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“There hasn’t been a phoenix rebirth in several hundred years, it wouldn’t be possible. I got the last of my contact’s supply for Vicky for this spell.” Uncle Chau winks at me. “You’re a smart girl. Figure it out.”

He hums to himself, setting the jars back in the crate and packing them carefully. He starts to pick it up, but I grab it first.

“I got it, Uncle. You should be careful with those stairs.”

He beams at me as I heave the heavy crate up the stairs, thinking about what he said. With one phoenix feather, I won’t have enough power to go all the way back to 1909 and see Jìngyi.

I gasp as the idea strikes me. I won’t need to. All I need is to go back and see Mom’s memory.

“What do I owe you?” I ask.

“Please, I’m happy to help.” Uncle Chau snorts in distaste. “That council has been telling everyone in Los Angeles the Ritual is here to protect people. Bah! They wouldn’t listen to Vicky’s ideas.”

I blink at him. “So you did know what—”

“No! I told her I didn’t want to know her plans,” Uncle Chau says.

“You know, when I was still a young man, the council asked me to be a cornerstone. I almost said yes. Thought it would be an honor. But my brother volunteered in the end. And he became an old man at twenty-three, and died not even two years later.”

Oh. Everyone knows only two people have survived the Ritual; Gravery Kirkpatrick, and one other. I had no idea.

Uncle Chau sighs. “Whatever Vicky Woo was working on, it was important. And I know you’ll see it through.” He gives me a watery smile. “Remember, the mana charged in these ingredients is very delicate. You can’t bend space around them—”

“No otherspace pockets or teleportation, got it.” I nod, and he disappears back into the shop.

I hug the crate close to my chest the entire trolley ride home.

Somehow his unwavering belief and pride in me hits harder than the expectations that random people have come to associate with me and the prophecy. Uncle Chau believes I can do it.

And he’s not just talking about the Ritual, or the prophecy.

“I’m going to figure this out, Mom,” I whisper to myself. “Whatever conspiracy you were uncovering, what you knew about the Ritual that other people didn’t want you to know… I’m going to find out.”

I help myself to Mom’s best-quality supplies for the spell.

I diligently paint runes onto thousand-thread-count linens, making sure to note the changes in the spell.

There actually should be even more potency to the spell with one full phoenix feather, and I’m not going back as far. The memory will be crisper, clearer.

Her brewing station isn’t as elaborate as Dad’s, but it’ll do for the preparation potion, especially as I don’t want anyone asking questions.

I carefully start with the nganhang seeds, roasting them in the cast iron cauldron while I steep the linzi.

I’ve never worked with ingredients like this; I can’t afford to make any mistakes, so I measure carefully and follow Mom’s instructions with painstaking deliberation.

The second iteration of the spell has a space for another memory traveler. I wonder who Mom was planning to bring with her. Someone from the council? No, she suspected they were colluding or something with the Order. Who else? Who did she trust most?

I finish the potion and set it aside. It has to simmer overnight, and then it’ll be ready.

A familiar voice, muffled through the otherspace anchor, wafts into Mom’s office.

“Knock, knock! I don’t know if you saw my message, duckling, but I thought it would be nice if we brought dinner. Kat? Are you home?”

Shannon!

“Just a minute!”

I fold the spell diagram and stash the ingredients away. I wonder if Mom had confided in Shannon about her suspicions. That makes perfect sense, actually—Shannon would have the influence to back Mom’s findings, especially if they implicated the council in something corrupt.

I exit the otherspace, waving my hand at the door. I draw a new locking pattern, closing it with my namekey. I’m not sure exactly why I took the extra step, but some instinct is guiding me. Just in case , a suspicious voice inside me says.

I bound downstairs and throw open the front door. “Shannon! So glad to see you!”

She wraps me in a soft hug and places a kiss on top of my head, her familiar rose perfume settling around me.

I pull her inside, then notice her husband awkwardly standing behind her. “Oh, and hi… Uncle Chris.”

“Hello, Kat,” he says, looking like a guilty child. “Look, about this morning. You know that I had to, the council really puts me in a bind about these things—”

“Okay,” I say, sidestepping the not-apology. I do take the warm grocery bag he hands me, though, and bring it inside.

I message Dad to let him know Shannon and the mayor are here, but he already knows since he’s been checking his runebook all afternoon and not planning an epic time travel mission.

Shannon smiles at me. “How are you doing, Kat? Is that Advanced Spelling class treating you well?”

“It’s been kind of fun, actually,” I say, and find myself meaning it.

We talk about school and prom and Shannon teases me about Brenda, humming happily when I tell her about my new girlfriend.

Dad arrives home with an armful of day-old milk bread buns and a warm hug for me. He squeezes me longer than I expected, and I wonder what exactly he said to Kirkpatrick. Maybe a few choice curse words.

We sit down and eat the tamales from Shannon’s favorite vendor in Boyle Heights. I unpeel another one, savoring it as Dad and Christopher talk about the dragon and the chaos of yesterday.

“I just have to say, Sam,” Shannon says delicately, “it was inappropriate of the council to barge into Kat’s school to convince her to be a cornerstone. And after you denied permission, too!”

Dad glances at me. “What? When, today?”

“Yeah, they pulled me out of second period and handed me a consent form for you.”

“Gravery insisted,” Christopher says. “It’s really… we don’t exactly have another choice at this point.”

“Of course we do!” Shannon says indignantly. “Find another cornerstone. You have applications from many mages ready to make the commitment. Pull another one out of that stack.”

“It’s not that simple.” Christopher shakes his head.

“Not all of them are qualified, and Gravery said that would drastically affect the effectiveness of the stabilization. Tension in the city is at an all-time high. People need assurance and support, not just another Ritual. They need to know we have the solution.”

Shannon scoffs. “The greatest mages in the city can’t find a solution? I’m surprised. Alvarez herself could probably power two thirds of the Ritual.”

Dad nods emphatically before taking another bite of his tamale. “Well, she’s an adult and she can choose to do it. But Kat is underage. And I won’t allow it. So that is that.”

Christopher glances at Shannon, who pats me empathetically on my arm. He gives her a pleading look. “I thought we came over here to…”

“Comfort and support our dear friends, of course,” Shannon says, glaring at him. She turns to me. “Now, Kat, don’t worry about all this. It’s not your responsibility. You focus on you —go to school, do your homework, go to prom with that fabulous new girlfriend of yours!”

Dad’s eyes soften. “So, she’s your girlfriend now,” he says, a smile quirking on his lips. “Tell me more.”

“Brenda goes to San Pablo, and uh, is really into magical theory. We bonded over spellcraft, and uh, animals.” If by animals you mean escaping wyverns and helping a wayward dragon.

“She’s really cute and funny and smart and wants to make such a big difference in the world.

” It’s easy to talk about Brenda, her laugh, her smile, and for a moment I can forget about the Ritual and just be excited about her.

Dad asks lots of questions and laughs when I tell him about Brenda’s nineteen-point plan and how cute her detail orientation can be.

He laughs. “Your mom used to organize everything. You know, when we first moved in together, the first time I put away the laundry I messed up what apparently was a very particular arrangement of socks.”

Shannon chuckles. “Vicky was like that with all her work, too. When we were in school all her notes would always be color coded, chronologically dated and everything. People used to fight over copies for studying.”

The rest of dinner is as usual—they talk about the city, the coffeeshop, and Dad asks after Christopher’s growing collection of antique porcelain gnomes.

There’s a faint sense of the elephant in the room still with us, but with Dad’s resolved no hanging in the air, Christopher doesn’t seem to want to push it.

Shannon follows me into the kitchen as I wrap up milk bread for them to take home.

“You okay?” she asks.

“I think so,” I say. Everything Shannon has said tonight has helped. She’s right. It isn’t my personal responsibility to save the world. I can try to help, but it’s—it’s still my choice. No one is going to force me to do anything I don’t want to do.

“You’re more than they deserve, you know,” Shannon says, leaning on the counter. “The city. They expect so much of you. Just like they did of your sweet mother.”

“Did she ever…” I don’t know how to start. I want to tell her everything. About the two worlds, about where Brenda really is from, about what Mom was working on.

Shannon looks at me curiously, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

I trail off and sigh.

“I don’t care what some silly prophecy says,” Shannon says gently. “And your mother didn’t, either.”

I think about Mom’s notes, her every thought analyzing the prophecy, trying to see in between the lines of what could be possible.

“I told her not to do it,” Shannon says, a curtain of grief falling over her eyes. “She insisted. I said the Ritual can and will go on without you, as it has done for a hundred years.”

“Did she… what did Mom think about the council? Their decisions on the Ritual and all that?”

Shannon snorts. “That they were old fuddy-duddies trying not to lose face. Ever since that prophecy was made public, it was all about getting a Woo as a cornerstone to fulfill some preordained notion that this is going to end. It’s like the tide. It’s not going to end. We just have to weather it.”

“You think so?” I’ve never heard Shannon talk about the mana surges this way.

“My grandfather once told me with everything being inevitable, we just have to make sure we’re on top when the storm comes in so we can ride it out best we can.

” She looks out into the distance, her gaze heavy.

“You know, our ancestors cast a long shadow when they created that first Stabilization Ritual. That’s a lot of pressure to live up to. ”

“Yeah,” I admit. Jìngyi’s legacy seemed distant with the space of time, and her story always felt wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. It was only after Mom died, when it became clear that the prophecy meant me now, that the pressure became suffocating, terrifying.

“You are not Jìngyi,” Shannon says, fixing me with a steady gaze. “You are Katherine Woo, a wonderful young lady with a bright future ahead. You’re going to take your girlfriend to the prom. You’re going to have a great time, graduate from high school, and then do whatever you damn well please.”

I swallow hard, the appreciation sticking in my throat with the anxiety that’s been rising in me all day. Something like relief starts to settle. I can do this. I can just… say no.

Something prickles at me. Unanswered questions. Mom was the first cornerstone whose body wasn’t released back to family. It’s like something different happened with this Ritual. Something the council doesn’t want anyone to find out.

“Are you busy tomorrow? Can I show you something? It’s important.” I can take Shannon back through Mom’s memories, and then she can take charge and talk to the council, do whatever needs to be done to fix everything.

“You can tell me anything, duckling,” Shannon says, and then sighs. “But unfortunately I’m heading out of town tonight—I’m hosting these tours for all our scholarship finalists at each flagship factory. I’ll probably be back within a week. Want to pencil me in then?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I say, trying not to let the disappointment show. “It’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”

Shannon hugs me. “Remember what I said. You have to put yourself first. Always.”