Chapter 2

The Marks burned on his skin as his father pressed the stele against his back, between the shoulder blades. Daniel's muscles tensed and he bit back a cry of pain. His father had warned him it would hurt, but he hadn't said how much. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. Then the pressure was gone and the burning sensation left with it.

"I told you he was too young," chided his mother. She handed him his shirt.

"He's not too young," Father replied. "I told you. I was this young, myself. It's what our family does."

"That doesn't mean it should be done."

Surprising even himself, Daniel said, "I want to do it."

After a moment's pause, Father answered, "You see, that settles it. The lad wants to."

Mother bit back her distaste and nodded.

Daniel looked up at his father with solemn dark eyes. "What's next, Father?"

Daniel sat up slowly and looked around. His room was still dark with night. The only light in the room came from moonlight filtering in around the edges of his curtains. His stele was on his desk next to the book detailing the Romanov dynasty that he'd been reading. The czars of Russia were rather interesting to him. He looked back at his bed. Jonah slept at the foot like a little cat. He'd been sleeping in Daniel's room for the last few days.

Daniel knew that the little boy used to sleep in Jacob's room fairly often, so he didn't object. Besides, Jonah seemed to like it when he told him bedtime stories in his Irish accent. That was nice. Most of the time, having the lingering traces of an Irish accent in Boston made him feel like an outsider, so it was a relief to know that someone found it pleasant.

He fingered the chain around his neck and started to think about the dream. He had been eight then, and it had happened only a few months before his parents had sent him away. On the first day, he had received the Voyance rune, the one all Shadowhunters had on the back of their hand. Most of them, however, had not received it until they were eleven or twelve. The Marks were often more painful if given younger, and it was not commonplace for children as young as Daniel had been to start training. Except in the Ravenkey family. His father had insisted that Ravenkey children had received their first Marks at eight, and begun training at the same age for generations.

There was something odd about that. At the time, he'd only been thinking to make his father proud, and the thought of being more advanced than other boys his age had pleased him immensely. But now, looking back on it, he couldn't see why it was necessary. The Seelie Queen's words, calling his a "dark family," teased at him. But there was nothing particularly dark about it to Daniel, either. It had hurt a little; that was all. He shook his head and fingered the chain around his neck. He looked at Jonah again. He was sound asleep.

Careful not to make any noise, he opened his closet door and removed his gear. Then he stepped into the bathroom and started to change. He left the door open just a sliver to avoid causing it to click. If Jonah woke up, Daniel would be stuck in his room, with his dreams chasing his memories. It would be well worth the scant effort he was putting in to avoid that. In fact, he had decided, it would be worth a lot more than that for the chance to clear his head and focus on something clear-cut and simple. He folded his pajamas neatly and set them in the corner of the room. Leaving the bathroom, he picked up his stele, his Sensor, and a witchlight. Then he exited the bedroom.

Of course, he would have to stop by the weapons room to pick up a seraph blade or two. He started in that direction, stopped, and headed in the opposite direction. Five steps later he stopped again and cursed under his breath. He looked back, then forward, and headed towards Katya's bedroom. When he arrived, his hand hesitated just before the door. Then he knocked as softly as he could – and still be heard – and whispered her name. He did this four times before she opened the door.

Her hair was down and slightly tangled, and her eyes were groggy and tired. They were also still somewhat red from all the crying she'd been doing in the last few days. Daniel felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He had not cried once for Jacob's death. He had wanted to, at times, but he felt too hollow, and there were no tears. Katya looked him up and down. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"What're you doing?" she whispered, almost furiously.

"Going hunting. I need to clear my head…Come with?" Unexpectedly, she started to laugh. "What?"

"It's just that…when most boys come to a girl's room in the middle of the night, that's not what they want."

Daniel blushed. "You know I'm not…not like that."

She laughed again. "You're cute when you're embarrassed. You get all Irish."

"I'm always Irish."

"Okay, you sound more Irish. Your accent gets stronger."

He sighed. "Anyway, are you coming or not?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. After a moment, she said, "All right. Just give me a few minutes to get ready. I'm a mess."

"Yes, you are," Daniel replied by way of revenge.

"Also not what boys usually say to girls, Ravenkey."

"Well, I'm sorry if you're disappointed."

"Did I say that?"

"You sounded disappointed."

"Oh shut up and let me get dressed." She pointed at her bed. "Sit. Stay."

He shrugged and sat down. "I suppose when we leave, it will be, 'Mush'?"

Katya's back was turned to him, but he knew she was rolling her eyes.

True to her word, it only took a few minutes for her to dress and prepare her things. They had Marked each other while they were still in her room, and their upper bodies were twined with intricate black runes. Now they stood in the weapons room, surveying the choices. There were weapons of every variety, but they both decided for the most basic of Shadowhunter weapons – two seraph blades each. One, they each left in their belts with their steles and, in Daniel's case, a knife. The other they kept in one hand, ready to be named at any moment.

Once they had left the Institute, Daniel carried his witchlight in the other hand, and Katya carried her Sensor. They navigated the streets under the calm night and the charm of a glamour, tuning out the ambient chatter of Boston's nightlife. Everything seemed to be safe and in tune in the immediate area. Not even the sounds of a mundane fight could be heard. They proceeded onwards, towards Cambridge. Moonlight illuminated oxidized metal adorning the bricks, and reflected off the windows of shops. They passed a convenience store; walked down a little farther. The Harvard Bridge was close now, and once they crossed it, they would be on MIT's campus.

The Sensor pulsed at the edge of the Bridge. Daniel and Katya looked around sharply and named their blades. Nothing was visible, and most likely nothing would be until it attacked. Daniel raised the blade and stepped onto the Bridge. Nothing happened. They glanced around carefully and then took a few steps forward. The two exchanged a tense look and kept moving. Then, Daniel extended a hand to stop Katya. He gestured to his left.

She muttered, "There's nothing – "

Then the water exploded from beneath them. They both jumped back as a demon landed on the edge of the bridge. It had a sharp fin in the middle of its back, rather like a shark, and thick, ropy appendages with three fingers each. They had wickedly sharp claws at each end. Its eyes were milky and seemed unfocused, but its mouth was open and its tongue flicked out, like a snake's. Daniel and Katya started to circle it in opposite directions. It made a sound somewhere between a hiss and a growl and leaped directly at Katya.

She flipped out of the way at the same time that another demon jumped out from the other side of the bridge. Daniel turned just as it was about to land on him, rolled beneath, and slashed at it from behind. It evaded his strike and struck at him. He back flipped and landed exactly on the two-hundred-sixty-fourth Smoot marking. Whoever had thought, Daniel mused in a split second, to measure the length of a bridge by the height of a man named Smoot was a genius. The next second, he pushed of the side of the bridge to jump around the demon and saw a third demon six Smoots ahead of him.

"Katya!" he shouted. "Smoot 271!"

By some miracle, she understood him and managed to cut off the arm of the new demon as it lashed out in her direction. Daniel ran closer to Katya, drawing his demon with him. As it bounded towards him, he pushed off the wall again, but this time caught its fin and used that to launch him onto its back. From there, he raised his seraph blade high and plunged it into the demon's neck, jumping off before too much blood could spatter on his gear. One demon down.

The one with the missing limb was next, falling straight into Katya's trap. She dodged it easily and neatly decapitated it. Some blood spattered her arm, but the burns wouldn't be bad. The gear kept most of it from reaching her skin.

Now she and Daniel confronted the third and final demon from opposite sides. It faced Katya, so Daniel lunged at it. It swiped at him with a back claw, and he spun out of the way. Katya slashed at it but missed as it swung to face Daniel. Daniel rolled beneath it as it jumped, and came up neatly on the other side. He sidestepped quickly to keep it cornered. It was still focused on him. Katya raised her blade and moved in for the kill.

"Hey!" a voice called from behind her.

She turned on instinct at the figure running at them. So did the demon, pouncing and pinning Katya beneath it. She shrieked, more out of surprise than fear. Without so much as a glance towards the interrupter, Daniel leaped at the demon and tackled it off Katya. They rolled from the momentum until they collided with a shock against the wall of the bridge, causing Daniel to drop his seraph blade. He cursed.

Then, he kicked the demon and reached for the blade, but a claw raked into his side. He flailed backward again, trying to knock the demon away from him. His strikes stunned the demon for less than a second, but that was all he needed to grab hold of the blade and flip over. He thrust it upward just in time for the demon to fall on top of it an impale itself. He grimaced as the blood ran down and soaked through his sleeves, sizzling against his skin as it did so.

Katya and the mystery figure freed Daniel and helped him up. He looked up to identify the figure.

"Leah Runeshade," he said with a tone of mild surprise.

She was a member of the Conclave who spent most of her time patrolling Quincy. He wondered what she was doing in this part of Boston.

"Daniel Ravenkey." She did not sound amused.

"Um, hello, Leah," piped up Katya. Leah sent her a withering stare.

Then she gave an equal glare to Daniel. "What, exactly, are you two doing out here?"

"Hunting demons," Daniel said, trying not to flinch.

She turned to Katya. "Does your father know?"

Katya looked down, giving Leah all the answer she needed.

"You could have been killed! You are fourteen and fifteen years old! You probably don't even know what kind of demons those were! What were you thinking? The last thing the Conclave needs right now is to have more children killed and thrown into the Charles!" Katya and Daniel both flinched. "You should be ashamed of yourselves. Anything could have gone wrong out here. Elijah is under enough stress as it is, and he shouldn't have to worry about the children under his care running off in the middle of the night. You're foolish and an embarrassment to the name of the Nephilim and – and Daniel, you're smoking."

Daniel nodded uncomfortably. The wound on his side was burning – actually starting to burn and smoke around the edges. It was making it hard to concentrate on how much of a disgrace he was. He grabbed Katya's arm to keep himself steady. Leah pulled out her stele.

"I suppose I had better heal you before you burn to death."

She sounded slightly resentful of the inconvenience. All the same, she slapped an iratze on him. The wound started to close, and the pain faded quickly. Daniel let go of Katya and stood upright, sighing in relief.

"Now," Leah continued, "we're heading back to the Institute before you can trip and fall on your own blades, or else catch fire again."

She pocketed her stele and grabbed them each firmly by the arm to lead them away.

"How could either of you, for one moment, think it was acceptable to do this?!" Elijah shouted while his sister, Lydia, stared them down.

"I, er, I…" Daniel had no answer. He hadn't been thinking of that when he decided to go hunting.

"Were you even thinking at all?" Lydia added.

Katya answered, "N-not really, Aunt Lydia. We just – "

"You just what?" snapped Elijah. "You thought you'd play heroes and go kill some demons? You thought you'd roam around the city at night, and you'd just happen to bring along all your gear and your weapons?"

He was white with anger, and Daniel had never seen him looking like this. Not three years ago during the Dark War, not when Jacob had died… This was different.

"No, Elijah," Daniel said softly.

"No, of course not," he repeated sarcastically. "You could both have died! Do you know what that would have done to us – to the Conclave? Did you even give a thought to Jacob when you left? I thought better of both of you – especially you, Daniel! I always thought you were responsible, but it seems I was wrong."

Now did not seem like a good time to Daniel to mention that it had all been his idea.

Instead, he said, "I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' doesn't cover it!" Lydia yelled. "'Sorry' wouldn't bring you back to life or make your hearts start beating again. I expect you both to go back up to your rooms and stay there until I tell you otherwise – even if that's next week! And we will be having a serious discussion about this later. You're both suspended from all training until further notice."

"But Aunt Lydia," Katya protested weakly.

"No arguments," Elijah commanded. "Do as your aunt says."

Katya and Daniel both nodded timidly.

"Now off to bed – both of you!"

They scampered up the stairs together and separated as they went down the hall. Daniel heard the click of Katya's door, and glanced over his shoulder to see if Lydia or Elijah were following him. There was no one in sight. He turned his doorknob and started to open the door, but then clicked it shut on impulse and turned to sneak back down the stairs. He renewed his rune for silent walking just to be sure.

Fortunately, no one was waiting for him on the staircase, and he crept back down to the first floor. He glanced around the corner. Lydia and Elijah were still there, and he pulled back quickly, lest they see him. Moments later, they started to speak.

"You know this doesn't look good," Lydia said in a low voice.

Elijah answered tersely, "We'll manage."

"No, I don't think you understand what I mean."

"Well, explain then," he snapped.

Lydia took a deep breath. "They couldn't give us an answer for why they were out. This isn't the first time Daniel's been unaccounted for, but we never thought it meant anything before. And surely you think they would know better, after Jacob…?"

It was as if Daniel couldn't breathe. What was she suggesting? True, he hadn't been able to explain why they'd gone hunting, but that was simply because his best reason was that he wanted to. He hadn't considered the consequences or the danger when he'd decided to do it. He'd just wanted to get out. And usually when he was gone, it was just to buy more mundane books. He kept it a secret, except from Katya, because most Shadowhunters were so disdainful of mundanes.

"They're kids, under a lot of stress. They made a mistake."

"You ought to know better than that, Elijah. Daniel's always been so level-headed. You said so yourself. It's not like him to do something like this, without thinking of the consequences."

"It's also not like Jacob to be dead." Elijah's voice broke on the last word. "Daniel's a good boy. He wouldn't be involved in…things."

Lydia hesitated but then pressed on with her lecture. "You have to consider his…history. What with what he did tonight, and that, who knows? We don't know what it was like for him before he came here."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Daniel's legs felt shaky. He wanted to go back upstairs, but he couldn't make himself move. This made no sense.

Elijah answered in a low, wavering voice. "No…It couldn't be."

Daniel heard movement, and he jolted back to life. He sprinted up the stairs before either of them could see him and locked himself safely back in his room. He looked over his shoulder. Jonah was still sleeping like a cat at the foot of the bed. Daniel wondered briefly if he had woken up at all while he was gone. Probably not. He was sound asleep and in the same position he had been in when Daniel left.

Mechanically, Daniel walked into his bathroom and stripped himself of his gear. He turned on a light stream of water from the faucet and used it to splash cold water on his face and hair. It did nothing to wake him up. He was still trapped in the blank idea that Lydia's accusation made no sense. He could not have been involved in what she had suggested. He had loved Jacob as he would have a real brother. Jacob had done his best to make Daniel feel welcome and included when he first arrived at the Institute. Surely, Lydia and Elijah could not believe that he would ever hurt any of them.

He reached for his pajamas and pulled them back on. Then he slid back into bed without disturbing Jonah and laid his head upon the pillow. For a long time, he did not sleep. And when he did, his dreams were filled with rivers and demons, lies and truth, humans and faeries.

It wasn't that Daniel was angry with them; it was, well, that he was angry with them. He'd done his best for six years to become part of the family and to be a good Shadowhunter. He had missed his family and tried not to show it, and he had genuinely grown to care for the Silverwells. So actually, he decided, he wasn't angry after all. He was seething.

He had been sitting in the library for two hours, waiting for his tutor to come, when he realized that Lydia had suspended all forms of his training – including his education. When he'd figured that out, he'd promptly re-shelved the book he'd been reading to pass the time and stalked out, trying not to mutter profanities under his breath. It had been getting harder and harder during the past five days.

He would hear voices at breakfast, all of which would stop as he appeared in the doorway. He would catch glimpses of Lydia watching him as he read in the library, as if his reading were somehow sinister. Elijah would observe him as he tuned the cello in the music room and raised his bow to play. Elijah had never much cared for music before, and Daniel didn't think he'd developed a sudden appreciation for moody classical pieces. No, Elijah was definitely spying on him.

Staying in his room didn't help, either. He had a modicum of privacy in there, but the moment he came out, Elijah or Lydia would watch him like a hawk. That, or he would find them whispering to each other in another room, or a hallway. They always stopped when he arrived. They were frosty, too. Katya had put it down to their escapade in the night, but Daniel knew it wasn't just that. Neither of them treated Katya like a pariah. Clearly Daniel had been blamed for everything. Of course, he had come up with the idea to go hunting in the middle of the night, but he had had nothing whatsoever to do with Jacob's death.

Daniel stalked with a vengeance down the hall and back to his room. As he stepped inside, he realized that his t-shirt had slipped to reveal the chain with the Seelie Queen's pendant. He pulled the edge quickly back over it. More than ever, he knew he couldn't allow the Silverwells to see it. The suspicion would never pass if he did. Association with the Fey Folk would damn him as surely as Lucifer's pride.

He picked up his Russian history book again, and then promptly threw it down – on the bed, so as not to attract attention. He dropped down and looked under his bed for another book that might interest him, but none grabbed his attention. He almost picked out Divine Comedy – in the original Italian, of course – but then decided he would rather burn it than read it. So that was that.

He stood up, frustrated, and suppressed the urge to scream. That would bring someone running, if they weren't both already at his door. Instead, he pulled open his dresser drawer and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and underwear. Then he headed into his bathroom for a cold shower. It might clear his head, and that would be a good thing. If he didn't calm down soon enough, he was going to smash his window with his bare hands and then break his desk and throw the pieces out. And he liked that desk, so the shower was definitely a better alternative.

The cold water felt like a gentle rain. Not a short summer rain like they had in Boston, or one of their freezing, fierce storms, but more of a soft spring patter. It felt like home – like Ireland – when everything was turning so green again after the winter. He closed his eyes and remembered the sweet emerald hills that had rolled on all around his family's estate. He remembered rolling down them with a sister he had not seen for six years. Rachel. She would be eighteen now, with all the rights of an adult with the Clave. She would not be the solemn little girl he remembered who had only smiled when they played together on the hills. Rachel would be a woman now, perhaps slender and willowy like their mother, but with their father's steel. That was how she had always been. Their mother's looks and their father's disposition. She would have understood him. They all would have. Who cared about their history, anyway? He didn't know anything about that. He just knew that his family had loved him.

He stepped out of the shower and pulled on his pants. His skin felt cool and light, so he didn't bother with picking out a new shirt. He only glanced briefly at the patterns of runes and scars twining across his upper body, and then turned and left the bathroom. He flopped wearily onto his bed and started to play with his pendant, turning it back and forth and holding it up to the light at different angles. It seemed to focus the light extremely well, so he let it rest against his sternum again before he could light something on fire. That would do nothing to help his status with Elijah and Lydia.

Not long later, Elijah knocked on his door and called him up to dinner.

He called that he was coming and rooted around in his drawers until he found a new t-shirt and a button up that would cover the chain. He pulled them on hurriedly and flung open the door. He nearly collided with Elijah, who was still standing just outside.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking down.

Elijah only grunted in reply. Daniel looked at him uncertainly, and then began the ascent to the dining room. After about two steps, Elijah started to follow him. It gave Daniel the uneasy feeling that he was being escorted, like a criminal. He resisted the urge to look behind or play with his pendant, instead trying to walk as if everything were normal and this new development didn't bother him. He was pretty sure it wasn't working.

They finally made it to the table, where the rest of the family was already waiting. Lydia watched him like a hawk as he took his usual seat and placed his napkin in his lap. Katya and Jonah both avoided looking at him, although Jonah kept peering up at him with squirmy little glances.

Everyone began eating in silence. Daniel felt more as if he had just entered a courtroom and was awaiting his trial. He barely even knew what he was eating as he tried to ponder what the older two Silverwells had told the younger two. He was reaching for his drink when Jonah couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Daddy and Aunt Lydia won't let me play with you."

He looked up sharply but said mildly, "Why's that, Jonah?"

Lydia tried to shush Jonah, but the little boy couldn't stop. "They told me I can't sleep in your room, either."

"Why did they say that?" Daniel repeated.

"Jonah!" Elijah said sharply. The boy sniffled and looked back down at his plate.

"Well, then?" Daniel pushed. "Why did you say that?"

They met each other's gazes unflinchingly. Daniel had to set down his glass to avoid crushing it in his fist. Elijah did not say anything. Daniel turned to Katya, who was still trying to pretend as if nothing was wrong.

"What did he say? Katya, what did they tell you?"

She looked between her elders and Daniel. Then, ignoring their warning looks, she answered, "They said you might have been involved in Jacob's…in what happened to Jacob. They said we can't trust you, and that we shouldn't spend time with you alone…They said it's too risky."

Daniel asked in a low voice, "Do you believe them?"

She looked at him, and then just shook her head. "I can't."

The sigh of relief would come later, but for now, he still wanted to break a window.

"And why did you say that? Tell me why!" Daniel burst out at his accusers. "What sign did I ever give you? By the Angel, tell me why!"

"Just look at you now! Don't think I never saw this coming!" Lydia replied.

"Look at me now? That's your answer – look at me now?"

Katya jumped in. "You just accused him of murdering someone he loved! What's he supposed to look like?"

Jonah started to cry. Everyone turned to him abruptly, as if they had forgotten that he was there.

"Go downstairs, Jonah," Elijah said in a low voice.

Jonah didn't move. Lydia grabbed him by the hand and took him down the stairs. In the silence, Daniel looked out the window at the darkening sky. His jaw was clenched so tightly it was starting to hurt, but he didn't know what to do. To start, he didn't know why he was under so much suspicion, because that all relied on what his family had done in the past. And he didn't know any of that. What, he wondered, could possibly make Elijah and Lydia think that he knew, given that his parents hadn't even told him why they were sending him away? And then…

"Why was it you?" he blurted out, just as Lydia was re-entering.

"What?" she and Elijah exclaimed in unison.

"Why did my family send me to you? How did you know them?"

Lydia glared at him. "Don't change the subject, Daniel."

"The first one was nonsense."

The room plunged into a deadly silence. Katya was gaping at Daniel – that was the sort of thing she might have said, but she never would have imagined that he could be so disrespectful.

Elijah growled, "Nonsense? Tell us, why is this nonsense?"

"Because I don't know what's going on! I don't know what signs you thought you saw, or who you think I am, or what I did to earn this! I don't know! You are making absolutely no sense!"

The slap echoed across the room. Daniel's head turned sideways towards his shoulder. His hand reached automatically for his cheek, but it was still numb to the pain. The silence descended again, but even Lydia looked shocked at what Elijah had done. In the six years that he had been with the Silverwells, none of them had ever laid a hand on him, except in training. As far as Daniel knew, Elijah had never hit any of his children.

"Don't play innocent," he said in a low voice. "Your family is much too good at that."

Daniel hesitated. His eyes were starting to water from the slap. "…Then they did that with me, too," he whispered. "They were always good. That's all."

He looked back up at Elijah. The man's eyes were unwaveringly cold. "I should never have listened to her. I should never have taken you."

"Father…" Katya implored.

"Go to bed, Katya."

"But Father…Daniel…I mean…"

"Listen to your father," Lydia said quietly.

Katya glared up at them both. Then she squeezed Daniel's arm and fairly ran down the stairs. The crash when she closed her door was audible from the dining room. Daniel flinched. Lydia walked over to Elijah and whispered something in his ear. He didn't react at first. Daniel's heart fluttered in his stomach and he bit his lip so hard it bled.

Finally, Elijah said, "I'll deal with you later. From now on, you're not to leave your bedroom unless I allow you to. Is that clear?"

Daniel nodded but couldn't meet Elijah's eyes. "Yes, sir."

Lydia grabbed him by the arm and marched him to his room without saying a word. She opened the door and pulled him inside. Glancing around, she located his stele, took it, and marched out. Then the door slammed shut and he was alone in the darkness.

Daniel found the switch on his lamp and flicked it on. He shrugged off the button-up and walked over to his window. The curtains were not drawn, and he could see a dim reflection in the glass. He looked young, pale, and scared. His eyes were wide and he appeared as if he had just witnessed a murder. The bruise on his cheek was already darkening, covering the area from his cheekbone to his jaw. It was darkest where the heel of Elijah's hand had struck him. Daniel lunged forward and pulled the curtains shut. Then he stood, staring at them, trying to process what had just happened. Trying to figure out if Elijah planned to send him away, or perhaps summon the Inquisitor.

It was possible. There was still and investigation going on. There hadn't been a funeral yet because the Conclave still felt they needed Jacob's body. Daniel was sure the Clave itself had heard of it by now, and he had heard that Robert Lightwood was not one to take things like this lightly. And if it happened, they would all know that Daniel was innocent, but they would also find out about Erion Rune and Daniel's visit to the Seelie Court. Neither of which would look particularly good for him, either.

Daniel laid his head down on his desk. Absolutely nothing seemed right, and he had the awful feeling that this was only just the beginning.

After several confused moments, he stood up and went to his door. The doorknob refused to even budge when he twisted it. Daniel groaned aloud. Lydia must have locked it with a rune after she had left. The only way he could get out now would be if he broke his window and jumped. But although he was confused, angry, grieving, and desperately tired, he was not suicidal. So he was stuck. Unless…he pulled out his pendant and looked at it again. He could leave if the Seelie Queen wanted him, and he very much desired to speak with her again. Of course, the question of how he got out would as good as incriminate him with the Silverwells, but maybe he wouldn't have to come back to the Institute. One could hope. Things would probably be better that way.

Okay, hello people of Earth. I'm happy to say, I've actually had time to work on this chapter, despite AP tests happening just last week. This is my last year, so I promise, that's the last time I'll use that excuse. I think. By the way, poor Daniel. I swear I'm not cruel to people in real life. Well, one-third of me isn't, at least. Thankfully, that's my dominant third. I'm hoping to get the next chapter out within the next few weeks, and I'm also restarting work on my other story, Dry Lightning, so check that one out, please. Now, if you don't mind, or even if you do, please review, follow, and/or favorite. But most especially - review. Thanks!

- Gael