Noah stared at the blank message box on his phone. The cursor blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. He had already typed the message. Deleted it. Typed it again. Deleted that too. I think I found him. Simple. Useful. Probably what Soteria wanted.

Noah still couldn't make himself send it. He leaned back against the edge of the piano and looked toward the empty doorway. Raine had been gone for maybe two minutes. Three, tops. The room still felt strange. Not supernatural exactly. Just— different.

Noah glanced toward the floor. The shadows beneath the piano were perfectly still now. Normal. Which somehow made what had happened worse. He'd seen them move. Not flicker. Not stretch because somebody passed a window. Move. Toward Raine. Around him. Like they recognized him.

Noah rubbed his thumb against the shell hanging at his throat. His mother's necklace. Warm from his skin. Familiar. Grounding.

"Okay," he muttered.

"Think."

Raine Graves. Seventeen. Senior. Musician. Sarcastic asshole. Apparently allergic to dressing for the weather. And maybe— possibly— probably— not mortal.

Noah looked down at the student packet again. RAINE ORPHEUS ELIAS GRAVES. He stared at the name.

"Orpheus Graves," he said quietly.

"That's ridiculous."

It was almost funny. Almost. The problem was the shadows. And the problem with the shadows was that Noah knew enough mythology to recognize when the universe was being obnoxiously literal.

He pulled his phone back out. Four unread messages had become seven.

'Any sign?'

'Status?'

'Santiago?'

'You were supposed to check in twenty minutes ago.'

'Respond.'

'Noah?'

'CALL NOW.'

He frowned. That last one was new. So was the one beneath it.

'DO NOT APPROACH THE TARGET ALONE.'

Noah stared. Target? That word had not been there ten seconds ago. His stomach tightened. He tapped the contact. The call connected before the first full ring.

"Santiago."

No greeting. No hello. No hey, how's mortal public school treating you? Just his name. Noah straightened.

"What happened?"

A pause. Then:

"Where are you?"

"School."

"Are you alone?"

Noah looked around the empty music room.

"Yes."

"Have you identified the demigod?"

His eyes drifted toward the doorway again.

"No."

That was technically true. Probably. Maybe. A very convenient definition of true.

"Have you seen anything unusual?"

Noah hesitated. Too long. The voice on the other end sharpened.

"Noah."

He sighed.

"Maybe."

Silence. He could practically hear the person on the other end swearing internally.

"What did you see?"

Noah looked down at the shadows again.

"They moved."

"What moved?"

"The shadows."

Another pause. Longer this time. Noah's grip tightened around the phone.

"Is that bad?"

The answer came immediately.

"Leave."

Noah frowned.

"What?"

"Leave the school. Now."

"I'm in the middle of—"

"Now, Santiago."

Noah pushed away from the piano.

"Okay, Jesus."

"Do not say that while we're discussing gods."

"Right. Sorry. Cultural confusion."

"This is not funny."

That got his attention. Noah stopped smiling. The person on the other end took a breath.

"Something happened at Soteria."

Noah's stomach dropped.

"What?"

"The bells rang."

He went still. Every joke disappeared.

"The bells?"

"All of them."

Noah stared at nothing. That wasn't possible. The bells beneath Soteria Hall were ancient. Older than most of the buildings. Most students went their entire lives without hearing even one. They were not school bells. They were warnings. Divine ones.

Noah had heard stories. Everybody had. But stories were different from—

"All of them?" he asked.

"Yes."

Noah's eyes slowly moved back toward the place Raine had been standing. The shadows. The cold. The way they had climbed his ankle.

"What else?"

Another pause.

"The Oracle spoke."

Noah forgot how to breathe for a second.

"What did they say?"

The voice on the phone lowered.

"Death has fathered mortal blood."

Noah stared at the student packet in his hand. GRAVES. His pulse kicked.

"No," he whispered.

"What?"

Noah didn't answer. His eyes dropped to the name again. Raine Orpheus Elias Graves. The shadows. The darkness. The name. Fuck.

"Noah."

He swallowed.

"I might have found something."

Silence. Then:

"Explain."

Noah sat down slowly.

"There's a student here. Seventeen. Senior. His name is Raine Graves."

Nothing.

"He's got black hair with white streaks, green eyes, dresses like he's attending a funeral recreationally—"

"Noah."

"Right. Sorry."

He rubbed a hand over his face.

"I saw shadows move around him."

"How?"

"They stretched toward him. Wrapped around his ankle. He looked like he was going to fall through the floor."

The silence on the other end became heavy. Noah continued.

"I opened the blinds. The sunlight hit him, and it stopped."

That part made something uncomfortable twist in his chest. Raine's face. The fear. The way he had insisted he was fine. Noah pushed it aside.

"Anything else?" the voice asked.

Noah looked down.

"He doesn't know."

"You're sure?"

"As sure as I can be."

"He could be pretending."

"No."

The answer came too quickly. Noah frowned at himself. The voice on the other end noticed.

"You sound certain."

"He was scared."

"That doesn't mean—"

"He was scared like somebody who thought he was losing his mind."

Noah's voice had gone sharper than he intended. He stopped. Took a breath.

"He doesn't know."

A beat.

"Fine."

Noah leaned forward, forearms against his knees.

"So what now?"

"You do nothing."

He laughed once.

"You sent me here to find someone."

"That was before the bells."

Noah's smile vanished.

"So?"

"So this is bigger than your assignment now."

Noah looked toward the doorway. His stomach tightened again.

"Yeah."

"If this student is connected to what happened at Soteria, you do not know what you're dealing with."

"He's still a kid."

"So are you."

"I'm eighteen."

"Congratulations."

"That's adulthood."

"Legally."

Noah rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean."

"What I know is that something powerful enough to wake every warning beneath Soteria Hall happened at almost the exact moment you witnessed an unidentified teenager manipulating shadows."

"He wasn't manipulating anything."

"You just said—"

"He was scared of them."

Noah didn't know why the distinction mattered so much. It did. The voice on the other end went quiet. Noah stared at the cheap guitar Raine had been holding. He could still hear the melody they'd made together. Light. Then darkness beneath it. Neither winning.

"He isn't dangerous," Noah said.

"You don't know that."

Noah's jaw tightened.

"He didn't even know what was happening."

"That doesn't make him harmless."

The words landed wrong. Noah didn't like them. Maybe because he could still hear Raine saying I'm fine while his hands shook. Maybe because Soteria was already discussing him like a threat before anyone knew what he was.

Maybe because Noah knew exactly what came next. What can he do? How powerful is he? Can we control him? Can we train him? Is he useful?

Demigods were always measured against whatever parts of their parents they inherited. Noah had spent years being compared to Apollo. Archery came naturally. Excellent. Music? Expected. Healing? Disappointing. Prophecy? Nothing. Light? Enough.

There was always another box. Another expectation. Another way to be somebody's son before you were allowed to be yourself. Noah hated it. He hadn't expected to hate it on Raine's behalf.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Observe."

Noah frowned.

"That's it?"

"For now."

"And if monsters show up?"

"Protect him."

There it was. Simple. Noah understood that. He could protect.

"What if whatever happened today happens again?"

"Keep him calm. Don't encourage anything you don't understand."

Noah almost laughed.

"You're making it sound like he's a bomb."

"That's precisely the language I'm trying not to use."

"Well, you're doing a terrible job."

"Santiago."

"Fine."

Noah stood. He slid the student packet into his bag.

"What about bringing him in?"

"Not yet."

That surprised him.

"What?"

"We need confirmation."

"The Oracle literally said—"

"The Oracle said Death fathered mortal blood. They did not give us a name."

Noah looked toward the packet in his bag.

"Come on."

"I agree the timing is concerning."

"Concerning?"

"Yes."

"His last name is Graves."

"That is not evidence of divine parentage."

"It should be."

"No."

"And his middle name is Orpheus."

"That is unfortunate."

Noah snorted.

"Thank you."

"Focus."

He did. Mostly.

"We don't know whether the events are connected," the voice continued. "We don't know whether the demigod we're searching for is the child mentioned by the Oracle. And we certainly don't know which god, if any, has claimed Raine Graves."

Noah's fingers tightened around his shell necklace.

"Right."

"So you continue the assignment."

Noah blinked.

"You just told me to leave."

"Today."

"And tomorrow?"

"Go back."

Noah glanced at the guitar. Tomorrow. He couldn't stop the small smile that appeared.

"Okay."

"Stay close to him."

That wouldn't be difficult.

"Yeah."

"And Noah?"

"What?"

"Don't get attached."

His smile disappeared. For a second, he wondered if Soteria had somehow developed mind-reading while he'd been gone. Then common sense returned. This was standard. They knew him. They knew his rules. They knew why he had them.

Noah glanced toward the empty stool where Raine had been sitting. The cheap guitar. The unfinished progression still lodged in his head.

"I'm not."

The lie came easily. Too easily.

"Good."

The call ended. Noah lowered the phone. The room was quiet. He stood there for several seconds. Then:

"Fuck."

He leaned against the piano. Stared at the ceiling. There was an unknown child of Death somewhere in the mortal world. Ancient alarms were ringing. Soteria was panicking. And Noah had spent lunch flirting with a guy who made shadows move. No. Not flirting. Being irritating. There was a difference. Probably. His phone buzzed again. One new message.

'KEEP HIM ALIVE.'

Noah stared at it. Then at the empty doorway. Something inside his chest tightened.

"Yeah," he said softly.

"That was already the plan."

⸻

Noah did not see Raine again that day. That was probably for the best. Probably. It gave him time to think. Which was exactly the problem.

By fourth period, he had decided the shadows were a coincidence. By fifth period, he had decided that was stupid. By sixth, he had convinced himself there were plenty of gods whose children might interact strangely with darkness. Hecate. Nyx, depending on which traditions Soteria's historians were currently arguing over. Maybe Hypnos. Maybe some obscure deity Noah had slept through learning about.

By seventh period, he remembered the Oracle had used the word Death. That ruined most of those theories. By the final bell, Noah had reached the perfectly reasonable conclusion that he knew absolutely nothing. He left school alone. Soteria had arranged a small apartment for him twenty minutes away under the convenient excuse that his fictional parents were "handling affairs out of state." A thrilling backstory. Noah had suggested divorce. They'd told him to stop helping.

He dropped his bag onto the kitchen counter when he got inside. The apartment was silent. He hated that. Soteria was rarely silent. Even late at night, there were people in the halls. Footsteps. Doors. Somebody arguing about homework. Someone practicing with a weapon somewhere they absolutely weren't supposed to. Music drifting underneath somebody's door. The apartment had none of that.

Noah opened the refrigerator. Nothing worth eating. He closed it. Opened it again. Still nothing.

"Great."

His phone vibrated. A message from Soteria.

'Any further manifestations?'

Noah stared. He typed:

'No.'

Then added:

'I didn't see him again.'

Three dots appeared.

'Tomorrow, stay near him.'

Noah typed:

'Already planned.'

He stared. Deleted it. Replaced it with:

'Understood.'

Better. Less suspicious. He tossed his phone onto the counter. Then froze. A melody had started playing in his head. Not a real song. Their song. Raine's darker progression underneath his. Noah sighed.

"Seriously?"

His guitar case rested against the living-room wall. He lasted approximately forty seconds before opening it.