Page 75 of Two Who Live On

“You’re not listening,” Milo whispered, entirely asleep.

I brushed his curly bangs off his forehead, soothing, gentle, and hopeful it gave him some comfort. He rarely talked in his sleep, but when at the peak of stress, he’d ramble incoherent conversations. I’d noticed it more frequently since the demons arrived in Chicago, shattering his protective hold over the city. Unable to rest and with a fidgety, anxious Milo cuddled beside me, I delved into his thoughts, hoping to alleviate the panic consuming him.

“I don’t know how else to spell it out to you. This is not going to be resolved by a single guild.” Milo stood in his office, tossing files onto his desk. Each one held detailed intel about the recently poached enchanters all signed to enlist at Cerberus Guild. This memory was fresh and haunting Milo. The usually bright and colorful walls of his office were painted black with grim portraits of blood, carnage, and death—a clear sign he’d warped this memory due to heightened fear.

“You said you needed the strength of enchanters from these guilds, so I made them an offer they couldn’t resist.” Or refuse, based on the smug smile plastered across Enchanter Campbell’s face as she stood across from Milo. It was difficult to discern if Campbell was actually this arrogant or if Milo replaced her expression with something more fitting to how he felt in the moment. “With them, we’ll rise even further, remaining the strongest guild in the state and the most reliable to our citizens.”

“It’s not about strength. It’s not about the magics.” Milo’s frustration created flickering in the lights. “It’s about collaboration.”

“That ship sailed the second you shined a spotlight on Whitlock Industries,” Enchanter Campbell said. “There’s too much fear for collaboration. Where will the credit fall? Who will land the funding? Will this lead to another corrupt monopoly?”

Milo glowered.

“Look, you wanted my help. This is what I brought you. If you can’t find a solution with ten additional enchanters, some of the damn best might I add, then you’re the one failing this city, not me.”

“Let me put it in a way you’ll understandEnchanterCampbell.” The walls of Milo’s office quaked. “If you can’t find a way to get the other guild masters to work together, you’ll never call yourself Guild Master Campbell, and you’ll never sit on that board you’ve been clamoring for.”

Campbell’s jaw clenched like she’d bit back every word she wanted to say, every question she wanted to press.

“Oooh,” Milo’s voice called from another direction. Not the Milo of this memory but the actual consciousness of Milo.

The fuck?

I quirked a brow, following the small echo. He should very much be asleep. No, hewasvery much asleep. What was going on?

“This one’s funny but completely unnecessary.”

I stepped away from the nightmare on the surface of Milo’s slumbering mind and deeper into his mind’s core, which was a vast black space, infinitely wide. The towering wall of screens projecting potential vision stood too tall for me to see an ending. Given my inability to view his magic, the screens showed only fuzzy static.

“Hmm. Nope. Gotta go.”

I squeezed between the tight space of the screens, having just enough room to wiggle further through Milo’s core. Our link createda succinct connection, and I recalled a secondary location where Milo sorted his visions.

All the darkness disappeared once I reached the white board of interconnected strings. An array of colors filling the entire spectrum weaved along the board like a maze. Fates interlocking, converging, and separating in endless mysteries I would never understand. Milo wasn’t here either.

“Milo?” I called out because I didn’t want him thinking I’d invaded his privacy even if I had—with the best intentions, of course.

“Don’t need. Don’t need. Keep. Keep. Maybe pile. No. Yes. Maybe.” Milo’s voice echoed beyond the wall of colorful fates. “No idea what to do with this one just yet.”

I stepped close, searching for a way around but this room was a circle all leading back to the screens I’d come from. I touched a white part, careful not to hit the strings representing futures, and searched for…I had no clue. A secret button? A knob?

“Milo?”

“Dorian?” Milo’s voice called back from behind the wall. “What’re you doing here?”

“You were sleep talking, and I wanted to help.” I sighed. “Okay, I wanted to obsessively assist because I lack boundariessometimes.”

“Love it.” Milo’s arms reached out at me from seemingly nowhere, and he dragged me into the wall.

I yelped, bracing to hit the wall. I didn’t, though. Instead, I phased right through it.

Behind his endless screens of visions and his massive board of strings of fate was quite possibly the most outlandish area thus far. A simple, boring filing room with beige wallpaper and a smell that screamed office musk. The filing cabinets stretched forever.

“What is this place?”

“My deepest core. Sort of a place to organize outdated visions.”

“Outdated?”

---