ElaraBy the time Gran and I reached the house, the sky had shifted into that deep violet that makes Valecis Isle look taller than it is. The towers always seem closer to the stars at that hour.I had barely spoken on the ride back from Arclight. Gran didn’t press, because she never does. She watches instead, and she waits. Usually I fill silence. Today I let it sit.We turned into our driveway, and I saw the vehicle before we stopped.A high-grade Mage Vehicle hovered along the curb, suspended above the street by a levitation array that hummed with restrained power. It was the kind of expensive that did not need a crest to announce itself. Around it stood men and women in fitted black suits, positioned in a loose perimeter. Their posture wasn’t decorative. It was operational.“Gran,” I said quietly, “are we expecting someone?”“No.”She said it evenly, but her eyes had already begun measuring distances.We stepped out of the transport. I shifted the grocery bags against my hip and watched the nearest guard track our movement without turning his head.“Gran,” I said, lowering my voice, “do you think they’re dangerous?”She studied them for another second.“Absolutely,” she said, calm enough to be convincing. “But not to us. I know who they are, so don’t you worry.”She moved forward without hesitation.I caught her wrist. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”Gran patted my hand. “Yes, dear. You let Gran handle it.”Then she raised her voice.“You. The one with the green hair—and you, the one with the neck tattoo.”Two of the guards exchanged startled looks, then straightened and approached. The one with the green hair wore a dark covering that shielded his eyes, but the rest of his expression remained attentive.“Yes, Miss Arcanus.”“If your employer has stationed you in front of my house,” Gran said, handing him two bags, “you may (...)