Maya strolled through the museum with Kamala at her side, a satisfied grin on her face. She was still feeling particularly smug about the small victory she had achieved on the bus the day before. It had taken only two hours of leading the entire bus in off-key renditions of the most annoying songs she could think of for Professor Mephisto to finally put his foot down. Uncle Kol had been relegated to the front of the bus, unable to escape the cacophony of the enthusiastic, albeit out-of-tune, students, and Maya had been able to claim the seat next to Ronan.

Once Kol had moved, the singing had become much more harmonious, and the song choices had shifted to more pleasant tunes. Recognizing when he was beaten, Professor Mephisto had then made sure Maya was assigned to a group led by a different professor. It was a small victory, considering Sora, Ronan, and Aiden were in different groups than herself and Kamala, meaning Kol had still managed to get his way in keeping her from partnering up with Ronan. Since the section of the museum the groups were walking about was very small, their paths kept crossing anyway, making Kol's presence almost constant.

Not that it bothered Maya much, the lecture the curator who was taking their group round the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History was giving was very interesting. And the whole singing thing had been more about annoying Uncle Kol for making a deal with her dad in the first place than to get away from him.

"Can you grab my water bottle out, please?" Kamala asked as they followed their group through the exhibits to the lunch hall. They had been doing this for each other all morning, as it saved them from having to take their bags off each time. But when Maya reached for it this time, she found the holder empty.

"It's not there," she said, frowning.

"It's not there."

"What?" Kamala stopped dead in her tracks, pulling Maya to a halt and almost causing a collision when Professor Daniels, their group's leader, didn't realize until the last moment.

"Girls!" he called out, frustration evident in his voice.

"Sorry, Professor Daniels," they chorused.

"Why did you stop so abruptly? It's really not necessary," he scolded.

"I left my water bottle somewhere," Kamala admitted, looking sheepish.

"Well, where did you have it last, Miss Khan?" he asked, trying to keep his patience.

"You asked for it when we were heading to the dinosaur exhibit," Maya reminded her.

Kamala nodded, piecing it together.

"Right, and then we sat down and took our bags off because we had to fill out that worksheet. I guess I forgot to put it back."

"That was very careless of you, Miss Khan," Professor Daniels sighed.

"Sorry, Professor Daniels," Kamala said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

He sighed again, but with a hint of resignation this time.

"As we were on our way to lunch, and therefore you won't miss anything important, I will allow you to go and fetch it."

"Thanks, Professor," Kamala said, relief evident in her voice.

"You go with her, Miss Nichols; the buddy system is still very much in place," he instructed firmly.

"Of course, Professor Daniels," Maya replied promptly.

The two of them began to retrace their steps, weaving through the clusters of other students and displays. The lively hum of conversations and the occasional exclamation of wonder filled the air. As they rounded a corner, they almost collided with another group.

"Where are you two going?" Professor Fawley asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Kamala left her water bottle in the dinosaur exhibit," Maya explained quickly.

"Professor Daniels said I could go get it as long as we stuck together," Kamala added, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

Professor Fawley frowned her disapproval evident. She clearly wasn't thrilled about the idea of the two of them wandering off without adult supervision, even if they were staying within the museum. Her eyes scanned the bustling hall, filled with students and towering exhibits, before she sighed.

"I could go with them," Miss Chance offered, stepping forward. She was a trainee-teacher that had started in September, always enthusiastic and willing to help. Her smile was reassuring, and her presence seemed to ease some of Professor Fawley's concerns.

Professor Fawley nodded reluctantly.

"Don't take too long, or you won't have enough time to eat your lunch," she warned.

Miss Chance clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm palpable.

"Come on, girls, we don't want to miss out on the brownies I heard we were getting for dessert."

With Miss Chance joining them, they set off again, moving at a brisker pace this time. There was no chance to dawdle and take in the sights with one of the teachers shuffling them along. Maya frowned when they entered the dinosaur hall. It was surprisingly empty, where before it had been bustling with families and other tour groups. The sudden emptiness made her uneasy, and she slowed her pace slightly, senses on high alert.

One hand discreetly released her wand from its holster, while the other reached for the knife Agent Blye had given her. The knife was charmed not to be detected by No-Maj means, allowing her to carry it into the museum undetected, with strict instructions to use it only in self-defence. The lack of people around set her instincts on edge; it wasn't normal for a museum to be so devoid of visitors, especially in a popular exhibit like the dinosaur hall, unless it was close to closing—and that was still five hours away.

The colossal skeletons of ancient beasts loomed above them, their long shadows stretching across the polished floors. The eerie silence amplified every footstep, the usual hum of activity replaced by an unsettling stillness. Maya's heart began to beat faster, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement, as she extended her magic, feeling for signs of life or hidden magic that others might be using.

Kamala seemed oblivious to the tension Maya was feeling, focused solely on retrieving her water bottle. She quickened her pace as they approached the bench where they had last sat. There it was, resting innocuously where she had left it.

"Got it!" Kamala exclaimed, her voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. She grabbed the bottle and tucked it back into her bag.

Maya's magic detected several beings at the same time Kamala turned back to them with a victorious smile that swiftly shifted to alarm.

"Maya, watch out!"

A strong arm wrapped around Maya's chest, and a hand clamped over her mouth. Maya, her knife already in hand, instinctively struck backwards. She knew it could only be Miss Chance, as she had been the only one behind her. The blade found its mark, eliciting a shriek of anger and pain from the woman.

But it was too late. The hand covering Maya's nose and mouth contained a fine powder that she inadvertently inhaled. She began to cough violently, her vision darkening at the edges. Desperation fuelled her as she struck out again with her knife, her legs flailing in an attempt to break free.

Miss Chance released her, stumbling back, clutching her wounded side. But the danger was far from over. More figures emerged from the shadows, the ones Maya had sensed with her magic, their expressions hidden but their intentions clear.

Maya's limbs felt heavy, her movements sluggish, unable to focus her magic as the powder took its toll. They were outnumbered and out planned; fighting them off wasn't an option, which left only one thing for them to do.

"Kamala, run! Get Uncle Kol!" Maya managed to gasp between coughs, stumbling forward and grabbing her friend's hand.

Kamala hesitated for a split second, her eyes wide with fear and confusion, but the urgency in Maya's voice spurred her into action. She spun around and bolted toward the exit, her footsteps echoing loudly in the empty hall. But it was already too late. Three of the advancing figures lunged forward, blocking her path.

Maya didn't know what the powder contained, but whatever it was acted fast, overcoming her enhanced biology with terrifying ease. As her vision blurred even more, black dots dancing across her eyes, she swung her knife one last time, catching another attacker off guard. But two more moved forward with predatory swiftness. A hard blow to her arm sent her knife clattering to the ground, and a kick to her legs brought her down.

"Hurry, we need to remove the portkey fast, before it activates," was the last thing she heard as the world faded to black.

The cold, polished floor pressed against her cheek, the smell of ancient bones and dust filling her nostrils as she slipped into unconsciousness, the echoing footsteps of the attackers fading into the abyss.

Katherine was on edge as she waited for Elijah to arrive at the café she had meticulously chosen. Her eyes darted around the dimly lit room, scanning every face and every corner. She hadn't spotted anyone following her since she'd dealt with the two witches the previous day, but that didn't mean there weren't more skilled ones lurking in the shadows. She selected a table tucked away in the furthest corner, where the soft amber light barely reached, allowing her a clear view of anyone who might approach while keeping her own presence hidden.

Her mind churned with unanswered questions about the two witches—who they were, who they were working for, and why they had been stalking her. The possibilities were endless. After all, she was Katherine Pierce, a name that resonated through centuries with infamy and allure. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was tied to a particular situation she dared not name, even in the confines of her mind, for fear that he might sense her thoughts. Paranoia, some might call it, but Katherine knew better. To her, it was justifiable caution.

Her father had forsworn his roots as a traveller, becoming a landowner instead, but renouncing his heritage didn't erase the knowledge he had gained growing up among them. He had always spoken of the first created immortal with fear, sharing those stories only when the sun was at its peak, and no shadows could dance in the corners. He had cautioned them never to repeat the tales to anyone but their own children, never to utter the name, and to guard their thoughts closely. As a human, Katherine had dismissed it as mere superstition, an old wives' tale to scare children. But as a vampire, she had come to understand the gravity of those whispered warnings.

It was this understanding that had driven her to make it a cardinal rule within her vast network of informants, painstakingly assembled over the centuries: any mention of him was to be reported to her immediately, especially if it involved efforts to raise him. It was through this network that she had first learned of Kol Mikaelson's relentless crusade against the cults that had periodically emerged, all obsessed with the notion of awakening the ancient terror. The moment she caught wind of the latest rumour, she knew she had to contact Kol, despite her general wariness of the Mikaelson family, Elijah and Maya excluded.

She had relayed everything she had learned to Kol the following evening. Initially, he had regarded her with suspicion, but once she revealed her father's identity, his demeanour shifted. He became an avid listener, his intense gaze never leaving her face. He had instructed her to leave the matter in his hands—a departure from Katherine's usual modus operandi, but one she was willing to accept in this case—and to inform him immediately if she heard any more whispers. Knowing that someone else who understood the peril, and was better equipped to confront it, now held the information, had eased some of the tension that had been coiling inside her since the first rumour reached her ears.

Some, but not all.

Every creak of the door and every murmur of conversation heightened her senses, her vampire instincts poised to react to the slightest hint of danger. The ambient sounds of the café intertwined with the rhythm of her racing thoughts, creating a tense symphony of anticipation. She sipped her coffee slowly, savouring the warmth it provided in stark contrast to the cold unease gripping her heart. She knew Elijah would come; he'd made a deal, and he didn't break those lightly. But until then, she remained a sentinel in the shadows, ready to face whatever threat might emerge from the darkened edges of her past.

She was on her second coffee and was contemplating compelling the waitress to provide her with a small snack when he did arrive. His commanding presence drew the attention of patrons and staff alike, but his eyes were fixed solely on her. With a swift and elegant stride, he crossed the room, every movement exuding a quiet power.

"Katerina."

His voice always made her want to purr with delight, but she maintained her veneer of complete control.

"Elijah." She greeted him with a nod, "Thank you for coming."

"Is it safe to talk here? Or should we go somewhere else?"

Katherine pondered for a moment. She was confident that no one inside the café was spying on her, and it was unlikely anyone outside would get close enough to eavesdrop without one of them noticing. She was cautious about speaking a certain name, but not so superstitious as to believe that bright sunlight made any real difference. The café provided a good vantage point, with a clear line of sight on all approaches.

"Here will be fine," she decided.

Elijah took the seat to her left, providing himself with a good view of anyone approaching as well. She could see the concern in his eyes, masked behind his usual composed demeanour, but he didn't speak again until the waitress had delivered fresh drinks for both of them and been compelled to stay away unless they called for her.

"So, Katerina, I believe you promised me an explanation."

"I did." She took a sip of her coffee, planning out her words carefully. "Don't say the name your brother told you, don't even think it if you can help it."

"That's remarkably paranoid of you, Katerina."

"Perhaps." She shrugged; she would be paranoid about this if it kept the world from unravelling. "Have you ever heard of the Travellers?"

"Some group of witches, are they not?"

"Sort of, not in the traditional sense. They were cursed a long time ago. How much of the story did your brother tell you?"

"That he was the original male doppelganger, and that most witches who know of him believe that if he rises, hell will be unleashed on earth."

"Two thousand years ago, there was a powerful coven in Greece, part of a large and dominant tribe of witches that ruled much of Europe. Two of their most gifted members were engaged to be married, but the man supposedly loved another. He convinced his fiancée to create an elixir that would make them immortal. When she did, he stole it and consumed it with his lover. The scorned fiancée supposedly created a cure, fed it to the other woman before cutting out her heart, and offered the remaining cure to her fiancée, claiming all would be forgiven if he took it and married her."

Elijah scoffed, and she nodded in agreement. You'd have to be a bloody saint to forgive that sort of betrayal, and Qetsiyah, by all accounts, was no saint.

"He refused, scorning her again. For that sin, she petrified him and hid his body along with the cure. No one is certain what happened after that. There are several versions of the tale, but the one I was told as a child was that the woman he ran off with wasn't killed but also petrified in stone. Qetsiyah created the Other Side, an afterlife for witches and other supernatural creatures, using the woman's petrified immortal body to anchor it. She gave her fiancée a choice: take the cure and eventually die, joining her on the Other Side, or remain petrified forever. Either way, he would never be with his lover. He chose petrification and remains entombed, and that's how he must stay."

"I see. What does this have to do with the Travellers you mentioned?"

"They were the tribe the coven belonged to. After their most powerful member created immortality, the tribe split: those who believed such power was for the gods alone and not mortals, and those who believed they should become gods. The faction that believed in mortal limits cursed the others, creating the Travellers. They were cut off from all traditional forms of magic, severing their connection to nature. Forced to adopt a nomadic lifestyle, the curse prevents them from gathering and settling as a tribe. If they own land or live in one place, nature will turn against them, bringing disasters like plagues, fires, and earthquakes. They found new ways of performing magic, by possessing the bodies of non-magicals, allowing them to gather, settle, and perform rituals they couldn't in their own bodies."

"How do you know so much about them?"

"My father was a Traveller."

"Your father was a landowner."

"He renounced his heritage; it's the only way to escape the curse. Of course, doing so means you can never use magic again, but he believed their ways to be the devil's work. The only time he spoke of them was to tell us the story of the original immortal and why he must never be woken."

"Hell on earth?" Elijah raised an eyebrow. "You don't really believe that do you?"

"That's what the witches say. What would be hell on earth to a witch, Elijah?"

He considered her question for a moment. "I suppose being unable to do magic."

"My father told me that the leader of the Travellers supposedly made a deal with the immortal. If he awakes, he will take his cure, give his lover the cure, and destroy the Other Side. This would return the magic of the world to what it was before they were cursed, before the immortals were created. The Travellers would be the only ones capable of doing magic, thus creating hell on earth for all witches."

"What about vampires and werewolves?"

"My father didn't know or care. He believed defying the gods was evil, renounced his people, and refused to tell us more than I've already shared. But after I transitioned, I did my own research. Should they succeed, vampires and werewolves would die. We are sustained by magic, but our species were both created after the Travellers were cursed. If they return the magic of the world to its original state, we would all die. The magic that sustains us would vanish. Now do you see why he must not be woken?"

"Why did you need Kol's number?"

"Your brother has made a habit of wiping out anyone who seeks to awaken the first immortal. My network gave me reliable information that someone was looking to do just that, and who better to stop it than the Mikaelson who's dedicated his immortality to ensuring it never happens."

Elijah's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the information. "And you trust your sources?"

"Implicitly."

"The witches who were following you, are they involved?"

"I don't know. I haven't been able to find anything out about either of them," Katherine admitted, frustration clear in her voice. "But my instincts say yes."

"Are you safe, Katerina?"

"Are you worried?"

"Yes."

"I can take care of myself, Elijah. Hopefully, your brother will deal with this newest resurgence swiftly, and I will cease to be bothered by witches stalking me."

Elijah frowned his concern palpable. It was sweet of him, but she had been looking after herself for five hundred years; a few witches weren't going to take her down. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She checked the caller ID and frowned herself.

"I should take this."

"I'll give you some privacy."

"Thank you, but that's not necessary."

Elijah nodded and settled back in his chair as she accepted the call and raised the phone to her ear.

"Hello Evie, how's the situation in New Orleans?"

"The French Quarter Coven have a plan to get their lost Harvest girl back."

"Will it succeed?" Katherine asked, an amused tone in her voice.

"How likely is Klaus Mikaelson to do what they say if they threaten his daughter?"

All amusement vanished in a second. She didn't even need to look Elijah's way to know he'd heard; he was too close not to, but she turned to him anyway. Noting the tension in his body, she said,

"Explain."

"I overheard Sophie and Jane-Anne talking about it. They have a plan to kidnap his daughter and use her to force Klaus to take control of the city again and give them the Harvest Girl that got away."

"What's the plan? When is it happening?"

"It's already in progress. I listened to as much as I could, then slipped away to call you. They're already planning to contact Klaus Mikaelson."

Elijah had already pulled out his phone and had it held up to his ear.

"Kol, tell me you have eyes on Maya."

"Evie, I want to know everything," Katherine demanded.

A vicious curse and a clattering sound was her only answer before the phone went dead.