The journey back to shore was peaceful. Jane stayed where she was, wrapped in Allen's arms, watching the lantern-lit boats drift past. No one seemed inclined to fill the silence with chatter, and she was grateful for that.

  When they reached the dock, the process of disembarking was considerably less graceful than the boarding had been. Emily nearly went into the water, saved only by Trevor's panicked grab at her arm. Brit stepped on Bella's foot, earning him another sharp elbow to the ribs. Eventually, though, they were all on standing in a loose cluster on the dock.

  "This is where we split up, I think," Bella said. She looked tired but happy. Her hair was escaping its careful arrangement in ways that somehow suited her better than perfection would have. "Brit's walking me home. Anyone else heading our direction?"

  Emily and Trevor were going the opposite way, toward the library district where Trevor apparently lived. Sadie had already spotted her merchant's son waiting at the end of the dock, looking appropriately apologetic about his earlier disappearance. The two of them set off with Bella and Brit.

  That left Jane and Allen standing with Frank and Deborah.

  "We'll walk with you two," Frank said. "Our directions match for a while."

  They set off together, moving through streets that had grown quiet now that the festival was winding down. A few tables still stood out, their owners packing up the last of their wares, but most had already been cleared away. The cobblestones were littered with the small debris of celebration—scraps of ribbon, a forgotten cup, the stick from someone's meat skewer.

  "Thank you for today," Jane said to Frank and Deborah. "And for… everything. For the boat, and the fish, and letting my aunt stay with you.”

  Frank's voice was warm. "Our pleasure. You should come out on the water more often. Both of you. Good for the soul."

  "Speaking of your aunt," Deborah said, in the first words Jane had heard from her all evening, "you should tell her she's been missed. Frank's been moping."

  "I have not been moping."

  "You've been moping." Deborah patted her husband's arm with the easy affection of a long marriage. "It's been days since she's been by. The house is too quiet."

  Jane felt something cold settle in her stomach. "Days?"

  "Since that first morning," Frank said. "When you two went to look at the waterfall. Before she went to fetch you, she said she would probably head downstream to check on things. We haven't seen her since. I figured she was just busy with important archmage business."

  Jane's mind raced, doing the math. That morning at the waterfall had been three days ago. No, almost four. Nearly four whole days since her aunt had walked downstream to investigate the contamination. Four days without any check-ins.

  She would have sent a message. She would have told someone if she was going to be gone this long.

  "Jane?" Allen's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "What's wrong?"

  She realized she had stopped walking. The others had also stopped and were looking at her with varying degrees of concern.

  "I need to go." The words came out steadier than she felt. "I'm sorry. I need to go right now."

  She was already moving before anyone could respond, her new shoes hitting the cobblestones at a pace that was almost a run. Behind her, she heard Allen calling her name, mingled with the confused voices of Frank and Deborah.

  Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

  Jane's feet carried her through streets now transformed into obstacles between her and answers. Gravel crunched under her shoes as she cut through a less-paved alley, her mind racing faster than her legs could follow.

  How had she let this happen? In the whirl of reopening the bakery, she hadn’t even thought to worry. She knew her aunt could get incredibly focused when she was on the job. Jane realized she had subconsciously expected Cecelia to return the night before, at the latest. She even remembered planning to find her aunt yesterday on her way back from her upstream explorations, but then the girls’ night and the festival had consumed her attention.

  And now it’s been four days. Four days without contact.

  "Jane! Wait!"

  Allen's voice came from behind her. She heard his footsteps quicken, and then his hand caught her elbow, not pulling her back but matching her pace.

  "Talk to me," he said, slightly breathless. "What's happening?"

  She didn't slow down, but she didn't shake him off either.

  "My aunt. She left four days ago. She was supposed to check the river downstream for more contamination. She said she might walk that way for two days, but even if she went that far, she should have been back by now." Jane's voice cracked slightly. "Or she would have sent word. She would have told someone. Something's wrong, Allen.”

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  Allen kept pace beside her, his longer legs eating up the distance easily. “But she's the Grand Archmage. Surely she can handle whatever's out there. I mean, if anyone can take care of themselves —”

  "She's still human." Jane cut him off, the words sharper than she intended. "We're all still human. Magic doesn't change that. We can be hurt. We can sprain ankles. We can break bones."

  Jane thought of the shadows beneath her aunt’s eyes when she'd arrived, and the way she'd practically inhaled food.

  "We can push ourselves too hard and collapse. You've seen it yourself."

  Allen was quiet for a moment. She knew he was thinking of that day she'd lain unconscious in her bed while her friends worried.

  "I have," he admitted. "I didn't realize it was a usual thing."

  Jane turned down another street, heading toward her house without really thinking about it. "Magic gives us tools. It doesn't make us invincible. And my aunt pushed herself to get here in two days when it should have taken her four. She was already exhausted when she arrived. If she encountered whatever's been poisoning the water, she could be in trouble.”

  They reached her door. Jane fumbled with the latch, her hands shaking slightly. She wasn't sure what she was planning to do. She would grab supplies, certainly, then light a lamp and head out into the darkness to find her aunt. It wasn’t much of a plan, but she couldn't just stand here doing nothing.

  Allen's hand covered hers on the latch.

  "You're planning to go after her."

  It wasn't a question.

  "Of course I am. She's my aunt. She's the only family I have left." Jane swallowed hard. "I have to find her."

  "Jane." His voice was gentle, but firm. "It's dark."

  "I know it's dark."

  "The paths downstream are dangerous enough in daylight. You told me yourself how hard it was to navigate upstream and how easy it would be to get lost there. And that was during the day, when you could see where you were going. Downstream is just as bad.”

  "Then come with me." The words came out before she could think them through. "You know these mountains better than I do. You could help me navigate."

  Allen shook his head slowly. "That's not good enough."

  "What do you mean, not good enough? I can't just…"

  "Listen to me." He took both her hands in his. The steadiness of his grip cut through some of the panic clouding her thoughts. "If there's something out there dangerous enough to delay your aunt, then you're the only person in this town who has any chance of dealing with it. The only one."

  Jane opened her mouth to argue, but he pressed on.

  "Even if I went with you, it’s too risky. What happens if you break your legs on some rock you couldn't see? What if you go stumbling through the dark and fall off a cliff? Your aunt would still be in trouble. But there wouldn't be anyone left who could do anything about any of it."

  The logic was sound. She hated that it was.

  "I can't just do nothing," she whispered.

  "You won't be doing nothing. You'll be doing the smart thing." Allen squeezed her hands. "Go to bed, and sleep as much as you can. You're going to need your strength tomorrow. I'll have people ready to help. People who know the mountain paths and can navigate them. We'll form a search party and cover more ground than you could alone. It won’t be wasted time, Jane. I promise."

  Jane felt her eyes prickling again, those these were different from the happy tears during the fireworks. "At dawn?"

  Allen's jaw set. "Before that."

  She stared at him in the dim light filtering from a neighbor's window. This was the boy who got nervous asking her to festivals, who turned red when she complimented his work, and who had fled in terror after accidentally seeing her in her robe and underclothes. Right now, there was no uncertainty in him at all.

  "You promise?"

  "I promise." He lifted one of her hands and pressed his lips to her knuckles, a gesture so unexpectedly tender that it almost forced her into sobs. "Trust me, Jane. Let me help you."

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  "Good." He released her hands reluctantly. "Now go inside. Try to rest. I know it’s going to be hard, but try."

  Jane turned the latch and pushed open her door. The familiar smell of her kitchen greeted her. It felt wrong, somehow, that everything could look so normal when her world had just tilted sideways.

  "Allen?"

  He had already started to turn away, but he stopped.

  "Thank you." The words felt inadequate. "For everything today. And for being sensible when I couldn't be."

  He gave her a small smile. "That's what I'm here for. Someone has to keep you from charging into the wilderness in a festival dress and fancy shoes."

  Despite everything, she almost laughed. "They are very nice shoes."

  "They are. Now go inside."

  She obeyed. The door closed behind her. She stood alone in her darkened kitchen, listening to Allen's footsteps fade down the street. He was moving quickly, she realized, already working on whatever plan he was putting together.

  Jane made her way upstairs in a daze. She didn't bother lighting a lamp. The moonlight coming through her window was enough to navigate by, and somehow, the darkness felt appropriate. She sat on the edge of her bed, still wearing her beautiful blue dress, and tried to make herself believe that sleep was a possible thing just then.

  Her aunt was out there somewhere. Hurt, maybe. Lost. Worse.

  She thought about what Allen had said. Charging blindly into the wilderness at night would help no one. If she injured herself or got lost, she would only make everything worse. The smart thing to do was wait. Prepare. Move when she could actually be effective.

  But knowing a plan was smart and feeling like it was right were two very different things.

  Jane lay back on her bed, still fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling. The flower pin Allen had made her was still in her hair. She could feel its light weight against her scalp.

  Tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow, we'll find her. She'll be fine. She's the Grand Archmage. She's survived worse than some polluted river.

  Jane lay there for a long time, watching the shadows shift across the ceiling as the moon moved behind her curtains. Rest felt impossible. But eventually, her body made the decision for her, dragging her into a fitful, nervous kind of sleep.

  When she woke, it was still dark, but there was a gray quality to the darkness that suggested dawn was not far off. And somewhere below, she could hear voices.

  Jane was on her feet before she was fully conscious, dressing in her most functional clothing and scrambling for the stairs. She burst into her kitchen to find Allen standing by the door, and he was not alone. Brit was there, looking like he hadn't slept at all. Frank stood beside him with a coil of rope over his shoulder and a serious expression. Behind them, she could see more figures gathering in the street.

  Allen turned at the sound of her footsteps. His eyes swept over her, and something soft crossed his face before determination took over.

  "I told you," he said. "Before dawn."

  .

  !