Chapter 38: The Elements Between Seconds
Five more years had passed.
That was a strange thing to say about a child whose relationship with time had already become complicated enough to give several scientists, more than a few magicians, time travelers, and at least one cosmic being a headache, but five ordinary years had, in fact, passed. Kairo Fugate Wakati was now ten years old, which he considered a very respectable age. Ten had two numbers in it, which clearly meant he was getting somewhere in life, even if most adults still had the terrible habit of looking down at him.
Literally.
Unfortunately.
Kairo had grown taller over the years, but apparently height had decided to arrive at a leisurely pace. He remained short for his age, something Beryl occasionally reminded him of whenever he became too confident around her. His body had changed considerably otherwise. His arms had gotten stronger from years of climbing, sparring, magical exercises, far too much running, being thrown around by Beryl in increasingly creative ways, and occasionally making very poor decisions involving gravity. His core had become surprisingly solid beneath the softness that had never really left him, leaving him with the slightly strange build of a chubby ten-year-old who looked cuddly until somebody saw him climb a rope using mostly his upper body.
Kairo personally thought this was an excellent arrangement.
Softness was comfortable.
Muscles were useful.
He saw no reason a person could not have both.
His silver hair had grown thicker too, though Madame Xanadu regularly made sure it remained manageable, because left entirely to Kairo, hair maintenance consisted mostly of waking up, touching his head once, deciding everything seemed attached, and moving on with his day. His grey-silver eyes had also become more striking with age, especially when his abilities were active. Sometimes they seemed almost metallic, other times pale enough to catch whatever light was nearby, and when he pushed his temporal senses too far, tiny rings occasionally appeared around his pupils like the face of a clock.
His schedule had changed much more dramatically than he had.
Kairo's weeks were divided into what he privately called his different flavors of suffering.
There were school days, although calling them school days was somewhat unfair. Elias Wakati had never been the sort of grandfather who believed learning should begin and end with a textbook, and after five years of tutors, specialists, magical teachers, private lessons, and the occasional Justice League member deciding Kairo absolutely needed to know something, his education had become ridiculous. Mathematics and science remained some of his stronger subjects, history was fascinating whenever the people teaching it stopped pretending everyone in the past had known what they were doing, and literature was wonderful as long as nobody asked him to write an essay explaining what the curtains symbolized.
Sometimes curtains were curtains.
Kairo would die on that hill.
Then there were Beryl days.
Those had become considerably worse.
Or better.
Depending on whether one asked Beryl or Kairo.
Five years ago, Beryl Hutchinson had been the cheerful British girl who picked him up, called him heavier than he looked, and accidentally became one of the most 'important' people in his life before either of them realized what was happening. Back then, training with her had involved basic movement, balance, coordination, and making sure the little boy with the ability to manipulate time did not become completely dependent on manipulating time.
Nowadays, Beryl believed he had bones and should therefore use them.
Her training had become much more serious as Kairo grew older. Much more of the Running, climbing, swimming, balance work, endurance exercises, hand-to-hand combat, weapons practice, aerial movement, horseback riding whenever Penelope and Nimbus were involved, and a truly unreasonable amount of falling correctly. Beryl remained firmly convinced that learning how to hit the ground without becoming part of it was one of life's most valuable skills.
Penelope Penderghast was involved in most of those lessons now.
That had happened gradually.
First she came occasionally.
Then regularly.
Then Nimbus started coming.
Then Beryl discovered Penelope was competitive.
That had been the beginning of the end.
Nowadays Kairo and Penelope were routinely forced through obstacle courses while Beryl stood somewhere nearby shouting encouragement in the particular British way that somehow made encouragement sound suspiciously like a threat.
Kairo still loved her.
He simply believed love required honesty.
And honestly, Big Sis Beryl was crazy.
Then there were mind days.
Those were quieter but sometimes far more exhausting.
Miss Martian handled most of those lessons, particularly the ones involving telepathic defense, controlled communication, mental architecture, emotional recognition, psychic barriers, and the extremely important skill of politely staying out of other people's heads. Rebecca usually attended those sessions too, because her own abilities had continued developing in ways that made mental discipline increasingly necessary.
Raven joined them sometimes.
Which brought Kairo to today.
Today was magic.
And today Raven was disappointed in him.
Not deeply disappointed.
Not you have failed me and must wander into the mountains until you rediscover honor disappointed.
More the tired disappointment of a teacher who knew her student could do something, knew her student knew he could do it, and was currently watching said student find increasingly sophisticated ways to avoid doing it.
Raven floated a few feet above the floor of Madame Xanadu's training room with her legs crossed beneath her. She had been meditating until several seconds ago, although meditation became increasingly difficult when the child across from her kept making the magical equivalent of the same two sandwiches every day and insisting they were completely different meals.
Her violet eyes slowly opened.
Kairo sat approximately fifteen feet away on a massive block of ice.
The block had begun as a cube.
Then, exactly one hour later, it became a sphere.
Another hour and it became a pyramid.
Another hour and it would become something else.
Kairo had programmed the transformation himself, carefully building the temporal sequence into the magic so that the ice changed shape precisely on schedule. He did not need to consciously maintain every transformation anymore. The spell remembered the timing for him, which Raven privately admitted was impressive.
Above Kairo's head floated several small spheres of lightning.
Every minute, they changed positions.
Every second, their colors shifted.
Blue.
White.
Purple.
Yellow.
Then back through another sequence.
The electrical current moved between them in controlled little branches, occasionally forming shapes before breaking apart again. The entire exercise demonstrated precision, concentration, magical endurance, elemental control, temporal synchronization, and enough technical sophistication that many adult practitioners would have been pleased with themselves.
Raven was still disappointed.
Because it was ice.
And lightning.
Again.
Kairo wiggled comfortably on top of the ice block.
Raven stared at him.
He wiggled again.
Raven continued staring.
Kairo looked at her.
She looked at him.
The lightning continued cheerfully changing colors overhead.
Finally Kairo sighed. "You're doing the face."
Raven's expression did not change. "What face?"
"The disappointed teacher face."
"I have several."
"That's unfortunate."
"For you."
Kairo looked upward at his lightning. "I think this is very good."
"It is."
He looked suspiciously back at her. "But?"
"You know the but."
"I don't like the but."
"Most people don't."
Kairo shifted again on his giant block of ice, which had begun steaming faintly around the edges because he had gotten distracted enough for its temperature to fluctuate. He corrected it with a thought, and frost immediately crawled back across the surface.
Raven watched that happen.
That was exactly the problem.
He was too comfortable.
"Five years," she said.
Kairo blinked. "I've been alive longer than that."
"Five years of magical training."
He made a face. "Oh."
"Five years of Madame Xanadu teaching you elemental relationships, sympathetic magic, ritual structures, spell construction, magical theory, spiritual awareness, dimensional boundaries, magical languages, and several things she refuses to properly name."
"Naming things gives them power," Kairo said, nodding and smiling to himself.
Raven's eyebrow lifted.
Kairo kept smiling. "Aunty M says that."
"I know."
"And you remembered it, which means she's a good teacher."
"She is."
"Therefore I am helping her teachings remain alive."
Raven stared at him.
Kairo stared back.
Somewhere behind them, Madame Xanadu very deliberately continued packing.
Raven could feel the woman's amusement from across the room.
Traitor.
Madame Xanadu had known exactly what she was doing when she asked Raven to supervise today's lesson.
Technically, Raven had been helping with Kairo's education for years now. She was not merely babysitting him, although the distinction sometimes became questionable when Kairo got bored and started experimenting. Raven had watched many children over the years, whether through the Titans, Justice League connections, magical communities, or simply because heroes had an alarming tendency to reproduce and then expect other heroes to help keep the resulting children alive.
Kairo had always been one of the easiest.
He listened.
Eventually.
He respected boundaries.
Usually.
He enjoyed learning.
Constantly.
He did not intentionally summon demons, steal magical artifacts, or ask Raven whether she could turn somebody into a frog.
The standards for magical children were unfortunately strange.
Kairo was actually pleasant to teach.
He was curious without being reckless most of the time, thoughtful enough to understand consequences, and affectionate in a way Raven had learned to accept years ago. The first time they properly met, the little boy had handed her a rose and said something embarrassingly sincere about true love and goth women.
Raven had thanked him. Then patted his head. That had apparently been enough to secure his lifelong approval.
Kairo still liked goth women.
Rebecca had certainly not helped that.
Neither had Raven.
Raven had long since accepted that she was, objectively, very goth.
She was currently wearing clothes that would have destroyed her reputation if certain people ever saw her in them.
Soft black sweatpants.
Thick socks.
A loose dark-purple shirt with sleeves long enough to cover part of her hands.
Her cloak was nowhere in sight.
Her boots were gone.
Her hair was tied loosely behind her head instead of arranged with its usual care.
It was all very Comfortable, Warm and Normal.
The thought of Beast Boy seeing her dressed this way made something cold travel down her spine.
The thought of M'gann seeing her was worse. M'gann would smile. Then say something nice.
Then Raven would somehow end up owning six more comfortable outfits because M'gann would decide Raven "deserved cozy things."
Raven suppressed a shudder.
Kairo noticed. "You okay?"
"Fine."
"You looked scared."
"I wasn't."
"Your heartbeat changed."
Raven slowly looked at him. Kairo immediately pointed toward the lightning. "Magic."
"Of course."
He was smiling. Raven breathed slowly through her nose.
Madame Xanadu, still several rooms away and somehow aware of everything happening in her house anyway, laughed.
Raven decided to ignore both of them.
She floated closer to Kairo until she hovered directly in front of the ice.
"You understand why I am disappointed."
Kairo's smile weakened. "I use other elements."
She nodded at that. "Sometimes."
He stopped making eye contact. "I use wind."
She nodded again. "Sometimes."
"Air." He followed up.
She made another face. "That's more like wind than air."
He rolled his eyes. "You say tomato, I say tomahto; let's call the whole thing off. Depends on the magical system."
Raven paused. Technically true. She hated when he did that.
Kairo continued quickly. "I use water."
"To make ice."
He shrugged. "Still Water deserves goals. And turning it into another state of matter is pretty impressive, if I say so myself."
She ignored his comment. "You use light."
He nodded again. "Lightning glows."
She shook her head. "That does not count. Almost all forms of light glow."
"Seems judgmental."
Raven lowered herself until her feet touched the floor. "Kairo."
He finally stopped.
She watched his expression shift from playful resistance into reluctant attention.
That was another thing he had gotten better at.
Knowing when the joke was finished.
"You can use almost any element placed in front of you," Raven said. "That is unusual. Very unusual. You have spent years learning how different magical traditions understand elements, how those systems overlap, where they disagree, and how to work inside more than one framework."
Kairo nodded.
Raven pointed toward the ice beneath him. "And yet you keep coming back here."
He looked down. "Because I like ice."
"I know."
"And lightning."
"I know."
"They make sense."
Raven smiled slightly as she trapped him once again. "Explain," she said, already knowing what he was going to say but still wanting him to tell her, like the cruel teacher she is.
Kairo frowned slightly, He had explained before, many, many times before, to both her and Aunty M.
But Raven's tone told him she wanted the real answer this time, for him to explain himself once again.
He rested both hands against the ice. "Cold is slow."
Raven waited.
Kairo's fingers moved across the frozen surface. "Not completely. I know. Cold isn't actually slowness. It's lower thermal energy and less molecular movement and all that stuff. But magically, it feels slow. When I'm using time to slow something down, ice listens really easily."
He lifted one hand.
A thin strand of frost crawled around his fingers.
"If water is moving and I slow its movement, cold feels close. If something is hot and I stretch out how fast it loses heat, I can control where the energy goes. If I slow molecular motion enough, freezing is almost sitting there waiting for me."
Raven nodded.
That was precisely what Madame Xanadu had discovered years ago during those first elemental lessons. Kairo had struggled with Earth because it felt too broad and patient, distrusted Fire because its hunger responded dangerously to acceleration, and found himself unusually comfortable around processes whose change could be understood through rate and timing.
"And lightning?" Raven asked.
Kairo looked upward. One of the electrical spheres descended. It hovered above his palm. "Fast."
The word came with a smile. "Really fast."
Electricity crackled gently between his fingers.
"Lightning already wants something to happen now. When I speed myself up, it feels natural to use it with lightning. When I compress the timing between the start of a discharge and where I want it to end, I don't have to fight it as much."
The lightning jumped between two fingers.
"Electricity is movement. Charge. Transfer. Lightning is all of that happening violently fast. Time magic lets me choose when."
Raven watched him carefully.
Kairo became more animated as he continued.
"I can time-lock the discharge so it doesn't jump somewhere I don't want. I can synchronize different currents. I can change the timing between pulses so they behave like one bigger attack without actually being one. I can speed up how quickly the charge moves through a magical path."
He looked back at Raven. "So ice likes me when I go slow."
Another sphere of lightning descended beside the first. "And lightning likes me when I go fast."
Raven nodded. "Good."
Kairo smiled. "Thank you."
"Now stop hiding behind them."
His smile died. "Aw."
Raven almost smiled herself.
Almost.
"You found two elements that naturally cooperate with your strongest magical instincts. That is useful. It is also becoming a crutch."
Kairo's brows pulled together. "I don't think they're a crutch."
"You are sitting on your crutch."
He looked down at the giant block of ice. "That's fair."
"And wearing several above your head."
Kairo looked at the lightning. "Okay, that one was unnecessary."
"It was accurate."
From somewhere deeper inside her impossible home, Madame Xanadu called, "She is correct."
Kairo twisted around. "You're supposed to be packing!"
"I can pack and be correct simultaneously."
"Mind your business!"
"This is my house."
Kairo slowly turned back around.
Raven was smiling now. Barely, But smiling.
"You're enjoying this."
"A little."
"That's messed up."
"Probably."
Kairo sighed and crossed his arms.
Around his neck, Aurielis warmed. Oh, sweetheart. This is beautiful.
Kairo ignored her.
Five years of magical education. Private lessons from legends. Access to more magical traditions than most people encounter in a lifetime. Reincarnated soul. Temporal prodigy. And what does my precious little clock boy do?
Kairo's eyes narrowed.
Ice cube. Zap zap. Ice cube. Zap zap.
He ignored her harder.
Aurielis laughed.
You are magical chicken nuggets. You found two things you like and refuse to order anything else.
Kairo reached up.
Raven saw his hand moving toward the golden watch hanging from his neck.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Kairo."
He unclasped Aurielis.
Don't you dare.
He looked Raven directly in the eyes. Then put the entire golden watch into his mouth. Raven stared. The room became silent.
Aurielis screamed directly into his mind. YOU DISRESPECTFUL LITTLE GREMLIN!
Kairo nodded solemnly at Raven. Raven's mouth opened. Closed. She looked toward the hallway.
Madame Xanadu had appeared in the doorway. The immortal fortune-teller looked at Kairo. Then at the chain hanging from the corner of his mouth. Then back at Kairo. Madame Xanadu turned around and walked away. Her shoulders moved once. She was laughing.
Kairo pointed after her triumphantly. Raven covered her mouth with one hand. "You cannot solve disagreements by eating your familiar."
Kairo removed Aurielis just long enough to answer. "She's a watch."
I AM A LADY.
Back in the mouth. Raven closed her eyes. This was why nobody should ever describe magical children as easy.
Eventually Kairo took Aurielis out and returned her to his neck. The watch was deeply offended. Kairo felt no regret.
Raven held out both hands. "Come here."
Kairo looked at them. "Why?"
"Because we're going to do something different."
He immediately became suspicious. Raven waited. Kairo slid from the ice block and walked over. He placed his hands into hers. Raven's fingers closed gently around them. The contact changed the room. Kairo felt her first. Not her skin.
Her.
The deeper presence beneath the body.
Raven's mind was one of the most controlled things he had ever touched. There was emotion everywhere inside her, vast enough that a less disciplined person might have drowned in it, but she had spent most of her life learning how to hold that ocean without letting every wave become a disaster.
"Focus," Raven said.
Kairo nodded.
"Your ice."
The block behind him trembled.
"Break the pattern."
He frowned. "Into what?"
"Anything except ice."
"That's broad."
"Good."
Raven closed her eyes. Kairo followed. The world became quieter. Their breathing synchronized. His temporal sense opened. The ice behind him stopped feeling like an object.
It became process. Water held inside a particular state. Heat removed. Structure formed and Movement reduced. Potential waiting beneath stillness.
Kairo reached toward that process. His first instinct was to maintain the cold.
Raven felt it. "No."
He stopped.
"Don't preserve what is comfortable."
Kairo breathed. He let the ice change. The massive block cracked. Water spilled from one side, but before it could reach the floor, it rose.
Raven's magic caught nothing.
This was his. Kairo pushed.
The water separated. One portion became mist.
Another thickened strangely as minerals pulled from the enchanted training room gathered through it.
The last section remained liquid. Kairo's forehead tightened.
"Three," Raven said quietly.
"Working on it."
"Not counting water."
"That's rude."
"Kairo."
"Fine." He reached deeper.
The mist became wind.
Not merely air moving from pressure. Magic entered it. A rotating current formed around them.
The mineral-heavy section hardened.
Into true Stone, it was Crude, Ugly But still vey much Earth.
The final portion of water began glowing.
Kairo hesitated.
Fire. He hated Fire. The memory of his first serious lesson returned immediately.
Tiny flames multiplying then Growing arms and Trying to eat him.
Fire had never forgotten him either. He could feel that whenever he summoned it. It was Waiting and so very Hungry.
Raven squeezed his hands. "Don't accelerate it."
Kairo breathed. "Regulate."
A tiny flame appeared above the water. It flickered. Kairo's shoulders tensed.
"Steady," Raven whispered.
He listened and The flame remained. Wind circled them. Stone floated beside it. Water hung between them.
The remains of the original ice block had become something completely different.
Kairo opened his eyes. "Ha."
Raven opened hers. "Good."
"Ha!"
"Don't lose focus."
"Sorry."
Above them, the lightning spheres remained.
Raven looked up. "Now those."
Kairo groaned. "Why can't we celebrate anything?"
"Later."
He focused. Lightning was harder and Not because he lacked control but Because he liked it.
Turning it into something else felt like being asked to deliberately ruin dessert. The spheres trembled. One collapsed into ordinary light. Another spread outward and became a moving current of air.
The third darkened, condensed, and fell toward his hand.
Metal. A smooth, small silver bead formed in his palm. Kairo stared at it.
Raven did too. "Interesting."
Kairo smiled. "Very."
Then something happened between them. Their joined hands made the mental connection deeper.
Kairo felt Raven and Raven felt Kairo.
And because neither one pulled away, the bond opened. Memories moved.
Kairo saw Titans Tower. Not from photographs. From Raven.
He saw hallways filled with voices.
Training rooms. Arguments with Friends.
Laughter she pretended annoyed her more than it actually did.
Beast Boy being Beast Boy. Moments with hero teams.
Quiet nights spent reading while chaos happened somewhere outside her room.
He saw years of people gradually becoming family without asking permission first. Then the memories shifted.
The Penderghast mansion and Kairo almost laughed.
The Penderghasts were... . . .A lot.
There was no better way to say it.
Raven had spent a surprising amount of time there over the last several years, helping Penelope and the rest of her family understand their inherited familiar magic. It had become one of those responsibilities that started as a magical emergency and somehow became a permanent place on her schedule.
Priscilla Penderghast had bonded with a fluffy magical cat and accepted this as proof that the universe occasionally possessed excellent taste.
Preston had been considerably more troublesome.
The boy had spent years attempting to awaken his familiar bond and somehow responded by connecting with animal after animal after animal.
Dogs, Cats, Birds, Lizards and More.
Kairo caught a memory of Raven standing in the Penderghast backyard while Preston introduced yet another animal.
Raven's expression in the memory was completely empty.
This is Gerald.
You already have a Gerald.
That's Gerald Junior.
Kairo nearly lost concentration.
Raven felt his amusement. "Don't."
"Sorry."
He saw Penelope and then Nimbus.
The giant winged horse had remained her familiar, her partner, and one of the most expensive gardening disasters in Gotham County.
Penelope had never wanted another.
She had gotten her miracle at seven years old. Apparently that was enough.
Kairo caught flashes of Ace too.
The birthday wish. The zoo.
The strange chain of magical events that had brought Nimbus into Penelope's life.
He saw Raven's complicated affection for the whole Penderghast family. They exhausted her, and they confused her even more. Their relationship with money occasionally offended basic morality.
But they were good people. Most of the time, Loudly good mixed with a healthy dose of Messily good and Exhaustingly good, but still Raven cared about them.
Kairo felt that clearly. Then the memories deepened.
A presence appeared. One so Dark, enormous, and Red. Kairo's instincts immediately pulled his attention toward it. Trigon. He saw only pieces.
A father who was less a parent than an approaching apocalypse, and A shadow over Raven's existence.
A cosmic evil that had shaped much of her life before she had been old enough to understand what inheritance meant.
Then Kairo noticed the gem. The red jewel set into Raven's forehead. Something existed inside it. Not all of Trigon. Not exactly. But presence. A Connection and a Life.
Kairo's temporal sight sharpened.
He looked.
For one strange moment, he could feel the ancient continuity running through Raven's blood, magic, soul, and the sealed connection resting within the gem.
Something looked back.
Trigon did not become angry. Anger required concern.
The presence simply noticed a child peeking through a doorway.
Then Kairo felt something enormous press one finger against his awareness.
His sight was pushed away.
Not violently but Dismissively. Like an adult moving a curious cat away from a plate.
Kairo blinked. "Rude."
Raven's eyes opened. "My father?"
"Yeah."
"That sounds like him."
"He pushed me."
"Yes, You were looking at him."
"I look at lots of things."
"Most things aren't Trigon."
Kairo considered that. "Fair."
Raven did not seem offended. She had allowed Kairo into those memories. Their connection worked both ways.
Raven saw him. A little boy asleep in a crib while every clock in the universe stopped.
Elias holding him. Beryl carrying him.
Madame Xanadu placing a golden watch before him while he immediately tried to eat it.
Then Rebecca, Penelope, Abraham Langstrom, Ace and Death.
The mansion. The clock tower.
The strange invisible currents of time Kairo had spent his entire life learning to recognize.
Then Raven saw something deeper.
The soul. Kairo's body was ten. His soul was not.
It carried impressions from somewhere else. Another existence, another world, and another life.
Reincarnation was not completely unheard of. Raven had encountered stranger things. Souls could return. Souls could divide. Souls could be reborn through magic, cosmic design, karma, divine interference, curses, accidents, and mechanisms so old that even people like Madame Xanadu occasionally admitted they did not understand them.
But Kairo's reincarnation remained unusual.
Clean in some places but so Messy in others.
Information had crossed with him along with instincts, Preferences, knowledge, and Bits of personality.
Not enough to turn him into an adult pretending to be a child.
Kairo was Kairo.
But there were old fingerprints on the soul.
Raven had once explained that to him.
"Some souls have traveled more than once," she had said. "Some carry almost nothing forward. Some carry impressions. Skills. Dreams. Fear. Recognition."
Kairo had naturally asked who else had reincarnated.
Raven had made the mistake of giving examples.
Batman had fascinated him.
Bruce Wayne's soul had returned more than once across the long history of existence, depending on how one understood the strange magical records surrounding him. That itself was rare, although in Gotham, Raven had learned to stop expecting normal answers where Batman was concerned.
Kairo's reincarnation felt different. But it was real.
Raven watched those older impressions drifting around the ten-year-old boy standing in front of her. Then she saw herself. That surprised her.
Memories of Raven existed inside Kairo now.
Not stolen. Not copied. His.
The first rose, then the head pat.
Lessons.
Meditation.
Her correcting him.
Him annoying her.
Quiet afternoons.
Magic.
The gradual, unspoken transition from Raven, mysterious goth woman to Raven, teacher and family friend and someone Kairo trusted enough to put his hands into hers without fear.
Raven's expression softened.
Kairo noticed. "You okay?"
"Focus."
He shook his head. "That's your answer to everything."
"Because you keep getting distracted."
"By your emotions."
"Exactly."
He smiled.
Then Raven felt something strange inside Kairo's mind.
A bubble. A very deliberate psychic bubble. Something golden was trapped inside.
THIS IS TYRANNY!
Raven's eyes narrowed. "Kairo."
He immediately looked innocent. "What?"
"Did you trap Aurielis in a mental bubble?"
He looked away. "No."
LIAR!
Kairo strengthened the bubble.
Aurielis's voice became muffled.
YOU LITTLE... MMMMMPH!
Raven stared at him. Kairo stared back. "She was distracting me."
"You put her in your mouth earlier."
He rolled his eyes at that, "She survived."
"That is not the point."
"She talks a lot."
Raven's lips twitched.
Kairo saw it. "You agree."
"I said nothing."
"You thought it."
"You are currently inside my mind."
"Exactly."
Raven sighed. "Let her out."
"After the exercise."
"Kairo." "Five minutes."
Raven considered him.
Then, to Aurielis's absolute betrayal, Raven said, "Five minutes."
The muffled outrage inside Kairo's head became tremendous.
Their focus returned. Returning to the elements: Wind, Water, Earth, and Fire.
Then they kept going into Light and Metal.
The elements moved around them.
Kairo stopped thinking of them as separate tricks and started feeling their relationships again.
That was what Madame Xanadu had tried to teach him years ago.
Magic did not exist as little labeled boxes waiting for someone to choose a favorite. Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water had been some of his earliest lessons in understanding change as relationship rather than substance. The point had never been memorizing categories. The point had been understanding how one state encouraged another, restrained another, became another, or destroyed another when pushed too far.
Time existed inside those relationships.
Inside Rate, Sequence, Duration, and then at last a Change.
Kairo finally understood what Raven had been pushing him toward.
Ice and lightning were easy because he already knew where time fit inside them. But the others required him to listen first.
The little flame stopped trembling. The stone became smoother. Water formed a ring. Wind moved through it. Light bent around the entire structure. The metal bead split into several smaller pieces and joined the pattern.
Raven smiled. "Better."
Kairo smiled back. "Can I keep my ice?"
"Yes."
"Lightning?"
"Yes."
His smile became enormous.
"But."
He groaned.
"You will practice everything else."
"How often?"
"Frequently."
"Define frequently."
"No."
"That's evil."
"I learned well from my father."
Kairo stared.
Raven's expression remained perfectly flat.
Then Kairo laughed. Actually laughed.
Raven's mouth curved slightly too.
Behind them, Madame Xanadu stood in the doorway. She had stopped packing several minutes ago.
She watched Raven guide Kairo through the spell, watched the boy correct himself when Fire became too hungry, watched Raven adjust his grip without breaking his concentration, and watched the elemental pattern stabilize.
A small, satisfied smile appeared. Raven had become a good teacher. Madame Xanadu had known she would. That was partly why she had arranged today this way.
Some lessons were for students. Others were quietly for teachers. She left them alone and returned to her packing.
Not that Madame Xanadu truly needed luggage.
Her home had doors that could open into places no reasonable architect would approve of. She owned containers larger inside than outside, enchanted cases, hidden rooms, pocket dimensions, and enough magical methods of transportation that packing should have been beneath her.
Unfortunately, wanting something available immediately and knowing one could retrieve it through magic were two different forms of convenience.
She stood before an open case. A dress floated toward it. Madame Xanadu considered the dress. "No."
It floated away. Another appeared. She frowned. "No."
A third. "Perhaps."
It folded itself neatly. Then a small black rectangle on the table began vibrating. Madame Xanadu stared at it. The object continued buzzing. She disliked phones. She understood them.
People had once needed to cross mountains, send messengers, invoke spirits, or at least write a respectable letter if they wished to bother someone from far away.
Now they pressed a screen. Civilization had made several questionable choices. The phone buzzed again.
Madame Xanadu picked it up. Two messages waited.
The first name immediately made her smile.
Zatanna Zatara.
She opened it.
Vegas. Usual old hotel. A few days if you can. Something weird is happening and John is pretending it isn't weird, which obviously means it's very weird.
Madame Xanadu's smile widened.
Zatanna had always understood how to make an invitation sound appealing.
Then she saw the second name.
John Constantine.
Her smile vanished.
She opened it.
Need you in Vegas. Same hotel. Don't listen to Zee, it's probably nothing.
Madame Xanadu stared at the message. Of course and then She typed slowly.
If it were nothing, you would not have contacted me.
The typing bubble appeared almost immediately. Then vanished. Appeared. Vanished.
Madame Xanadu waited. Finally:
That's hurtful.
She rolled her eyes.
Another message appeared.
Bring cards.
She frowned.
Then another.
The serious ones.
Her expression changed. Only slightly. That was different.
Behind her, from the training room, Kairo shouted, "RAVEN, THE FIRE IS LOOKING AT ME AGAIN!"
Raven answered, perfectly calm, "Stop looking back."
"I THINK IT KNOWS I DON'T LIKE IT!"
"Fire does not care."
"THIS ONE DOES!"
Madame Xanadu closed her eyes. A crash followed, but Nothing screamed.
Good enough. She looked down at her phone again.
Zatanna had sent another message.
And before you ask, yes, the hotel knows we're coming. No, John isn't allowed near the minibar this time.
John immediately sent: Oppression.
Madame Xanadu's eyebrows rose. Apparently the universe was fond of repeating jokes.
She glanced toward the training room.
Five years ago, Kairo had sat on the floor complaining that magical containment was oppression while she floated him through the house in a glowing cube. Now he was ten, stronger, smarter, more dangerous, considerably better trained, and still completely capable of accusing his teachers of tyranny whenever they inconvenienced him.
Some things changed but Some things remained stubbornly themselves. Madame Xanadu looked at the half-packed case.
Then at Zatanna's message. Then Constantine's.
Las Vegas.
The usual old hotel. Bring the serious cards.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone. That last request stayed with her. John Constantine joked when things were dangerous. He complained when things were terrible.
When he specifically asked her to bring tools he knew she reserved for matters beyond ordinary magical trouble, it usually meant something had already gone wrong and he was attempting to decide exactly how wrong before admitting it aloud.
Madame Xanadu typed one final message. I will come.
Zatanna replied almost immediately with a heart.
John replied with: Lovely.
Then, several seconds later: Don't bring the kid.
Madame Xanadu stared at those four words. Her eyes narrowed.
From the training room came another loud crack.
Then Kairo's delighted voice. "I MADE EARTH!"
Raven responded, "You made a rock."
"THAT'S EARTH!"
"Technically."
"THANK YOU!"
Madame Xanadu slowly looked toward the doorway. The phone buzzed again and she rolled her eyes.
Constantine. Seriously, Xanadu.
Madame Xanadu's expression became thoughtful.
Then suspicious. Very suspicious.
She typed nothing this time. Instead, she slipped the phone into her pocket and looked back at her luggage.
For reasons she could not yet explain, she suddenly felt considerably less interested in leaving Kairo behind.
And when Madame Xanadu had a feeling like that, she had learned a very long time ago to listen. Outside the impossible walls of her home, clocks continued ticking.
Inside the training room, a ten-year-old boy laughed as he turned ice into water, water into mist, and lightning into light.
Far away in Las Vegas, something old waited inside an old hotel.
And somewhere between one second and the next, something noticed that Kairo Wakati was no longer five years old. It had been waiting for him to grow.