down in a minute," he says. "If he's not, go up and bother him. Alright, Steve. Follow me downstairs and we'll begin your training."

"Yes!" Steve exclaims, pumping his fist in the air. He follows Mort into the library. "What are we learning first? Cool shielding spells? Magic blasts! Magic explosions!"

Mort raises an eyebrow. "Why don't we sit?"

Steve sits. He leans forward eagerly, hands on his knees. "Okay. Tell me what to do."

"Close your eyes," says Mort. Steve closes his eyes. "Clear your mind."

Steve waits.

He waits a few seconds longer.

"And then?" he prompts.

"And then keep it clear, for now," says Mort. "We're meditating."

"Meditating!?" Steve exclaims, eyes flying open. "But that's no fun! When do we do magic?"

"When you can sit still for more than five minutes," says Mort dryly. He doesn't open his eyes. "Clear your mind."

"Ugghhhh," Steve groans.

"Magic needs intent," says Mort. "Intent needs a clear mind. If your intent is muddied, your magic will be, too."

Steve huffs out a sigh but closes his eyes. Clear his mind. Clear his mind. Don't think… of anything… someone just turned a book page. It's probably Archie. Wouldn't his glasses mess with him? How do they stay on? What kind of cat has bad eyesight, anyway?

No. Clear mind, clear mind. There are footsteps upstairs. Did Douxie get up? Man, Steve would be pissed if his parents did that to him. Well, not parents, Coach isn't a parent. Well. Sort of, Coach is sort of a parent. Can he count Coach as a parent?

"Come on, focus, Steve," he mutters aloud.

This is going to be a long day.

Steve still hasn't managed to "clear his mind" by the time Mort decides to break for lunch. He tells him to join Krel and Toby and Douxie and go get lunch downtown somewhere. Douxie glares grumpily at his uncle even as Mort shoves a couple of bills in his hands and tells him it's break time.

"He could wake me like a normal person, but no," Douxie complains as they walk to the nearest fast food place for lunch.

"The other night Steve dumped water on me," says Krel, sending Steve a glare.

"It worked," says Steve.

They order and Douxie pays. It's immediately obvious that Krel has never had fast food beyond Stuart's taco truck before because he seems baffled by the whole process. It's kind of amusing to watch him get confused by human things. It's like a puppy. He even sometimes does the head-tilt thing.

"How's magic training going?" Toby asks eagerly as they sit down.

"Awful," says Steve, violently spurting ketchup onto his burger. "All we've done is meditate!"

Douxie chuckles. "Sounds about right. Trust me. It's even less fun when you're a kid."

"When do we get to the good stuff?" Steve demands.

"Well, I was on meditation for at least a month," says Douxie. Steve's jaw drops. "But I'm pretty sure you're on the fast track, given the end of the world and all. You'll probably move on after you can manage to clear your mind decently."

Steve deflates. "Great. At this rate, it'll take all month just to do that."

"You'll get the hang of it," says Douxie.

"How's the shop?" Steve asks, glancing at Krel and Toby.

"I think we're doing pretty well," says Toby.

"We're very bad at it," says Krel.

"They'll learn," says Douxie. "We haven't had many customers. I'm trying to catch them up on terminology."

"It's so magicky," gushes Toby. "I feel like I'm living in a fantasy book, it's so cool! Like, what are our lives, man?"

"I, for one, would prefer a much less exciting life," says Krel.

Douxie chuckles. "You should have seen Uncle Mort's face when I told him about the Eternal Night thing. He was half ready to straight-up move."

"I don't blame him," says Steve.

"I told him about this and he was just like…" Douxie pauses and clears his throat, then tries to mimic Mort's voice. "Why is it always Arcadia? This never happened back in England! I lived there for decades with no apocalypses! Decades!"

"I'm pretty sure the apocalypses started when Krel came," says Toby. "So it's kinda his fault."

"Hey!" Krel protests. "I had no part of your Eternal Night. That was all you."

"Well, I just got dragged into all of this," Steve says. "I made the wrong friends."

"That is not how Eli told it," says Toby.

"What does Eli know?"

"He was there, Steve."

Krel starts to laugh, but suddenly his face goes slack in horror. Steve's brow furrows and he turns to see what Krel is starting at – oh, no.

Across the street, staring at them through the window, stands the Green Knight. She looks as impassive as always, but that doesn't mean she can't kick their butts. Again. Steve's cut is still tender, and technically he made it worse by fighting the bounty hunter the other day.

"She's back," whispers Toby.

"Alright, we should get out of here," says Douxie. "We'll ask to use a back exit. Come on, pack up your food."

He doesn't have to tell them twice. All three of them shove what's left of their meals in the two paper bags. Douxie grabs them and returns the trays, then leads them to the ordering counter.

"Hey," he says, "we, uh, have a supernatural problem. You remember the trolls and aliens, right?"

The cashier – someone from their school that Steve doesn't actually know – glances at Krel, who smiles awkwardly, then nods. "Need the kitchen exit?"

"That would be fantastic," says Douxie.

Douxie leads them awkwardly through the kitchen and out the door in the back. He waves for them to hurry.

"We can use the sewers," says Toby.

"And go out front and face her? No, follow me," says Douxie. He leads them down the back-alley with the speed of someone who's done it before. The way Toby moves suggests he has too, and Steve wonders if they hid trolls in these alleys at some point. He doesn't know details about what happened between giving umbrellas to the trolls and the Eternal Night.

Douxie pushes open a door that must lead to Mort's shop and ushers them in. They're in some sort of storage room. It's cluttered and feels… weird, somehow, like there's too many people buzzing around except there's no people. Douxie leads them out and immediately rushes to the front desk to activate the barrier.

"We're safe," he says. A glance out the window says they aren't safe for long. The Knight is out front, waiting. Steve mentally waves goodbye to his alone time. It's back to sleepovers with Toby and Krel.

"How did she get out of Trollmarket?" Toby whines. "I didn't think there were any horngazels down there!"

"Well, she got out!" snaps Steve. "Why won't she leave us alone? We beat her! We passed her test!"

"I don't think she counted it," says Krel.

Mort enters from the upstairs. He looks kind of baffled to see them back so soon. "You know, lunch breaks are usually an hour or so."

"She's back!" Toby cries, pointing at the Knight. "We didn't really want to get attacked again."

Mort's eyebrows shoot up. "Ah. The infamous Green Knight. Well, you are safe here. We'll have to figure something out for later."

"We'll just do what we were doing before," says Steve. "Sleepovers. It works."

"Well, then," says Mort. "Nimue wants to see you again."

Krel and Toby exchange mournful looks.

"Do we have to?" Krel asks.

"It's good for you," Mort prompts.

"Let's go get beaten up," grumbles Toby.

Mort turns to Steve as Toby and Krel climb through the trap door. "Are you ready to keep training, Steve?"

Douxie, behind his uncle, gives Steve a grin and two thumbs-up. Steve sighs. "Yep. More meditating. Yay."

He follows Mort back into the library and sits before being asked. He even closes his eyes and tries meditating without being asked. How hard can it be to clear his mind? He's never actually realised just how much is in his mind before now. Ugh, why is there so much!? Why do wizards have to meditate anyway? He bets he could do spells without it.

"This is pointless!" he bursts out. "I did a spell in Trollmarket, I think I'm ready."

"You did a spell?" says Mort. Steve can't read his expression, but he hopes it means Mort is rethinking starting with the basics.

"Yeah, I saved the others!" he boasts for good measure.

"Did you?" Mort makes a non-committal hum and stands. He makes his way to the desk. He opens a drawer and pulls out a piece of paper, then sets it in front of Steve. "Alright. Levitate the paper."

"What?"

"Levitate it," says Mort. "It's very simple. All it takes is intent and focus. One of the easiest spells in the book. It doesn't even take words. Go on."

"Uh – I – fine!" Steve glares at the piece of paper and tries to will it to levitate. It doesn't budge. He glares harder. It still doesn't budge. He starts mentally ordering it to levitate, getting more and more frustrated each time it fails to lift its stupid self off the ground.

Then, finally, the paper bursts into flames. Steve scrambles backwards with a yelp, but Mort just waves a hand over the paper and the flames go out. Smoke curls off the charred remains of the page.

"Muddied intent," says Mort. "Magic is dangerous. You got lucky when you saved your friends. You just as easily could have killed them. Or worse."

Steve stares at the ashes of the piece of paper. He – could have killed them? He could have killed them. He could have messed it up, and instead of being splat at the bottom of a staircase they'd be – he doesn't know – burned to a crisp or – or exploded into a million tiny gross bits. He shudders to even think about it.

"Magic can do many wonders." Mort waves his hand over the ashes and they fly into the air, sparkling in beautiful lights floating around the room that morph to show Arcadia. Then Mort closes his hand, and the illusion of Arcadia catches fire. Steve flinches. "It can also do many horrors. Even a simple levitation spell can backfire. Imagine a more complex spell, used in the midst of battle, and what that could do."

Steve doesn't want to imagine. He doesn't want to think he could accidentally kill his friends.

"Do you see why meditation is important?" Mort prompts softly. "Clearing your mind is an essential talent for a wizard."

Steve swallows. "I get it."

The illusion vanishes. As the candlelight flickers back to its normal level, Mort's face looks tired and sad. "All beginning wizards make mistakes. Usually they aren't in your position, where a mistake could cost you or your friends their lives. Promise me that until I give the okay, you won't use magic in battle."

The ashes of the paper have settled back to the floor, dusting the hardwood with grey. Steve can't stop staring at them and thinking of what ifs. He nods stiffly, and finally tears his eyes back to Mort. "I promise."

They're spending the night at Toby's tonight. Mort drives them; Steve regrets assuming the Knight was still safely in Trollmarket and leaving his Vespa at home. Dinner is pizza again, not that Steve's complaining. They set up in the living room with sleeping bags and Aaarrrgghh!. Krel has somehow gotten his hands on a guitar and is absently strumming it.

"Steve, you alright?" Toby asks.

"Huh?" Steve says. "Oh, I'm fine."

Toby's eyebrows shoot up. "Really? Because usually you'd have some sort of stupid comeback ready."

"My comebacks aren't stupid," Steve retorts half-heartedly. He picks up his slice of pizza and bites into it, then, adds, "My comebacks are the best."

"Keep telling yourself that," says Krel.

"Learning magic isn't all it's cracked up to be?" Toby guesses. When Steve doesn't answer, he nods as if everything makes sense. "Meditation. Doesn't sound very fun."

Krel rolls his eyes. "You and my sister, always rushing into things. You two are made for each other!"

"It's more that magic isn't all it's cracked up to be," Steve mutters.

"What?" scoffs Toby. "No way. Magic is awesome!"

"Magic can kill people," Steve snaps.

"So?" says Krel. "So can Aja, but you still like her."

"It's not the same thing."

"Magic dangerous," Aaarrrgghh! rumbles. He pats Steve on the head. "Takes practice."

"Maybe I don't want to practice anymore!" explodes Steve. "Maybe I just want to be a normal guy. Who's dating an Akiridion queen and is friends with trolls and extra-terrestrials and wizards – but normal! Who doesn't have magic!"

Toby and Krel look surprised by his outburst. Steve crosses his arms. He was a lot more excited about magic when it was cool and fun and not something he could mess up and ruin everything with. When it was something that could come easy to him. He knows he can't just give up when it's hard – Eli drilled that into him about math class – but this is different. If he messes up in math class, no one dies, except maybe Ms. Janeth's minimal faith in him. If he messes up with magic, people he cares about could die. Not that he'll ever admit to being worried about that, least of all to the people he's worried about killing.

"I mean, you have magic whether you want it or not," reasons Toby. "Might as well make the best of it."

Steve scowls at his pizza. Toby has a point – not that Steve will ever say that out loud, of course, but he does have a point. What if in not learning magic he accidentally hurts someone? It's a – a catch something. There's a number. Catch… 42? No, wait, that doesn't sound right. It doesn't matter. He can't win.

"Besides," says Krel, "with the Green Knight back, we're going to need your magic. If you haven't noticed, we haven't stood a chance against her without it."

"I could have killed you guys!" Steve blurts. His mouth snaps shut and he looks away.

"We were going to die anyway," says Toby. "It was kind of a life or death situation. And what's important is that we all got away. Isn't it better to have a dangerous advantage than a safe disadvantage?"

"That doesn't make any sense," says Krel.

"It makes total sense!"

"What is a safe disadvantage? That does not make sense."

"I'm just saying, I could accidentally give Krel a concussion with my war-hammer, but I'd still rather have it," Toby says.

"Why are you giving me the concussion? Give Steve the concussion."

"We all know it'd be you."

"Why am I always the one getting knocked out even in hypothetical situations?"

Steve laughs despite himself. Once again, Toby has a point. About the magic, not about Krel. Well, yes about Krel, but that's a whole different can of worms. Aaarrrgghh! offers him a smile and Steve gives him his paper plate to eat. Not exactly trollish gourmet, but, hey, Aaarrrgghh! seems to like it well enough.

"How was training with Nimue?" he asks the others.

"How do you think?" says Krel. "I think she just enjoys beating us up."

"We're improving," says Toby.

"No, we're not."

"Maybe you're not," Toby shoots back, "but I am. Next time the Green Knight attacks, she better watch out."

"Shh!" Steve hisses. "She could be outside listening!"

"She's not going to hear us from outside."

"She could have super hearing!"

"You know, Akiridions can hear everything within a mile radius," says Krel.

Toby and Steve stare at him. He keeps a straight face, which makes Steve really unsure whether he's kidding or not. Would Aja have thought to mention that? Would it have come up?

"Wait, really?" asks Steve finally.

"No," says Toby.

Krel's face splits into a grin. "No. We can't. I was joking."

"You're a horrible person," says Steve. "I want you to know that."

"I know," says Krel smugly.

Steve can't sleep. Toby and Krel have been out for at least an hour now, but Steve is still restless from the day and stressed about the Knight outside and the end of the world slowly approaching. He hopes it's slow. If it came, like, tomorrow or something, they'd really be screwed.

He unzips his sleeping bag and sits up. The room is only lit by the faint yellows of street lights outside and Krel's natural glow, dim enough that Steve knows he's not having one of his weird dreams. Aaarrrgghh! watches him. Steve swears the troll knows something he doesn't.

He closes his eyes and lets out a breath.

Clear mind. He needs a clear mind.

Maybe he's been going about this wrong. Mort said magic is about intent. Maybe he isn't supposed to empty his mind but focus it. Make his intent clear. He tries to think of his intent. All he really wants is for things to turn out okay, for himself and his friends to be okay. That's sort of intent, isn't it?

He thinks of Seamus and Logan, his normal friends who still have the chance to have a normal summer. He thinks of Aja and Eli back on Akiridion-5. He hopes they're having fun. He takes the warmth in his heart at the thought of their laughter and latches onto it. He thinks of Mom, trying her best for him even when she doesn't know what's going on. He thinks of Coach, who despite being new to his home is everything Steve ever wanted in a father. He thinks of Krel and Toby, asleep beside him, caught up in this mess as much as he is. He focuses on their breathing – on Toby's quiet snores and Krel's near-silent breaths – on Toby shifting in his sleeping bag and the soft noises Krel makes.

He just wants to protect them.

He opens his eyes.

The world around him has lit up, colours floating in the air, connecting and mixing in beautiful swirls like paint on a canvas. He looks around, mouth falling open in awe. The glow is brightest around his friends. Toby is surrounded by a bright, happy orange, bursting like flames. Other colours twist in, a deep, earthy blue curling near his heart, a dark purple swirling and connecting to the blue, a light teal and forest green dancing together, a golden yellow that nearly blends in, a white sparking like electricity. Other colours, all somehow important even if Steve doesn't know how, all winding into an abstract painting. A glance at Krel finds a similar light show of the same sparking white that Steve had caught in Toby's orange. Krel has far fewer colours mixed in, but Steve catches Toby's fiery orange and the same golden yellow, along with a pale blue and two similar, darker blues dancing close to his core. Steve holds out his own hands, surprised to find them coated in gold – he reaches out a runs a hand along the edge of the light surrounding Krel, leaving a faint golden trail and his own fingers stained white.

He looks back at Aaarrrgghh!, surrounded in forest green and streaks of teal and orange and blue and probably hundreds of other, fainter colours. The troll smiles and offers him a fist bump. Steve lets out a small laugh and takes it. His knuckles come back painted green.

"Magic dangerous," Aaarrrgghh! says, "but beautiful."

"Woah," whispers Steve. He blinks a few times and the colours fade, leaving him back in the dark. That's fine. He's giddy he could figure it out at all, even for a brief time.

Maybe magic is worth it after all.

"I think I understand now," Steve says as he and Mort sit down in the library for training again. "I'm ready to learn. I'll stop being impatient."

"I'm glad to hear that," says Mort. "I was somewhat worried I scared you off."

"Who, me?" scoffs Steve, who will absolutely not admit that Mort almost had. "Nah. But, uh – I think I managed to meditate last night."

"Good," says Mort.

"So, uh… what are the colours?"

Mort frowns and sits up straighter. "I'm sorry?"

"The colours," repeats Steve. "You know – I meditated and then I opened my eyes and everyone around me was glowing! What's up with that?"

Mort leans back. "Huh. Colour me impressed. You can see auras."

"Uh – I can see what now?"

"Auras," says Mort. "The life force inside all of us. Not many wizards can actually see them, although most can vaguely sense them. You're born with a single-coloured aura, but as you make personal connections your aura shifts and gains the colours of others in your life."

"Can you see auras?" Steve asks.

Mort nods. "I can. It can tell you a lot about a person. It's how I know that even if you hide it, you really do care about your friends. It shows."

Steve's cheeks heat up. "Well – maybe."

"So, meditation unlocked the ability?" says Mort. "That sounds right."

"I think I figured it out," says Steve. "You didn't mean for me to empty my mind, you meant I need to focus! Right?"

"That's… sort of," agrees Mort. "It's really more step two, but it works."

"So I was supposed to empty my mind?"

"Usually," Mort says. "When you're doing a spell, you'll want to ensure you don't get distracted and mess it up. If you're willing to share, what did you meditate on?"

"Uh – well, I dunno, I don't remember exactly," stammers Steve. He's definitely not going to say he meditated on protecting the people he cared about. That's way too cheesy.

Mort chuckles. "Alright. Well, if you're up for it, I think we'll do a bit more meditating, and then, maybe, you can try a spell."

"Wait, really?" Steve exclaims. Mort nods with an amused smile. "YES! Finally!"

"Don't get too carried away," he says.

"Right, sorry." Steve shifts to be more comfortable. "Meditating. Cool, cool."

He closes his eyes and tries to focus on something like he did last night. It's a lot harder with footsteps overhead and Archie reading in the back again. Why does that cat read so much?

Okay. Focus, focus… he makes himself think of his friends again. That worked last time, sappy as it was. It takes less time to bring his focus to them, and when he cracks an eye open, the room has lit up. He has to squeeze his eyes shut.

"It's so bright in here!" he exclaims.

"That would be the ambient magic in the shop," says Mort, amusement lacing his voice. "Open your eyes. You'll adjust."

Steve pries his eyes open and blinks rapidly. The brightness fades slowly to be a lot less glaring. Mort is smiling, his own aura flaring around him like – like those things on the sun that look like loop-de-loops. It's way more multi-coloured than Toby's or Krel's, more on par with Aaarrrgghh!'s.

"You have a lot of friends," he blurts.

Mort laughs. "Well, I've been around for a while."

"Do you see auras all the time?" asks Steve.

Mort nods. "I do. It's very easy to tune down and ignore once you're used to it. I learned very young. My aunt is a wizard – well, technically a sorceress, but no one cares about that sort of thing nowadays. We all use wizard. Anyway, she taught me from a young age."

"That's so cool," says Steve. "Did she help you teach Douxie?"

"Douxie has never met her," says Mort. "My aunt and I don't exactly… get along these days. Let's call it a difference of opinions and leave it there."

"Oh," says Steve. Mort masks his sour expression with a warm smile. Steve hesitates. "I, uh. Kinda get it. My birth dad was a real buttsnack."

"In the end, we all have to build our own families." Mort holds out a hand as if for a high-five. Steve meets him in the middle, and they hold for a few seconds and separate. Steve's palm is painted with a deep bronze and Mort's is coloured golden. "And I think we tend to build ourselves pretty great families. Don't you?"

Steve thinks of his mom and Coach, of the friends he's known since he was a kid, of the friends he's made through all this weirdness. Seamus and Logan. Jim and Claire and the trolls. Eli and Toby and Krel and Aja.

"Yeah," he says. "I think we do."