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I’d barely fallen asleep, dreaming about Brenda, when Dad wakes me up, jostling my shoulders. “I need you at the shop,” he says urgently.

“What? What’s wrong?” I follow him downstairs to our anchored portal.

“Stupid mana surge yesterday wrecked Main Street. Bunch of homes and businesses all by the river, too.”

I pull up my runebook and quickly scan the news.

I gulp. A dragon— Ana , my brain helpfully supplies, last seen diminutive and curled up on a fluffy cat bed shaped like a pancake—pushing through the marshy riverbanks of the Los Angeles River, shrubbery and trees sliding off her sharp, violet scales as she takes flight.

Buildings and businesses wrecked, even streetcar lines—shattered bolts of tough iron lying useless across deep chasms in the earth.

The news keeps replaying and repeating the recordings; fear and anger are at an all-time high, people demanding the council take action.

I skip past a placating speech from Mayor Prattlesby and stop on a list of neighborhoods impacted by the latest surge. My stomach feels like a dozen stones have just sunk into it. “Jordan okay?” Their pack lives right by Elysian Park, where the most damage took place.

“Everyone is fine,” Dad says. “Just really rattled. The dragonfire broke through the wards of their house, and I was up late helping them fix it. I told Jordan not to come in today and get some rest.”

“Good.” We walk through the portal, and I grab Jordan’s hat and apron and get to work.

The morning rush is frantic, a tense air about as people gossip over yesterday.

“I heard that the council employed twenty-five mages to immobilize the dragon and teleport it to the Arctic Circle.”

“Ugh, it took me three hours to get to the Grove on the streetcar yesterday—”

“That’s bullshit. I work downtown and saw the whole thing. The dragon just—disappeared.”

“No way!”

“Five transportation hubs destroyed? That’s wild.”

“My cousin’s a wyvern wrangler, and they didn’t get on the scene until the dragon was gone.”

“My dad’s restaurant is completely smashed; this was the worst mana surge ever!”

A strange rumbling sound echoes outside, loud as thunder. I’ve never heard anything like it—

No, I have . It’s an engine—from Brenda’s world.

A few customers rush outside to identify the noise, but it’s gone.

I check my schedule again. There’s nothing for today, nothing at all anywhere in the city. So this must be more of these unpredicted portals.

I shake my head and get back to work.

We have more regulars in the shop than usual for a Sunday, and I pour free shots of Calm into everyone’s tea and coffee.

I always knew the mana surges caused trouble, but it was distant, a problem for someone else if their environmental spells went haywire.

The earthquakes are new, and it feels a little too close to home as my friends and neighbors crowd into the shop, looking for a reprieve.

Exhausted from the day’s work, I crawl into bed. I thought I’d have time to investigate Mom’s research more, but there had hardly been a spare moment in between comforting regulars and helping out our neighbors.

At school, conversations die down as I push my way through the hallway in a tired daze. Everyone stares at me openly. Like they’re waiting for me to do something.

“Are you okay?”

I look up from my runebook and close yet another news report.

Hannah nudges a muffin onto my desk. It looks inviting, glistening with a brown sugar streusel topping. I stare dumbly at it.

“You look like you could use breakfast,” Hannah says.

I take a bite and swallow the warm pastry. “Thanks,” I say, feeling a fondness from long conversations over boba and laughing during idleball practices with the other girls.

“Wild stuff happening. You and your dad okay? The shop get hit at all?”

I shake my head. “Main Street is in shambles, though. I think half the block has moved into the coffeeshop and is doing business there.” I didn’t have the heart to tell Mrs. Sanchez she couldn’t sell her crocheted pot holders and ended up just setting her up a table so she could chat with customers yesterday.

I’d popped into the shop this morning to help as much as I could; by the time I left for school an informal sort of market with our neighbors had sprung up in our tiny coffeeshop.

Once class starts I tap out a message to Dad to check in. You okay at the shop?

Yeah , Dad writes back. Jordan’s coming in with Rachel and the kids. They needed something to do.

Tell them I said hi. And I hope Tim’s wolfy sideburns are starting to grow in.

I see the swirling pause on the screen as Dad hesitates, editing his next words. It feels strange, but nice, bridging that distance between us since Mom died.

So busy yesterday we didn’t even get to chat. I missed you. You said you went to Echo Mountain on Saturday?

I had a date , I say, taking the plunge. Her name’s Brenda. I really like her.

The bell rings, and everyone scrambles to their feet, chattering away.

“You have Martinez next, right? I’m over in the next building, wanna walk together?”

I nod, following Hannah out the door. She tells me about Jamie’s new prom dress, and how she bought the same dress the week before, and would it be cheesy if they wore the same dress, or would it be matching-couple-cute.

It feels strangely normal, and I find myself actually participating in the conversation.

“Do you want to wear the same dress, though?”

Hannah snorts. “Not really, but Jamie seems very excited about it.”

I peer at the photo in Hannah’s runebook. “What if you altered yours? Different corset or petticoat? Keep the overskirt, so you have the same colors and complement each other.”

Hannah beams. “That sounds perfect!”

“I’ve got some alteration spells I haven’t used yet,” I offer. “Birthday gift from my godmother last year.”

“Oooh! I’m free this afternoon. Do you have a dress yet? Shopping date?”

I blink. I hadn’t thought about that. When is prom, anyway? Is that a thing Brenda would want to do? Could we even do it? “No dress, but my girlfriend doesn’t live in town, so—”

“ Girlfriend?! ” Hannah shrieks and bounces up and down. “Oh my god, you have to tell me everything. I’ll see you after school!”

She leaps forward and hugs me before I realize it, and I hug her back, startled and pleased.

I glance at my runebook. There’s a long pause between messages, like Dad started to write something and then kept editing it, but I can imagine his warm smile, excitement behind his eyes.

Can’t wait to meet her.

The bell rings and I’m late for class again, but this time instead of intentionally being late to show people I don’t care about being the Chosen One, it’s for a normal reason, like texting and getting distracted talking to a friend.

“Katherine Woo to the principal’s office,” Ms. Applebaum’s amplified syrupy voice commands, echoing through the hallways.

I frown, wondering if I had any pranks I forgot about that had gone off on a timer or something. I scramble to my feet and grab my backpack, ignoring the curious looks thrown my way as I head out of the classroom and down the hall.

Principal Martin ushers me into her office and then leaves, closing the door behind her.

Sitting at her desk is Gravery Kirkpatrick, the head of the Mages’ Council.

He’s frowning, his ancient face lined with distaste, perhaps at the clutter on Principal Martin’s desk, or maybe it was something he ate that morning.

Awkwardly hovering behind him is Mayor Prattlesby, wringing his hands together nervously.

“Hi, Kat,” Mayor Prattlesby says, overly familiar.

“’Sup, Uncle Chris.”

He laughs nervously, like he hasn’t asked me to call him that since I was eight. I never have, not that I ever had reason to; I only hung out with Shannon, and she never wanted me to call her Aunt , said it made her feel old.

“Ms. Woo,” Kirkpatrick says, tapping his fingers on the desk. “I’m sure you’re aware of our current dire straits.”

“Disaster as usual,” I say flippantly. “What else is new?”

“It isn’t as usual,” he responds, leaning forward. “This is confidential information. The incident with the dragon—it isn’t isolated. There have been other strange, unexplainable events. All of which have been dangerous. All of which must be stopped.”

I wonder what the other things are, and think about the engine from this morning. If a dragon got through a portal to Brenda’s world… what else has come to ours?

“Sure,” I say noncommittally.

“So you agree,” Kirkpatrick says. “Something must be done.”

It feels like a trap.

“You are doing it, though,” I point out. “You’ve got the Ritual scheduled and everything.”

“Well, uh, we are almost set to go,” Mayor Prattlesby says. “We’ve got four cornerstones volunteered. We just need the fifth.”

“Right,” I drawl out. “Good luck with that. I’ve got class, so.”

“Young lady,” Kirkpatrick commands, his voice steeling with icy conviction.

He hands me a sheet of paper that’s been sitting on the desk.

I’d thought it was some of Principal Martin’s paperwork, but this has the official seal of Los Angeles on it.

“Your father said some quite rude things to me when I asked him this morning, but I’m hoping you’ll understand and persuade him otherwise. ”

Parent/Guardian Consent for Participation in a Level-Five Spell as a Minor.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Mayor Prattlesby says.

“I just—people are suffering, Kat.” His voice drops, and he looks so pale and small.

“Please. Think about everyone in the city.” He sighs.

“And the projections aren’t just numbers, you know—based on the earthquake yesterday, if we don’t do the Ritual, it’s likely that it will be really, really bad. ”

The catastrophic event. The one Jìngyi Woo prevented way back in 1909.

Has the Ritual just been a dam, holding the water back? What did Mom write in her notes— it’s not working .

What if the Ritual isn’t a form of protection, and instead we’re just plopping stones in front of a crack, hoping to stem an inevitable flood?

Gravery Kirkpatrick stands up and straightens his cravat.

He fixes me with a cold look. “Your mother was one of the most talented and dedicated mages I’d ever met.

Her contributions in research, her commitment to her community made her a gift to the world.

I expect you of all people to understand why she chose to be a cornerstone. ”

My heart drops into my stomach. I’d expected it, of course, but I’d been distracted, sure that I had more time, sure that Dad would say no and that would be that, not that the council would corner me at school and use my mom to guilt-trip me into this.

Kirkpatrick jerks his head and the mayor hops to his feet, trailing after him to the door like a loyal lapdog.

“You know, prophecies have been misinterpreted before. But I think this one is clear. You are the last of Jìngyi Woo’s descendants.

” He exhales, his deep voice exuding a strength at odds with his frail body.

“This could be the last Ritual if you participate. It would mean peace, for all Los Angeles.”

“And if I don’t?”

He opens the door. Outside, Principal Martin is watching a news broadcast on a large runescreen mounted on the wall where reporters interview desolate business owners amid the earthquake wreckage.

“Then I’m afraid this will only get worse.”