"Have another one," Mira encouraged me, sliding another slice of her pretty birthday cake inside my plate.

I was about to protest, when she stopped me.

"I've seen how you were looking at it," she smiled. "You're still hungry."

It was true. The thing was, I was always hungry. And it wasn't even because my previous living conditions had been that bad — if the Metis knew I needed more food, they would have given it to me. But Atticus had never asked more than his fair share, and I had the appetite of boys who were still growing up. Which kind of freaked me out, because I was already pretty tall.

I could only nod. The cake crumbled a little, and tiny bits fell on the tablecloth, but Mira refused to show if she was any embarrassed by her lack of coordination skills.

"Aurora would have loved the cake," I said. "She bakes wonderful sweets at her parents' inn, but she's still searching for the right ingredients to dye them charming colors."

"Thank you," she said. "I didn't make it myself, but I thought of it. It is the color of my favorite flower, that of the plant commonly called Agatea. Though it is cultivated also here, it's originally from the country where I was born."

As she said that, she pointed at the flower garland she was wearing in her short-cropped black hair. The flowers were undoubtedly the ones she was talking about, as they were the same color of the cake.

"It looks wonderful, my dear," Minx bent down to kiss her, as he brought her a champagne glass.

Mira smiled, becoming even more beautiful. Minx wasn't bad-looking, but more of an acquired taste. I wondered why she hadn't aimed higher, and immediately felt bad for it.

"Thank you," she said. "It feels good to hear that, especially at my age."

Mira was turning forty, which made me realize that Minx himself might have been a little older than I'd thought him to be. Not that she looked any older, with her smooth dark skin and her dazzling dark eyes, fringed with long eyelashes.

"Stop staring at my fiancée," Minx chastised me. "It's rude."

But he winked at me to let me know he wasn't really serious.

"Your fiancée?" Mira gasped happily. "That's the first I hear of it."

"Well, darling, it's actually my birthday present..."

I left them alone, and went searching for Jonathan. I still hadn't seen him that day, and, no matter how much I liked Mira and Minx separately — I always felt uneasy around couples. The same happened to me with Atticus and Aurora.

Jonathan was muttering something under his breath, sitting a little apart from everybody, but not so much that the distance would be considered rude.

It felt strange to see him so detached, but I felt happier knowing he didn't feel the need to pretend if he didn't feel like it.

Still, I had to keep reminding myself that being his friend, like he'd asked me to, would be a bad idea. After all, I still believed this project of Minx couldn't go on for long.

And no matter how much he claimed he respected Prophets, or how much he wanted for us to be on friendly terms — the moment I would become useless, he'd leave.

Besides, he clearly couldn't be compared to Skandar, but I still hadn't decided how it was the best way to act with other people my age, after I'd messed it up so badly.

But before I could stop my tongue, the words were out.

"Can I hang around?" I asked him.

"Sure," he tried to smile. "Though I doubt you'd have much fun. I'm still thinking about Aurora and Adina."

"If I wanted to be happy," I gestured over the far side of the table, where Atticus and Minx were playing a game of singing happy birthday to Mira in all the languages they knew, less for her amusement, and more for competition.

"I also think we should prioritize other things," I added. "But maybe I just don't get birthday parties."

I blushed. "I'm not sure when my birthday would be," I admitted. "Once, when I was small, Aurora asked me because she wanted to throw me a big party. Atticus got mad at her. Lately, he apologized, saying that we didn't know, and he didn't want her to rub it in."

"But your father must have known," Jonathan pointed out. "And even Atticus, who was already about eight years old when you were born, right?"

"Atticus told me some woman my father had bedded just left me on their doorstep, already a few months old. It was hard to tell how many, though. It's not that bad. Atticus was delivered to father the same way, albeit from a different woman."

"You can laugh if you want," I encouraged him. "It is kind of funny."

"I never know if you're saying stuff just to wind me up or not," he admitted.

"The things I say may be weird, but I'm honest," I assured him. "Honesty is like, my main thing."

"What about you?" I teased him. "I'm guessing big birthday parties with angel themed decorations?"

"Then you don't know Athanasios Ducas at all," he sighed. "Not to mention that it would be a very morbid birthday for a Watcher to have. We don't... see ourselves the way other people do."

"You didn't seem to be exactly grieving when you showed off your wingspan, pretty boy."

"I'm going to ignore what you just called me," Jonathan grinned. "And call you out for having had further thoughts about my... wings."

"No," he added then, soberly. "I never celebrated my birthday either, though I know the day. Athanasios didn't think it was important. However, he celebrated the day I came into their home. But it wasn't about me — it was about him, and how insightful he had been to... take me in."

Prophet powers or not, I could tell Jonathan was leaving out some important pieces from the story, but I didn't pry.

It was way better than lying about things, anyway.

Besides, he hadn't pressed on either. He hadn't asked why Atticus and I hadn't bothered to celebrate made-up birthdays, or try to hazard a guess as to when we were born.

"They've stopped singing and chatting," I said, after a beat. "We should check out if something is wrong."

"Maybe they're just tired," Jonathan tried to reassure me. "And you seem to have a tendency to think of the worst possible outcomes. But, if it makes you feel better, we can go and ask them."

As soon as we saw Mira up close, we decided that we had made a good choice by reuniting with the others. While no one was hurt, or in danger, she looked very distressed.

"Dominic just told me about Adina," she said. "We, as researchers, knew each other. As you know, the numbers of the Creatures have just become a problem quite recently, which meant she hadn't had much time to incorporate the problem in her study. But Atticus read some of her papers yesterday, and I think I could assimilate her research into mine. I have got to go back to my office and find my papers."

"Can't this wait?" Minx asked, a little puzzled.

"No," she explained. "If someone killed her for what she was discovering, they might have destroyed the evidence I gathered so far. I need to see that all my stuff is still there."

"Just pay attention," Minx touched her arm softly. "If that was the reason behind the murder, then the killer could go after you, too. And they're still on the loose."

"I'll pay attention," Mira promised. "I don't want to die on my birthday. Not more than once."

Mira had assured us her office wasn't that far from the field where she held her birthday party, so we could wait there while she went back.

Jonathan was restless, and I was feeling pretty much the same way. I tried to think about something that could keep me occupied.

"I'll take the knife Mira used to cut the cake," I decided. "It seems like a waste to leave it behind."

"Brother," Atticus complained, chewing on a twig. "Don't make it weird."

"Just out of curiosity," I groaned. "Were they your first words?"

"No," Atticus replied very seriously. "You were yet to be born when I uttered my first word. Which was thank you to the nice lady who lived down the street, and gave nice children candy, just so you know."

Minx actually looked impressed.

"There are people who still have trouble thanking others even when they're grown up," he commented.

"I know," Atticus smirked. "My brother is one of them."

I hoped the others knew he must have been joking. While I wasn't always the most polite person around, I really tried, and it wouldn't be fair to point my faults out like that.

"And which one was Roman's first word?" Jonathan asked. "Since you were already eight years old when he was born, you ought to remember."

"Come on," I said. "Knowing myself, it was probably something stupid. And why are you so curious about stuff like that? Has it anything to do with your Skill?"

"It was stop," Atticus said. "I realized later he was probably half-asleep and having one of his terrible nightmares."

When Jonathan's expression softened, I decided it was time to say something.

"Look, I don't want to be pitied for it," I commented immediately. "It's true that it's hard being a Prophet, but just like with Watchers, it is the price to pay for our powers."

Even though it made me sad to think I must have had nightmares even at that age, and I couldn't imagine how scary they must have been to make me utter 'stop' as my first word.

Assuming the story was true, of course.

Thankfully, Mira came back before anyone else could add anything.

There was something strange about her, though.

She walked up to Atticus, stopping only when their faces were a few inches apart.

"You have many secrets, little one," she said, with a different voice. A voice that sounded ancient, and rough like it hadn't been used in a very long time. "Were that I could choose which body to inhabit, I would have chosen yours. Pretty little empty head, with a lot of information."

Atticus paled visibly, and unsheathed his red ax. It was made of ruby.

To my surprise, Jonathan and Minx got ready to use their weapons, too.

"This is a demon," Jonathan said, to my benefit. "They have never crossed into our dimension before, but I've heard of their legends before."

"What happened to Mira?" I asked. "Is the demon supposed to be some kind of shapeshifter?"

Minx Morris looked at me with a murderous expression in his stormy eyes. I figured I had been the usual fool, and offended his fiancèe beyond repair.

"I'm thinking of a possession," Jonathan said. "Probably by a dybbuk. It makes sense. They have never talked so eloquently and for such a long period of time, nor have they ever possessed somebody, that is, in recent times. But dybbuks can be formed from souls that haven't passed on, and it might be easier for them to reach us — maybe it's someone who just died and it's still stuck here."

"You can't cut it out of her, though," I was suddenly panicking. "You know that, right?"

"And neither can you," Minx replied, eyeing suspiciously the cake-stained knife I was still playing with.

"This is unprecedented," Jonathan said. "I guess I could use Knowledge again, and ask what we should do."

As he said that, his wings fluttered sadly, as if to say he was way more tired than he was letting on.

"No," I protested. "It's too draining, and you're not supposed to use it so often."

"Demons hadn't walked in our world for thousands of years," I added, sounding braver than I felt. "But I remember the old legends now too. If someone is to be exorcized, I should be the one to do it."

"You don't even know how to do it!" Atticus complained.

"Neither does any of you," I replied. "And I have my powers."

In fact, my visions weren't always loud and painful, or difficult to decipher. Sometimes, they let me see the world in a different way, that helped me to come up with solutions to problems. I'd used it also when I healed people from time to time, it was the reason Anthony had trusted me with his nephew.

"You're right, Watchers," Mira said. "I am a dybbuk. It was hard to invade this holy one, but since the barrier within this world and other realms has gotten thinner, I figured I had to try."

The barrier had gotten thinner? This must have been the reason why the Creatures had been multiplying — there were more that could manage to cross over!

"As for the Prophet," the dybbuk added. "He is right. He can slay me. It is a fair fight, though. I have slain my share of Prophets in the past, and I can tell he has never got rid of a demon."

"How can you tell this kind of thing?" Jonathan asked. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I was kind of expecting him to start asking questions.

"I can tell many things about each of you, though none so clearly as if I was possessing you," the dybbuk went on. "In the same way foolish humans from ancient times believed unicorns could tell if you had been touched by the desire of another, or you were still pure. As for that fact, I know it troubles humans and Watchers alike. I can assure you I could venture an accurate guess for each one of you."

"There is no such thing as an accurate guess," I growled. "And you're starting to get on my nerves."

In the meantime, I had a clear vision that showed me what I was supposed to do. I had to concentrate to keep it together, but I was still surprised that it had come easier to me than it used to.

"A dybbuk is often attached to a dead soul who could not transmigrate successfully," I said. "As long as that happened in their home dimension, it was still Watcher's business. You're a demon. But if you need to be dealt with in another manner, then sending the poor soul to the realm of the dead is what we must do. And collaborating with the dead is within my power."

I felt confident that my words were the truth, that I could do it. I wondered if having powers one knew how to use would feel like that. I wondered how that changed you.

"The Fathers and Mothers at the temple probably know how to do it, too," Atticus said.

"Maybe they know how to do it better," I replied. "But how long would it take to reach them and ask for help? I can do it faster."

I wasn't even sure the Fathers and Mothers could do it. In the legends, they sometimes did, if a Prophet wasn't around, but the modern ones hadn't been trained for the occurrence.

I blocked out all my thoughts but one, and I knew what to do.

"Dybbuk!" I called it. I could not show any fear of it, if I wanted to compel it. "State your purpose in entering this woman."

I touched Mira's shoulders, and tried not to act too surprised when I saw my magic, in the form of a blue flow of energy, enveloping her. I could not see myself, but I realized the same energy was probably visible all around me.

"I wanted to drive this woman to madness, and make her destroy her research," the voice said, strained, half the dybbuk's, and half Mira's. "These plans weren't entirely my own, I had a master..."

Mira's face went blank before we could find out who the master was. I had to go on with the ritual faster, before it could completely leave the body.

I uttered the ancient words that should have banished it, and let it be unable to take over other people's bodies to do its bidding.

Finally, I hardened my grip on the cake-stained knife, and stabbed Mira on her big toe, right under the nail.

"I was wrong," I grinned later, exhausted, but still buzzing with adrenaline. "Turns out, she had to be stabbed."

When Atticus rolled his eyes, I decided to explain.

"I... I knew what to do, thanks to the vision I had. It guided me. And the final part of the process was the stabbing, to make the dybbuk bleed out. Don't worry — ancient people have chosen this spot carefully as the one less likely to damage the body of the possessed person."

I could tell everybody was still a little impressed, and wary. I hadn't seen myself, but it wasn't hard to guess the whole scene might have looked pretty intense. And, even if they were Watchers, and they were used to overwhelming stuff, what I had just done was as new to them as it was to me.

I hadn't really believed Minx Morris when he'd told me that as a Prophet I had a value whether I believed it or not, but now I was starting to see what he meant.

Mira tried her best to hide how fearful she'd been of the dybbuk, but I could see the truth — literally. She had sent scary thoughts to me when I touched her. Apparently, though my powers had gotten better, I could still read people without realizing it.

"Is everything alright?" I asked her.

"Not really," she said.

"I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have touched you. I felt how that angered the dybbuk, its desire to leave faster. And I guess I shouldn't have stabbed you either, though that was kind of a crucial part of the whole process."

Mira smiled a little at that.

"It's been an entertaining birthday party," she just said. "Better than the one where I was turned anyway. I was fifteen, and it happened so fast I barely realized I'd come back after. I had a hard time recovering, you know?"

"It sounds horrible," I commented, and I truly meant it.

"Don't be sorry about what you had to do today, kid," she added. "I have to thank you for what you've done for me. I'm just sad because, even though now we know that these things are happening because the barrier is thinning, who knows what will it take for us to stop them?"