"Girlfriend? Lis isn't my... We broke up, so I don't..." Fuck. Of course he knows. How could he not know? And then his words truly register.

"Rax? You?" I don't keep the incredulity from my voice.

"You say it like it's ludicrous," Rory replies, jaw tightening. "But his love for me saved him once."

"Bullshit." I push him. Just a light shove, really, but he's not expecting it and I'm made of sturdier stuff. I'm worried he's going to crash through the wall before he catches himself. Rory floats in mid-air for a moment before returning to the ground.

"Please don't do that again."

I don't know why I'm provoking him. Maybe I remember how smug he was the few times we fought a decade ago. Or, hell... maybe it's just that I'm hurt that Rax kept this from me. All of it.

I wish Lis was here. She'd know.

But no matter what, I have to believe him.

"So a decade ago..." I say, remembering how Rax never told me the particulars of how or why he broke free from Desdemona's control.

"It was me that woke him up."

"I always thought he didn't know..."

"He didn't. He had suspicions. Ones he shared with me when you started sleeping with my wife."

"I'm sorry about—"

"That's not what's important here. We've both done wrong by each other in many ways. I was not a perfect husband, long before she tracked you down again. What I don't understand is why Tiana sent me to you. As far as I know, you're just... gratification."

My hand flexes. "It wasn't just that. I love her." It'd be so easy to hit this guy. I can't because he's said something important. Proof. I take a deep breath in and focus. "She sent you here? She's alive still?"

"Yes."

Unamused, I jab my stinger at the air next to his head. "Say more. Right now."

"We were trying to clear Draxus' name, and so we went to visit the one person who could tell us how to weaponize Decay," he explains, nonplussed.

"You visited Elaine?"

"Yes. And then Desdemona attacked us. I don't know how she got—"

"Lindsey."

"Lindsey?" Rory probes, incredulous.

"She's wanted to take me down ever since..." The tip of my stinger retracts as the rest of the tail's tip splays open. I mime it eating something.

Rory studies my mimicry intently, something between a mix of distaste and fascination plain on his face. "That's a bold allegation."

Maybe just one punch. Rax'll understand. I'll spring for the dental work and physical therapy, too. "How you can think you're good enough to be with Rax when you can't even consider that maybe a cop might be bad is beyond me. She wanted to put a bullet in both his and my head."

Rory's face darkens, lips thinning into a razor-sharp line. "The same way I'm ignoring that the only way Tiana could've been taken over by Desdemona is if she'd ingested a large quantity of Decay — a profoundly illegal act done to her by the person who claims to love her."

I should move past it. At worst, he's being a goading asshole. Not even I believe it, though. He's doing exactly what I'm doing: protecting someone he cares about. And it sucks, too, because he's not wrong.

It's why I've been provoking him. If he takes a swing, I'll feel like less of a scumbag.

But Tiana's under Desdemona's sway, and Rax is in jail — all because of me. Which means I swallow down my self-destructive urges. "It wasn't a good decision," I admit.

"No... but it might help us find her."

"How?"

"We need to take a trip." Rory pulls out a thin metal chime and flicks it.

As we're flooring it through red lights in his car a few minutes later, Rory explains — calmly — that the chime — a magical device — manifested this vehicle. "It uses a mystical probability field to ensure the relative safety of its passengers," he concludes as I do my level best to not soil myself.

I am not comforted by the term "relative" safety, but it gets us across town and to his mansion far faster than calling a cab — including the few minutes it takes for my stomach to settle in the aftermath of the ride.

Once I peel myself off the floor, I remember where I am.

Not far from where I stand, Tiana knelt in front of me once. Eager. Willing to do whatever was necessary for me to be with her one more time, even when it felt like we were at the end of it all. She took the first steps because I was too scared. I have to be just as brave now.

Rory leads me to a door with a palmprint scanner. It chimes with an affirmative when he presses his hand against it, and the deadlock bolts retract with a loud "thunk". Inside is a meticulously kept vault, with curios of all kinds crowding the walls. Perfectly centered in the space is a small desk.

Rory moves over to the desk, opens one of the drawers, and begins to rummage through it. "Don't even look at the walls," he suggests without looking up. It's an offer that seems as much about my preservation as it is one rooted in distrust.

"Touch the wrong thing and apocalypse. Got it," I mutter.

"Here." Rory concludes his search by producing a shard of obsidian glass. "Why do you think Tiana chose you after all these years?"

I shrug. "She didn't. She got lucky, and it was chaos."

Rory shakes his head. "No, I'm not so sure." He holds the shard up. "Do you know what this does?"

"How could I possibly know, Rory?"

One edge of his mouth hooks downward. "Apologies. I don't like to condescend to people." He lets out a quick sigh, and with it his demeanor shifts back to neutral. "It's a piece of scryer's glass. When two objects interact, their emotional resonances entangle."

"Entangle how?"

"Decay has another name. Or, more aptly: the Skvan'volu do not refer to it simply as 'Decay'. The Guild truncated it, and the Guild has made certain to suppress alternate translations."

"What does it actually mean?"

"It's not exact, but poetic: 'Decay of lies and deceit'."

"Hymbari'daal..." The word leaves my lips, spoken like I'd never left another world behind. And with it, a flood of painful, crushing emotions as memories I'd buried rip free. Small bits of a life when I was just a child, staring up at other skies.

"Amazing what the mind forgets to survive."

Desdemona uttered those words to me just after she'd "encouraged" me to forget my past. I was happy there, on that world. I can't even remember the name in the language we spoke.

"I am sorry," Rory says, stepping closer. "I can see you're distressed, but if there's to be any chance, I must..."

He holds the scryer's glass up and does... something to it because it begins to glow. The light spills from within it like radiant fog, billowing out toward me. Then it coalesces, bit by bit, into a bright, incorporeal orange line that extends through me.

"There." Rory points to line's end.

It's tugging back and forth while the rest of the line remains static. I shrug. "What does that mean?"

For the first time, I see Rory's face brighten. "It means that there's still hope. She's still fighting."