"Guardian incoming," Elizabeth's ghost told her.

Elizabeth thought, "Thanks," and continued pouring a cup of tea for a customer as if this revelation hadn't rattled her. It was a busy afternoon in the little tea shop, and every table was taken by patrons. The shop was located in the Core District of the Last City, on a busy street through downtown. Lots of people were leaving work and picking up a snack before heading home.

Coffee was expensive in the Last City, grown only in one specially-designed hothouse. But tea, especially the herbal varieties, was easier to come by. Elizabeth had a deal with several hunters who regularly supplied her with the herbs and spices she mixed herself.

Her adopted daughter, Grace, worked at the register, transmatting glimmer payments to the shop's accounts, joking with customers, and bidding them welcome and good day. Elizabeth worked at the boilers, pouring tea and brewing more of the flavors that threatened to run low. Peppermint was popular today, for some reason.

But a Guardian was about to pay a visit, and that meant trouble. Elizabeth murmured to Grace, "Watch the register a moment." Grace nodded. Elizabeth hurried through the back room of the shop and out into the rear yard.

This was a shabby little area surrounded by a high wooden fence, concealing old crates, a rubbish bin, rusted boilers, and chairs with broken legs. A particular broken crate in the yard's corner served as a handle for a trapdoor.

This trapdoor was designed to look like part of the ground, just one more piece of junk. But below it was a set of steep stairs descending into darkness. Elizabeth galloped down them and let the trapdoor close behind her. Then she stood in the darkness on the steps, panting.

Her ghost materialized in a swirl of blue particles. She was a small ghost in a basic shell painted white with blue patterns, like a teacup. She ignited her headlight, illuminating the secret basement beneath the shop. Everywhere were cases of dried food, tanks of water, stacks of paper supplies, cedar chests full of clothing and blankets, and much else besides. The ghost glanced around to make sure everything was in its place.

Elizabeth followed the ghost's headlight-gaze. "All's quiet, Summer."

The ghost said, "The guardian just reached the front door. Looks like he's coming in."

"What discipline?"

"Titan."

Elizabeth stiffened imperceptibly.

Summer gave her an anxious look. "Not all Titans are violent, Liz."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together and shook her head.

Summer said nothing for a long moment. Then she announced, "He's leaving."

"Did his ghost notice you?"

"No. I kept my tag masked."

"That's my girl." Elizabeth patted Summer's shell. "Out of sight, now, unless another Guardian shows up."

The ghost switched off her light and obediently disappeared, phasing her particles into the pocket of Elizabeth's apron. Elizabeth pushed the trapdoor open with the superhuman strength native to the Traveler's Chosen, closed it softly behind her, and slipped back into the shop to continue working.

Grace glanced up as Elizabeth entered. Her skin was as dark as Elizabeth's was fair, her hair arranged in elaborate braids. She gave Elizabeth a concerned look.

Elizabeth nodded and shrugged. I'm fine.

"He was nice," Grace said in an undertone.

"Good," Elizabeth muttered. "Don't need their kind wrecking the place."

Elizabeth was on edge the rest of the afternoon. If one Guardian had found this place, he'd bring others. The immortal warriors were like ants, always congregating where you least wanted them. Could she serve guardians, herself? She'd avoided interacting with any of them for years, not since she had turned in her weapons and armor and left Tower North, almost a century ago, now.

Don't be a coward, she scolded herself. You can't leave Grace to face them alone. She's not a Lightbearer. You are. Suck it up.

The afternoon wore into evening and business slowed as the dinner establishments opened. Elizabeth and Grace closed at seven and performed their evening ritual of locking up, stacking chairs, sweeping the floor, and washing dishes.

Then they climbed the stairs to the living quarters above the shop, divided into two apartments for the two women. Grace's room was filled with colorful paintings from local artists, all sunsets, flowers, and impressionistic people in bright clothes. Her bed was covered with a quilt in yellow and purple patterns.

Elizabeth's room, by contrast, was stark and colorless. The walls were white. The bedspread was white. The rug was a dull gray. Everything was clean and severely tidy. The only unusual object in the room was a tiny basket with a soft woolen blanket in it - Summer's nest.

The ghost materialized with an electronic trill of relief and flew around the room. "Free at last! Can we watch another episode of Love and Lead tonight?"

"Sure," Elizabeth said with a smile. Her ghost adored sappy TV shows. They usually put Elizabeth to sleep.

Grace poked her head in as Elizabeth unpinned her pale blond hair and brushed it. "We made enough today that I could order takeout. You want Mandarin?"

"Sounds good," Elizabeth said, brushing her long hair vigorously.

Grace leaned against the doorframe and watched her, and the ghost flying around the room. "Mom ... why are you scared of guardians when you're one, too?"

"I'm not scared," Elizabeth replied without looking at her. When Grace said nothing, Elizabeth added, "And I haven't been a Guardian in ninety-six years. Just a Lightbearer." She smiled at Grace. "I had to raise you, didn't I?"

"Mom, I'm thirty," Grace said. "Not ninety-six. It was a long time ago."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Doesn't seem that long to me."

Neither of them mentioned the event that had driven Elizabeth from the Vanguard, even though it hung in the room like an invisible elephant. Summer stopped circling and parked herself over her partner's left shoulder. "Why are we talking about this?" she chirped. "We have the whole evening ahead of us. Let's eat and watch TV."

"Since when do you eat?" Elizabeth said, bumping the side of her head into the ghost's shell.

Summer rotated the halves of her shell. "You know I meant you. Let's only talk about happy things."

"Yes, let's," Elizabeth agreed, glancing at Grace.

Grace rolled her eyes. "All right. Let me order the grub. We going out to eat or staying here?"

"Out," Elizabeth said. "I need fresh air."

As Grace worked, Elizabeth flopped on her bed and opened the new issue of Survival Monthly. "Oryx is dead, but the Darkness is not," the headline article said. "Ten easy steps to prepare for its return."

Elizabeth had only reached step three ("Do you have a bug-out plan?") when Grace called, "All ready. Let's go."

Grace had put on a bright orange dress that set off her dark skin. Elizabeth wore the same blouse and slacks she'd worn all day - changing clothes all the time was frivolous and made more laundry.

Grace glanced at the magazine. "Don't you already know all that?"

"Never hurts to remind myself of the basics," Elizabeth replied. "The basement still isn't as well stocked as I'd like. You never know when the next enemy will attack, or a new Faction War will kick off. Remember how bad it was when Osiris left."

"It wasn't a war," Grace replied. "Just a lot of disappointed people."

"Yes, well." Elizabeth motioned to her ghost, who disappeared. "Let's eat."

The Mandarin restaurant was only slightly larger than the tea shop. Tables and chairs were crammed into the tiny floor space and overflowed into the street outside. The air smelled of frying onions, ginger, and sweet and sour sauce. Elizabeth's stomach rumbled.

They secured the last free table outside on the sidewalk. It had three chairs, so she and Grace could expect to eat with another person. Elizabeth liked people and looked forward to a chat with someone interesting. Grace held the table while Elizabeth squeezed inside to pick up their meals, and returned bearing two steaming plates heaped with chicken teriyaki and yeast-based chow mein.

They sat and dug into their meals, not talking much, just watching the bustling crowd. People came and went, carrying food. Sparrows flew up and left again. Conventional vehicles swarmed the road in orderly chaos. Blue streetlights flickered on. Lights appeared in the windows of the skyscrapers around them. Far overhead, the Traveler caught the sun's rosy glow. In the back of her mind, Elizabeth sensed her ghost humming to herself, enjoying the venue.

A broad-shouldered, burly man inched sideways into the restaurant, apologizing to people as he bumped them aside. After a few minutes, he returned, carrying a vast plate heaped with meat and noodles. He stood a moment, looking helplessly around at the crowded tables. Then he spied the empty chair at their table. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, giving them a pleading look.

Elizabeth pushed the chair out with her foot. "Go ahead."

The man sat down with evident relief. "Thanks. I'm Durn."

"I'm Elizabeth, and this is Grace," she said, smiling.

Durn dug into his meal, and the three ate in silence for a while. Elizabeth studied their visitor and his clothes, trying to guess his profession. He was tall and broad, the biceps bulging in his upper arms. But he wore a simple tunic, tucked into a second-hand pair of pants. A laborer, perhaps. His skin was an odd color, almost sickly gray, with faint streaks across his cheeks. Elizabeth puzzled over this until he looked up and his eyes glowed orange for a second in the low evening light. Ah, he was half-Awoken. The result of unions between humans and the paracausal Awoken, half-bloods had a hard time fitting in with either race. They weren't allowed into the Reef at all, by order of the Queen.

He covertly studied them, too, his eyes flashing orange as he looked up. After a while, he said, "What brings you ladies out on the town?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Dinner mostly. Have any plans for later?"

"I was thinking of trying the club scene," he replied, a grin breaking across his face. "I've been learning a couple of new dances I've been wanting to try on the club floor. Either of you want to come?"

"Maybe on the weekend," Elizabeth demurred. Grace had opened her mouth to eagerly accept, and closed it again, looking disappointed.

Durn looked disappointed, too. "I forgot that it's only Wednesday. My weekends are mixed up right now."

Elizabeth laced her fingers and leaned her chin on them. "Ooo, do you mind if I guess what you do?"

His grin returned, wide and white in his oddly-colored face. "Guess away."

"You're well-built," Elizabeth said, glad for an excuse to let her eyes roam his muscular shoulders and arms. "Your hands are callused. But your clothes are common, tough stuff, not too expensive. So ... you work outdoors."

His grin widened. "Right so far. So, it's my turn to guess. You lovely ladies are sophisticated and well-dressed. I'd say ... you work in that office building over there." He nodded up the street at the nearest skyscraper.

"Nope!" Grace crowed. "Not even close."

Durn studied them again, rubbing his chin.

"My turn," Elizabeth said. "You're a burly guy, but your speech shows you've had education. You're a contractor."

He laughed - a loud, booming laugh. "Your turn to be wrong!"

Elizabeth smiled, her mind already racing. He worked outdoors, but not building things.

"Oh," Grace said suddenly. "I know. But I won't tell." She winked at Durn.

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Now I know where I've seen you! The tea shop!" He turned to Elizabeth. "You must be the manager. At a guess, your name is Elizabeth? Since it's Lizzy's Teas."

He was smarter than she'd given him credit for. Her cheeks warmed. "My, you figured that out fast."

"My job ensures I think on my feet," he said. "Any more guesses?"

"Engineer," Elizabeth said. When Durn shook his head, she added, "Pipe fitter? Construction? Automotive? The foundries?"

"Don't I wish," he said, the orange glow in his eyes dancing with fun. "All wrong."

"Then I give up," Elizabeth said.

"You sure?" Durn said. "All right, then. Here's a big, fat hint." He held out one hand, palm upward. A Ghost flashed into being in a swirl of particles.

Guardian.

Elizabeth's heart lurched and began trying to pound its way out of her chest. Her whole body flashed hot, then icy cold. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, could only stare at that diamond-shaped eye fixed on her. She half-expected to feel hands close around her throat, feel her body slammed against a wall over and over, her ribs cracking. Incoherent bellowing in her face. Helpless, terrified, strangling and dying. And over his shoulder, that implacable diamond-shaped eye watched and did nothing.

Durn was saying something else, unaware of the sudden change that had come over Elizabeth. Grace was covering for her, leaning forward, talking with a smile.

Elizabeth didn't remember leaving the table. Suddenly she was running up the street, Light powers boosting her strength, fleeing at highway speeds. It didn't matter that Durn had been perfectly friendly, didn't matter that he hadn't threatened her. He was a Guardian. That was enough.

She jumped the fence behind the tea shop, wrenched open the trapdoor, and clattered down the stairs into darkness. She knew the layout by heart, and even unable to see, went straight to the farthest room and curled up in a chair there.

"Light?" Summer asked quietly.

"No," Elizabeth whispered.

She sat there in the dark, hugging her knees, hiding like a rabbit in its warren. Almost she felt like she had escaped being murdered again. Durn wasn't Sheltiel. But her mind blurred the line between the two. Guardian meant bad. Guardian meant run. Guardian meant a violent, rage-fueled death.

After a long time, her quick breathing and rapid heartbeat began to slow. Nobody but Grace knew about this bunker. The shielding tiles in the ceiling kept it insulated from all electronic signals, including ghost scans. A Guardian could stand directly above her and never detect her or her ghost. Safe. She was safe.

"Why didn't his ghost stop him?" she whispered.

Summer's voice replied softly in her mind. "He did try, love. We both did. But we're only ghosts. We can't stop a Guardian on a rampage. I've told you before ... I'm so sorry. I failed you that day."

Elizabeth held out a hand. Summer appeared above her palm, her shell angled around her eye in an expression of sadness.

"I wish it never happened," Elizabeth whispered. "Ninety-six years and it still hits me."

Summer gazed up at her sadly. "We've moved on. The Vanguard leaves us alone. I keep thinking you've healed, and then ... this happens."

"Why didn't you tell me that guy was a Guardian?"

"He's six-foot four and built like a house. I thought you were just flirting with him, pretending to guess his job. I didn't realize you honestly didn't know."

"Flirting with a Guardian? If I'd known, I'd have run a lot sooner."

Summer made a sound like a sigh.

After a while, the trapdoor creaked open. Grace called softly, "Mom?"

"Back here," Elizabeth called. She uncurled from the chair and flipped the switch above her head. Fairy lights flicked on along the walls, providing Grace just enough illumination to avoid bumping into objects.

Grace descended the stairs, closing the trapdoor. "I told Durn you had a stomach ache."

"Thanks," Elizabeth said with a shaky smile. "I couldn't stay there."

Grace hugged her. Elizabeth hugged her back, so thankful for at least one family member who understood.

"He left," Grace added, releasing her. "But he said he liked our tea and he'll be back. Just thought I'd warn you."

Elizabeth dug her fingers into her hair, holding back a groan. "I can't handle Guardians, Gracie."

"This one thought you liked him," Grace replied, giving her a flat look. "He wanted your communications numbers. I told him you didn't give those out."

Elizabeth groaned and sank down to sit on a crate. "I did like him, sort of. Before I found out he's an immortal trained in the art of fighting and killing."

"Mom," Grace said, leaning into her face. "So are you."

Elizabeth glared at her. "Not anymore. I'm only a Lightbearer. It's not my fault Summer found me. And no Guardian is going to - ever - do what Sheltiel did."

Grace sighed and sat on a crate opposite Elizabeth's. "I'll cover for you as long as I can. But you're going to have to send Durn off, yourself. He liked you."

Elizabeth sat there, gripping her knees, gathering her resolve. "I guess ... I'll just have to face him. I got myself into this. I can get myself out. And if he attacks me, use the shotgun under the counter."

Grace grinned. "Roger."