Twisted gargoyle faces welcomed Araminta, perched on each side of the cemetery gate. The statues didn't scare her. Horror and death had never seemed frightening to her, but rather intriguing. The cemetery embraced her in its arms whenever she visited, which was often. The gargoyles were her friends, never expecting her to smile, flick her hair, or come up with the right words.

The world outside the cemetery was what scared her, with its expectations to conform and connect. If you couldn't, you were ostracized. If you wouldn't, you were scorned. Araminta refused to play games with rules she'd never understood. She was ready for a different game, one that only she could play. That's why she was out here at this early hour before the sun peeked over the horizon.

Hearing a car passed by, Araminta turned. She recognized the driver. Her neighbor and classmate, Jordan Thompson. For a moment, she faltered. Because sometimes, it seemed like he saw her. They'd never talked, but in a way, that's what united them. Beneath the buzz of high school, they were quiet bystanders, trying to not betray their bepuzzlement with the social rhythm. It would have been so easy to turn around, to ask him for a ride, to strike up a conversation. It would have been so easy for anyone but Araminta Green.

So she kept walking, lace-up boots clicking against the neatly tiled path of the cemetery. Quick steps toward the grave of the only one who'd ever understood her inner turmoil: the first Araminta. She had taught Araminta about the powers beyond social intricacies. Ancient and mighty forces, which anyone could wield. But the knowledge had been lost to time, living only deep in the forest among the ones that protected it.

But Araminta knew. She didn't know how to make small talk or introduce herself but she knew how to wield magic. Still, the knowledge had never been tested, as she'd been fearful of the consequences. Because unless someone looked for her in the right place, she may not be able to return.

Araminta was afraid no more. Because if no one looked for her—spending the time to find out what mattered to her and where she may have gone—of what use was returning anyway? She had nothing to lose. She needed to fly free, like the spell promised. She didn't know what would happen but she knew that any outcome was better than spending another day in silence among chattering peers.

Putting a white flower on the grave, she bent down and put her hand on the flat stone. It was told that the bond between the living and the dead heightened the power of incantations. After taking a deep breath to prepare herself, she started speaking unwieldy words of unknown origin. Thick purple fog rolled in, smelling like roses and sounding like wind chimes. Araminta flew free into its mysterious embrace.

***

"I know where she is." Jordan kept his gaze fastened at the tarot card, which had just revealed Araminta's final moments before vanishing." He looked up to meet Derek's eyes, assuring himself that what he'd seen had been real. "She's in the cemetery."

That's all he knew so far. The card refused to give up all its secrets at once. But Jane had told Jordan it would guide him toward Araminta and he trusted it to do so in due time. He trusted it to tell him how to free her.

Derek squeezed Jordan's hand in his. "Then we'll go there," he said, not hesitating to believe in Jordan's magical revelation for even a moment.

With urgency in their steps, because time could be of the essence to free Araminta from whatever spell held her, they made their way downstairs. Derek carefully helped Jordan wrangle his casted arm into a jacket sleeve when Jordan's dad appeared from the kitchen, giving his oldest son a pointed look.

"And where are you two going?" he asked.

"Out..." Jordan mumbled, knowing that was probably too brief of an explanation. But he couldn't very well explain that he had a magical epiphany when looking at an ancient tarot card. "We're doing a podcast thing."

James sighed, wringing his hands on the fabric of his apron. "I'm going to need a bit more information than that, Jordan. I know you're an adult but you are under our roof currently and after what happened last time you did something for the podcast, I think I'm allowed to be a bit suspicious. You're not breaking into another house, are you?"

"No, it's nothing like that." Jordan shook his head decisively. "We're going to the cemetery. There's something I need to find there. A grave. It's associated with Araminta's case."

"You're going to the cemetery in the darkness?" James pointed out the window, where night had started to fall. "I hope you're not breaking into a mausoleum?"

"Definitely not," Jordan replied, shuddering at the thought of committing a burglary in the house of the dead. "I swear we're not doing anything untoward. We just need to confirm something, and it's kind of urgent."

"I promise to take care of Jordan, Mr Thompson," Derek added. "He won't get in any trouble on my watch."

James looked to Derek and then to Jordan as if pondering what to do with them. "Alright... don't make me regret this, boys," he finally said, gesturing toward the door. "And be back by ten at the latest, or I will go out there and look for you."

As his dad disappeared into the kitchen again, Jordan breathed a sigh of relief. Wanting to leave before the decision was changed, he attempted to close the zipper of his jacket but failed multiple times on account of his injured arm. Luckily, Derek noticed his struggle and stepped up close, hooking the zipper and pulling it up. He ended the helpful gesture with a quick peck on Jordan's lips. That's when a cascade of rainbow confetti rained down over them. Confused, Jordan looked to the stairs to see Darcy, a wide smile on her lips and a basket of home-cut confetti on her arm.

"Could you not?" he muttered.

"What? I'm being supportive!" Darcy exclaimed, aghast that her gesture wasn't appreciated.

"Just... not now. We need to go." Jordan took Derek's hand, pulling him out the door before his younger sister burst into a song-and-dance routine to celebrate their relationship.

Hand in hand, they ran through twilight-laden streets. The journey took them way less than what it had taken Jordan during his first podcast. It felt so long ago now, even though only a few weeks had passed. Jordan hadn't known Derek then. He hadn't known himself. But he was still on the same mission: he needed to find Araminta.

By the gate to the cemetery, Jordan stopped to catch his breath, doubling over as he fought for air. Running was not his forte. Meanwhile, Derek was barely breaking a sweat. Jordan wondered if perhaps he'd done track in high school, deciding to ask later. There was more important business to tend to at the moment.

"Are you supposed to be here, ma'am?"

Jordan lifted his head to see Derek talking to a familiar black cat, elegantly balancing on the cemetery walls.

"Mroow!" Kiki replied, which probably meant "I'm supposed to be wherever I want."

"Did we not close the door properly after us?" Derek asked Jordan. "So she got out, I mean."

Jordan shrugged, taking a deep breath to regain his ability to speak. "Kiki finds a way to follow if she wants to. She'll be alright. She is better at taking care of herself than me."

"Duly noted. I'll leave you to your own devices then, Miss Kiki." Derek gave the cat an affectionate pat on the head to show his trust in her abilities.

Perched stone gargoyles welcomed them from their postings on each side of the cemetery gates. Jordan shuddered at the sight of the statues. They didn't scare him but their twisted smiles did bring a sense of dread to his belly. Questions of what would happen if he failed in what he was about to do surfaced. Maybe Araminta would be lost forever if he couldn't execute what he needed? Maybe the whole town would be swallowed in a magical sinkhole? Maybe he and Derek would be turned into magical creatures as well?

Derek's hand finding Jordan's shattered the dark intrusions. A black cat headbutting his leg brought the light back in. They were all in this together.

The cemetery swam in the purple light of dusk. It was right between night and day, as the sun was balancing on the horizon. The eerie sheen reminded Jordan of the hem of Araminta's skirt, which had been the last thing he'd seen of her before she disappeared into the magical realm.

The grave of the other Araminta wasn't hard to find. Its smooth surface and carved letters looked the same as last time. But there was no crow perched on the stone on this evening, waiting for him to set it free. Which was odd, since the crow had followed him around for a lot of his search, seemingly always showing up when needed. But did Araminta even know he was there? And did she want to return to the mundane life of a human?

"She's not here," he mumbled, unsure of what to do. "The bird, I mean."

"Maybe she'll come." Derek put his hand on Jordan's shoulder.

Jordan nodded but wasn't fully convinced. "What if we call for her?" he suggested.

"I'm ready when you are."

After having counted down from three, Jordan and Derek called out in tune, probably scaring anyone wandering between the graves at this late hour. "Araminta!" they screamed at the top of their lungs, hoping for a dark bird to come flying in.

But as silence fell again, no crow was to be found. Only darkness and graves surrounded them.

"I thought she'd be here." Jordan sighed in despair, wondering what he'd done wrong.

That's when another black animal placed herself on the gravestone, staring at the faint moon in the distance. In a low melody, Kiki called out into the night, singing a song dedicated to the darkness. It wasn't a sound Jordan had ever heard a cat make before. It sounded like a hymn from another world.

As Kiki's song bounced between the monuments risen to honor the dead, another sound filled the air, making Jordan's heart beat faster. The sound of flapping wings coming closer. The call had worked.

The crow landed atop the standing gravestone, perching itself right above the dedication to Araminta's namesake. In its beak was a white flower, a lily of the valley, which it dropped on the stone below. Jordan peered cautiously at the bird, trying to make sure his visions had been real. Was it Araminta?

When their eyes met, he knew the truth. Because those were the shy eyes, always avoiding meeting his gaze in the hallway, of his classmate and neighbor. When looking into those eyes, Jane's words became true. Jordan instinctively knew what to do. His left hand moved without his brain even consciously processing the information. From his pocket, he pulled out the tarot card. The symbols on it swirled and the illustrated bird flapped its wings. It was alive, just like the crow in front of him.

The world became foggy and distorted. Jordan could almost see her now. Black braids and pale cheeks hinted beyond the veil of magic. As if in a trance, Jordan put the card on the cold stone, right next to the fallen white flower. A rhythmic incantation in a language he didn't speak came from his lips, being transferred by the magic that permeated the air.

The fog intensified, purple smoke pressing in on him. "Derek?" Jordan called out, unable to see or even sense the presence of his companion anymore. "Kiki?"

They weren't there. No one was there anymore. All Jordan could see was thick fog and twirling symbols. Everything was out of focus and odd as if he'd stepped into another world. A fragrance of roses lay in the air. The clear ringing of wind chimes echoed. Temperate winds of spring tintiled exposed skin, making chills rise along Jordan's spine.

Jordan closed his eyes, trying to control his emotions. He shouldn't be scared. This world was unknown but it didn't wasn't unwelcoming. When he had asked Derek to partner with him for his project that had been a plunge into the unknown, and it turned out to be the best thing Jordan had ever done. So he shouldn't fear what he didn't know but rather embrace it. Even as the smell of roses and ringing became overwhelming.

When Jordan opened his eyes again, he saw her. Clear and present, she stood right in front of him. Araminta Green. Dressed in a purple hoop skirt and a black hat, just like the day when she disappeared. Her black braids twirled in the magical winds.

"Come," he said, reaching his good hand toward Aramina. Instinctively, he wanted to pull her with him back to his own world.

She hesitated, staying just out of reach. "I'm free here," she stated.

"You're alone," he countered.

"I was always alone."

"You won't be anymore. I'll be there. I'll be your friend."

Araminta took a step toward him, lingering on the precipice between worlds. "Promise?" she said, her voice almost drowned out by ringing chimes and increasing winds. This world wasn't welcoming anymore. Jordan feared Araminta would be whisked away from him at any moment.

"I promise," he replied, throwing himself into the winds to grab her hand. Together, they fell into a hurricane of whirling symbols. But no matter how strong the force, Jordan wouldn't let go of the hand in his.

He'd found her. He'd found Araminta Green.