Grey clouds hung in the sky, brooding over downtown Hevana. The sun was only beginning to set, but the dimness was akin to that of dusk. The odd sunray beamed down onto the Stupa Tower, which loomed close at hand, rising well above the slanted roofs and gritty high-rises. The spire caught the light and flashed amid the muted greys and blacks—as if it were a heavenly eye that presided over the grand ceremony that unfolded in the city that day.

Binara lowered her gaze to the street, where the Perahera took place. She was seated on one of many balconies set aside for the onlookers on either side of the road. Hundreds of people also lined the sidewalks and peered down from buildings.

The street was a spectacle of flame, dance and noise. Rings of fire swirled amid cracking whips. Ceremonial outfits clinked and glinted. Flames spewed from fire-breathers. The activity rose and ebbed to the rhythm of many drums.

"It's glorious..." Piumi said next to her, enraptured by the sight.

"Yeah, it's more a festival now than a purification ceremony." Binara crossed her arms and side-eyed a cameraman who craned over the balustrade. "All fun and games after we've done all the work."

Piumi grinned and gave her a nudge. "Stop pouting. The city's safe. That's what matters."

"I'm not pouting."

"By the way, Binnie..."

"What?"

"You're...kinda different." She peered closer.

"What do you mean?"

"This 'we' for one thing." Her voice was hushed, almost drowned out by the noise. "You didn't even want to tell me your name when we first met, remember?"

Binara made a dismissive noise.

Piumi tapped her chin. "What exactly happened in Holmanloke?"

"I told you what happened," she mumbled. "I went to Mount Meru, talked to the Asuras and got the sword."

"So cool..." Piumi's eyes shone. "I still can't believe you did all of that. Like, wow, I can't even picture it. Didn't you say there was a lake? Plus—"

Tuning out the chatter, Binara swept her gaze over the crowds overflowing from the closely-packed buildings. She could spot multiple Yakadura agents in plain clothes. Bandages and plasters bore testament to the battle up in the hills, which seemed mind-blowingly unreal in hindsight. She was suddenly conscious of her own wounds—especially the injury on her side, which prickled at the slightest motion. What was even more incredible was the fact that she was one of the few people in Hevana who knew what had really transpired. To the rest, it was the thunderstorm that had the wildfires going up in Bahira Mountain. There was always one explanation or another—when the truth was glaring them in the face. Idiots.

For the hundredth time, her brain dwelled on the gut-wrenching memories—from the carnage to the terrifying fight with Mahasona. Abruptly, the fire and noise of the parade merged with that of battle. Perspiration broke out on her brow, and her breaths turned ragged. Even though there was no demonic aura now, pressure constricted her. Sounds dulled and receded at the same time her vision darkened around the edges.

"Binnie?" Piumi's voice cut through the fog and pulled her from the abyss. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine, I'm fine..." Binara brushed a clammy palm over her forehead, pushing aside a wayward lock of hair.

Piumi nodded, her face solemn. "Sad that you lost the hairpin."

"I didn't lose it." She composed her face into her usual mask. "It's where I need it the most..."

The other girl frowned, waiting for an explanation that didn't come.

The procession below commenced in all its cheeriness. Hulking forms emerged from the smoke—animatronic elephants so big they reached the first-floor hotel balcony where Binara sat. These were beasts of black metal and recycled parts—works of art fueled by kaluon. Decked out in robes of maroon and navy blue, they were the highlight of the festival. Sequins, embroidery and myriad lights decorated their garments, which even covered the trunk and ears.

The biggest elephant walked into view—a tusker carrying a golden casket that housed a priceless relic. It raised its trunk and trumpeted louder than the cracking whips and conch shell horns. Binara focused her attention on it, grateful for the distraction.

"Nice of your mom to get this spot," Piumi said, leaning to get a better look.

"Some of my distant family is here to see the Perahera. Plus Mom's friends." Binara glowered. "Easier to have me here than explaining my absence."

"Is she going to ground you for life or what?"

"She can't—I'd be eighteen soon anyways. I told her I'd move to the Yakadura dorms if she tries that."

"Oh." Piumi let out a giggle. "Your mom still wants you to go to uni?"

Binara nodded. Her relationship with her mother had never been so strained, but she banished the thought from her head. It was good to be alive. They had averted a catastrophe. Piumi was alright and so was Diyan. That was enough for now. Her heart swelled, and despite the darkening sky, everything appeared brighter.

Then a smirk materialized on her lips. The knowledge she had uncovered and the great Battle of Bahira would change ghosthunting forever. The Yakadura were still reeling with everything she had told them. It would take months for the ripples to die down. Her deeds had indeed rocked the shadowy agency—just not the way she had expected. Contrary to her wildest imagination, she had found her place in their ranks. If the talk she last had with Molamure meant anything, she would have her own research division for demonology and noetic science.

When the Perahera drew to a close, night had descended.

Binara followed the crowd into the hotel, where lanternlight gleamed off vintage wooden furniture. With Piumi at her heels, she climbed down the staircase in time to see her mother in the hotel lobby, deep in conversation with one of her great-aunts from out of town.

Inoka, clad in a flowing dress, gave no indication that she noticed Binara, so she slunk to the exit as soundlessly as possible.

"You're going home?" Piumi asked, falling into step.

"Yep." Binara slipped out past the doorman. "I'll see you on Monday."

"When are you going to introduce me to—you know. Him."

"Soon."

Piumi grumbled under her breath.

Outside the Queen's Folly Hotel, Binara weaved through the crowd, making for the nearest bus stop. She had an appointment with a certain demon prince that evening—at least according to the note tied around the neck of his furry emissary.

Cool night air nipped at her face, and the white noise of kaluon buzzed in her brain. Her eyes snagged on the grand building at the end of the road—the old royal palace that was now part of the main temple complex of Hevana. The lake was just visible, hemmed with trees and glimmering under many lanterns—a panorama set against the backdrop of lights that twinkled up in the cloudy hills.

The bus ride was uneventful. She arrived in the outlying town that was her destination. From there, she took a tuk to the Mayadunne estate—past paddy fields, wilderness and small houses. Her thoughts strayed to the time she was found unconscious in one of these very fields.

Soon, the tuk juddered along the driveway that led to the walauwa. Distant thunder vied with the rumble of the engine. As they turned a bend, the house came within view—a foreboding façade cloaked in darkness. The skylight glowed like a luminous orb, bringing out the moonstone pattern while color spilled from the stained glass panels.

Binara paid the fare and alighted. Then she crossed the verandah to the front door. Despite her attempt at stealth, the heavy door unlocked and grated open. She winced.

Nothing moved. She closed the door and made it as far as the staircase.

"You're home early?" Nayana's voice emanated from a hallway, colder than ever after the events of late.

"Yeah." Binara started fast-walking up the stairs. "Didn't want to wait for Mom."

"Stop scurrying away when I'm talking to you, child."

She paused and turned, bristling. "What do you want, Miss Nayana? Are you going to convince me—or rather, yourself—that what happened in Bahira Mountain is all natural? I told you the truth. I was fighting this—"

"When will the tall tales and make believe stop, Binara? In any case, that's not what—"

"Oh, yeah?" Her voice rose an octave. "What about the communication tower? Can't be an earthquake—that must be one weird, super localized earthquake. What about the clouds? You must've seen—"

"Mind your tone. I heard that those clouds were surprisingly similar to what is called mammatus clouds. They could also have been undulatus asperatus. Perhaps a whole new type of cloud formation that is a mix of both. The tower collapse is being investigated."

Binara scoffed while anger bubbled higher and higher.

"In any case," the governess continued, standing stiffly at the foot of the stairs. "This isn't what I meant to tell you."

"What do you want to tell me then?" she retorted.

"You will do well to consider your mother's wishes. Ever since your parents separated, she's the one who has raised you. Do you think her life has been easy? It's appalling to see you behave the way you do. No respect for adults. Running away from home..."

"I'm not going to uni. You can't force me. Leave me alone, Miss Nayana."

The governess opened her mouth to respond, but Binara ran to her room, ignoring the sharp pain that flared on her side. Something about the words haunted her—she did indeed know little about her mother's life, though she didn't particularly want to find out. The more strangers they were, the better it was. It had always been that way.

Still, the words echoed in her head. She couldn't help thinking of her recent experiences, which had shown her that there was as much to uncover in the past as her present. Part of her wondered how different life would have been if her ghosthunting endeavors had her mother's backing. The other ghosthunter families out there probably weren't as dysfunctional as hers.

Her room greeted her in its reassuring familiarity—her own quiet haven. Branches swayed beyond the balcony under the leaden night sky. It had started to drizzle.

She couldn't help thinking of how she had cowered under the bedding not so long ago—afraid of the balcony and potential supernatural visitors. Now, she had the opposite reaction. Biting her lip, she raked her fingers through her hair and threw a glance at the mirror—even though it was still too early to expect Diyan. She had an hour to kill.

When she was sure Nayana was in her room, she emerged into the hallway and sneaked down to the kitchen. The soft pattering outside turned to a downpour, as if the sky was intent on cleansing the city after all it had been through. Nelum had retired to bed early, but Binara found what she was looking for—vegetable rotis which were essentially triangular wraps stuffed with spicy filling. On her way back, she made a detour to the storeroom where the old ghost woman resided.

The radio Binara had left there earlier in the day still sputtered pirith, but there was no sign of the ghost. She had finally moved on.

Binara smiled, hoping that the woman reincarnated into a good life. As she switched off the radio, a sense of melancholy descended. Her thoughts inadvertently shifted to Diyan.

There was no solution to his existential conundrum. Her stomach sank in tandem with a tiny voice that sprouted in her mind. There is a solution. If he dies, he has a chance to be reborn as a human—the life that was robbed from him. That's what he wants. She swallowed and closed the storeroom door. Her brain refused to ponder it further.

Before retracing her steps, she poked her head into Great-uncle Senarat's room. He was playing peralikatuma by himself again. The sight brought a sad smile to her lips. Good night, Great-uncle.

As she trudged back to her room, Binara ate the roti, though her appetite had dwindled. The Mayadunne Walauwa moaned louder than ever—the rain and thunder adding to the slew of noises. She was too preoccupied with the turbulence inside to give it any heed.

She was so lost in her train of thought that she was well within her room before she noticed the aura—carefully bottled but strong enough to cut through any and all white noise. Her eyes snapped to the balcony.

Diyan stood like a dark shadow, his silver irises focused on her. His cloak rippled in the wind. A flash of lightning outlined his frame—tall and still. Her heart missed a beat.

Binara made for the balcony and slid it open. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Are you worried about me?" His lips twitched at the corners. "And I could ask you the same question."

She rolled her eyes, though warmth gushed to her face. "You can come in."

"Perhaps we could talk out here? Lovely weather."

She glanced at the rain and wet foliage beyond the railing, barely visible in the dark. "What's wrong with my room?"

"I shouldn't be covertly entering maidens' quarters—"

"Right." She shook her head and stepped out into the balcony. "What are you afraid of anyways? Some scandal that would ruin your reputation?"

He chuckled and sank to a sitting position, leaning against the glass. A big, furry head materialized from the shadows and placed itself on his lap.

"Raya!" Binara stroked the head and was rewarded with a rumbling purr. "She's okay now?"

"We're both fine. Thank you."

She pretended not to notice the dazzling smile and took a deep interest in a firefly that flew idly by the rails, twinkling chartreuse. "The sword?"

"Safe. It's best that we return it as soon as possible."

Binara couldn't process the idea of journeying to Mount Meru again, so she latched onto the slight frown that appeared on his brow. "What's up?"

"You forget that what happened didn't just impact the human realm. It has far-reaching ramifications for Holmanloke—some of which we are yet to find out. We can only guess at what might be happening in Raa. While quite a few of Mahasona's followers met their end that night, he has more allies and loyal servants in his realm. We don't know what they will do or who will use the chaos to rise to power. It will take time for the dust to settle, and we must be prepared for what lies ahead."

The rain pattered away, and thunder growled.

"I'm glad that the Yakadura have hidden away Alambara," Binara murmured. "They won't tell anyone where the vault is. It's known only to Molamure and one or two higher-ups."

"Good. That would do for now." Diyan sighed and looked at her sideways. "Don't worry too much. Whatever happens, we will be ready."

"We? I thought you wanted out. You..." Binara inhaled a breath. "You wanted to die."

"I can't let you fight evil alone, Binara." He gazed into the night, his hand idly stroking Raya's head. "I don't know what the future has in store, but I decided that I would cherish what I have now..."

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "Okay..."

"Besides, you might benefit from having a demon on your research team? Someone out in the field..."

Her lips trembled before she could get ahold of herself. "Yeah."

"So much to learn and discover. I wouldn't want to miss all the fun. And those video games..."

A chuckle burst out of her. The heat in her cheeks went up a notch when she realized that his eyes were on her—so ethereal and magnetic that it was like tumbling down the gravity well of Kalacakra. Wavy hair fell onto his forehead, and she breathed in his familiar scent, which suddenly made her aware of how close he was. Her heart beat with a sprightly rhythm.

Binara wrested her gaze from him. She didn't want to deal with the thoughts and feelings he evoked and what they could entail. Instead, she focused on the moment. It was good to sit with him, listening to the rain—what could very well have not come to pass. Warmth suffused her very being until there wasn't even a remnant of the cold void that she had lived with all these years. Darkness pressed in, but life had never been brighter. She was powerful. She was ready for anything.

After all, she was the girl out to hunt the dark—this time, with both a Yakadura agent and a demon by her side.