I gazed up at the merciless sun blazing down on us.

  It must be well into the night back home, I thought—and chuckled. Home? I mean… yeah. True. The other world felt like home to me now.

  Another one or two hours, and it would be early morning there.

  I was tired. My thoughts felt sluggish. But I was happy with the outcome of my first small incursion back onto Earth. Coming back was an option now, and I suspected “my boys” would want to follow, if only to check on their families and tell them they were fine.

  Did I want to come back here too? I wondered.

  I gathered my shadows, materialized into my dragon form, camouflaged myself, and rose into the sky. Shadowwalking in broad daylight was a slow and arduous chore.

  My thoughts drifted further. What would they tell their parents? What could they tell them?

  We still needed an excuse—an explanation—for their disappearance. I wondered whether telling the truth could be an option.

  And there was another problem I still needed to solve: finding a way to take them with me.

  Lost in those thoughts, I flew back toward the Zone.

  There was one thing I wanted to check before returning: Matt’s house. And maybe the boys’ homes as well. They would ask me about them, and I didn’t want to disappoint them.

  My camouflage must have been good enough, because I drew no aggro from the bees as I crossed the barrier. Not that they could have harmed me—or even caught up with me once I was past—but it was still satisfying to fly unseen.

  First on my list was Mike’s house. From above, the noble district seemed almost untouched, but as I descended, the devastation became clearer. The cars were not parked in the middle of the streets: they lay wrecked and broken. Here and there, fires had consumed cars, garden sheds, and even a few houses. Some windows were shattered, gates and fences torn apart.

  To my surprise, Mike’s house was intact. More than that, it hadn’t been looted. Not a single window was broken. The front door was unlocked, the cars were gone, and it was obvious the place had been abandoned in a hurry, but most things were still there, untouched.

  There was even money left behind in a jar in the kitchen. On a chair, I found Sandra’s—Mike’s little sister’s—plush bear.

  I chuckled when I saw it forgotten there and picked it up. Sandra would certainly be happy to see it again.

  With a satisfied grin, I placed the little bear in my inventory, stepped onto the garden terrace in front of the kitchen, and took off.

  Next on my list was Matt’s house—but on the way, flying above the main avenue, I spotted the large marble-clad building of a bank. And suddenly, I remembered my orc kingdom’s financial struggles.

  What about robbing a bank?

  To my disappointment, I discovered I was not the first to have that idea. If there had been any valuables inside, they had been looted long ago. I’d hoped I might at least scavenge a few gold coins from the vault drawers, but there was no chance of that. Not a single golden penny left.

  The nearby jewelry shop looked even worse: a sea of shattered glass and overturned furniture. I did find a couple of valuable earrings the robbers must have dropped, but that felt more like undignified scavenging.

  I almost put them back.

  Almost.

  I was just about to leave when I tilted my head, reading the name of a nearby noble emporium: Bodega Vienneta.

  The most expensive fashion house on Earth. You needed a platinum credit card just to step inside. It brought together several renowned fashion artists—classics as well as avant-garde talents.

  I blinked.

  I could not let that pass.

  Entering it felt like stepping into an old temple. There was no light, and even though I could see perfectly well in the dark, I decided to turn the lights on.

  A blink of magic later, there was more light than daylight. I looked around.

  Some parts had been vandalized, but most of the exhibits were intact. And in that moment, I could hardly believe my luck. This was better than finding gold.

  A whole fashion house.

  For me.

  Long silk dresses, daring short dresses, ball gowns, prom dresses, marvelous high-heeled shoes.

  I started to salivate just looking at them. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. This was a sin, but a beautiful one.

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  True, some pieces were exaggerated nonsense. But even those carried a touch of genius, and many more were genuine works of fashion brilliance.

  To my delight, White Flower’s inventory spell seemed to have created a bottomless vault. It swallowed and swallowed, and still it felt almost empty.

  After a while, I stopped trying on the shoes. I just added and added and added, rushing through the shop in a happy, half-mad dash. I took entire outfits—including the mannequins. Reconstituting those later would be a chore.

  As I walked up the stairs to reach the second floor my face was caught in a net. A spider net. I trashed with the hand to remove it, but it was surprisingly resilient.

  Something was crawling in my hair!

  I yelped and swatted wildly then lit up the floor the same way I had the previous ones and ... a myriad of unblinking eyes were suddenly staring back at me.

  Hundreds

  No. Thousands upon thousands of spiders had suddenly become active. The entire level—walls, ceiling, everywhere—was covered in spider webs, crawling with spiders.

  Left. Right. Above me. Everywhere.

  Spiders crawling, spiders dropping, spiders already in the air, already jumping.

  A shiver passed my spine as I saw those hairy beasts, some as big as my hand, a black skittering wall converging toward me, like water down a drain.

  For a brief moment, I wanted to flee.

  But… since when did I allow a mass of critters to chase me away from a fashion trip?

  The reaction inside me was visceral enough that my mana veins briefly became visible, lighting my skin from within like rivers of pale fire. For a heartbeat, I was afraid I might overreact and destroy half the city.

  Thankfully, that didn’t happen.

  One moment the floor was alive with webs and crawling bodies. The next, a wash of light passed over it, and it was as clean as it had been on the day it opened.

  I grinned satisfied and continued my exploration floor after floor, and it was worth it: on the seventh floor, I quite literally struck gold: the jewelry section.

  The lack of light—and the creepy spiders—had probably limited the number of scavengers, and the upper floors had remained untouched.

  My eyes lit up at the sight of such beauties. I wanted to try everything on right there.

  Only the thought of transforming a wing of my palace into a new kind of open wardrobe—to display all of this and try it properly with the help of my maids—saved me. It gave me the willpower I needed. Otherwise, I would probably still be inside, endlessly trying different combinations.

  Even running like a madwoman, it took me more than two hours to gather my collection—and I still wasn’t sure I hadn’t missed something.

  I did put on a lovely chainmail made of pure gold, draping it over my neck and chest to replace my blouse. It was cool against my skin, heavy and cold and undeniably sexy. Vanity? I’m guilty as fuck.

  Happy and satisfied, I climbed onto the rooftop of the building to take off.

  I glanced down at the gold-shimmering chainmail. It seemed to soothe me. The wrongness in my chest had faded significantly. Hell, I’d almost forgotten about it entirely while wandering through the fashion house. It seemed there was no better cure for me than fashion.

  My eyes swept over the town, but there was still no trace of Lili.

  Where could the little pest have gone, and what could she be doing?

  Ignoring the scavengers moving through the streets, I took off, and headed straight for Matt’s house. It took less than a minute to reach it, and I landed on the pavement.

  As I glanced toward his house, a rush of memories flooded my mind. I instinctively turned the other way, almost expecting to see the neighbor taking out her trash, shaking her head at the sight of me.

  The last time I had been here was that day when Matt’s mother had found out I’d slept in his bed. The day she threw me out of the house.

  I almost expected to hear her yelling at Matt, "That tramp is back. Tell her not to come in!"

  But there was only silence.

  Their car was gone. Had they driven away with it? They couldn’t have taken much luggage in that small sports car.

  A gust of wind stirred the curtains of the wide-open windows.

  After a brief hesitation, I went inside.

  The front door was closed but not locked, and the moment I touched the handle it swung open. Somewhere deeper in the house, another door slammed shut, but it was only the wind.

  My heartbeat spiked, even though I had expected it.

  They probably hadn’t locked the place when they left.

  Inside, the floor was littered with scattered objects—clothes, books, dishes, shattered vases. The house hadn’t been spared. That was to be expected; many of the surrounding houses had been broken into as well.

  It looked as if someone had searched through the place and simply thrown everything aside.

  I let my domain press outward as I continued my inspection.

  But when I stepped into Matt’s room, I froze.

  A wave of panic clenched my heart as a familiar magical scent struck my senses.

  It carried one of White Flower’s old memories with it. The fear. The instant recognition.

  The scent was similar to White Flower’s magic, but there was another note layered into it, something cloying and wrong, like burnt sugar mixed in.

  White Flower’s old nemesis.

  “Araxa?” I mumbled.

  I blinked, trying to make sense of it. Could I be wrong? The magical residue was old—weeks old, perhaps—and very faint. And yet, it was unmistakably hers. Here.

  What had that old witch been doing in Matt’s room?

  How had Araxa been here at all?