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“How’s this?” Adib asks, holding his hand aloft. A ball of light is pulsing faintly. “Am I doing it? I’m doing it, hah! I totally cast a spell on my own. Ryan, are you recording this?” Adib groans as the light flickers and goes out, and Ryan laughs.

“That looks good,” Kat says with a chuckle. “Keep your concentration and try not to talk until you know you can handle a split focus.”

Kat thought it would be a good idea to teach us all some spell basics, but only Adib and Ryan can actually practice right now.

We’ve worked on a few simple things that can be done without a spell diagram and only need short incantations and gestures.

I feel like I’ve gotten the gist of the practical parts, but without being able to try to cast the spells, there’s no way of knowing if I’m doing it right.

“This is wild,” Adib says, watching a couple walk down the street completing ignoring the people astride a giant cat. He waves at them, and they just keep walking.

Kat sits up and stretches. “I thought I’d be more tired than I am.”

“Maybe there’s more mana in this world since no one is using it,” I suggest.

Kat hmms. “Maybe. But it doesn’t feel that way… there’s lots of parts of your world that just feel parched, like there hasn’t been mana in hundreds of years. But there are places where there’s a lot of it, like it’s…”

“Seeping through cracks?” Erica asks. “Maybe it’s coming through the portals.”

Kat pulls up the schedule she’d copied on her runebook and shakes her head.

“Nothing here matches that location, and these are all just a few seconds here or there. We guessed that the Order uses the longer portals for smuggling, so they must monitor those. But maybe there are portals happening that they haven’t predicted. ”

“Could this have something to do with the mana surges and how you have to do that Ritual all the time to stop, like, the end of the world or something?” I ask.

Adib groans. “I knew it was too good to be true! All magic has a cost. What is this Ritual thing, and what is happening?”

Kat explains briefly about the pending disasters that are staved off by the regular casting of the Ritual spell. I watch Kat as she tells the story of Clarabelle Marin and Jìngyi Woo. She gestures with her hands, her whole body involved in the story.

It was nice today on the hike, spending time with Kat like it was a regular date, introducing her to my friends, our hot pot lunch filled with steam and dumplings and laughter.

It was almost easy to forget she was from another world; she could have just been from another country with different customs, learning about Los Angeles for the first time.

But there’s no way to compartmentalize this part of her—the reality is that she’s from another world, and something awful is happening there, and it’s happening here, too. Something that’s wrapped up in a catastrophe that’s been waiting to happen for a hundred years.

Maybe there isn’t any normal anymore now.

Ana shifts, yawning, a bit of steam rising from her nostrils.

She looks like a glittering jewel, a small reminder of when she loomed massive, causing destruction.

She looks content to be the size of a house cat, stretching in an open saxophone case with her tail entwined around the instrument protectively.

I listen to the quiet of the streets, the gentle whisper of the wind and the echoing barks of neighborhood dogs. Cars honk and people order tacos from street vendors working under awnings and colorful umbrellas.

I feel something else, too, something in the air, in the world. Something like power, rustling and settling around my shoulders, a rippling wave of energy, waiting for me to call it.

I sit up, alert. I don’t feel fatigued anymore; I don’t think I have for a while. My body feels light, excited, like I’m about to run a race.

I take a deep breath and draw the three symbols Kat taught me for the invisibility spell, focusing my intention on myself, my friends, Ana, Fancy. I sweep my arms and close the circle.

I exhale, and I watch as our bodies seem to disappear. I know we’re here, and there’s a slight sheen in the air, as if I’m looking through a wave of running water, but we’re no longer visible.

Magic. I manage to hold the spell the longest other than Kat, but everyone gets a turn, even Jenn, who practices as I drive the last stretch.

We make it back to Erica’s house invisible and manage to sneak Fancy into Erica’s garage without anyone noticing.

Ryan and Adib split the rest of the new spellbooks between them and promise to send us updates about their practice at home.

As Jenn drops them off, we set up Fancy with a massive pile of blankets, the rest of her cat food, and a bucket of water. Ana is content to curl up in Erica’s bedroom, settling on her desk on a pile of shimmering makeup.

We devour bowl after bowl of Mrs. Liu’s curry and help ourselves to even more when Jenn gets back, our appetites and energy slowly returning. Happy and full, we all pile into Erica’s bedroom and lay out our sleeping bags.

Kat tells stories about her teacher Mr. Vega and how he’d probably laugh to find out she’s tutoring us, and we in turn share stories about our favorite and most annoying teachers.

It feels almost too exciting to sleep, but before I know it an alarm is beeping, and I wake up with my head tucked into the crook of Kat’s elbow.

She blinks at me blearily. “Is it time?”

“Must be,” I say, disappointment starting to seep into my stomach.

I untangle myself from the sleeping bag and smile; Erica is half in and half out of her bag, her face pressed into Jenn’s thigh as she sleeps upside down, and Jenn is lying flat on her back, her eye mask over her face as she sleeps gracefully.

“We’re gonna head out,” I whisper.

“Nnn,” Erica says, but she shifts and fumbles for her bedside table. “Keys over there.”

Kat is quiet on the drive to the portal location; I concentrate on driving the unwieldy Liu minivan. It feels strange, being out in the middle of the night before the world has woken up.

A couple of times I think Kat’s about to say something, but she pulls herself back. I’m still waking up, otherwise I would have asked about it, but I can barely focus on driving. It isn’t until we’re almost there when she speaks up.

“Yesterday was really nice,” Kat says softly. “I like your friends a lot.”

“I’m so happy we got to spend time together,” I say sleepily.

“It’s weird, spending time with people who don’t…” Kat trails off here. “There’s something I didn’t tell you. About the Ritual. Not that I was trying to keep it a secret, but I’m so used to everyone knowing that when no one did, it was so nice, and I didn’t want to lose that.”

I blink, completely awake now. “What about the Ritual?”

“Remember the prophecy?”

“A prophecy,” I repeat. “Yeah. Mythical hero, epic destiny?”

“The prophecy is about my family—well, just me now.” Kat looks off into the distance. “I’m the Chosen One, apparently.” She glances back at me, waiting for my reaction.

I park on the side of an electric power plant; the street is lined with jacaranda trees, a few persistent blossoms a faint purple against the early morning sky. It feels surreal, the quiet morning, the larger-than-life idea of a prophesied hero in the first place.

I look at Kat, nervous and waiting, as if this news will change how I see her somehow. I just see her, this amazing girl I’ve gotten to know, shouldering this huge burden of expectation. “That sucks,” I offer.

Kat snorts. “Yeah, it really does.” She gives me a sad smile.

“I’m the last of the original Woo bloodline now, of my ancestor Jìngyi Woo, who created the first Ritual.

And everyone is looking to me to fix it, and I just…

I feel like the whole system is broken. And I don’t know what to do.

” Kat’s brown eyes are solemn and her gaze is heavy, with none of the carefree mischievous air that she wore so casually when I met her.

“Everyone just sees the Chosen One, and there isn’t any room for me to be…

me. I don’t even know what that looks like. ”

I take Kat’s hand and squeeze it. “You’re brave and kind and wonderful and you have your own way of seeing things. You will figure it out. And you’re not alone.”

Kat’s fingers curl around mine, and she holds on to me for a long moment as we sit in silence, waiting. “Thank you,” she finally says.

The timer on my phone goes off; we only have a few minutes to get to the portal.

We get out of the car and walk toward the coordinates in silence.

I feel shy and strange. We’d called each other girlfriends, earlier.

Should I hug her? Kiss her? I don’t know what happened to the confident me of yesterday that pulled her into the trees and kissed her passionately.

“I don’t know how long this portal will be open, but we shouldn’t risk it. Here.” Kat presses a sheet of paper into my hand. The dates we’ve already used are crossed out. There’s a few left through the rest of the month, and I recognize one of the dates is prom.

“Do you want to come over to my world? I’d like to introduce you to my dad,” Kat says, tapping one of the dates.

“That would be great,” I say, a touch of nerves seeping into my voice. I’ve never met anyone’s parent as a romantic other before.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.” Kat smiles at me.

I can vaguely think of my calendar, of everything planned out day by day, hour by hour, my own handwriting labeling things this week PRIORITY , but I can’t remember any of it.

“Yes,” I let out a breath, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the way her hair falls down to her shoulders, the blossoms falling around her face.

I think about this wonderful, impossible girl from another world and how I might never see her again, and I also might see her in a few days.

It seems so much up to chance and also so much like it’s inevitable.

As we approach the arched gate into the power plant’s parking lot, a breeze picks up despite the overbearing heat wave and the persistent drought, or maybe in spite of it, bringing with it the scent of freshly fallen leaves in the rain, rich and lush with life.

This air is cool and pleasant, and swirls around us, sweet and beckoning.

I gasp as I see through the gate, a sidewalk covered with flowers, petals clustered together, a thick carpet of purple persisting beyond their world.

It’s jarring how colorful they are, bright and full of energy and life against the dry, barren trees layering my sidewalk.

“That’s different,” Kat says. “We can see through it.”

“You think the portals are changing? Staying open longer?”

“I think if there was a portal big enough for a dragon to get through… anything can happen now,” Kat says.

I nod, watching the time. I want to ask her so many things, but I don’t want to miss my opportunity to say goodbye.

“I have to go.” Kat looks behind me, through to her world, before turning to me, leaning into the fragrant breeze and smiling. “Thanks for showing me around. I had fun meeting your friends. And you know, everything else.”

“Yeah, facing a dragon!” I laugh.

It feels good, though. It’s the most alive I’ve felt in, well… forever. I think about everything I’ve done, the Plan and always working hard, looking forward to some distant future where everything was perfect, and yet I’ve never enjoyed the now.

Kat giggles with me, surprisingly light, and something about her, that rare smile coming to settle on her lips, draws my attention. She glances back at me, her eyes falling to my lips, and she hesitates.

I think about how I used to always tell Jenn and Erica that romance is not in the Plan, and then I think about Kat and the way she stood her ground with a plan to save everyone, eyes blazing and standing with determination, and how good it felt when she asked me to be her girlfriend, how right it feels to be by her side.

Maybe I don’t always have to stick to the Plan.

We don’t know what’s happening with the portals, or the Order, or the mana surges. But I can’t plan for any of that, no one could ever plan for everything that’s going to happen in life.

Maybe I can just be in the now and enjoy what I have and not exist for a future that isn’t here yet.

I pull Kat close and kiss her deeply.

I can feel her smile into the kiss; it’s soft and sweet and wonderful and slow, and I can feel every part of my body tingling. She holds me, wrapping her arms around my waist, and she’s so, so close and then—

She’s gone.

I exhale, and around me is just the barren concrete sidewalk, and the dry, parched air.

The jacaranda trees are still and withered, a few pale blossoms stubbornly clinging to their branches, and the archway is just an archway.

There’s no evidence of another world, or the girl that was here just a few moments before.

“Three days,” I say to the waiting air. “I’ll see you soon, Kat.”