Dear Diary,

Sorry about falling asleep on you there! It's a good thing you're an inanimate object instead of a real person, because it would have been a real jerk move to leave you on a cliffhanger like that if you were. I mean, could you imagine if this was a fanfic and I left my readers on that note? Anyways, where was I? Oh, right. Igor.

As soon as Igor announced that Boris had sent him, I made a spell circle and several tentacles comprised of abomination goo formed and wrapped itself around him. I gestured with a hand and telekinetically moved the goo so it was pinning him to the ceiling of the car. "What in God's name is happening right now?!" Igor shouted in an American accent. I probably should have suspected that something was happening based on that, but, in my defense, I'd been on a plane for hours and I was tired. Conducting a very advanced abominations spell, one that even Father (there was that stab of hurt again) would be impressed by, hadn't helped me in the energy department either.

I searched Igor for weapons and found none. "He's clean. We need to get out of here fast before his friends arrive."

"Yeah, about that," Grunkle Stan muttered, looking at the ground, looking ashamed. "I…kind of lied to you, Amity. Sorry about that. Boris isn't with the Russian mafia. He's an actor I hired. Igor's just a Lyft driver. He's Boris's cousin." I didn't know what this Lyft was, but even my tired brain was able to figure out the thrust of the statement.

Luz put her hands on her hips disapprovingly. "Why would you do something so risky, Grunkle Stan?"

"Risky?" Grunkle Stan asked, sounding shocked. "I just told you, Boris is just an actor. He wasn't really going to hurt you; he was just pretending!"

"Risky to Boris," I clarified. "I could have seriously hurt him!"

"Would someone let me down and explain what the…heck is happening here?!" Igor demanded. I could tell that he only refrained from swearing viciously because of the presence of children. I placed him back in his seat and dispelled the goo.

Grunkle Stan crossed his arms, clearly lost in thought. "How much would not giving an explanation cost me?"

"More than you can afford," Igor shot back. "Look, I know there's some…weird stuff going on in Gravity Falls. Boris tells me stories…and I know him. He's sane. He wouldn't make this stuff up."

Grunkle Stan sighed. "Look, they're family. Both of them. Amity's…not from around these parts. She's from somewhere else, somewhere where they can do things that maybe'd seem like magic to us. Look, Igor, we're not asking for anything more than a ride to our hotel. That's it, okay? I'll give you a little something extra cause of this mess and for your silence. And none of us will have to see each other again."

There was silence for a few moments. "I'm going to need a lot of beers to deal with this later," Igor muttered. "Hop in before I change my mind." Grunkle Stan put the luggage in the trunk and hopped in the front seat, while Luz and I hopped in the back. I remembered to put on my seatbelt, and felt very proud of myself for doing so. It was not an intuitive thing for me; seat belts (and, indeed, basic vehicular safety) was very much not a thing in the Isles.

It was late in the evening, but despite the darkness and rain, Igor navigated the highway (I think that was the name Luz had given for the large roads with tons of cars of them) leading to the Big Apple like a pro. We passed neighborhoods filled with houses, a park, a couple of parks, even a cemetery or two. And don't get me wrong, they were impressive enough. But everyone talked about New York like it was one of the most stunning places on the planet. These neighborhoods made Bonesborough look pathetic, but it wasn't as if they compared to Seattle.

Then we went through a very long tunnel. I later learned that we'd been crossing underneath a river, an impressive feat of engineering, even if the water wasn't boiling hot. And when we emerged, I began to see just why, out of all the apples in the world, New York was considered one of the biggest.

I've heard the nickname The City That Never Sleeps tossed around when describing New York, and when we emerged from the tunnel, I could see why. Despite it being late, the city was still bustling. There was a ton of traffic, people walking around as if it was a perfectly normal time of the day, and I could practically feel the energy of the city all around me. It felt like fire, a blazing light shining forth in the darkness. This, even more so than Bonesborough or Seattle, was a city with a soul. It was ugly at times, beautiful at others, but it was alive nonetheless.

The buildings were also more impressive than the ones we had previously seen from the highway. They were much more packed together, with barely, if any, space at all between them. There was something oppressive about the density of the space…yet also something beautiful too. I could understand why millions of people wanted to live here…and also why Luz's parents had ultimately chosen to leave. New York was so much. It felt like it could wear down on a person over time.

"We're on the island of Manhattan now," Luz explained to me. "New York has five boroughs or regions: Queens, which we passed through; Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, and Staten Island. Manhattan is where all the cool tourist stuff is. My parents grew up on this island."

I squeezed Luz's hand. "There's no one I'd rather be visiting this place with, Luz."

It took us a few minutes before the car arrived at our destination. It was an intersection I later learned was known as Times Square. It was really quite an extraordinary place. Large posters advertising what looked like maybe plays could be seen on the buildings. Even during the middle of the night, it was simply packed with people and cars, and it was just…amazing. Humans were so fragile compared to witches. They didn't have magic, it was easier to puncture their skin, they couldn't even digest a lot of the food in the Isles. And yet they built all of this. Times Square and, more generally, New York itself was a shout into the night that humanity was powerful, that it would not, could not be ignored. That it would remain until the end of time. Of course, all things ended. But that was a hard conclusion to reach from looking at Times Square.

"This place sure looks expensive, Grunkle Stan," Luz said with a frown on her face. As Igor stopped in front of a hotel that indeed looked quite expensive. More so than the one I had stayed at in Seattle, and that had been pretty expensive already. "We're…staying here legally, right? Cause I don't want to tangle with the cops."

Grunkle Stan just ruffled her hair and started helping Igor get our luggage out of the car, which was a less than reassuring answer, in my humble opinion. "Remember, you don't know us," Stan told Igor.

"Believe me, I dearly wish that was true," Igor retorted.

"Sorry about attacking you," I said. I meant it. In the end, it was Grunkle Stan's fault, of course, for lying to us. But just because someone may be responsible in a grander sense for something doesn't absolve me of responsibility for my own actions. Sure, Mother forced me to sever ties with Willow, but my actions still hurt her, and I accepted responsibility for them in the end.

Igor pointed at Grunkle Stan. "I don't know what your game is here. But if you get these kids hurt, you'll pay the price in the next life."

Grunkle Stan scoffed. "I think I crossed that bridge a long time ago. But don't worry, Igor. I'm going to protect these kids or die trying." Igor looked approving of this answer. After waiting to see that we all got in safely, he sped off, most likely going over the speed limit in the process.

Luz looked extremely impressed by the opulence of our surroundings. Having grown up in a ridiculously fancy manor myself, I was less impressed. I was used to such things. Grunkle Stan strode over to the check in desk and started chatting with the clerk while Luz and I waited on a couch and looked after the luggage. She seemed extremely skeptical of him at first, to say nothing of his, shall we say, wild appearance. But eventually, he seemed to win her over. I have no clue how, and I really don't want to know either.

"All right, I got us three rooms," Grunkle Stan said. Luz crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "I know the owner," he explained. I was seventy percent sure he was lying. "We're old friends. From, uh, high school." Luz just stood there, patiently. "Oh, all right! Dipper helped the owner out with a ghost problem last year, so he owed me a favor. I don't like talking about this stuff. People think I'm nuts."

"I am a witch, you know," I pointed out.

Grunkle Stan cracked a smile. "Yeah. Hard to remember that sometimes. Anyways, three rooms. You two ain't sleeping in the same room. I remember being a teenager. I'm in enough trouble as it is without you doing that stuff." Curse you, overly expressive blushing face!

"We haven't done that stuff," I stammered.

Grunkle Stan nodded. He believed me. "Yeah, well, whatever. I'm not a morning person. I'll get up at my own pace. Don't leave the hotel until I get up. And don't wake me up unless your lives're in danger. Got it?" I nodded. "Good. You're good kids. You both are. Remind me a lot of my niece and her wife. I mean, a lot. I'm rambling. That means it's time for bed. Let's get a move on."

We all went to our respective rooms, and that's when I started writing in you, Diary. And then I fell asleep while sitting at the desk. When I woke up, I went to the bed and slept there instead. And now it's morning and I'm finishing up this account.

Today, we're going to interrogate Matilda about Eduardo's murder. I'd never admit this aloud to Luz, Diary, but I don't think we'll find anything. Luz is hoping we find a smoking gnu, as Gus puts it, tying Havik to the murder, but I think Havik is too smart to have left evidence like that behind. A part of me hopes there isn't anything to find. New York is a sensationally beautiful city, and I'd like a chance to enjoy it without having to worry about anything.

But either way, I'll be there for Luz. You can be sure of that.

Yours faithfully,

Amity Blight

Dear Diary,

Well. To say that today was eventful was like saying airplanes are cool. Technically accurate, but also a gross understatement. I really hope no one ends up reading through you in the future, that's all I'll say for now, because, well, I don't want them to read my poems about how beautiful Luz is and how cute her round ears are and – why am I telling you this? I wrote all this in you. Moving on.

In sharp contrast to my last time in the Human Realm, I slept like a roc. From the moment my head hit the pillow to the moment I woke up, I slept the whole way through. I didn't dream of anything. Just lots of hours of blissful unconsciousness. Maybe the fact that it's easier for me to sleep now has something to do with the fact that I was briefly in an enchanted sleep (and an alternate version of me was in one for months)? Eh, who knows.

The point is, I was revved up and ready to go when I left my room and joined Luz for breakfast. The hotel served what they called a continental breakfast. I know that a continent is one of the landmasses that comprises the Earth's surface. I know that there are seven of them. I know the one I am standing on is called North America. What I do not know is what they have to do with breakfast. One of the foods offered was called French toast, which I am given to understand was named after a country on another continent. So perhaps it is an assortment of foods from different continents to impress travelers with food from their native lands? That's my best guess.

At any rate, if their goal was to impress me, they did not succeed, as I found the food mostly bland and tasteless. I much preferred the company. Then again, to be fair, when the company is Luz, I usually do. "Sleep well?" I asked her.

Luz shook her head. "I'm just too nervous. What should I say to her?"

"I think it's best if we let Grunkle Stan do the talking," I suggested. "He seems to be very good at that."

Luz sighed. "You're probably right."

"Course she is!" the voice of Grunkle Stan called out as he joined us at the table. I hadn't even seen him walk in the room. "I can talk anybody into anything. I can even talk Dipper into showering – sometimes, anyway." He pursed his lips. "Look, kid…I respect you for wanting to look into this. Someone did in one of my relatives, I'd go down any road to find out who did it. But…maybe now is not the best time for it?"

Luz crossed her arms, looking angry. "Now is the best time for it. Havik and Odalia are plotting something together. I don't know about you, but I think whatever they're planning, it'll be harder for them to do if he's under arrest for murder!"

"Is that what you think is going to happen?" Grunkle Stan asked, somewhat pityingly. I didn't like the tone he was using, but I couldn't disagree with the premise of his statement. In the Isles, people with money tended to get away with their crimes, even under the new system. In the Human Realm, it was no different. If anything, it was probably worse. "Luz…if there's evidence your dad left behind, it's been there for almost a decade. It'll keep. Why not wait until the heat's died down?"

Luz slammed her fist on the table, almost breaking her plate and making everyone in the room look at her. "I have been waiting since I was six! I'm not going to wait any longer! My dad said that Leo was paranoid and would have left behind written documentation, and asked him to hide it somewhere."

Grunkle Stan looked alarmed. "Your dad told you this? What, he mentioned all this in casual conversation to you when you were six?"

"Luz got stuck in an alternate timeline for a while," I said hurriedly. The last thing I wanted was for Grunkle Stan to think Luz was crazy. "One where her dad was alive."

"Ah," Grunkle Stan said, sounding confused, but not disbelieving, thank the Titan.

"Besides," Luz added, "I'm going to be in enormous trouble with Mami when I get back. I don't want to go back emptyhanded."

Grunkle Stan let out a sigh. He knew that persuading Luz to not pursue this lead was futile, but his sense of honor (which he had, despite vast appearances to the contrary) demanded that he try at least a few things in his rhetorical arsenal before he gave into this risky plan. "Look, how's about I go and do this stuff while you two go sightseeing? You could see the Statue of Liberty! Central Park! You nerds like museums, right? Plenty of those here!"

I didn't say anything. I didn't trust myself to say anything, because I frankly agreed with Grunkle Stan. There was no reason to put ourselves at risk. And it couldn't be too risky for us to wander the city by ourselves, as long as we stayed in the areas frequented by tourists. I really, really wanted to see all those things Grunkle Stan had mentioned. It seemed such a pity to be in one of the world's largest cities and not do fun touristy stuff. We'd done that in Seattle.

But I didn't need any training in Mother's chosen track to know how Luz would react, and sure enough, she did not disappoint. "No," she said firmly. "This is my dad we're talking about here. I need to see this through."

Grunkle Stan scowled at her, but nodded. He probably figured that if he left us unattended, we'd get up to all kinds of mischief, maybe put ourselves in further danger. This was not true. Well, at least I didn't think it would be true, not if I had anything to say about it (which, to be fair, given who our enemies were, I might not). Sightseeing sounded much more appealing than sneaking off and getting into trouble and I knew all sorts of ways to convince my girlfriend to follow my lead.

After breakfast was over, we left the hotel and got into a taxi, which apparently was a service where people paid a driver to take them places. Mother would never have been caught doing something so crass. I enjoyed myself immensely. Airplanes were surely the most awesome form of transportation mankind had ever come up with (well, aside from their spacecraft, but it's not like I'd ever find myself on one of those), but cars were pretty cool too.

Our journey took us to a neighborhood known as Greenwich Village. The name was something of a misnomer – one would never mistake this part of the city for a village – but it was certainly a lot more sedate than the hustle and bustle of Times Square. We got out in front of a building mostly comprised of bricks. It looked puny next to the buildings around Times Square, but it was still several stories high.

We followed Grunkle Stan up several flights of stairs, and he knocked on the door to Matilda Axel's apartment. There was no answer. Grunkle Stan frowned. "I don't like the looks of this," he muttered. He tried the door. It was unlocked. We went inside, slowly and carefully.

The apartment had been completely ransacked, papers and books scattered everywhere, objects smashed and strewn about the place with abandoned. A burglary, it would appear at first glance. And on a couch, staring at absolutely nothing, was an old woman. There were two holes in her chest. Matilda Axel looked shockingly composed for a corpse. She had faced her death with the dignity that had been denied to the rest of her apartment.

"How did they know we were coming?!" Luz said, sounding like she was on the verge of hysteria. Her face was very pale. "You can't tell me this was a burglary, Grunkle Stan!"

"No, Luz," he said slowly. "You're right. They got to her. But how would they have known to strike at her specifically…unless…they heard us talking about it. Luz, your cell phone…it's the same one you brought to the Isles, right?"

Luz nodded and took her cell phone out of her jacket. She rarely went anywhere without it. Her eyes widened as she realized the implications of what Grunkle Stan was saying. "You think they've been bugging me?!" Huh? What did bugs have to do with anything? "Oh, God. They've been listening to my conversations with Amity. With Mami!"

"It may be worse than that," Grunkle Stan said grimly. "They may have been listening to you when you're not talking on the phone with someone, when you just have it on." Luz's hand started trembling. "We have to destroy it. Just in case. I mean, I could be paranoid. They could have known about her the whole time and they just chose now to clean house…but…"

Luz gave her cell phone to Grunkle Stan, who smashed it against the wall repeatedly until it was a mess of circuitry. I didn't see any insects within it. But then again, I had no clue what to look for either. Luz looked sad, mourning the loss of her phone for a few moments, and then her eyes widened. "David! They could be after him next!"

Grunkle Stan pulled out his own cell phone and put it on speaker, then called up David. "Who is this?" a man's voice said on the other end of the line.

"Who is this?" Grunkle Stan retorted.

"Agent Ian Crawford, FBI. We're investigating Mr. Axel's death as a homicide. Were you a friend of his?"

Grunkle Stan was tempted to hang up the phone, I could see, but he restrained himself. "Not exactly. I'm visiting New York with my stepdaughter. Her dad and his dad were friends, and we thought we'd drop by to see if David had any pictures of her dad. He passed away a long while back, you see."

"I see," Agent Crawford said, clearly not meaning a word of it. "Well, if you could tell us where you are, we'll send a car to pick you up so we can ask you some questions. Purely routine, you understand."

"Ask him if he knows Carl Johnston," Luz whispered to Grunkle Stan. "He's the dad of a friend of mine. He works in the New York office."

"Sure, I'll give you our location," Grunkle Stan said. He could lie very convincingly. Even I would have fallen for it if I hadn't known better. "By the way, kind of a small world, but Luz here says her friend's dad works in your office. Agent Carl Johnston?"

"Sure, I know Carl," Agent Crawford responded. "Good guy. Always talking about his kid. We're all getting kind of sick of it, actually!"

Luz shook her head and Grunkle Stan hung up the phone immediately. "Agent Johnston works out of the Seattle office," Luz explained. Grunkle Stan nodded approvingly. "I don't know who that guy was, but he was not an FBI agent."

Grunkle Stan scowled. "All right, then. Let's get back to Gravity Falls."

"What?" Luz said, sounding absolutely appalled. "I can't believe you! She was murdered! She had to have known something! And they were looking for something – something that maybe they didn't find. You brought us here to investigate Dad's murder, and –"

"I didn't think you'd find anything!" Grunkle Stan shouted at her. Luz looked taken aback. In a much calmer voice, Grunkle Stan explained. "Luz, I honestly thought this was a wild goose chase." Human metaphors, Diary, are just the worst. They don't make any sense. What even is a goose? "I thought you'd have a nice chat with the old lady, swap some stories about your dad. Then we'd take Amity to see the Statue of Liberty and keep her mind off her mom for a while. I didn't expect this!" He gestured at Matilda's rotting carcass.

Luz took a few deep breaths to steady herself. "Grunkle Stan, please. We have to find the evidence. If they did this to Dad's partner's family, what do you think they'd do to his family? To me?"

"That's exactly why we have to go back to Gravity Falls!" Grunkle Stan retorted. Luz put her hands on her hips. "Right. So you're not going to listen to me. Okay, Luz. You start running the show, then. What do we do now?"

Luz blinked. She looked disturbed, because she knew the same thing I knew: that she didn't have an answer. Luz had no way forward. Whatever Matilda and David knew died with them; there was no way we could commune with their spirits, if such a thing existed. Not in the Human Realm, which had no magic, anyway.

Grunkle Stan put a hand on her shoulder. Luz shrugged it off. "Kiddo, I understand you're frustrated. But you don't win all the battles. This is a war. There'll be other opportunities later." He tried to put on a happy face in the hopes that it would make Luz happy. It did not. "How's about I take you kids to the Met?"

"There's a murderer potentially after me, and you want to take us to see art?!" Luz shouted.

"They made this look like a burglary," Grunkle Stan said patiently, pointing at the chaos all around us for emphasis. "That means whatever they're doing, they're still afraid of having the cops on their tails. And that means they're not invincible. They have weaknesses, and you will find them, Luz. But in the meantime, we have to not get killed. And the best way to do that is to be in a public place, in one of the biggest museums in the world, where they won't dare to attack us. Okay?"

I leaned in and kissed Luz on the cheek. I understood why she was so frustrated, but I also knew that Grunkle Stan was right. "It'll be fine, mi valiente defensora. I think it'll do you good – do us both good – to have a distraction for a while." Luz sulked for a few more seconds, but then nodded.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art, colloquially known as the Met, is said to be one of the most impressive art museums in the whole world. One of the thing that constantly amazes me about the Human Realm is how diverse it is. True, there are many, many species in the Isles. But within each species, people are mostly the same. The Human Realm has hundreds of countries, all with their own distinct culture and art.

We left the apartment, got into another taxi, and drove to the Met. And the Met is just simply incredible. The Bonesborough Art Museum doesn't even begin to compare to it. And Grunkle Stan was definitely right – there was plentiful security, to protect the paintings, one supposed. There was no way our enemies would dare to try to kill us there.

Grunkle Stan, improbably, turned out to be something of an art snob. He swore up and down that it was only due to the influence of Mabel. But it was hard to believe him when he started ranting about things like Fuseli being one of the most unappreciated artists of the nineteenth century or how Northern Renaissance paintings were manifestly superior to their Italian equivalents. Luz found the whole thing dreadfully amusing, and I was pretty sure she was planning on using it as blackmail against him at some later date. As for me, I had no idea what Grunkle Stan was blathering about (neither did Luz), so I just appreciated the paintings for their beauty.

"Now this," Grunkle Stan said, gesturing at a relatively small (my hotel room isn't much bigger) structure that looked very ancient, "is the Temple of Dendur." The temple was situated inside a much bigger room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the adjacent park. "Built in 15 BC – that's over two thousand years ago, Amity – by Petronius, the governor of Egypt under Roman rule. It was dedicated to the gods Isis and Osiris. Isis was the goddess of magic."

"But her name is also being used by a terrorist group these days – completely unrelated – so you might not want to be tossing it around," Luz advised me.

I nodded politely at Grunkle Stan. He scowled at me, displeased that I was not consumed with awe towards the temple. Frankly, I'd liked the El Greco paintings better. "They took this thing apart, stone by stone, and shipped it here to save it from a flood! That's not impressive to you?"

"We could have done that with magic in less than a day, so, no, not really," I admitted. Grunkle Stan threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

Luz walked over to the window and I strode over to join her. "Mami must be so worried about me," she whispered. "I'm having all this fun, and I left her behind."

"Your mami will forgive you," I assured her. "She's good at that. I wish I had a mom half as good as yours was. Instead of her." I could barely even think about Mother without feeling fury and fear and…disappointment. Not in myself. In her. "I just don't understand why she is the way she is." Thankfully, Luz understood I was talking about my mother, not hers, now. "How can she not care about people? How could she just have killed Father like he was nothing, Luz?"

"I don't know," Luz said quietly. "What I do know is you're not her. No matter how much she tried to make you her, you're not. Even at your worst, you still had your heart. You could have kept me from learning magic." I flushed from shame at even thinking about the Everlasting Oath I had made Luz take, the one that had nearly taken her dream away from her. "You chose to unbind the oath. You didn't do it because you thought you had something to gain. You didn't do it because you had a crush on me – heck, you couldn't stand me. You did it because it was right."

I suddenly grabbed Luz by both shoulders and pulled her into a passionate kiss. "Te amo, mi novia. Thank you. I needed to hear all that." We held each other for some time.

"Come on, can we get a move on already?" Grunkle Stan shouted. He looked very uncomfortable.

I strode over to him. "Do you have a problem with us, Pines? Because if you do, let's hear it." I knew a lot of people of his generation had been very much against girls dating. With how stuck in the past he was, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if he was one of them.

"Of course I have a problem," he said. "You're being all mushy with each other."

"It's the modern day, Grunkle Stan," Luz said coldly. "Two girls can be all mushy with each other."

"Well, I can't stand all these saccharine – whoa there! Hang on! You thought I was upset at the whole 'two girls' thing?" I nodded. "Let's get one thing straight, missy. I hate saccharine displays of affection. It doesn't matter if you're gay or straight or whatever. I'm just not a guy who likes seeing all this emotion in public, okay?"

I felt embarrassed that I'd misunderstood Grunkle Stan's actions. I had judged him without giving him a chance to defend himself. "Even before Mabel explained all the nitty gritty with the gender stuff and the whatnot to me when she came out as…pansexual," he pronounced that word with meticulous precision, sounding as if he'd practiced it many times before getting it right, "I never had nothing against girls or guys who liked each other. Or both, Luz. Now that's not my thing, never was. But the way I see it, we can't help how we're made, right?"

Luz swept Grunkle Stan up in a tight hug. "Now see, this is what I'm talking about," he said gruffly, yet I note that he did not make any move to extricate himself from it. "Mushy! All right, enough sentimental nonsense. It's time you experienced a real New York hot dog, Amity. It'll be an experience you'll never forget!"

I didn't know what a hot dog was, but thus far, Grunkle Stan hadn't led us too far astray. Well, in the culinary department, at least. So I followed him out of the museum and across the street, trusting in the crowds to keep us safe, to a cart where a vendor was selling a tube-shaped brownish red food ensconced in what looked like some kind of bread. Grunkle Stan bought us each a hot dog with some sort of yellow and red fluids on it. It looked somewhat disgusting, if I may be frank with you for a second, Diary. But I was feeling adventurous so I eagerly chowed down on it. I found the whole thing somewhat underwhelming after how much Grunkle Stan had built it up. But Luz liked it, so that was good. Grunkle Stan, interestingly enough, did not like it and started complaining about how the hot dogs were better when he was a kid growing up in Jersey.

"Now see, isn't this fun?" Grunkle Stan asked rhetorically. "Now, look, if anyone asks when we get home, just tell them we were sightseeing. And we'll blame it all on Ford. Somehow. I'll find a way to pin it on him. I'm good at that!" I rolled my eyes. I hoped he was joking. He sounded like he was, but I'm not always very good at figuring out whether or not people are being sarcastic, especially humans.

I took a few moments to just revel in my surroundings. Before Luz had barreled into my life, I hadn't given humans much thought. Imperial propaganda asserted that they were bloodthirsty, uncivilized animals, incapable of true rational thought and needed to be ruled by witches. A part of me honestly believed they were a myth. But then I met Luz and I realized that the truth was far stranger and more beautiful than I had been led to believe.

Now I was in the Human Realm, in one of the foremost strongholds of its civilization, and it was just…beautiful. I could just be here. I had no expectations upon me. I wasn't expected to be a Blight. I wasn't expected to get perfect grades. I could just be me for once. And it was beautiful.

"All right, let's see here," Grunkle Stan said, pulling out a map that I hadn't seen him buy. I hoped he hadn't pickpocketed it off someone. "We can go to the Statue of Liberty or the New York Public Library's main branch next."

"LIBRARY! LIBRARY! LIBRARY!" both Luz and I chanted simultaneously. Grunkle Stan gave us a fond smile for a fraction of an instant, which he quickly masked with a scowl. "Library it is," he said.

He hailed a taxi, and I once more looked out the window, in awe at the buildings around me. I don't think I'll ever get sick of looking at skyscrapers. "Say, Luz, you think there are any secret rooms in the library, like in the one back in…" I trailed off, realizing that the taxi driver was listening.

"In Vancouver?" Luz finished. "Gee, Amity, I have no clue." She sounded distracted, as if she was thinking about something.

"Not anymore," the taxi driver informed us, "but I've heard that there were once apartments inside the branch for the caretakers. Pretty cool, huh?"

Luz sat bolt upright. "Oh my God, Amity. That's it. That's where it is! Driver, can you take us to Washington Heights? The Fort Washington branch of the library?" The driver looked over at Grunkle Stan, who grunted and nodded. He turned off on another street and started driving to the west. When he got near a river, he started driving north. We drove north for quite a while – I had no idea Manhattan was so big – then we turned east again and soon enough, we were in front of a modest looking building.

Grunkle Stan gave the driver what seemed like a fairly large tip. "Anyone asks after us, we were never in this taxi, okay?" The driver shrugged. Maybe he'd just dealt with weirder people than Grunkle Stan. Maybe he was just willing to go along with anything Grunkle Stan said for the cash. In any case, he drove away, leaving us in front of the building.

"Right now, we're in the neighborhood Washington Heights," Luz began. "It's also known as Little Dominican Republic because of all the people who came here from that country." I knew that both of Luz's parents families had come to the United States from the Dominican Republic. "My dad grew up here. This library also had caretaker apartments. I did research on some of the places he mentioned when I was in the other dimension – the apartments, unlike the ones in the main branch, are still intact. If he hid something anywhere, it'd be here."

Grunkle Stan looked impressed. "Sounds reasonable. Look, you stay downstairs, and I'll take a look around the apartments."

"Oh, come on, Grunkle Stan," Luz complained. "It's not dangerous up there!"

"It's not about the danger. I can con my way up there, but it'd be a lot more difficult to explain what you're doing with me."

Luz blinked. "Oh. Right. That makes sense."

The three of us went into the library. I was surprised at how old it looked. The Seattle Public Library had been resplendently modern. This library looked like it hadn't been updated in decades. While Grunkle Stan somehow finagled the clerk at the front desk into taking him up a rickety flight of stairs, I perused the books, trying to see if there was anything that looked interesting to me. With the exception of the Good Witch Azura series, of course, I hadn't exactly clicked very much with human literature. I found it difficult to connect with.

"Luz, any suggestions?" I asked her. She didn't answer my question. Instead, she looked past me at a man who had just entered the room. He was dressed in a heavy black overcoat, dark pants, and wore sunglasses. He looked to be around sixty with black hair which was obviously dyed and a black beard. He walked over to the desk and flashed some sort of badge at the clerk who had replaced the one who went upstairs with Grunkle Stan. She looked impressed by it, and pointed up the staircase. The man went up the staircase.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked Luz.

"That that's 'Agent Crawford,'" she made air quotes, "and Grunkle Stan is in horrible danger?" I nodded. I cast a bard spell on the clerk that would leave her confused for a few moments and the two of us slipped past her while she was distracted.

The first thing I noted about the apartments was that they were in terrible shape. They had clearly been abandoned for some time. No one had bothered cleaning them or giving them any sort of upkeep in any way whatsoever. No wonder Eduardo had thought it would be a terrific hiding place.

The second thing I noticed was the fact that Crawford was holding Grunkle Stan and the librarian at gunpoint. Granted, this probably should have been the first thing I noticed, but my brain works bizarrely sometimes. It's who I am, and I've come to accept that about me.

I certainly was not going to accept this situation, though. Without thinking about the consequences, I conjured an abomination spear and hurled it at Crawford. He dodged it with much more limberness than I'd expected from a man of his age. He grabbed the librarian and held the gun to his head. "You conjure one more spell, and I blow his brains out," Crawford threatened. He had the same accent as Havik.

The librarian looked more astonished by my magic than scared of the fact that someone was threatening to murder him. "How did you do that?"

"Never mind that," Crawford barked. He released the librarian, but kept the gun aimed at his head. "Pines, where is it? I know you know where it is. So tell me!" Grunkle Stan could probably sense that Crawford meant business, because instead of stalling, he walked over to the corner of the room and pulled on a loose floorboard.

Luz let out a gasp as Grunkle Stan pulled out a box. She'd been right all along. We hadn't been chasing a wild goose at all – Eduardo really had left behind evidence. And now it was going to be taken right out of our grasp. We had come so close to our goal, and yet so far. Grunkle Stan handed the box to Crawford, who set it on the floor. He pulled out a small, rectangular object and pressed a button on it. A flame emerged from it.

"NO!" Luz screamed, and then out of nowhere, she tackled Crawford. Even though he was bigger than her, the sheer surprise of the attack caught him off guard and knocked him to the ground. The gun and flame-producing object skittered out of his hands. I picked up the gun and pointed it at his head.

"Where are Havik and my mother?" I demanded. "What are they planning?"

"Go ahead and shoot me, Blight," Crawford said with a smirk. "I don't think you can do it. And if you do, know what happens? My people'll come in here and they'll take you both. Or I can burn this evidence and walk away, and we'll live to fight again another day."

He was right. There were no options available to me. None but one. So I pointed the gun at my own head.

"What are you doing, Amity?!" Luz screamed at me. "Amity, if your mom is controlling you somehow, you can fight it!"

"No one's controlling me," I informed her. I turned to face Crawford. "And no one ever will. I am a lot more afraid of what Mother will do to me than dying. I'd rather die free than live a slave." I took a step in Crawford's direction. "If I shoot myself, know what happens? Mother is going to blame you. Now I know what you're thinking. You'll just lie. But Mother is psychic. She will read your mind and sense that you're lying. And she will subject you to a fate so horrific that you will wish I had shot you here."

Crawford was silent for several moments. He knew I was right. But it was difficult for a man of his skill to admit to himself that he'd been bested by a child. "What do you want to know?" he said eventually.

"What's your name?" Luz asked.

Crawford laughed softly. "I've gone by a lot of names in my time. I almost don't remember the one my mother gave me. The one I'm known to by most is Swaard. It's Afrikaans for sword." He smirked at Luz. "A fitting name, considering that I'm my employer's most trusted assassin. His sword, if you will. I've carried out all sorts of missions for him…including a certain mission to Seattle nine years ago."

Luz's eyes widened in horror. "You mean…?"

He gave her a grin. "That's right, Luz. I'm the one who killed your father."

Luz pulled out a small notebook, her face utterly expressionless, and wrote a fire glyph. The one she conjured had a ten second delay, and it was perfectly capable of blowing Swaard's face off. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you right here, right now."

"Because it's what he wants, kid," Grunkle Stan said immediately. Luz blinked. Clearly, she had been expecting some sort of moral argument. "He's scared of going back to Odalia a failure. And honestly, from everything I've heard about her, I think whatever she's going to do to him is a lot worse than blasting him with a magic spell. He'd rather be dead than face her."

Luz drew a line through the spell, making it unusable, then put her notebook back in her pocket. "Why did you kill him?" she asked, her voice filled with pain.

"I was being paid," Swaard responded cavalierly. To him, it had just been another job, probably one of the many, many people he had killed that year alone. He hadn't spent a single second thinking about how Eduardo's death would affect his loved ones.

Luz just looked…broken by that answer. "You didn't even hate him?"

"Why should I?" Swaard said. "It's not like he ever did anything to me."

Luz's eyes twitched repeatedly. "Get out," she spat at him. "GET OUT NOW! I don't ever want to see you again!"

"But, Luz, we still need to interrogate him," I protested.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Luz shouted at Swaard, her voice filled with more hatred than I've ever heard from her before. I sighed and nodded at Swaard, who ran out of the room at top speed.

I dropped the gun on the ground. Luz walked over to me and shoved me. "Don't you ever do that again," she said. She sounded like she was barely holding herself together. "Not even as a bluff. I can't lose you! Not like I lost him. Please, Amity."

Before I could respond, the librarian cleared his throat. I had nearly forgotten about him. "Was that magic you were doing?" he asked me, his voice filled with awe. "I've always wanted to learn magic! Can you teach me?"

"I'm sorry, no," I responded. "Humans like you can't do magic." Only humans who were immensely resourceful like Luz could do it.

The librarian sighed. "Too much to hope for, I guess. Wow. Just…wow. I'm never going to forget this. This is the best day of my life. I'll just…go downstairs. Give you some privacy. Don't worry; I won't tell anyone. Lips sealed. You can trust me. Magic! Holy smokes…" He descended the staircase, leaving the three of us alone.

"You did the right thing, not killing him, Luz," Grunkle Stan said softly. "I know it doesn't feel like it now. But it's something you would have regretted for the rest of your life. Well, we got what we came for. Ready to see what's in the box?"

Luz grabbed the box and opened it. There was a journal inside, as well as several electronic devices – tape recorders, I later learned. Luz read through the journal, her eyes filled with both tears and enthusiasm. This was what Eduardo had died for. And the journal did not disappoint. It was filled with accounts of eyewitness testimony that showed that Havik had personally participated in a massacre in a village in Sierra Leone. One account mentioned him having shot a pregnant woman in the head, just for kicks. There was enough evidence in the journal alone to get Havik put away for life, hopefully, to say nothing of ruining his public reputation forever.

On the second to last page was a letter to Camila. Luz skipped past it and sure enough, on the last page, there was a letter to her. Luz has given me permission to reprint it within you, Diary. It read:

My dear lucecita,

I hope, very much, that we're reading this letter together, and you're making fun of me for being so paranoid. But I suspect I am not that lucky. If I am dead, then I deeply apologize. I apologize for pursuing this path to its end – to my end – and leaving you without me. You may be wondering why I did that. What was so important that I put myself at risk, left you without a father?

I believe with all my heart that it is my duty – as a Jew, as a journalist, as a human being – to pursue justice. I could not allow the rank injustice of Havik's crimes to stand. I am not capable of just sitting idly by while men get away with crimes that are unspeakable. It is not how I am built. I fervently hope it is not how you are built either, mija. I know I taught you otherwise, and I hope your mami has been teaching you that too.

I know that my death hurts, Luz. You are a good person. You're empathetic and you feel so much. That is both a blessing and a curse. In this case, it is probably more of a curse than a blessing. I can't promise we'll see each other again. But I can promise that a part of me still lives within you. I will guide you as best I can, either through my spirit or just through what I have bestowed upon you.

I love you, Luz. You are an amazing person, a light shining in the darkness. You are extraordinary, and one day, you will make the entire world see that.

Te quiero,

Papi

Luz was openly crying by the time she was done reading the letter. "It still hurts," she said between tears. "I…why does it still hurt? I thought it'd stop hurting when I said goodbye to him! I don't want it to keep hurting! I want him back!"

I just held her. I didn't know what it was like to mourn a family member so comprehensively. I certainly couldn't feel that way about Father. So I didn't say a word. No words I had to offer could be sufficient.

After a few minutes, Luz composed herself and dried her eyes. "Thank you, Grunkle Stan," she said solemnly. "For stopping me. Papi wouldn't have wanted me to kill him."

"No, he wouldn't," Grunkle Stan responded. "All right. Let's get this to the New York Times and then we can get back, mission accomplished!"

Havik was many things, but a Bond villain was not one of them, in his opinion. If he was like the supervillains in the movies, he probably would have killed Swaard in some ingenious way, like feeding him to electric eels or something. But that wasn't something Havik was interested in doing. Setting aside the fact that such a thing was just asking for some hero type to throw him in to get electrocuted, Havik was not in the habit of killing people because they had failed him. Because they stood in his way, yes. For fun, absolutely. But not for failure. If he killed people for failure, it just invited people to hide their mistakes from him, and then he wouldn't know what adjustments to make.

For example, Swaard's report had informed him that Noceda and her associates now possessed evidence that could implicate him in the Sierra Leone massacre. If he had gone around killing people for failure, Swaard would have hid that for him, and he'd have been completely blindsided by it. It was good that he knew this information, because now he could plan for it. No battle plan survived first contact with the enemy, as every soldier knew, and Noceda had, he had to admit, been a wilier enemy than previously known.

There was only one possible way forward. He had eventually wanted to reveal the Demon Realm's existence, but only after his plan had been executed and everyone would inextricably see them as evil. But now he had to hold his nose and reveal it immediately, months before the attack could be executed. There was no changing the date of the attack, unfortunately; something about a specific astronomical conjuncture. So that meant that Noceda and her friends would have months to tell her side of the story.

In the end, Havik was confident that it didn't matter. The American people were notoriously bloodthirsty. 9/11 had shown that. Once attacked, their hatred was something that could fuel a war for decades, if need be. Whatever goodwill Noceda and her friends managed to achieve would be irrelevant. And even if he was wrong, he still had no choice. Being implicated in the Sierra Leone massacre was now inevitable. But if he revealed the Demon Realm's existence, he could spin it as a government smear campaign or demonic propaganda.

"Have someone bring Odalia to me," Havik commanded Swaard. "Then go to Seattle, where you'll be given further instructions. Do not talk to her yourself." The last thing he needed was having Odalia kill Swaard. No one killed his people but him. Swaard saluted and left the room. About half an hour later, a secretary brought in Odalia Blight.

Havik had come to the conclusion that Odalia was completely insane. This did not bother him one iota. It did not serve as a hindrance to his plans, per se, but it did mean that he had to tread extremely carefully around her, lest he set her off. It was a sad but true reality that he needed Odalia right now a lot more than she needed him. Without her, he'd never be able to expose magic to the world; he'd sound like an utter lunatic.

"Mrs. Blight, thank you for taking the time to see me," Havik said, keeping his voice polite. One never treated Odalia as a subordinate. She always felt superior to everyone and saw everyone as inferior to her. Havik always maintained an air of slight subservience, but only slight, when he was around her. The last thing he wanted to do was get mind controlled into being subservient towards her for real, after all. "Circumstances have necessitated that we accelerate our plans. How do you feel about participating in a press conference, one that will reveal magic to the world?"

Odalia smiled a wide and somewhat terrifying smile. It was easy to see now why people had been so scared of witches that they hunted them back in more primitive times. "Why, I think that'd be very fun indeed. I look forward to speaking to my adoring public."

"Good," Havik said, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice and succeeding admirably, in his humble opinion. "We'll need a convincing demonstration of your power…one with no casualties, if you please." Odalia pouted.

It was time to cross the Rubicon. The world would never be the same when he was done.

I was familiar with the concept of a newspaper, of course. The Bonesborough Devourer had been one of Belos' most important propaganda outlets back during his regime, but since then, it had been dissolved and replaced with several competing newspapers, none of which struck me as particularly worth reading. But I wasn't used to the idea of newspapers changing anything. So far, the press had just been a thorn in my side what with reporters constantly pestering me to get interviews about what I knew about Mother's coup attend. (At Lilith's wise advice, I had ignored them.)

I began to get an inkling of just how important the New York Times could be when I got out of the taxi in front of a massive skyscraper with the name of the newspaper plastered on the side of it. Eduardo had not worked at this newspaper; the newspaper he worked at had been a competitor and one in a lesser position. But surely it had been his dream to work here. Perhaps it was fitting that it would be the instrument of our vengeance, a vengeance that certainly would end up being more satisfying than killing Swaard could ever have been.

Luz absolutely insisted that she go up to the desk to tell the receptionist about the contents of the box. Grunkle Stan had tried to protest, but Luz wasn't budging. So naturally I joined her. Grunkle Stan claimed he was a private investigator hired by Camila. Luz didn't bother explaining why she was along. She didn't bother explaining a lot of things, actually. I had to agree with Grunkle Stan that he would have been much better off doing the explanation alone.

The receptionist didn't believe Luz at first, I could tell. Whether it was because she was a child or because of all the holes in her story, I didn't know. But when she read through the journal, the expression on her face changed. She believed us. She went through a doorway and returned a few minutes later. "Okay, we're going to have to notify the police about this," she informed us.

"Oh, boy," Grunkle Stan muttered. I glared at him.

"After that's done, we're going to have to have you talk to the editor of the international department. I've already called him down here. That's because this massacre took place oversees, even though its perpetrator is a naturalized citizen in a company headquartered here in New York." She pursed her lips. "Does this have anything to do with this press conference Havik just called?"

Luz blinked. "Press conference?"

"Yeah, he says he's going to change the world or something. Businessmen are always saying hyperbolic stuff like that. But then again, word is he's cashed in a ton of favors to get a huge audience…he may have something big afoot."

I shared a horror-stricken look with Luz. I knew exactly what he had afoot. He was going to tell everyone about the Boiling Isles. He'd have Mother there to back him up. And every word he was going to say would be a lie. "We have to stop him," I told Luz.

"No one is going anywhere until the cops get here," the receptionist said firmly. I almost pitied her. She had absolutely no idea who she was dealing with.

"Well, I'm against talking to the cops in general, so I'll go along with whatever crazy scheme you have now," Grunkle Stan said. Despite his cavalier tone, I knew that he really meant what he was saying. He trusted us to know what we were doing, much more than he trusted the police.

"We'll be back," Luz promised the receptionist. "But if we don't stop Havik right now, he'll destroy everything I've ever loved, just like he did to my father. Keep the box, and please don't tell the cops about us if you can avoid it."

The receptionist's finger hovered over a button on her desk. I knew that the button would summon security to stop us. I didn't like our chances of defeating them without magic, which would defeat the whole purpose of what we were doing. But then she stopped. "I really shouldn't be doing this," she said. "But something tells me it's the right thing to do. Please don't make me regret it. The press conference is on the rooftop deck of the Empire State Building."

"Don't worry," Luz said. "It'll all work out in the end." How I hoped she was right.

We didn't bother taking a taxi. Instead, we just walked the several blocks it took to take us to the Empire State Building. The traffic was so horrendous, Grunkle Stan explained, that it was actually shorter. There was a big police presence outside the building, which was absolutely enormous, even bigger than the New York Times Building. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have savored the stunning architecture of the building, but we had no time to waste. At any moment, the press conference could begin.

"We're with the FBI, let us through," I flagrantly lied, using bard magic to make myself seem believable and trustworthy. It must have somehow worked, because the police officers stepped aside and let us into the building.

We charged into the building. Grunkle Stan had pickpocketed a pistol from a police officer and was holding it out. He pointed it at the security guard inside, who put his hands above his head. I used my magic to put him to sleep, and we went into the elevator. "Please don't be too late," I prayed repeatedly as the elevator took us up over a hundred stories.

My prayers were in vain.

The door opened and I saw Havik walking onto a stage. The deck was completely filled with chairs. We passed people whom I didn't recognize, but by the looks of it, must have been important, or at least thought they were. I knew what that sort of person looked like. I'd spent enough time moving in the upper class circles back when Mother controlled my life.

"You're probably wondering why I called you here today," Havik said. His voice was firm and resonant. He sounded completely in control. There wasn't a hint of the aura of menace that had surrounded him when we had met in Seattle back in March. "I brought you here because I've stumbled upon a singularly unique individual who is going to change everything you thought you knew. I know what I'm about to say will sound quite mad, but I urge you to keep an open mind. Everything I'm about to tell you will be backed up, I assure you."

"Shoot him," I hissed at Grunkle Stan, who shook his head. I could see why. Even if he wanted to shoot Havik, he wasn't able to get a clear shot from the back of the room. And, in any case, shooting Havik wouldn't solve the problem. There was still Mother to worry about.

"I'd like to introduce you to Odalia Blight," Havik said, and I started trembling. It was about to be over. She was going to pull the wool over everyone's eyes, and I couldn't stop her. Everything I've done, all the freedom I'd amassed for myself, it was about to be rendered completely meaningless. "And together, we're here to talk about the Boiling Isles."

A cloud of blue smoke appeared and Mother stepped out of it. I scoffed. It was a mere conjurer's trick, not real magic. She must have been hidden beneath the stage. If this was the best she had to offer, then we were in no danger. Unfortunately for us, I knew it was not.

Mother snapped her fingers, and an image of what looked like the Boiling Isles at first glance popped in my head. Of course, it was not the Boiling Isles. For starters, everything was on fire. Flames were everywhere one stepped, although the people were not affected by it. Demons – in the human sense, the mythological servants of evil – prodded away at hapless humans with pitchforks. Screams echoed everywhere. Mother projected more scenes of horror and despair into everyone's heads. They were pretty repetitive. Suffering. Mythological demons. Pitchforks. For some reason, pitchforks were quite prominent.

"I am Odalia Blight," Mother said in a soft, reasonable voice. The one she used on her business associates. The one she used to hide what a monster she was inside. "And I come from a land known as the Demon Realm. Humans have known it by another name. They have known it as hell. I was once an angel in heaven, but I foolishly rebelled against God and was rightly cast out into hell for my disobedience." She gave an ashamed expression that I almost would have believed. But I knew she was incapable of it. "I have seen the error of my ways. I have escaped hell, and now I seek your help in leading an invasion against my former brethren, so that Satan may be overthrown and God's light can be restored to my realm."

This was the biggest crock of bullshit I'd ever heard in my entire life, and having grown up with Mother all my life, I had heard some quite impressive whoppers in my time. Unfortunately, everyone else in the room believed it. I could tell. They didn't want to. But they did. I stepped forward, ready to beat the truth out of her, but Luz held her back. "Let me at her," I hissed.

"No," Luz said. "This isn't how we win. She's told her story. Now we tell ours." She looked over at Grunkle Stan. "Let's go back to Times Square. I'm going to put on a little magic show."

Grunkle Stan's eyes widened. "Luz…once you do this, you can never take it back. You understand that, right?"

"Yes," Luz admitted. It's a good thing she did, because I had no idea what she was doing. "Amity, are you ready to show what we can do to the world?"

I nodded. Grunkle Stan was right. If we told the whole truth about the Boiling Isles to the world, we'd be seeing the repercussions reverberate across the realms for the rest of time. But Luz was also right. I never would have chosen to expose the Demon Realm's existence. But we hadn't. We were just going to set the story straight.

And if something went wrong…well, we could fix it together.

Wish us luck, Diary.

Yours faithfully,

Amity Blight