As the boat gently drifted through the winding river, D’Angelo sat with his arms wrapped around his knees, watching the water ripple and shimmer in the fading light. A sudden thought made his eyes widen.

  “Wait! There’s a waterfall ahead—just past that bend!” he said, pointing urgently downstream.

  Jeremiah didn’t even flinch. “We’ll be fine.”

  “But—!” D’Angelo started, but the moment the roar of falling water grew louder, Jeremiah calmly raised his hand.

  The shadows around them thickened for a moment, curling like smoke, and then—

  Pop!

  They were suddenly further down the river, past the crash of the waterfall, bobbing smoothly like nothing had happened.

  D’Angelo’s mouth hung open. “Whoa.”

  He stared at Jeremiah. Then the questions started to spill out, one after another, tumbling over each other like pebbles in a rushing stream. “How did you do that? Is that your power? Do all heroes do shadow stuff? Can Shadow talk ’cause of magic? Is he the only animal that talks? Do you live in a big tower? What’s it like in Chicago?”

  Jeremiah held up a hand, half-smiling. “Slow down, kid.”

  D’Angelo shrank back a little but still looked up eagerly. Shadow chuckled beside him, tail flicking. “He’s got energy. I like him.”

  After a few moments, Jeremiah answered, “My powers are shadow-based. I can bend them, move through them. Shadow can talk because some animals get powers from the rifts too. We’ve been partners for a while now.”

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  “Are there more heroes like you?” D’Angelo asked, eyes wide.

  “About four hundred in Chicago,” Jeremiah said. “But there are fifteen million people total. City’s big. Real big. But it can feel small when everyone’s packed in like a sandwich.”

  Shadow barked a laugh. “That’s a weird way to put it.”

  “I like sandwiches,” D’Angelo said quietly, and they all chuckled.

  The sky was painted with streaks of orange and violet now, and Jeremiah glanced upward.

  “We should camp soon,” he said, steering the boat toward the riverbank. “Can’t travel in the dark, not safely.”

  He guided the shadow-boat into a patch of tall reeds and dissolved it with a flick of his fingers. As his boots hit the muddy shore, he turned to D’Angelo and Shadow.

  “Let’s make camp. Tomorrow, we head to Chicago.”

  D’Angelo stepped onto the land, feeling the grass under his feet. He looked out at the stars just beginning to appear and tried to imagine a city so big it could hold fifteen million people… and four hundred heroes.

  The fire crackled gently in the clearing, its orange light flickering on the faces of D’Angelo, Jeremiah, and Shadow. The stars above were shining bright, like glitter scattered across a giant black sheet. A soft breeze rustled the tall grass, and somewhere nearby, crickets chirped in a slow, steady rhythm.

  They sat in a small circle around the flames, sharing travel rations—dry bars, jerky, a few sips of clean water from a metal flask. It wasn’t much, but it was warm and quiet, and for a little while, D’Angelo felt safe.

  Nobody said much. The silence felt good.

  When they finished, Jeremiah leaned forward and doused the fire with a careful splash of water. Steam hissed up into the night.

  Jeremiah stood and unrolled his sleeping bag. “Here,” he said, offering it to D’Angelo. “You take this one.”

  “But what about you?” D’Angelo asked, his voice small.

  “I’ll be fine,” Jeremiah said, stepping back.

  Shadows pooled beneath his boots and rose up like smoke, swirling and twisting until they formed a soft, thick sleeping bag beside D’Angelo’s. It pulsed faintly with dark energy, but somehow still looked warm.

  Shadow circled twice, then curled up tight beside Jeremiah’s shadow-bed, letting out a low, contented huff.

  D’Angelo slid into the real sleeping bag. It smelled faintly like soap and old trees. “Jeremiah?” he asked, peeking out.

  “Yeah?”

  “How’d you know where we were going?”

  Jeremiah smirked a little. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  Then he tapped something on his wrist. A soft blue light flickered to life in the air above it—a floating holographic map. Little dots blinked, and lines moved like glowing rivers across the projection.

  “This is my amplifier,” he said. “It does more than just show maps. Tracks mana levels, scans lifeforms, boosts my shadow-casting. Real handy.”

  D’Angelo’s eyes went wide. “That’s so cool…”

  “But that’s not the only way I know where we’re headed.” Jeremiah turned his face up to the sky, pointing to a big, bright star above the trees. “You see that one?”

  “The really bright one?”

  “That’s the North Star. A long time ago, before amplifiers or tech, people used it to find their way to safety and freedom. Still works.”

  D’Angelo blinked up at the star, quiet again.

  “No more questions tonight,” Jeremiah said, lying back. “Get some sleep.”

  But D’Angelo didn’t answer. He sat in silence for some time still staring at that star—wondering if maybe his parents were following it too. Before eventually falling asleep.