Cerys’ bike drove past her, directly over the spot on the road where she had only just buried the three Mythics, and parked itself by the kerbside outside River’s house. She stared at the burial spot for a moment and then shook out any lingering feelings of guilt and fear, turning to follow after the bike.

“Atta girl,” she said as she reached the cruiser, and with her boot, she kicked the stand out. With her palm, she pressed it against the fuel tank and ended the spell that had charmed the bike to life, the motor shutting off. River remained stiffly glued to the motorcycle as if he were a part of it, his body pressed down against the bike, his fists tight around the handle bars. “And atta boy,” she added, “you did good.”

Cerys rubbed gentle circles into his back and he twitched back to life, slowly moving his head towards her. The helmet muffled his meek voice, but Cerys heard him loud enough as he asked, “is it over?”

“Yeah, it’s over. Come on.” She pulled the helmet off, vanishing it into thin air, and brushed his sweaty, blond bangs out of his face. His eyes were clenched shut, his brow tightly furrowed and jaw clenched hard enough to damage his molars, but once Cerys cupped his cheek and brushed her thumb against his clammy face, he relaxed.

Green hazel eyes slowly opened, meeting Cerys’ tender gaze, and he let out a long breath as if he were holding it all this time. Cautiously, he let go off the handles and quickly braced himself on the fuel tank, his pale hands and arms trembling. With Cerys help, he got off the bike and then fell to his hands and knees on a grassy strip of lawn separated from his home by the sidewalk, where he then emptied his stomach. Cerys grimaced but squatted beside him and rubbed his back comfortingly. She was partly to blame for his puke-induced night.

“Don’t ever,” he spat, “do that to me again.”

“I can’t make promises.”

River snapped his face to her, fear in his large widened eyes, and she laughed much to his disdain. He shoved her over and stood away from her but she still chuckled, until she realised how dangerously close she was to his pool of vomit.

“I’m sorry,” she offered despite her smile that said otherwise and sat up, hands out for her brother’s help. He refused, arms crossed with his back to her. “I don’t love what I had to put you through tonight, but let’s get inside first and then we can have a proper chat. We don’t know if more will come and it's not safe out here.”

“They’re still chasing after us?” River spun to face her and then sighed at her outstretched hands.

“I don’t know,” Cerys admitted to no comfort of her own, and stood as River pulled her up. She went to take her hands back but he didn’t let go, tugging them closer to look at as he inspected the fractures that scarred her skin, black moving fog in between the split flesh. She snatched her hands before any questions arose and pocketed them, swallowing her shame and moving on. She wasn’t ready to explain what caused a Mythic’s deformities or why. Truthfully, she might never be ready.

“Do you know anything?” River jabbed at her and scratched his jaw and neck, leaving red streaks behind. “Do you even know why they’re after you?”

“After us,” she corrected. River gapped at her before he shook his head with a bitter scowl, scratching harder at his shoulder and chest. Pink hives were forming across his pallid skin, his cheeks flushed and nose red. “Look, what I do know is our little friends are disciples of the Everlasting Servants, a covenant of dark magic and forbidden practices.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” River rolled his eyes and scratched his palms. “Their boss, Morana, sent them, right? But why? What do they want with you? With us?”

“How did you know—” Cerys sighed, scraping her question, and covered her face with her hands. “Let’s get inside first, alright? We need to figure out how they found you, what with the ward I set up.”

“Ward?” River scrunched his face up and then his eyes flicked to the house behind his sister, his mouth parting and eyeballs practically bulging. “You brought us here?!”

“Yes, and we need to get inside!” Cerys grabbed his arm and began to drag him up the driveway, only for him to snap his arm back and step further away from safety. “River, come on! No one can hurt you within the wards, so let’s get inside before another Servant with a hard-on for Morana tries to kill us!”

River shook his head rapidly, seemingly more freaked out by his home than the coven of violent Mythics.

“What is it?” Cerys bitterly asked, impatient but knowing he wouldn’t budge unless she solved whatever issue he had. “You have lived within these wards for the past five years, they have barely affected you all this time. It won’t hurt, okay? I made sure—”

“We have to go someplace else, Cerys.” River turned and walked back to the bike, wringing the nerves out from his hands. “Not here, alright? What about your place?”

“Did your grandparents sell or something?” She peered at the windows of the house, contemplating breaking in despite any new homeowners. The wards would let her, of course, but then they had the risk of running into whoever lived in the house now.

“No —yes! Yes, they sold it, so we can’t go in.”

Bullshit. Cerys rolled her head towards River and sucked the air through her teeth. River had never been much of a good liar, not to her at least, and it served him right when he could tell whenever she lied.

“We can’t waste time, River. We’re breaking in.”

“No!” River roared, anger loud and clear in their tone. He realised quickly how loud he had yelled and glanced around to ensure no one was disturbed in the early morning. “Please, Cerys…” He barely whispered and stepped towards her timidly, much like he used to when they were young children and he needed her comfort. Her resolve weakened at it and her magic throbbed beneath her skin, ready to go against the world if it would make River feel safe.

“Alright,” she gave in and crossed her arms, displeased with the outcome but accepting it no less. River’s desperate plea left her with no choice, and though she wanted to know the reason for his reluctance, it would have to wait. For now, they’ve spent far longer outside the safety of her wards than comfortable. “It’s not ideal but… What about your mum’s?”

A stone wall fenced around the property of a three story tall Victorian building, an old manor of a sort refurbished into an assisted care home called The Blessing House. Balconies framed with balustrades adorned the manor's dark oak exterior, and the arched windows were lined with an array of flowered planters beneath them. Neatly framing the building in lush greens were trimmed bushes, sprouts of flowers in the garden bed beneath them, while the land surrounding the care home remained barren all except for its vibrant, manicured lawn. The property promised serenity in its tidied and luxurious appearance, though Cerys would bet a good chunk of the residents' bills paid the upkeep of the rich aesthetic their housing offered.

She wasted no time in getting her brother and herself over the wall behind the manor, taking hold of River’s arm and willing her magic to boost them up as they leaped over and softly landed on the other side. River fell to his knees with the shock, groaning his complaint despite the lack of pain, and snatched his arm away from her. Rubbing the back of his neck, he stood and tossed Cerys the nastiest scowl he could muster.

She didn’t care. Instead, she hurried her pace and strolled across the large lawn, feeling exposed without the cover of trees, hedges or topiaries to hide behind, and glanced once over her shoulder to ensure River followed like a good little boy. He did, though not without an attitude, muttering nonsensical complaints to himself that Cerys could have easily listened to if she tried, but shrugged off instead. His allergy made him moody, she knew that, and with the strain between them from their years apart, that mood only grew worse.

Instead of minding her brother’s bitter remarks, she focused on the air around them, far too open and clear than she would have liked. Anxiety of another attack gnawed at her, and the absence of any more Servants only added to her uneasiness. If they knew where River lived, they should have known about his mother’s condition and place she was located.

Or maybe Morana doubted Cerys’ strength to visit the woman who raised her… And who in turn she had abandoned.

“Stop freaking out!” River hissed, roughly clawing at his red, flushed face. “I can tell when we are in danger, remember? We are safe, nothing here is screaming murderous intent.”

Cerys stopped still and snapped to face River, walking up to him to prod his chest. “The easiest loophole to that is someone deciding not to hurt you!”

“That’s a good thing, you idiot,” he scoffed, “They won’t attack us before I know it, so until then, stop flaring your magic at the slightest thing. Hell, even your own shadow is scaring you, and everytime you panic, I’m getting the whiplash—see!”

River shoved his sleeve up and revealed dark blotches of hives littered across his arms, disappearing up where the jean jacket couldn’t be pushed back further. Cerys clenched her jaw and tightened her fists, her mouth sour. She shook her head and huffed out a deep breath, resting her gaze on him with a firm warning. “It’s this,” she calmly said, “or us not being ready for an attack.”

River scoffed, fixing his sleeve back down and adjusting his jacket, as if he wanted to hide himself from his own sister. “You seriously can’t give me a smidgen of compassion?” He spoke with more disbelief than anger, setting his sights on the building behind Cerys, no longer caring to look at her. It only agitated her more.

“When we’re not running from human sacrificers and practitioners of forbidden magic, I’ll give you as much compassion as you want.”

“Human what?”

Cerys cursed herself for letting that slip but quickly decided it didn’t matter. They had more pressing matters. “Forget it, let's just go and get inside the wards.”

“You and your fucking wards.” River shoved past her, purposefully nudging into her arm as he took off ahead. 

He rounded the corner behind the back veranda of the manor, sticking carefully close to the hedges to not be spotted by anyone inside. Cerys stayed short behind him, giving him space but eyeing him intently as he led her down the side of the house to where a few palladian windows were spaced out. He paused in the middle of the row and pushed himself onto the tip of his toes to peer inside the window, with not so much luck.

“I think it’s this one,” he told her, calmer than before but still reluctant to meet her eyes. She joined his side but immediately he shifted away to instead lean against the wall beside the window, arms crossed and head turned away. She stared at him for a moment but then brushed her bitterness aside, her brother’s mood something she would deal with once they were safer and he wasn’t so agitated by his allergy.

With her scarred hand, she reached out and pressed her palm against the cold glass of the window. The magic of her wards pulsed underneath her touch, registering the sharpness of the protective barrier woven into the very threshold of the room. Relief warmed her, glad her wards were secure and untouched, and in her uncontainable gratitude, she smiled at River.

“Good intuition,” she winked, “this is it.”

She stepped back and motioned her River to join her, who fortunately did without protest. She flicked her wrist upwards and with little effort, a golden hole split open in the window and down to the ground, forming large enough for Cerys and River to step through.

“Ladies first,” Cerys offered, her arm extended for River to go in. He rolled his eyes and took a single step, his body turning stiff as he braced himself. With a tense grimace, he ducked his head and ran through the magic entrance into his mother’s room, a yelp escaping him. Cerys took one last glance behind them, observing the area for any lurkers, and then followed after her brother, the hole closing back up behind her.