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Zhenjun raised a brow. “You would share the burden of the Bastion?”
“We would,” Wade said, appearing in the doorway. Bobby and Remi weren’t far behind, and oddly, Ezra too.
“Whatever magic wove around the house has been shattered,” Remi added. “Jude must have unwoven it all with whatever he did. A lot of energy remains, but nothing structured enough to be useful. I’ve never seen a merge so solid before. And hidden behind magic? Impossibly complex.” He glanced at the scar. “But there’s no sign of the merge spreading.”
“Don’t open the basement door,” Bobby added. “It leads to some underworld…”
“Yeah, Bobby,” Ezra complained. “Good thing I grabbed you before you fell in.”
Bobby flushed and looked at the screen of his scanner. “I caught a heat signature…”
“The fires of hell, maybe?” Ezra asked.
“I’m not a believer in hell.”
“And yet your belief doesn’t stop the dimension from existing.”
I sighed and massaged the bridge of my nose. “This fun house is scattered with motes. Part Jude. And part—” I glanced at Zhenjun, trying to clarify, “—other dead?”
He nodded and shrugged. “Weavers often attract the dead. It’s not unusual. Though this volume…”
“So they didn’t die here?” Wade asked.
“That would be a question for the Reapers outside,” Zhenjun stated flatly.
“Some of the ghosts are too broken to go with them,” Wade pointed out, his gaze landing on me with worry. Did he fear Jude was as lost as I did? “They flicker and vanish before a Reaper can touch them. That’s not normal, right?”
The unspoken question lingered—was that Jude’s fate too?
“Jude’s here.” I waved my hand at the motes swarming me, but I could sense him stretched across the house. Memories? Were there more scars? “Are there more tears?” I asked Zhenjun.
He shook his head. “I’m uncertain where the merge came from. Trickled through this old repair? Or perhaps purposely created by magic I have yet to discover?”
“How do we put Jude back together?” I wondered aloud. Was it possible? Or would we have to call Nat up to gather what remained and tie him to a grimoire?
Zhenjun sighed. “He either has enough of himself to reweave into the tapestry of existence, or he doesn’t. Perhaps gather what you can find, and ask.”
“We can’t keep the SED out for much longer,” Remi said. “The whole house is lousy with magic residue and…” He pointed at the dots.
“What?” Bobby asked, tilting his head.
“Little dots,” Wade added.
“Motes,” I corrected them all, using Jude’s name for them. “They are pieces of Jude. I can tell which ones are Jude and touch them,” I pointed out. “But they can’t.” I looked at Remi. “Right?”
He nodded, holding out a hand near a mote to demonstrate his touch going right through it.
“You are the Bastion,” Zhenjun said with a shrug. “You may choose your soldiers however you wish.”
Me? Was this part of the Bastion power? But I recalled that when I’d changed into the shadow beast, they had all shifted too. Even Ivan who wasn’t anywhere near us, all because of Jude’s shield. I stared at the group and focused on Victor. The blood bond was already there, a quiet hum beneath my skin, familiar and steady. I followed it, letting my awareness slide along the thread that connected us.
Angel? He asked, mind carefully questioning.
I gave him a nudge, a request, as I wasn’t about to force him or any of them into a change they didn’t want. That something happened to them when I shifted into the Bastion the first time made me worry I’d stolen their agency.
Can I show you? I asked because I wasn’t certain how else to share.
His consent was instant, and my sight bled into his, threads swirling into a bright array of colors that defined the knots, frayed edges, and millions of little motes floating around us.
