We're staying in town for now. When my dad moves to Chicago, guess I bounce between there and Ann Arbor.

Im sorry Brian.

Yeah, well. It's what it is.

Yeah.

How is the war going?

More boring than u might think.

Are you just saying that?

Yes and no

Are you ever coming back to Larkin Mills?

I hope so. But I can visit you anywhere.

I know.

Alexandra almost asked Brian if he wanted her to visit. But she didn't want to pressure him, or sound like she needed him to want to see her.

She dropped her phone into her pocket. She was standing at the edge of a kitschy roadside antique store's parking lot, while Blake Blaxley perused old knick-knacks and vintage clothing inside. Hela leaned against the car, texting on her own phone.

Blaxley finally emerged from the store with a lawn jockey and a wooden box of unknown treasures. As he put his latest finds in the trunk, she asked him, "Can I drive?"

"No." He grinned at her, as he always did when she asked the question.

His car was an enormous white juggernaut, so broad that few cars dared try to pass them. It fit his flamboyant style of dress—today he looked like a red-robed Elvis, with sparkling sunglasses despite the overcast skies.

Alexandra got in the passenger seat and slammed the door. "I'm never going to be able to take my driver's license test if I don't get to practice."

Blaxley laughed. "We are fighting a war, and breaking numerous Muggle and wizard laws. Does it actually matter whether you have a driver's license?"

"My father is fighting a war. My best friend is fighting a war. I'm taking a road trip."

"Well, you won't be driving my car. Do you even know how to drive?"

"Yes!"

From the back seat, Hela made a coughing sound.

For days, they had been crossing states and Territories, following the cracks that only Alexandra could see, and reporting on the state of the world where they fissured open. With Archibald Mudd dead and Mrs. Wilborough back in Larkin Mills, and Confederation Regiments fighting the Dark Convention and sometimes each other in red evening skies, Alexandra's father no longer sent her to speak to politicians and purebloods. She supposed anyone still undecided about their allegiance now didn't matter.

At least she had been able to send owls to Julia, David, and the Pritchards. She didn't tell Julia much, except that she hoped she'd be able to visit soon.

David, she asked to try to find out information about the Compact from Bran and Poe, Charmbridge's library elves.

From the Internet, Alexandra had learned that undead were wandering across the Illinois border, a giant horned serpent had eaten a family in a small town in the Southwest, and ghosts and goblins and witches were regularly mentioned in the South and New England.

Everything the Muggle news said about ghosts and goblins and witches was wrong, but they were talking about them, and not just as funny Halloween stories.

And she was still stuck drawing maps, accompanied by a pair of useless minions. Her father's instructions had been very clear: he didn't care that she could travel faster alone with her Seven-League Boots.

Blake Blaxley wasn't so bad—certainly he was less annoying than Archibald Mudd—but Alexandra refused to warm up to him, though her unfriendly attitude never bothered him.

They were driving around the Great Lakes, which had become perpetually overcast and stormy. Alexandra thought something had happened when she freed Typhon and Edna. Perhaps she and her father had made it worse when she split the world open around Eerie Island. They had found numerous cracks spreading across the land and water in their tour of the coastline, but nothing explained the unnatural weather and the growing fear of Muggle mariners.

On the long drives, Alexandra's phone rarely worked. Between a lack of signals and the presence of wands and a magic car, she usually had to wait for their pit stops or the evenings they spent at cheap motels to check the Internet or text her friends.

Anna had yet to reply to any of her texts. She probably didn't even carry a phone anymore. She would be surrounded by wizards and magic all the time. And David was still at Charmbridge. But at least Brian was still talking to her.

Claudia left messages almost daily. Alexandra called back when she could, but she was less worried about Claudia and Archie. They had apparently resigned themselves to the fact that they would not be returning to America any time soon. She tried to convince Claudia not to worry about her, and deflected questions about what she was doing, and her schooling. She should have been a high school junior now, in the 11th grade at Charmbridge. She was learning things she would never learn in school, but she supposed she was falling behind on her formal education. She'd try to make up for that, when there was no longer a war on. Not that she was actually doing anything for the war.

After all, she thought bitterly, I failed the first test I was given. If she'd killed Franklin Percival Brown, would her father now have her and Hela hunting Accountants? That would at least be directly contributing to ending the Deathly Regiment.

Blake Blaxley's car had a Wizard Wireless set that let them tune into the Confederation News Network. The CNN told them that the activities of Dark Convention warlocks were causing minor disturbances in remote parts of several Territories, and that more and more members of the Thorn Circle were being arrested, though no names were ever given. The Governors of Alta California, North California, and Baja California were engaged in long discussions about the future of their Territories as they adapted to a changing political landscape and the growing demands of fringe special interest groups. Confederation Regiments sent to California did not indicate tension or fear of a secession; they were reinforcements requested by local authorities, who had seen an increase in Dark activity and terrorist threats by the Thorn Circle.

Everything the CNN reported was wrong, if not an outright lie. Between that and the Muggle news claiming that witches were holding Black Masses in national parks, Alexandra wondered if the news ever reported anything that was true. She knew Archibald Mudd had twisted facts, but now it seemed to her that all reporters did.

They were driving along a long stretch of road with Lake Erie to the south. Alexandra still didn't fully understand what her father was doing with the geomancy maps she was creating. He had tried explaining how the cracks and their connections to places where the Confederation had anchored wizarding institutions and communities created a pattern that gave the Thorn Circle clues where to strike. How he meant to use her ability to open these cracks to weaken the Confederation's control of the magic they accumulated through the Deathly Regiment. But when would they do that? Why didn't they just destroy the pattern or something? Or publicize it and tell her father's Muggle allies to put soldiers there? He had reasonable answers to all her questions, but she felt her lack of education. She was trying to correct this with more books, but reading in the car wasn't the best way to study magical theory.

She wished she could talk to the Alexandra Committee and shoot ideas back and forth.

She looked up from Secret Ratios and Magical Proportions, and her eyes widened at the blackness and thickness of the clouds overhead, which grew denser over the water. They were practically alone on the highway, which was awash in sheets of rain. She had never appreciated Blaxley's boat-like car as much as she did now, with its magical charms to deflect the wind and rain and keep it on the road.

A mighty flash to the south caught her attention. When she looked out at the lake, for a moment, she was certain: high above the clouds, illuminated by lightning, bigger than any creature could possibly be, bigger than a dragon or an airplane, she saw the outline of a great black bird, with electricity flashing from its beak and wings and talons.

"Do you see that?" she asked.

"Yes," Hela said. "It's a Thunderbird!"

"Yes," Blaxley said. "Fools."

Alexandra looked at him with a frown, but his gaze was directed at the water. She looked where he was looking. The clouds were only clouds now, and there was no sign of the Thunderbird, even when lightning flashed again, but out on the water there was a sailboat.

Only a few large ships and fishing vessels risked the water now, and this was the first time in their journey that Alexandra had seen a recreational boat on the lakes. It was tacking towards shore as the thunderous black storm front bore down on them.

"They're not going to make it," she said. They were half a mile from a dock, but already the vessel was bobbing in the waves kicked up by the winds.

"They'll be fine," Blaxley said, unconvincingly. "Having to sail in through hard weather will teach them to stay off the water during a storm."

"Stop the car."

"Alexandra—" Blaxley never called her "Miss Quick." "Our job is not to save Muggles from their own folly."

"I know what our job is. Funny, we always have time to take side trips for you to browse antique stores and souvenir shops. Now stop the car, or I'll get out anyway."

Blaxley smiled ruefully. He was fond of Muggle knick-knacks, especially old vinyl records and porcelain statues and other junk that looked like boring old people memorabilia to Alexandra. He pulled to the side of the road. "So like your sister."

"What?"

"Livia. She has your savior complex, though fortunately not your compulsion to fling herself into situations where people need saving."

Alexandra wanted to ask how he knew so much about Livia, but something else caught her attention out on the water. There was a dark shape moving in the clouds rolling towards shore.

"Alexandra!" Blaxley exclaimed, as Alexandra jumped out of the car and ran towards the lake. She heard Hela echoing her name before she took a step of almost a quarter mile, bringing her to the nearest point to the boat on the shoreline.

A thousand yards offshore, Alexandra could barely make out the people on the boat. She looked over her shoulder. Blaxley had gotten out of the car and was standing next to it, hands on his hips, as if he could summon Alexandra back with a disapproving glare. Hela had already Apparated to her side, scowling almost like her old self. Away from town, she had returned to wearing her traditional hides and furs, though she'd added some colorful jewelry.

"You must stop doing this, Alexandra," Hela said. "You may tell me I am free to go, but I still answer to your father, and he will blame me if something happens to you."

"It's just a storm," Alexandra said. "Nothing's going to happen to me."

"It is not just a storm. Thunderbirds are living powers of storms, and where there are Thunderbirds, there are N'zaliya`ati."

"What's that?"

"The mortal enemies of the Thunderbird. Indians call them underwater panthers."

Alexandra swore. She cast an Umbrella Charm and a Water-Walking Charm and stepped onto the waves rippling ashore. The Seven-League Boots could carry her across small bodies of water, but not over a lake.

Hela muttered something in her language, and came splashing after her.

"You need to work on your Water-Walking," Alexandra said, not slowing down for the other girl. Hela muttered some more and tried to catch up.

The sailboat was bobbing like a cork. Alexandra could see the bigger waves before they reached her. Rain was already driving against her, deflected by the golden light of her Umbrella Charm, and the outer edge of the approaching storm front had just reached the boat. It was too far away for her to cast weather protection charms on it. She concentrated and Apparated.

She meant to Apparate onto the deck of the boat, but it was rocking violently so she arrived in empty air and had no time to react before the deck bounced back up. The combination of gravity and the boat's upward motion slammed the two of them together, and Alexandra was almost knocked into the water. She tumbled along the deck until she bumped into the port gunwale, breathless and stunned.

She caught a glimpse of startled faces—two men and a woman—and then the boat rocked some more. She managed to grab the side as the boat tilted almost far enough for its mast to touch the waves.

It lurched back upright. Someone screamed. Alexandra jumped to her feet, trying to brace herself against more rocking motions, and then almost staggered over the side as she saw what was coming at them in the storm.

Lightning flashes reflected off its golden hide. It was a dragon-sized monster with the face of a giant cat, made demonic with great golden horns, and sharp spikes running down its back. It padded across the water like a panther on dry land, ignoring the wind and rain. Its eyes glowed like fire, and flames licked its tongue. It was almost upon them.

Alexandra looked back towards the shore. Hela was a tiny figure struggling through the waves, arms waving awkwardly.

"Hela, go back!" Alexandra shouted.

She turned back to the three Muggles. One of the men was clinging to the wheel, the other was holding onto the mast, and the woman was trying to get into the sailboat's tiny cabin.

Alexandra grabbed the man who was nearest. She reached out with her other hand. "Take my hand!" she yelled at the other two. "Both of you!"

They gaped at her in confusion. The boat rocked, the woman screamed and slid backwards. The man holding the wheel almost lost his grip. The face of the underwater panther rose above them, with fire and smoke belching out of its mouth.

"Grab me!" Alexandra screamed, but she was already falling backwards towards the prow as it dipped downward. She almost held onto the first man, whose arm around the mast kept them from both pitching into the waves. She dangled for a moment, her wand-hand waving in the air. The woman rolled over the side and the man holding the wheel cried, "Karen!" Then a column of flames descended on them. Alexandra Apparated as she fell, and felt herself pulled apart.

She woke up in a bed, with Livia leaning over her, adjusting her shirt. Alexandra looked down, and realized Livia was actually removing bandages. She was naked from the waist up. She looked around in confusion as she instinctively brought her arms up to cover herself.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"A small house in a small town that no one should know about," Livia said. "A safehouse created by our father. Blake and Hela brought you back to the hotel, and I brought you here. You really need to stop doing things like this." Her tone was weary, but there was a hint of dark humor behind her disapproving expression.

"What… did I do?" Alexandra asked.

"Splinched yourself. You know, it's not easy to actually kill yourself by splinching, but you certainly gave it a good effort. Side-Along Apparition across a large body of water, without proper deliberation and—"

"What happened to the guy I brought with me?"

Livia looked at her blankly.

"Did I bring him with me?" Alexandra asked.

Livia slowly shook her head. "Only you made it to shore."

Alexandra felt a crushing weight of disappointment. She looked around. The bandages Livia was removing were soaked with blood, but while Alexandra felt a little funny, she didn't feel injured.

"Blake and Hela bandaged you and healed you as best they could," Livia said. "Their care alone would have kept you alive, but you'd probably have scars, perhaps permanent injuries, if not for me." She said this without boasting, as if it were a simple diagnosis.

"Thanks." Alexandra looked down. "Go ahead and tell me I was reckless and stupid."

"Reckless, yes. I don't know about stupid."

"I failed."

"What?"

"Someone told me, not long ago, that I'll never save anyone." Alexandra stared at the bloody bandages. "That I'm just fooling myself thinking I can. I ran out there to save some strangers because I can't save my friends, I can't save my sisters—"

"Well, that's stupid," Livia said sharply. "If I'm to believe the stories I've heard from Julia and Claudia, you've saved quite a few people. You can't save everyone, Alexandra, and it's egotistical of you to think that's your responsibility."

Alexandra wasn't sure why those mocking words from Darla's ghost were echoing in her thoughts now, but she couldn't stop thinking about the three people she'd left behind in the gray waters of the lake.

After an awkward silence, Livia said, "Blake scolded me for putting ideas in your head. As if. But I think he actually admires you." She sighed. "Was there really an underwater panther? I thought those were mythical."

"Didn't Hela see it?"

"She says she did. If they're what the legends say they are, this is very bad, isn't it?"

"Underwater panthers in the Great Lakes? Yeah, that's probably pretty bad." Alexandra found her shirt, neatly folded, and applied a few charms the Grannies had taught her to vanish the bloodstains.

Livia walked to the door. "You should rest. Your body needs to catch up to the healing I performed on you. And please don't Apparate for a while."

After she left, Alexandra fell back on her bed and brushed her fingertips across the tattoo on her shoulder. Charlie emerged, and immediately pecked at her. "Crazy!"

Charlie knew something had happened, if not what. She put her palm up in front of the raven's beak. "Stop it, Charlie. I feel bad enough already."

Three more people dead, and while she had no real reason to think so, she couldn't help thinking that the underwater panther was her responsibility.

"Troublesome," said Charlie, in a more conciliatory tone.

Claudia called her that night. Alexandra was relieved and a little anxious, as she always was speaking to her oldest sister. A little voice in her head would always want to call Claudia "Mom."

They chatted for a little while about what they were going to do about the house in Larkin Mills, and Claudia's ability to work in Europe. She and Archie had both begun learning French. All of this sank Alexandra's spirits deeper, though she tried to keep it out of her voice. It was as if they had silently agreed that America would never be safe again.

Finally, Claudia asked, "Have you heard anything about Lucilla and Drucilla?"

"No," Alexandra said glumly.

"Valeria has begun studying their notes and journals," Claudia said. "She says they were brilliant."

"Don't use the past tense!"

Claudia fell silent.

"Tell me where their seven-gabled house is," Alexandra said.

"What?" Claudia asked.

"We were both there," Alexandra said. "Tell me where it is. It's important. Be as specific as you can."

There was a long pause. Then, in a weak and rather frightened tone, Claudia said, "I can't."

"That's because of the Fidelius Charm. We can't reveal its location, even to each other, because Lucilla and Drucilla are the Secret-Keepers. If they died, we'd become Secret-Keepers. So as long as we can't tell anyone about it, we know they're alive. Any time you're not sure, ask Archie to tell you where it is. If he can't—Lucy and Dru are alive."

"Really?" Claudia sounded on the verge of tears. "Because when Valeria said they'd preserved themselves in their house, I thought…"

"Valeria said what?"

"She said Lucilla and Drucilla had done something with the house. A great work, she called it. She used lots of magical terms. You know I'm not good about understanding magic."

You've tried hard not to understand it, Alexandra thought. "But what did she mean, they preserved themselves in their house?"

"A piece of their soul? Something like that. She said the house is actually alive now."

That was surprising to Alexandra, since the twins had told her that they went to great effort to prevent that very thing from happening. Their large, seven-gabled house next to a river was full of charms and spirits that threatened to manifest as poltergeists, haunts, or worse. Alexandra herself had experienced the house's capricious internal rearrangement and occasional attempts to kill her.

Why would Lucilla and Drucilla have decided to animate the house?

"Did Valeria say anything else about the house, or what Lucilla and Drucilla did to it? Anything at all?" Alexandra asked.

"Not really. They told me before they left that they were cursing it in case they never came back. You aren't thinking of going there, are you?"

"No, of course not." Alexandra thought she sounded convincing.

"Maybe you should talk to Valeria."

"Is she there?" Alexandra's mouth was suddenly very dry.

She had not spoken to Valeria in almost three years. She had stolen Valeria's Time-Turner and almost ended her career, and though Lucilla and Drucilla insisted otherwise, Alexandra was pretty sure Valeria still hadn't forgiven her.

"No," Claudia said. "But I can have her call you back. She doesn't have a phone of her own, but she'll use mine."

"No," Alexandra said quickly. "Don't bother her. I'll probably be back where my phone won't work for the next few days."

After they hung up, Alexandra tried to remember everything the Whites had taught her about Artificing, and specifically about imbuing objects with a heart and soul. Usually that wasn't done literally—in fact, putting a soul in an inanimate object was a Dark Art. But it was possible to put a sliver of oneself into an object even while you were still alive. That was how wizard painters created magical portraits that preserved the subject's personality. Usually it was vanity. Sometimes it was to make the object unusable to anyone else. And sometimes it was to make the object alive.

If the house had a piece of Lucy's and Dru's souls, then it was connected to them. It had a stronger bond than her own flesh and blood did. And with the right spells… Alexandra could use it to find them.

The smart thing to do, of course, was tell her father. If anyone could track them from their house, he could. Except that Lucilla and Drucilla had made her promise not to reveal the house's location to anyone, not even him. Especially not him. Even if there were some way to get around the Fidelius Charm, she'd be breaking her word.

She'd break her word, and make two more sisters hate her, if it would save them. But if she didn't know it would work, she wasn't prepared to do that. So there was only one obvious course of action.

Obvious, because doing anything else meant telling someone, who would undoubtedly try to talk her out of it.

This isn't like all the other times, she told herself. This isn't for me. This isn't some selfish impulse. I'm following a lead. And the worst that happens is I find an empty house with some spooks in it.

As if sensing her internal struggle and her attempts at rationalization, Charlie said, "Troublesome vexes, Troublesome woes."

Alexandra held out her arm to the bird. Charlie hopped on, and Alexandra stroked the raven's feathers.

"Troublesome needs you, wherever she goes," she said.

Charlie made a soft warbling sound, an imitation of some gentler bird. Alexandra kissed Charlie's beak, and then turned her bare shoulder to her familiar. Charlie made another sound, a disapproving clack followed by something almost like a sigh, and sank into her, living ink soaked into her skin once more.

Alexandra found a change of clothes, and packed her backpack. Then she plugged her phone into the charger and lay down again to rest as Livia had instructed her. She meant to get up early, hopefully before Blaxley returned, and early enough to evade Hela and her unwanted chaperoning.

Lucy, Dru, I'm coming for you.