"Rin Ito," the face glaring down at Rin intoned. "In the name of the Dread Goblin Emperor of the West, I hereby charge you with a qu--"

"Oh my god," Rin groaned, shutting her eyes again. "How did you break into my house?"

The man's mustache quivered with indignation."The quest is of the utmost urgency."

Rin got up and stumbled into her tiny bathroom. The apartment was definitely not worth what she'd paid for it, but in An Lár, space didn't come cheap.

"Isn't it always?" Rin asked, splashing her face with water. "Find someone else."

"If you accept your quest--"

"Buddy, it's clearly a no," said Rin. She patted her face dry and opened the bathroom's window, wincing at the light. "Everyone knows I don't do quests. Now can you please get the fuck out of my apartment, which you somehow broke into?"

The man, who was dressed like a bootleg Dumbledore with facial hair to match, sighed.

"I don't get paid enough for this," he muttered, and swept out of the apartment.

Rin sighed too. Two more days, she told herself. Two more days and I'm back home. She went through the usual routine: marking another day off the calendar, putting her Rings of Protection on, feeding the cat, shooing the pixies off her windowsill, running a comb through her grown-out buzz cut.

At the door, she stopped abruptly. The extra-strength ward she had paid a small fortune to get etched into her lock had faded. Rin swore. That was how the intruder got in.

"This day is just the worst," she said, and left in search of coffee.

The Bean, the one good coffee shop in all of the city of An Lár (and probably in all of Fírinne), already had Rin's order steaming and ready at the counter.

"Bad morning?" Mina, the pretty dwarf barista wiping down a table, said in sympathy as Rin slumped over on the counter.

"It's about to get better," Rin said, taking a swig of the coffee. The Bean's coffee was something she would miss when she was back in the real world--rich and strong, brewed by hand, probably laced with some sort of magical cocaine.

Mina topped the cup off. "Actually, it's probably about to get worse. Someone new appeared at the Hole a couple minutes ago."

Rin cursed and slumped further. "The last one was just last week. Fucking really?"

"I think it's a kid this time," Mina said. "You should probably go get him before someone corners him into a scam quest."

"Two days," Rin said darkly, looking down into her coffee. "Fine. I'm going. Did you ask your girlfriend about the cat?"

"Astrid said she'd take him."

The bells over the doorway jangled cheerfully as Rin walked out of the coffeeshop. "She'd better take good care of him!"

Rin turned around and began to walk to the hum of a city beginning to wake up around her. Stalls in the Dwarf Market were being set up; peddlers were pulling their handmade wares onto the bumpy streets for a long day of overcharging tourists from Fírinne's countryside. The scent of butter-fried apples, roasting chestnuts, and warm pastries slinked from the alleys to the main street. Locals haggled over the price of bread in the goblin-run farmer's market.

An Lár had been Rin's home for the past six years and 363 days. People she knew called out greetings to her in the street and from apartments. The city had no secrets left to give up to her; the breeze curled around her like a friend, as if to say your city will miss you when you are gone. But Rin was twenty-two now, and her curse was nearly up.

Rin turned the corner to the Hole's street with a tuneless hum. Another standard pickup: she would figure out what had brought the kid to Fírinne, get him some supplies, and send him on his way. Simple and efficient. Just as long as she got there before--

"Oh, shit," Rin said, and began to run.

"Welcome to the great land of Fírinne, young man," boomed the elf warrior, looking smug and pointy. "Your destiny awaits you. The High King of the Elves has decreed that you shall go on a quest to retrieve the stolen Diamond of the East from the Mór-Wyvern. It is a great and noble task that will bring you eternal honor."

Rin pushed futilely through the crowd to get eyes on the kid, earning the ire of the starry-eyed tourists that had gathered by the Hole, which was essentially a nondescript wall that occasionally erupted and spit out a human. It was the only bridge between this world and the world that Rin had come from--the real world--nearly seven years ago.

"I...what?" asked the kid, nonplussed. He looked like Harry Potter if Harry had been racially ambiguous and really, really short. Was he fifteen? Sixteen?

The elf lost some of their smugness. "Look, do you accept the quest or not?"

"He does not!" Rin said, emerging triumphantly from the sea of people. She strode towards Short Harry Potter and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Say it, kid. Decline."

The elf deflated when they saw Rin. "I really hate you."

"Um, I decline, I guess," said the kid, when pressed by Rin.

"I'm paid on a commission basis, which means I don't get paid when there are no commissions," said the elf petulantly. "Come on, Rin, I'm just trying to get by."

"Your job sucks, Tiago," Rin said, steering the kid across the street. "Like he could get that diamond anyway. We both know where that is. Let's roll, kid."

Once they had crossed a few blocks over into the quieter residential streets, Rin let go.

"Alright, man, what's your name?"

"Darius," Short Harry Potter replied. "Also, what the hell is going on? Where am I?"

"Darius, my guy," Rin said, ignoring him. "Pissed anyone off lately?"

"I don't think so."

"Felt an unexplainable calling in your soul?"

"No?"

"Wished you could be somewhere else?"

"I actually have a robotics competition I need to be at in two days, so no."

"Felt discontentment with your life?"

"Not really."

"Having issues with identity?"

A silence.

"Oh, there we go," Rin said with deep satisfaction. "Emotional turmoil? Not fitting in anywhere? Internal angst?"

He huffed. "Who are you and why are you psychoanalyzing me?"

In her time there, Rin had seen most of the reasons why someone would end up in Fírinne, a land of dwarves, elves, goblins, fairies, and all the other trappings of middle-grade novels. Once someone had done what they had been sent or summoned to Fírinne for, to go on some bullshit quest or perhaps to discover their true inner selves, they would be free to return to the real world. Rin was just there to mentor a little and provide the backstory until she could get back home. Not to mention stopping people from getting scammed on arbitrary quests.

"So, like," Darius said dubiously, "you're my Gandalf?"

"Yes, kid. I am your Gandalf. But less involved."

"Why are you here, o Gandalf?"

The truth was that Rin's first girlfriend had not quite been....human. At 15, Rin had thought Sonia's odd quirks just extended to dark lipstick and her crystal collection, but after the explosive breakup she discovered that Sonia was, in fact, a tad more occult. That she was, in fact, the daughter of a Fírinnean fairy--not the type with gossamer wings and flimsy good intentions, but more the powerful warlord. That had manifested in the curse Sonia set on her: Rin's seven years in Fírinne for breaking Sonia's heart.

Rin felt that her backstory was kind of lame, so she sidestepped the question.

"Ah, well, you know," she said vaguely. They were at Rin's apartment building now. She unlocked the door to the apartment on the floor underneath hers and shooed Darius in. "You can stay here for the night and take whatever you need. You'll probably want to see Dr. Druimein, magical therapist. The first session is free--just one block down, three blocks right, and it'll be on the second floor. You got this! Bye!"

"Wait--" Darius said, hand outstretched, but by then Rin was gone and the door was closed.

Darius had stopped banging on her door a couple hours ago, so Rin figured it was safe to go out. Fixing her locks for the next tenant, talking to Astrid about the cat--she had errands to run, stuff to get done before she left. Rin topped off the cat food before stepping out of the door and nearly onto her new tenant.

"Aw, Christ's sake, kid," she said, righting herself. "You're still here?"

Darius scrambled to his feet. "Look, just hear me out, okay?"

"That's really not what I'm here for."

He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "I'm gay."

"Oh," said Rin. "Cool, same."

"You are?" asked Darius, brightening.

Rin gestured to herself. "What, the haircut didn't give it away?"

"Only a little. Wait, but that's great! It means you can help me out!"

"Whoa there," Rin said quickly, stepping back. "That's not what I do. I don't do the heavy lifting. I don't go on quests. You've gotta figure your shit out yourself. That's the whole point."

She started to walk away.

"Wait!" Darius said, running after her. "You're from my world too, right?"

Rin paused. "Ye-es," she hedged.

"So, you're here too. There has to be a reason why you're here! Maybe helping me out is what'll help you, too."

She sighed. "No. I had to stay here for seven years as glorified community service because I pissed someone off. My time is up in two days, and I'm not going to do anything to screw that up. Capisce?"

Darius went quiet at that, and Rin did feel kind of bad. This nerdy baby gay, stranded in an unfamiliar fantasy land, had come to her for help. As a rule, Rin didn't do help beyond pointing people in the right direction, but she figured she could do a good deed on her last few nights in Fírinne.

"Okay," she said finally. "Come on. I'll take you to dinner after I've run some errands, but after that, you're on your own."

"So how can I, like, streamline this self-help process?" Darius asked, leaning forward eagerly on the table.

"No deep talk before we eat," said Rin, waving over a surly-looking waiter. They were at her favorite restaurant--quiet atmosphere, good prices, vegetarian options, the works. "We'll have two vegetarian plates, please, Gwyll."

"You're a vegetarian?" Darius asked, watching with interest as Gwyll moved to a group of goblins seated nearby.

"I dated an elf once. You never really go back to meat after that."

After they had eaten, Rin ordered two coffees and leaned back expectantly. "Let's hear it, then."

"I actually don't like coffee," Darius said, and then, catching Rin's expression, "um, nevermind. Okay, so, I kind of really need to be back home day after tomorrow--"

"Why?"

"I have a robotics competition."

"So?"

"It's state. It's, like, really important. We could go to nationals. And my team is definitely going to lose without me."

"Whatever, nerd," Rin muttered, taking a long drink of coffee.

Darius gave her the stink-eye. "I need to get home. Which means I need to hurry whatever this is up."

    Rin drummed her fingers on the table. It was always much simpler when someone had been summoned to Fírinne for an actual, bonafide quest, or by a curse like her own. When someone's own inner conflicts were the reason for their stint outside the real world, it got complicated. She had seen people who spent their lives in Fírinne working out their issues. That Darius wanted to somehow speedrun a process that delicate worried her.

"Alright," she said. "So you want to bone dudes. Not that you should be boning anyone at your age--"

"--I'm fifteen--"

"--My point exactly. Anyway. Speak your truth, man. What's up?"

Darius was silent for a few seconds. "Actually, I hadn't ever, like. Told anyone. Before today."

He toyed with the handle of his untouched coffee cup.

"I don't even think I admitted it to myself, really," Darius said. "It was just--something that was always, always in the back of my mind, you know? Like, something is up. Something isn't clicking. But I didn't want to deal with it. Because if it was true, if I didn't like girls, that would make my life so much harder."

Rin listened.

"My parents are immigrants. And they love me so much. They had to work really hard to get to where we are now, and I know they want me to have a good life. Except, to them, that means eventually marrying a nice Lebanese woman and giving them grandchildren, like my older brother and my cousins. And--it's not, I don't feel, like, pressured, or anything. I just--"

Darius broke off.

"I don't want to break their hearts," he said, almost too softly to hear.

"I get what that's like," Rin said. "Feeling like you have a duty to your family. Like you'd be betraying them by not doing what they want. But it's also--you can't live your life a liar to please someone else. No matter how much you love them."

"Yeah," Darius said miserably. "I know. Still feels like crap, though."

A drizzle had started up outside, raindrops hitting the uneven cobblestones until the street reflected the wavering lamplights overhead. Pixies dove for shelter under awnings and doorstops, bursting into annoyed chittering whenever they were hit by droplets. Rin and Darius watched the way they huddled together, wrapping arms and wings around each other against the wind.

Darius cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's why robotics is important to me. Winning in robotics, going on to a good college, becoming an engineer--if I'm at least good at something, successful at something, I won't be a complete failure."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the sky darkening into a cloudy night sky. Gwyll came by to collect their coffee cups, giving Darius a dirty look for his still-full mug. Selkies did not like waste.

"Look, kiddo," Rin said. "I want to be honest with you. This shit takes time, and a lot of it. Hell, I've had seven years to work through my own identity, and sometimes I still don't know if I'm done. And it's clear you've got a lot to work through. So I don't think....how do I say this?"

"You don't think I can fit years' worth of personal growth into approximately 36 hours," Darius translated.

"Exactly. Which is why I'm going to help you do something stupid."

Darius cocked his head in confusion. It was adorable, Rin thought. Like a baby duck.

"The first thing you've gotta know is that this is not a quest, because I find quests offensive on a deeply personal level. Quests are for people who don't have friends," Rin said.

Darius still looked confused.

"Catch up, kid. We're going to con the system."

"Rin Ito, your services are required by Prince Hrothrehr the Honorable. I challenge you--"

"Oh, fuck," Rin groaned. "I forgot to change the lock."

She waved the hapless dwarf out of her apartment, jammed a chair under her door, and checked the window. The sun had breached An Lár's horizon not long ago, peeking out between the haphazard buildings and turning the clouds pastel. Way too early. Rin stumbled blindly into her kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. Then she would go back to sleep--oh, going back to bed sounded so nice right now--

"Goooooood morning sleepyhead," Darius, who was sitting at her cramped table, grinned with obvious delight at her jump. He shovelled another bite of Pixie Pops into his mouth. "How was your sleep?"

"Jesus Christ, Darius, wear a bell or something," Rin hissed, suddenly more awake after spilling an entire glass of water on herself. "How did you--oh, the lock."

"You definitely have an infestation of some kind, by the way," Darius continued blithely. "I saw something kind of hairy."

"That's just the house brownie," Rin said, ignoring Darius's look of confusion, and went to get dressed. By the time she got back, he was on his second bowl.

"Whenever you're done draining my kitchen, recap what I told you last night so I know you're not going to accidentally sell your soul to the Fair Folk on our anti-quest. What must you never do?"

"Tell a fairy your real name," Darius recited. "That way you don't get trapped in a curse."

"Acceptable. Where are we going?"

"The middle of the city, where the only fairy in the city lives. I actually had a question about that."

"No questions. Why are we going there?"

"To get the failsafe that opens the portal between Fírinne and our world. Okay, can I please ask a question? It's a different one this time."

Rin rolled her eyes. "Fine."

"If you knew that there was a way to get back home the whole time, why didn't you use it?"

She poured herself a bowl of Pixie Pops with almond milk. "I didn't know the whole time. I only found out about it last year when my friend Mina and I were helping her girlfriend find a potion to transition. Besides, I didn't want...."

Rin trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

"You didn't want to leave An Lár before you had to," Darius guessed. "That makes sense, I guess. It's been seven years. Fine, but why didn't you let anyone else use it?"

"Remember when I said that wasn't what I was here for?" Rin popped a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "I don't get involved. Didn't. Now focus. Picture the failsafe."

Rin had described it to Darius as looking almost like a playing card. Translucent but for the inscribed gold, it was made of glass. When you turned it to the side, it was too thin to see; held up to the light, it turned the rich emerald green signature to the Fair Folk. Slotted between the bricks of the wall at the Hole, it would allow safe passage from Fírinne back to Earth. Rin knew, too, the only place it could be.

She kind of wished she didn't.

"Keep all this focused in your mind when we're in the house," Rin said. "fairy magic works essentially like alcohol, which you wouldn't know about because you're too young--"

"--I'm fifteen--"

"--Exactly my point. Being in proximity to a fairy, it'll muddle your mind unless you have clear intentions. So leave the talking to me, stick close by, and try not to bump into anything. You ready?"

Darius met her eyes steadily. "Beats having to confront all my deepest insecurities in one day."

Rin studied him. He didn't look too nervous, but then again, he didn't know what he was walking into. "Alright, man. Hope robotics is worth it. Let's get going on this--"

"--Quest!"

"I will feed you to a dragon."

They set off at a brisk pace. The cobblestones were still damp--it had rained well into the night--and the smell of bread from the city bakeries permeated the air. They stopped at The Bean to buy Rin's morning coffee and a pastry from Mina, who was opening shop for the day.

Rin leaned across the counter. "Hey, you still have that thing I gave you for safekeeping, right?"

"Yeah, but what do you need that for?" Mina asked. "Oh, no. That's what you're doing? You're going to the Lady for help? Rin, so help me, why--"

Mina did not approve of their anti-quest, but still threw in an extra pastry for free. Rin and Darius chewed as they walked through the streets; as they got closer to the heart of the city, the buildings seemed to draw around them, and the streets narrowed, getting bumpier.

"Here," Rin said, pulling Darius down a sharp left turn. They stopped in front of a tiny, coal-black house; the air around it seemed to shimmer, gauzy in a way that made it look like a mirage had found its way to the middle of the city and decided to make its home there. Rin reached for the knocker, but before she could get hold of it, the door flew open to a harried goblin housemaid.

"What business do you have here?" She looked suspiciously from one to the other. "State your names!"

Rin stepped forward. "We just want to speak with Lady Anya. I go by Jane Doe."

"And I go by Harry Potter," Darius chirped.

The goblin woman narrowed her eyes before convincing herself that there was nothing too suspicious about those answers. "Get in, then."

They stepped into the house. The haze of the air was even thicker there; the magic pollen-like, drifting in gold flecks on the breeze from the windows, settling on the austere walls. Rin and Darius came to a stop in the center of the room.

"Look," Darius said, pointing to a table in the corner, where an intricately carved music box stood open and motionless. It was one of those where the figurine, a couple in wedding clothes, spun as music played--Rin had played with one as a kid.

"What about it?"

Darius frowned. "Machinery doesn't exist in this world, right? So why--"

There was a sound behind them. Rin didn't turn around. The fairy would come face to face with them when she wanted to.

"What do you want?"

The voice was soft, like the rasp of tree branches in the wind.

"I'm here to bargain," Rin said. "I believe we can reach a trade."

"What is your name?"

"I go by Jane Doe."

The fairy made a very undignified harrumphing noise, and, quick as a flash, appeared before them.

"Oh, don't kid yourself, Rin Ito," Sonia's mother said. "I know who you are."

"Tea?"

"Yes, please," Rin said, gritting her teeth. Fae hospitality was not to be refused, but on the other hand, she really hated tea.

"Finally," Darius said. "Someone in this country that doesn't drink coffee."

Lady Anya poured the tea into delicate china glasses. Her resemblance to her daughter--short, tan, suspiciously pointy ears--kept taking Rin aback; she hadn't seen Sonia in seven years, but one does not forget one's first girlfriend, especially a girlfriend that banishes one to a fantasy land upon breaking up.

"I like your music box," Darius said, drinking his tea. Surely he couldn't be that easy to win over, Rin thought. What, a cup of tea and he was getting all buddy-buddy?

"Well, thank you. It was a wedding gift from--"

Rin didn't want to spend more time here than she had to. "We're here to bargain for the failsafe."

"Of course you are," Lady Anya said, stirring a sugar cube into her tea. "I only wondered that you took so long to come see me. And on the eve of your return, too."

"Pardon?"

"I will give you the artifact, Rin Ito," the Lady said sharply. "My daughter was not within her rights to banish you here. The slight was not so large, and the Fair Folk are nothing if not, well, fair. So I will give it to you."

Rin sipped her tea for appearances. It couldn't be that easy. "What's the catch?"

Lady Anya smiled. "Only you may use it. No other human will be able to touch it."

Darius looked at Rin. Having the failsafe would mean that Rin would be able to return to Fírinne, this world that had been her home for nearly a third of her life, whenever she wanted to. Having the failsafe only for herself--having the best of both worlds, whenever she wanted it; her parents, her friends, her cat. Her life.

"No," Rin said, sitting back in her chair. That was not why she was here.

"I thought not," the Lady said. "You are not bargaining for yourself. What, then, would you offer me?"

Rin dug out something from the small bag Mina had given her and set it on the table.

"The Diamond of the East," Lady Anya noted. "Last seen in the Mór-Wyvern's caves. Interesting."

Darius's eyes widened. "Hey, isn't that..."

"What you were supposed to get on Tiago's quest for you?" Rin supplied. "The Mór-Wyvern is a friend. He gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday."

His eyes widened further. "You're friends with a dragon?"

"Yeah, man," Rin said. "He goes by Mo these days."

"As I was saying," Lady Anya said, sounding annoyed by the interruption. "Interesting. But no. The Fair Folk have no need to fill their coffers up with pretty things."

"But the Diamond is an incredibly effective bargaining chip," Rin pressed. "The Fair Folk could use it in their dealings with the elves."

"The failsafe will not be exchanged for a cold, hard rock," the Lady said. "It requires. . . value. Something with sentiment."

Rin set her cup down with a clink. Tea splashed over the rim. "What do you want, then? My soul? His soul? You already have my name. Go ahead and curse away. Hasn't your family taken enough from me?"

"Maybe so. But we have not yet done anything to him," she said. "What will it be, child? What will you give me?"

And they were back to square one. This was why, Rin thought, she had never gotten involved before. Trying to thwart the magic of Fírinne just could not be done in a straightforward manner. The failsafe, like so much else, seemed like a mirage, a child's fantasy. Darius would have to go the long way in this country. Rin remained silent.

The Lady stood up to see them out. "Well, in that case--"

"No," Darius said suddenly. "You haven't repaid Rin yet for your daughter sending her here. The trade works both ways, right?"

Lady Anya frowned. "What?"

"As in, you've got to give Rin something of value to make right what was done to her. Right?"

"I, well, yes," the Lady said.

Darius stood up and walked to the table where the music box was held. It really was beautiful; polished wood and inlaid gold. "You said this was a wedding gift. Would this do?"

Lady Anya looked at him sourly, her mouth puckering up in disapproval. "I suppose it would."

"Great," said Darius, looking at Rin. "Rin, would you accept this?"

Rin looked at Darius. What was he doing? She didn't need a music box. Hell, Rin didn't care about whatever debt her ex's mom thought she needed to pay. Rin was here to help Darius get out, and that was it.

"Darius, what--"

"Rin," he said urgently. "Would you?"

Rin narrowed her eyes at him, but conceded that she would.

Lady Anya looked increasingly sour. "Well, then, I transfer the ownership of my most prized wedding gift over to this girl."

Darius grinned, wide. "Okay, great. Now, Rin, do you transfer ownership of the music box to me?"

"I'm lost," Rin said helplessly. What did Darius need the music box for? "Whatever you say, kid."

"Now," Darius said, turning to face Lady Anya. "I'm ready to bargain. The failsafe, free for Rin or I to use--"

He held up the music box.

"--for this."

For a long moment, nobody spoke.

Finally, the fairy stood up
.
"I hate humans," she said, and snapped her fingers.

Rin and Darius landed with their butts on the concrete outside.

"Ow," Rin said, and then: "Did that actually work?"

"I don't know," Darius said, looking around frantically. "She just kicked us out! Why'd she do that?"

Rin pounded on the door of the house, not bothering with the knocker, but nobody responded, goblin housemaid, fairy, or otherwise. She kicked the door. "Stupid fucking fairy."

Darius slumped against the wall and sat back down. "No offense, but your ex's mom sucks."

"Tell me about it," Rin said, sitting next to him. She leaned her head against the wall and looked up at the spectacularly clear sky. She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, kiddo."

They had failed. Perhaps the one time that Rin had tried to help someone new to Fírinne, and she had failed. This was why she stayed out of quests, of other people's business. Darius was trapped here, and Rin had a niggling sense that it was her fault for being unprepared for the bargain.

"Guess I'll have to see your magical therapist after all," Darius said glumly.

Rin looked at him. "Dr. Druimein. Tell her you're my friend and she'll give you a discount."

A pixie landed on Darius's knee. He tried to feed it some croissant crumbs left on his shirt collar; within a few years in An Lár, he would realize that pixies were essentially just pigeons with cooler wings. Within a few years, Rin would be long past pixies, and long past Fírinne.

She was going to miss her cat. And her coffee order. The real world didn't do a cold brew like Mina did.

"Come on," Rin said, getting to her feet and extending a hand to Darius. "I'll help you get set up. Sorry about your robotics competition."

They walked to Rin's apartment in silence; the streets widened, the buildings seemed to step back, and the bustle of An Lár's midday returned to them. Rin pushed open her door--damn that lock--was there a point in fixing it if she was just going to leave tomorrow?

"Adventure's over, I guess," Rin said. "Make yourself at home."

Rin was not woken up by a rogue scammer the next morning, or even a teenager in her kitchen eating all her food. The cat had walked on her face instead, demanding food with a high pitched meow. Today was the day, Rin remembered. A pit was forming in her stomach. The day she had waited seven years for.

Rin made herself breakfast, got dressed, fed the cat for the last time--Astrid would come over after she had gone to pick him up.

"Goodbye," Rin said to nobody in particular. She picked up her backpack. And then she left.

There was a small crowd at the Hole--not tourists, this time, but friends and acquaintances and people that crossed over that never left. Mina. Astrid. Her amicable elven ex. Gwyll. Tiago--shit, was that Mo? And, of course, Darius.

Rin stopped in front of them, standing, waiting for the wall to open and bring her--

Well. Was it a home? Was it still?

The Hole erupted in full cataclysmic glory of swirling lights and sparks and glimpses of the void behind it, but Rin was having an epiphany.

"I don't want to go," she said in wonder. Rin whirled around. "I don't want to go!"

Behind her, the Hole belched one last time before falling silent. Rin knew that the world she had known--the world she had been born to--stood behind her. She strode over to Darius.

"Listen, Darius," she said severely. "Take my place. You've gotta go through that. You have your whole life ahead of you--you've gotta get to college and become an engineer. You don't have time to dick around with the fairies like I do."

"What about you?" Darius asked, eyes wide.

Rin spread her arms out. These were her people. This was her place. "This is my life."

Darius swallowed.

"Go!" Rin urged. "It's not going to stay open forever."

Darius stepped forward. "Rin... you'll get the failsafe, right? Come visit?"

"Course I will," Rin said. "Now you go flip Sonia off for me."

He took one step, then another. Earth beckoned.

"Bye, Gandalf," Darius said softly, and went.

"Bye, kid."

The Hole closed. The regular noise of An Lár resumed; the peddlers, the locals, the tourists. The sounds of the city. The sounds of home.

Rin turned to face her friends.

"Good lord," she said, swinging her backpack off her shoulder. "I need a coffee."