16
Nyx returned to the border alone. Kaden had already gone back, and Griff had opted to remain inside, after she’d told him about Tristen’s similarity to Seth. He would manage later, when he needed to, but given the briefness of the meeting and their need to be off, he hadn’t wanted the awkwardness of the moment now.
It was just as well, since she came back to find a jittery Tristen. He was pacing back and forth, arms crossed, fingers tapping against his biceps. He looked agitated, his eyes wild, and if he'd been a stranger, she'd have guessed he was in a drug withdrawal.
His gaze snapped to her. “Please tell me you have something I can fix."
She halted. "What?"
"Headache. Muscle spasm. Aching joints. Period cramps. Anything?"
"He's experiencing an excess of magic," Morgen explained. “Shamanic magic has to be used or the excess makes them”—he pointed at Tristen—“like that. The problem, and I am merely theorizing here based on the data I have to work with, is that he's lived in Dead Earth where magic is repressed, and his body has had to work triple time to produce magic. Now he's here, where producing magic is significantly easier, and his body doesn't know how to turn off the tap.”
“You're telling me it’s like he’s Goku when he was training at a hundred times gravity and now he’s back on normal ground?”
Morgen's brows drew together. “As much as I have learned of Earth’s culture, I can’t say I have any idea what you’re referring to.”
“It’s from an anime show,” Kaden said. To Nyx he said, “Basically like that.”
Tristen stopped pacing to stare at Kaden. “You've watched Dragon Ball Z?”
He’d watched it because Nyx had seen the first season in Bookman’s and been struck by the sense that she’d always wanted to see it. It was one of those rare feelings she’d had on occasion that managed to make it through her mother’s Hiding. Kaden had bought it even though she'd told him not to, and then he’d bought her the next season, and the next, and the next, and he’d watched them all with her.
“Never mind,” Tristen said, when Kaden didn’t answer. He turned back to Nyx. “So how about it?”
“Sorry, but I don’t have a headache or aching joints, and I’m not on my period.”
“Figures.” He looked like he was about to bite through his lip just so he would have something to heal.
“We could take you to Tobi. Maybe the Congregation—”
“No.” Tristen said it so flatly it was clear he wasn’t going to budge on the issue. He hadn’t said as much, but he seemed to have some internalized fear that once he talked to the Congregation, he’d cease to have any independent life of his own.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“I don't know,” he gritted out. “It would help if someone was dying.”
“Let's get you to Raveras,” Morgen said. “My mother does charity work with some of the hospitals. Plenty of people in the critical wards who would be happy for a miracle and not look too closely at where it came from.”
“Yeah, okay.” Tristen looked at Nyx. “Can we go?”
“We can try.” Enough time should have passed for Evra to reach Morgen’s mother and explain things.
Layering her Hidden magic over the portal magic she pulled from Alihana, Nyx slipped into the core of the former and sifted through her workings. She had so many pieces scattered across the universe now—little Hidings to serve as anchors here, in the Shadow Market, in Serenity’s room on Endalna, in Jevryn’s home—and each one called to her.
She found that newest one and reached for it, a figurine she’d wrapped her magic around to provide an instant link for the portal magic that spilled off her fingertips. A tear in the universe split open, widened, and Nyx was looking out from Earth and into a sunny, white-walled room. Two chairs with a small table between them faced the portal, as if they had been staged particularly for this event. A clear glass pitcher filled with blue liquid, pieces of cut fruit floating on the surface, rested on the table.
Evra sat in one of the chairs, a half-empty glass of the beverage in her hands. She looked remarkably relaxed, given the state she’d left the Station in, and she perked up as the portal opened. The other chair was occupied by a tall, stately woman with deep black skin, her hair braided and twisted into an elaborate knot piled high atop her head, adorned with small white seashells and gold thread. Her flowing dress of bright yellow and purple brought out the warmth in her brown eyes, which peered intently ahead of her when she noticed Evra perk up.
“Are they here?” she asked, Nyx’s Hiding taking a hit as it struggled against the woman’s attempt to see through it.
“Yes,” Evra said, which was all the confirmation Nyx needed to drop the Hiding. Morgen’s face broke into a wide smile and he stepped through the portal first, followed by Kaden, then Tristen and Nyx.
The woman rose, pulling Morgen into a tight hug. “All of my wayward children are finally home.”
Nyx took the all in that sentence and came to the sinking realization that Maruca was here somewhere.
The woman squeezed Morgen a little tighter, as if afraid he wasn’t actually there. “I should be used to you being gone so long by now, but I never am.”