Page 122 of No Charm Done

Luna stepped into the alley like she owned the entire neighborhood. Her clothes were eminently practical: trousers, boots, a jacket that looked modern but not aggressively so. Her hair was pulled back. She had a clipboard in one hand.

Elias couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t process the fact that Luna—Luna—was standing in an alley in 1926, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. Not angry. But not warm either. Professional. Controlled.

Oh God. She’s here to tell me everyone’s dead. Or that I failed. Or that⁠—

His throat closed and his hands shook. He wanted to ask if she was safe, if CastR had been stopped, if he’d at least managed to do something right. But he couldn’t make words come out.

Luna’s professional expression cracked slightly. Just for a second, something vulnerable flashed across her face before she composed herself again. “Pardon,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “Are you Mr. Elias Shaw?”

He still couldn’t speak. Was she here to rescue him? Punish him? Tell him he’d destroyed everything?

She cleared her throat. “I’m here on behalf of the newly formed Magician-Witch Truth and Reconciliation Committee, or MW-T&RC.”

“The . . . what? Is this a joke?”

“MW-T&RC. No joke, not at all. It all began with my mother’s speech at the— Oh. Of course you don’t remember that. It was in Oak Haven. Well, she talked about how it was time to repair our two warring communities. Teams of researchers, one witch and one magician per team. They travel through time, investigating historical conflicts between witches and magicians. To discover what happened—not just the old stories that get passed down, but what truly occurred. We’ll take our research back to the MW-T&RC, and the committee will determine what reparations, if any, are due from whom and to whom and why. Mama hopes that this will begin—admittedly, quite slowly—but it will begin to create a foundation for peace between us.”

Why won’t she just tell me if everyone’s okay?

“I’m here looking for a researcher to join me. Your résumé is . . .” Luna pretended to study her clipboard, but Shaw sensed she wasn’t actually reading it “. . . unconventional. There’s a rather confusing hundred-year gap.”

“Yeaahh, I was, um. Indisposed.”

“That’s putting it mildly. But you come highly recommended.”

“Luna—” His voice came out hoarse. “Is everyone— Are you⁠—”

“The job comes with benefits. Flexible hours. Extensive travel across time.” She looked up, and her eyes were bright with something he couldn’t identify. Tears? Anger? “Room and board included. Of course, budgets are tight, so . . . we may have to share.”

His chest felt like it was splitting open.

She was here. She was actually here. Standing in front of him. Offering him a way out.

“What do you say?” Luna’s voice cracked on the last word. “Partners?”

The word broke something in him.

“Luna.” Her name came out barely above a whisper. “Luna, I-I need to know—did it work? Is everyone okay? Are you⁠—”

But she was already moving, crossing the space between them in one leap, and then she was in his arms and they were both shaking and he was holding her like she might disappear if he let go.

“You’re here,” Elias managed finally, his face buried in her hair. “You’re actually here.”

“Of course I’m here, dummy.” Luna pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands framing his face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. “Did you really think I was going to leave you in 1926?”

“I didn’t know. I thought maybe—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t voice the fear that had been eating him alive for three months.

“We won,” Luna said. “CastR is destroyed. Vex is gone. Everyone is fine. Burke got away, unfortunately. He hasn’t been seen since the Fourth. But the point is, we won, Elias. You won.”

The relief hit him so hard his knees buckled. She had to hold him up, her arms tight around him.

“And you . . . The last time I saw you, you were so angry. Understandably. I stole from you, I lied to you, I⁠—”

“I know.” Her voice was soft. “You were genuinely terrible.”

“I tried to telephone. To warn you about the wards. But Delilah⁠—”

“I know that, too. She told me.” Luna’s hand brushed away tears he hadn’t realized were falling. “Elias, I forgave you. We talked. We made up. We were . . . together.”