Page 89 of Tidal Creatures

Chang’e hesitates. “Maybe it just hasn’t appeared yet.”

“No. It’s not anchored here right now.”

“So where is it anchored?”

“I don’t have magic-gate-detecting powers!”

“Can’t you make it a hunt? I thought you said you could hunt anything.”

Artemis shoots her a wounded look. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I can’t just find things. And hunting for a door isn’t the same as hunting prey, or hunting an enemy. Unless the door was my enemy somehow, but that’s just silly.”

“I can find it,” says Kelpie.

The rest of them stop and turn to look at her. Artemis speaks first.

“You can what?”

“That key you have feels fizzy, like the way some things feel when they get too close to me. I think because I was made to be attuned to unclaimed Lunar energy, I can feel things that are connected to the Moon but aren’t preoccupied with being people. I don’t know how it works. I don’t know how anything works, really. But I feel like if you want me to find the gate, I can find it.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

Kelpie shrugs. “You knew where it was. You were so sure of it. I didn’t think I could say anything that would help if you already knew where it was.”

“Can’t hurt,” says Roger. “Which way?”

Kelpie turns a slow circle, face screwing up with concentration. Then she stops and points away from campus, back the way they’d come. “There,” she says.

“You heard the woman,” says Roger. “This way.”

They start to walk again, initially backtracking, then quickly passing the house, heading down Telegraph Avenue until they reach Bancroft, then turning and walking onward to Shattuck Avenue. Kelpie doesn’t speak, all her attention focused on the journey, and the rest are quiet as well, letting her set the pace and lead the way. She continues until they’re approaching a neighborhood only Artemis seems to recognize. She hesitates.

“Kelpie?”

Kelpie keeps walking.

“Kelpie, are we going back to Isabella’s apartment?”

“Is that a problem?” asks Erin.

“Gates don’t normally anchor in private homes,” says Artemis. “It would make it too difficult for us to be sure of getting the access we need. Can’t exactly knock on someone’s door and ask to come inside to make the journey to the moon, now, can you?”

Kelpie turns in to the apartment complex, and the others follow, having no better options immediately at hand. On she goes, passing the broken-down door to Isabella’s apartment. It’s sealed with police tape, garishly yellow and glaring. Juan’s body is gone. Groups of neighbors litter the walkway, talking in quiet voices, clearly gossiping about the day’s events. The police have been and gone, taking their notes and, one presumes, taking the victims.

It’s hard not to wonder what conclusions they’ll be able to draw, or how hard they’ll even try. Crimes committed on the fringe of the alchemical world have a way of slipping through the cracks, investigations forgotten or dismissed, evidence misplaced. As long as Isabella doesn’t push too hard for answers—unlikely, since she already has more answers than she could ever ask for—the authorities will forget this happened within the week. The neighbors, even more quickly. There already aren’t as many of them out here as there should be, given the lurid nature of the situation.

It’s a blessing, in its own way. It’ll be easier for Isabella and Luis to start over without the fear of being charged with Catrina and Juan’s murders hanging over their heads. It’s also an abomination. Justice will never be served.

Kelpie seems to notice none of this. She’s almost in a trance now, walking without seeing, without varying her pace at all. She approaches a door that looks like all the others.

“The gate won’t be inside a private home,” Artemis says again, a little louder this time.

Kelpie opens the door. It isn’t locked. That’s odd. Unlocked doors aren’t safe. No matter how much you trust your neighbors, unlocked doors are a bad idea.

Inside, the room is square and empty, the walls painted white, the floor lacking any sort of carpet or padding. Kelpie walks straight to the door on the far wall, opening it in turn.

This door reveals a stairwell, descending down into the dark. Motion-sensitive lights come on as she steps onto the landing, illuminating the space in artificial brightness. Artemis surges forward, catching Kelpie by the elbow before she can step onto the stairs.

“This is the lab,” she hisses, in case Kelpie somehow doesn’t know, in case she’s led them here with no real idea where she was going.