Page 64 of Roaring Spell

She has no idea she did that.

I open my journal. Write for two hours. Put it back in the bookcase.

Then I pull it back out and read what I wrote.

My bear, for the record, says finally.

I sleep better than I have in years.

THIRTEEN

SAKURA

The plan is simple: watch Valesh. Document her movements. Find proof.

Simple plans, in my experience, have a way of becoming complicated.

“You don’t have to do this.” Torin is pacing my partially rebuilt studio. “The Network can handle surveillance.”

“My sensitivity might detect siphon activity.” I’m sorting crystals—the few that survived the sabotage—trying to make order from chaos. “If she’s checking on devices, I’ll feel it before anyone else does.”

“That’s exactly what concerns me.”

“Your concern is noted and overruled.” I set down a rose quartz that hums with residual energy. “She destroyed my studio. She tried to drive me out of town. I want to be there when we catch her.”

“Revenge isn’t⁠—”

“Justice.” I meet his gaze. “I want justice. There’s a difference.”

He stops pacing. Studies me with those warm brown eyes that notice everything.

“You’re not going to let this go.”

“Absolutely not.”

A long pause. Then, almost a sigh: “Fine. But we do this my way. Careful. Controlled. No heroics.”

“Bears don’t do heroics?”

“Bears do heroics constantly. That’s the problem.” He moves toward the door. “Tonight. After sunset. Wear dark clothes and try not to create any weather.”

“I can’t control⁠—”

“Try.” His lips twitch. “The mist will cover most of it, but sudden lightning tends to attract attention.”

He’s gone before I can argue.

I stare at the closed door for a long moment. Then I look at the crystals scattered across my workspace.

Surveillance. With Torin. For hours. In the dark. Alone.

This is going to be fine.

The crystals rattle with barely suppressed static. Outside, the sky darkens with clouds that weren’t there five minutes ago.

A knock at the door makes me jump. But it’s not Torin returning—it’s Berry Thornwick, clutching a book to her chest like a shield.

“The shop insisted.” She thrusts the book at me. “Very insistent. Practically threw it at me when I tried to leave.”