I wake up slowly and peacefully, stirred from my sleep by the sound of fierce winds rattling the windows. Stray leaves smack against the glass, carried on the stormy gusts. The last remaining droplets from last night’s storm drum against the panes.

I stretch out in my bed, cozy beneath the blankets with the wind rushing against the windows. I look at Aiden, who is still deeply asleep, his arm wrapped around me, his fingertips resting in the dimples at the base of my spine.

My heart overflows as I remember everything from last night. I tuck a strand of chestnut hair out of Aiden’s face, looking at him with adoring eyes.

I lay there for a long time, swimming through those memories. My fingertips on Aiden’s cheek, his sleepy breaths breaking against my palm.

I could easily stay like this for hours, but eventually I slip out of bed to go rinse off. I spend a while beneath the hot water, enjoying my moment of peace before I have to get going for the day. Then I head to the kitchen, yawning, pulling on my flannel. I start making a pot of coffee, and a mental to-do list.

I should check in with the ghosts, see how they’re doing with cracking the code. I also want to check on Aiden’s Tree, make sure that it’s healthy. And I should probably go to the exhibition space before my shift at the shop, get some work done on that.

As my mind turns to the exhibition, I wonder about the piece of guerilla art we helped Ripley execute at the bus station. I wonder if it’s still intact, or if it’s still up at all. Would it make the news again, if they were going to tear it all down? It made the news when it all went up.

I find the remote for the TV and flip it on, then lower the volume so that I don’t wake up Aiden. I flip through the channels until I find the local news station. Looks like I woke up early enough to catch the morning broadcast.

I push my still-wet hair out of my eyes, then turn around to get down two mugs, half-listening to the TV. The wild wind outside makes my window panes tremble as I pour out the coffee. I shiver a little, cradling my mug in my hands, grateful for the heat of it.

I take a long sip, let it warm me, and begin making a cup for Aiden. I think I hear him stirring in the bed, maybe roused by the scent of fresh coffee. I smile to myself, thinking of how this little ritual will feel when we finally have our own place.

Then I stop and twist to look at the TV. Not because I heard anything about the bus station or the exhibition, but - something else.

I stare at the footage playing on the screen, then set down my coffee and turn up the volume.

“-firefighters are still battling the blaze, trying to contain the fire before it can reach the homes and farms in its path. Residents have not been able to evacuate due to the speed with which the fire spread last night, which has made road conditions too dangerous. Officials believe the wildfire was caused by a lightning strike in the early hours of this morning…”

The reporter goes on talking, but I’ve stopped listening. I’m staring with wide eyes, watching the footage of the wildfire.

Flames tear through farmland and forest alike. Burning utility poles have fallen across the roads. Vivid orange sparks are scattering through the air, gusts of wind sending bursts of flames from treetop to treetop. Thick plumes of smoke hang darkly in the orange sky, above grass dry enough to act as tinder.

Firefighters are down on one knee to aim their heavy hoses, wearing wildland tactical gear, shouting into their radios.

Mercifully, it doesn’t look like this is anywhere near Aiden’s Tree. It is happening in Ketterbridge, but in more rural land far to the west of town. The storm didn’t hit there last night, and the area got no rain, only thunder and lightning. The reporter explains that powerful winds and dry conditions are making this a difficult, dangerous blaze to fight, and that firefighters are rushing to contain this before it can reach the people who are trapped, unable to evacuate.

I’m so absorbed in watching that I don’t realize Aiden has come out of my bedroom until he says something.

“Jamie.”

He says it very softly, but my gaze snaps right to him. Something in his voice sent a chill down my spine.

I go very still when I see his eyes. They’re a specific color that I know all too well. A glowing, swirling, icy blue. But even if I didn’t recognize the color, the terrified expression on my Guardian’s face would tell me everything.

I turn slowly back to the TV, to the wildfire tearing across the screen. I press my fingers over my mouth, my eyes widening.

“Oh, no,” I whisper.

~~~~

We get there fast, this time.

For once, we already know where we’re going. Aiden doesn’t have to struggle to track down the location. Nor do we have to double back or scramble to find a road that will lead us in the direction of the sound. All I have to do is put the location in my maps app, then cringe when a warning automatically pops up, letting me know that the roads are closed for an emergency.

I hold Aiden’s hand as I drive, squeezing his fingers, doing whatever I can to help him cope with the painful sound of the ailing soul.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he stammers, talking much more loudly than usual, adjusting for the noise that I can’t hear. “We’ve - got more - more time…”

He closes his blue eyes, wincing sharply.

“We’ve got more time,” he tries again, “Than we usually d-”

“Holy shit, Aiden,” I gasp, and he opens his eyes, follows my gaze to the window.

Walls of roaring orange flames rise up in the fields on the left-hand side of the road, tearing through the grass, climbing up the barren trees. The fire reaches feet above the tallest canopies, burning its way up the branches and flaring in the wind. Charcoal-colored smoke hangs thick and heavy over everything, making the early morning dark, making it impossible to see beyond the flames. A heat-haze ripples the air around the dancing fire, obscuring our sightlines even further.

As we watch, one of the trees goes down in a shower of molten sparks.

“Jamie,” Aiden says, bringing my attention back to the road.

A fire department official is standing by a traffic barrier up ahead, waving his arms and shouting at us. I stop my car before him, put it in park. Aiden and I step out into a storm of searing hot wind. The fire is some distance back from the road, but it scorches even from here.

“You can’t go this way!” The guy is having to shout over the roar of the fire. “Can’t you see the-?”

“We’re supposed to be here, we’re from City Hall!” Aiden shouts back, holding up his ID badge. It doesn’t say his job title, so it’s possible that we could pass as people from the Emergency Management Department.

The guy squints at the badge, then shakes his head.

“They didn’t tell us anything about-” He breaks off as the wind carries a fireball into a row of yet untouched trees, setting all of them alight. “Jesus!”

He pulls out a radio and starts talking into it rapidly. Aiden and I look at each other, and I see my own growing panic reflected in his eyes. I’m seriously considering just making a fucking break for it, trying to sprint past and hope for the best. Aiden is clearly thinking the same thing.

We both tense up, poised to run.

“-on the alpha side, over,” the man is saying into his radio. He releases the button and looks at me and Aiden. “Alright, listen to me - stay on this road. This is a secure area. See the lights down there? That’s base, for the moment. You’re gonna have to speak to the crew boss, if you’re trying to stay on-site.”

I let out a gasp of relief, then turn and rush back towards the car, Aiden sprinting at my side.

“Thank you!” I yell over my shoulder, but the guy is already busy dragging the traffic barrier out of the way.

We tear down the road towards the sea of flashing lights. Firetrucks and ambulances are grouped up together, parked haphazardly on the asphalt. People in emergency response uniforms are everywhere.

Aiden and I step out of the car, staring around. The sky overhead is black and orange. The curtain of smoke hides what’s going on at the nearest point in the fire, as do the torrents of water coming from the hoses.

I would expect everyone here to be on high alert, but still mostly calm. These are trained professionals, and they’re used to situations like this. Even when the Ghost Office was fully on fire, there were two firefighters watching from the truck, unconcerned, speaking calmly to dispatch.

But I immediately sense a kind of frenzied, panicked energy here. People are shouting into radios, running, rushing.

Thank god for Ketterbridge being such a tiny town, because I instantly spot a familiar face in the crowd. One of my dad’s poker buddies, Cassandra. She’s in her full firefighting gear, leaning back heavily against one of the trucks. She’s got her mask pulled down, ash smeared on her face, and she’s taking long sips from a bottle of water.

I rush for her, pulling Aiden with me. “Cassie!”

She twists to look at me, startled. Then she pushes herself upright, a baffled, alarmed expression on her face.

“Jamie? What the hell are you-?”

“Cassie - I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to explain! We were supposed to talk to the crew boss? We need to know what’s happening!”

“Crew boss is busy, she doesn’t have time to talk right now.” Cassie sounds as exhausted as she looks. I wonder if she’s been here all night, since the lightning first struck. “We’re dealing with a crisis.”

“Yeah, I mean-” I gesture at the fire. “We know.”

“No, it’s - the wind slowed down, so we sent out a twenty-five-man crew to clear some debris, cut a firebreak before the blaze can get to the houses.” Cassie points south with a gloved hand. “But the wind switched directions and picked up again, and the crew got cut off from base. We’ve lost radio contact, and we can’t locate them - look, this is a serious emergency, okay? You two need to get-”

“Twenty-five?” Aiden interrupts, all the color draining from his face. “Twenty-five people?”

“Twenty-five firefighters,” Cassie says firmly. “They’re trained for this, and they’re probably going to be fine, but-”

A massive gust of wind sends the fire roaring even higher. Cassie turns to look at it, and I seize Aiden’s hand, horrified. I can’t tell if I’m tearing up because of the searing heat, or from pure panic. I look up at Aiden, trying to hold it together.

I have to shout to be heard, but no one is listening, anyways. “Are they all still alive?”

Aiden nods, then lifts the brim of his snapback, lets me get a better look at the ice-blue magic still swirling in his eyes. Suddenly, to me, it looks like hope.

But time is running out. We got here way earlier than we have to any of our other rescues, thank god, but I can hear those seconds ticking down in my head, just tick tick ticking down -

“What do we do?” I stammer, and Aiden takes in a strained, terrified breath. I think he might be reading my lips, to understand me over the combination of internal and external noise.

“I - I don’t know,” he says desperately. “I don’t-”

“Kasey!” I shout, hit with a sudden burst of inspiration. “Will!”

They appear on either side of us immediately. They must have heard the panic in my voice.

Their eyes go right to the fire, and Kasey gasps, flinging her hands up over her mouth. Will seizes hold of her and draws her further back, forgetting for a moment that she can’t be harmed.

“People are missing in that!” I shout to the ghosts. “Twenty-five firefighters! We need to find them, so we can help!”

“They went south!” Aiden adds, catching on. “They were cutting a firebreak - look for the firebreak!”

As always, Kasey is five steps ahead of us.

“We’re on it!” she shouts, and springs out of Will’s arms, sprints directly for the fire.

He takes a sharp breath, then rushes after her.

I see the flames right through their translucent bodies as they run together, see Will grab Kasey’s hand just before they reach the line where the world disappears into fire and smoke.

Holding hands, they leap together into oblivion, and disappear.

I watch as the two ghosts vanish into the flames. Aiden doesn’t, because he can’t see them. We didn’t bring the glasses with us. He knows what’s happening, though, and I can see the relief in his eyes that at least we’ve done something, anything.

But twenty-five people are still missing, and we’re losing precious seconds just standing here -

A burst of shouting seizes our attention. We both whip around to see a big group of firefighters stumbling and staggering out of the smoke.

They’re following the path cut into the fire by the hoses, their shiny turnout gear reflecting back the glow of the flames. They have axes, chainsaws, pikes, shovels - the kind of tools you’d use to cut a firebreak.

No doubt about it. This is the missing crew.

So - why are Aiden’s eyes still swirling with magic, like someone is in danger, someone we’re supposed to help?

Other firefighters go rushing forward to help the ones returning. Cassie takes off to join them. Paramedics leap down from the ambulances and follow on her heels.

A tall, muscular woman in station clothes strides up to the group. I figure she’s probably the crew boss that we were supposed to speak to. She stands back from the crowd, doing a silent headcount, the red lights from the trucks flashing against her face.

The flames behind the gathered group burst and roar, sending up a new shower of burning shrapnel.

“What happened?” Cassie shouts, as one of the returning firefighters pulls down his mask.

“Wind turned on us,” he gasps, wrenching off his helmet. “We had to fall back, couldn’t see or hear a damn thing, we were about to get trapped-”

“We’re missing one,” the crew boss suddenly interrupts, pitching her voice over all the noise. “Andrew, what happened? Someone's missing!”

Andrew coughs into his glove, struggling to speak. Cassie presses her water bottle into his hands, and he takes a long, choking sip. Cassie and the crew boss wait, matching looks of frozen fear on their faces.

“He - was up ahead,” Andrew finally gasps. “He was leading the line, trying to finish cutting the break, he - he didn’t hear the fallback order! He got cut off from us, and we couldn’t reach him, we lost sight of him, couldn’t find him, couldn’t get him on the radio - we had to fall back, we had to, there was no other-”

Andrew stops and takes a staggering breath, a devastated expression rising on his face.

“I was right next to him,” he stammers, his voice breaking. “I should have grabbed him, I should have-”

“Andrew!” the crew boss cuts in sharply. “Who are we missing? Who didn’t make it back?”

Andrew coughs for another moment before he answers her, but - somehow, in my heart, I already know. I can’t say how, but I know. The fear had been in me since that ice-blue fire first appeared in Aiden’s eyes, but I was trying to press it down, to ignore it until I knew for sure.

I close my eyes, slump back against the nearest ambulance, and listen to Andrew confirm which firefighter is missing.

“Roger,” he says, and the world goes silent around me.