Chapter Text
The night had settled softly over the river, wrapping the boat in its quiet warmth. The engine hummed lazily as it drifted downstream, the light from the lanterns swaying and reflecting in the dark water. Vi had been up at the bow for a while now, leaning her elbows against the railing, her gaze locked on the horizon where the glow of Zaun began to stain the mist with pale gold.
Caitlyn watched her from the other end of the deck, hidden behind a crate that was half her size. Her little frog hands worked frantically, trying to set up something that resembled… dinner. At least, her version of it.
It wasn’t much. A few pieces of dried fruit that one of the cooks had left behind, some herbs she had found near the ship’s railing, and one rather wilted flower she thought might look nice if placed in the middle. It didn’t help that her hands shook the entire time, or that she’d accidentally spilled half of it into a crack in the deck while trying to arrange it neatly.
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Oh, Caitlyn, you absolute disaster,” she muttered under her breath.
She tried again.
A leaf here, a berry there, it was pitiful, but it was hers. She took a deep breath, glancing toward Vi again. The other frog hadn’t moved, still staring ahead, a faint breeze ruffling her hair. The sight made Caitlyn’s heart do that strange, fluttering thing again.
She wanted this to be perfect. Not because it needed to be fancy — Vi wouldn’t care about that — but because for the first time in her life, Caitlyn wanted to give something that came purely from her heart.
She hopped a little closer to Vi, trying to calm the nervous pounding in her chest.
“Um,” she started softly, “Vi?”
Vi turned her head, one eyebrow raised. “What’s up, Cupcake?”
“I, uh— I made something,” Caitlyn stammered. “It’s not much, but… maybe you’d like to join me?”
…
“Where are you taking me?” Vi asked, her voice still surprised
“I just wanted to show you a little something to celebrate our last night together as frogs,” Caitlyn answered, but Vi could hear the soft tremble in her voice. Caitlyn Kiramman was nervous.
Caitlyn guided her to the tiny space she’d prepared near the back of the deck. The lanternlight flickered gently over her meager spread: the berries, the herbs, the flower she had set between them. Vi stopped beside her, blinking a few times.
“Wow,” she said, after a pause. “You did all this?”
Caitlyn nodded, trying to sound nonchalant, but her voice wavered. “Yes, I, um, thought it might be… nice.”
Vi crouched down beside her, a smile tugging at her lips. “Nice? Cait, this is… adorable.”
“Oh, stop it,” Caitlyn muttered, embarrassed.
“No, seriously,” Vi said softly. “It’s… really sweet. And you minced!”
“I did,” Caitlyn chuckled, “You had quite the influence on me, even though I’ve met hundreds of…” she fell quiet. “I’m not myself right now.”
“You’re cute,” Vi smiled.
For a moment, they both fell quiet. The only sounds were the hum of the engine, the soft ripple of the river, and the faint music from somewhere below deck. The lantern’s light painted Caitlyn’s face in warm gold, and Vi thought she had never seen a more beautiful person ever, even though Caitlyn was a frog at the moment.
Caitlyn fidgeted with a leaf. “I know it’s not much,” she said finally. “I just wanted to thank you. For… everything.”
Vi tilted her head. “For what?”
“For saving me. For helping me. For—” Caitlyn paused, struggling to find the words. Her thoughts tangled together, her tongue tripped over every emotion she tried to hold back. “For being you.”
Vi’s expression softened. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”
“But I do,” Caitlyn said quickly, her voice trembling. “You’ve done so much, Vi, and I keep thinking…I keep thinking I want to do something for you too. I want to help you. With your dream. With the restaurant.”
Vi’s brow furrowed slightly. “Cait, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” Caitlyn interrupted, her words spilling out before she could stop them. “I mean it. I want to see you get everything you deserve, Vi.”
Vi stared at her for a moment, her mouth half open as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words.
They sat there for a moment, their gazes locked, the air thick with something unspoken. Vi’s heart hammered in her chest, because no one had ever said so nice things to her, and this girl was making her feel crazy. She still couldn’t forget the way Caitlyn’s waist felt under her touch that morning. And all of it was soon over.
Vi looked away before her heart would rip out of her chest.
And then she noticed.
“Hey, look,” she said. “Do you see that?”
Caitlyn blinked, turning to look where Vi was pointing. The mist ahead had thinned, and through the veil of smoke and golden light, the outline of Zaun was beginning to take shape: crooked buildings and glowing signs reflecting off the river. But one building, in particular, stood out. It was old and worn down, its roof collapsed in places, but it stood tall on the edge of the water, framed by the moonlight.
“That one,” Vi said quietly. “That’s the place.”
“The place?” Caitlyn asked, though she already knew.
“Yeah.” Vi’s voice softened. “That’s where I wanted to open it. My restaurant. Right there by the water. So people could sit out on the terrace, eat something good, watch the boats go by. I could cook, talk to customers, make them feel like they belonged somewhere.”
She paused, her eyes distant but bright. “You know, my mom used to say that food could heal the soul. I didn’t really get it back then. But I think she was right. That’s what I wanted to do, give people something good, something that’d make them smile even on the worst day. Show them a little piece of what my mom always tried to give me.”
Caitlyn shifted closer, her frog heart hammering. “You will,” she said softly. “You will make it real. I know you will. And I’ll help you, however I can.”
Vi glanced at her. For the first time in a long time, she saw Caitlyn not just as the princess who had been turned into a frog, but as herself. Small, determined, brave, completely unafraid to speak her heart. And Vi’s chest tightened. She realized she couldn’t stop looking at her.
“You really mean that?” Vi asked, voice low.
Caitlyn nodded, cheeks flushing even more. “I do. I’d do anything for you. Vi, I love…I love the way you light up when you talk about your dream. A dream that…it’s so beautiful, I…I promise I will do whatever it takes to make it come true.”
Vi let out a quiet laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Princess, you’re gonna get me crying with all that sweetness. But… thank you. That means more than I can say.”
They both fell silent then, listening to the river, the hum of the boat, the tiny chirps of the fireflies. Vi’s hand twitched almost involuntarily, wishing she could reach for Caitlyn without breaking the fragile spell of that moment. Caitlyn sat with her fingers fidgeting, clearly lost in her own thoughts, her eyes bright in the lantern light.
For a long time, neither of them spoke, just letting the river carry them closer to Zaun. And for the first time, Vi thought maybe some dreams were worth being vulnerable for, worth holding onto tightly, and worth fighting to make real.
Even as the city lights grew nearer, and the familiar sounds of Zaun began to echo across the water, Vi felt a sense of calm she hadn’t known she could feel. Caitlyn had given her something more than just a messy little dinner. She had given her hope. And maybe… just maybe… something more.
“Port of Zaun, all ashore!” came the captain’s voice as the boat eased into the harbor.
Vi and Caitlyn were still sitting side by side, their little frog legs dangling over the edge of the deck as the vessel gradually slowed. The water beneath them rippled gently, reflecting the city lights in playful, fragmented patterns. Shadows and glimmers danced across the surface, echoing the anticipation and the tension that both of them felt. Even in their small, transformed forms, the two frogs sensed the weight of what lay ahead. The adventure was far from over. They still needed to find Avery, and more urgently, they had to convince her to kiss Caitlyn before midnight.
Caitlyn slowly rose to her feet, her movements careful and deliberate as she balanced on the uneven deck. “I’m going to see how we can get off the boat,” she said softly, her voice full of quiet determination.
Vi only nodded, her gaze following Caitlyn as she carefully made her way toward the gangplank. The city loomed ahead, dark and sprawling, the hum of Zaun rising in faint echoes from the streets. Smoke stacks and rusted metal glimmered faintly under the artificial lights, but there was beauty in it too. It was the kind of chaotic, rough charm that reminded Vi why she loved this place. Zaun had never been kind or gentle, but it had always been real, and somehow, that was enough.
As Caitlyn moved far enough away to give Vi some space, she lifted her head to look at the sky. The stars hung like tiny lanterns above, faintly twinkling, but Vi’s mind was too busy to focus on them. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts tangled with confusion and longing.
“Oh, you stupid star,” she whispered to herself, her voice low and shaky. “I’ve always been so sure about what I wanted, but now I… what do I do? Please tell me.”
Vi’s eyes traced the constellations as if the answers might be hidden somewhere among them. Her mind wandered back to the events of the day, to Caitlyn’s small, nervous gestures on the boat, to the way she had prepared that messy little dinner, to the way she had looked up at Vi with that earnest, determined expression. It had been overwhelming in the most unexpected way. Vi realized now that Caitlyn was not just someone she wanted to protect or guide, but someone she genuinely cared for. Her chest tightened again at the thought, a mixture of fear and longing swelling inside her.
The boat creaked as it settled against the dock. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull sounded like a metronome for Vi’s racing thoughts. She watched Caitlyn from afar, frog eyes wide and alert, but the little movements — the tilt of her head, the way her small shoulders rose and fell with each breath — made Vi’s heart ache. She wanted to reach out, to tell Caitlyn everything, but words felt impossible. She did not want to break the fragile, fleeting moment they had on the quiet, reflective water.
Behind her, the city lights flickered, reflecting the energy and promise of Zaun, a reminder that even after so much had changed, the world still moved forward. Vi closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. She knew that soon they would be plunged back into chaos, racing against time, searching for Avery. Yet for this moment, with Caitlyn just ahead of her and the river behind them, she allowed herself to pause.
“Please,” she whispered again, more to herself than to anyone else. “Please show me what to do.”
Her tiny frog hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. The stars above offered no answer, and yet, somehow, Vi felt certain that the path forward, though uncertain, was the right one. She just had to find the courage to take the next step.
…
“Could you hurry up a bit, Caitlyn, we’re going to be late,” came Jayce’s voice from somewhere far.
Caitlyn’s whole body ached. She could not imagine what had happened to her. Her legs throbbed, her arms ached, and it felt as if there was a lump on her head. Slowly she opened her eyes. Then she shut them again. She did not trust what she saw.
In front of her, in a strange room, she saw herself. She saw herself and yet she did not. For a moment she was too frightened to look. Then she opened her eyes again and focused on the person standing a few meters away. It truly was Caitlyn Kiramman. Only it was not the real Caitlyn.
The fake princess was calmly applying lipstick.
“What the fuck,” Caitlyn whispered, voice raw and small.
“Aha, our little creature has woken up,” someone said behind her.
Only then did Caitlyn realize she was inside a mason jar. The glass pressed cool against her back. She twisted, trying to see who spoke. A familiar face leaned close.
“You…” she managed, voice trembling.
“Me,” Silco smiled, a bitter, soft smile that did not reach his eyes. “You have caused us quite a bit of trouble these past few days.”
“You turned me into a frog,” Caitlyn snapped, slapping the side of the jar with both hands. Her nails rattled faintly against the glass.
“I would be grateful I did not kill you,” Silco said. “To be honest, I did not think you would survive the swamp.”
“If Vi finds you she will kill you,” Caitlyn muttered, panic and anger making her voice thin.
“Vi?” Silco lifted one brow and then laughed, the sound dry and hard. Caitlyn could not tell what amused him. “Vi Anderson? That Anderson kid would never help you.”
“You are wrong,” she protested.
Silco’s mouth twisted with contempt. “Anderson cares about her miserable family, and nothing else. She devoted her life to her mother’s dream and little else. Pathetic.”
Caitlyn had no answer. Fear and fury braided together inside her.
“Oh, froggy,” Silco said casually. “Did you think Vi was kind to you because she liked you? She wanted your money.” His words were simple, cruel, meant to sting.
No, Caitlyn thought. Vi was the most caring person she knew. After everything they had been through...
She sank down to the bottom of the jar, letting the cool glass press against her back. Her reflection looked absurd and small.
The fake princess turned toward her at last. She looked the same as Caitlyn in every feature, same pale skin, same blue eyes, same cut of jaw, and yet there was a cruelty there that set her apart.
“Maddie?” Caitlyn blurted, breathless with confusion.
“Good evening, Princess,” the fake smiled in a polite, practiced tone that made Caitlyn’s skin crawl.
“How could you?” Caitlyn asked, stunned.
“How could I?” the impostor answered. Her voice sharpened with years of quiet fury. “How could I, when I spent god knows how many years saving you from your own small disasters? When I had to obey your mother’s orders night and day and put up with your unbearable personality? You throw money at everything you do not need, while I grew up in the slums. Now it is my time to crush those beneath me, to seize every power I can.”
“I never oppressed you,” Caitlyn said, shaking her head, tears stinging her eyes.
“Caitlyn!” Jayce’s voice came suddenly from outside, clipped and formal.
“I would love to linger in conversation, but I have marriage papers to sign, and then there is the celebration,” the fake princess said smugly. She pulled on her coat as if preparing to leave, then slipped through the front door with a crisp, practiced bow.
Caitlyn sat stunned inside the jar. What were they going to do to her, she wondered, heart pounding.
“Do not worry, my dear,” Silco said softly, as if reading her thoughts. His hand rested on the table near the jar, rings catching the light. “We will not kill you. Not yet. We need your blood to keep the spell alive.”
The sound of the front door closing left a heavy stillness behind. Caitlyn’s heart beat so loudly inside the jar she thought Silco might hear it. He leaned back in the chair beside the table, crossing one leg over the other, studying her the way one might study a pinned insect.
“You look surprised,” he said finally. “I thought a woman of your station would be better at hiding her emotions.”
“Let me out,” Caitlyn hissed, her voice trembling. “Whatever you think you’re doing—”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Silco interrupted smoothly. “It’s everyone else who has been stumbling in the dark.” He rested his chin on his hand, his gaze cold and intent. “Do you have any idea how much chaos your little adventure has caused, Princess?”
Caitlyn pressed her palms against the glass, her breath fogging it. “You turned me into this. You and your—your witch tricks. You can’t blame me for trying to stop you.”
He chuckled, low and quiet. “Tricks. You really think I waste my time with parlor tricks?” He leaned closer until his reflection shimmered beside hers in the curved glass. “I make order from the chaos your kind left behind. Your city lives fat on its towers while mine rots. The difference between us is that I do not pretend to be righteous.”
Caitlyn’s throat tightened. She had heard stories of him that Vi told her, Zaun’s ruthless visionary, its self-made devil, but this close, he seemed almost human. Almost.
“Vi will come for me,” she said, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “And when she does, you’ll regret every second of this.”
Silco’s smirk deepened, though his eyes flickered with something darker. “Vi.” He tasted the name again like he had before, drawing it out. “You really do believe in her, don’t you? The noble enforcer from the Undercity. The dreamer who thought she could build a bridge between two worlds.”
“She’s not an enforcer,” Caitlyn said sharply. “She’s—”
“She’s using you,” Silco said, cutting her off. His voice stayed calm, but each word slid beneath her skin like a knife. “You think she loves you, but love is a luxury people like her can’t afford. She saw what you represented…a key to money, to power, to resources. The princess with the golden spoon. Perfect opportunity.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Silco tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Do you think she told you everything? About the people she left behind? The debts she owes? The lives she ruined chasing that ridiculous dream of hers?”
Caitlyn pressed her lips together, refusing to let him see her tremble.
“Even if she did any of those things,” Caitlyn whispered, “she’s not you.”
“Of course not,” Silco said, sitting back. “She doesn’t have my vision. But she has my hunger. That’s what you don’t understand, Caitlyn. Hunger always wins. It devours love, morality, loyalty…everything. You think she won’t trade you if it means keeping her dream alive? You’ll see soon enough.”
“Stop talking,” Caitlyn muttered, closing her eyes. But she couldn’t stop listening.
Silco sighed, almost theatrically. “Well, perhaps it’s better this way. After all, I’d hate for you to die without knowing what’s coming.”
He rose from his chair, pacing slowly around the table. His boots echoed against the wooden floor, measured, deliberate. “When the marriage is complete, your dear double will inherit every privilege the Kiramman name carries. And with my networks in Zaun, we’ll unite both halves of this miserable city under one rule: ours.” He paused beside the jar, lowering his voice. “Do you know what the best part is? Your parents will never suspect a thing. They’ll welcome her home, throw banquets, and call her their brilliant, dutiful daughter. And when the time is right, she’ll destroy them from within.”
Caitlyn’s blood ran cold. “You’re lying.”
He smiled faintly. “Am I? It’s what Piltover deserves. A hollow victory built on its own arrogance. They’ll hand their empire over, wrapped in silk.”
“You won’t get away with this,” she said, but it came out small, like a child’s protest.
Silco turned the jar with a lazy hand, spinning her world slightly. Caitlyn grabbed at the glass, dizzy. “Look at you,” he said. “Still clinging to hope. It’s almost adorable. You think heroes are going to crash through the door, that love will conquer all.” His smile faded, leaving only a hard glint in his eye. “But love doesn’t conquer. It corrodes.”
For a long moment, neither spoke. The room smelled faintly of oil and old smoke. Somewhere, a clock ticked.
Caitlyn swallowed hard. “Why are you telling me this? Why not just kill me?”
“Because,” Silco said quietly, leaning close again, “you’re my reminder. A symbol of everything that must die before the city can be reborn. You’ll stay alive long enough to watch it happen. To see your perfect world crumble piece by piece. Your parents’ downfall, your friends’ betrayals, your city’s fall into the filth where it belongs.” He smiled, almost gently. “And when it’s all over, maybe then I’ll let you go. Or maybe I won’t.”
Her hands trembled so badly she had to clutch them together. “You’re a monster.”
He straightened. “No. I’m inevitable.”
He turned away, heading toward the doorway Maddie had disappeared through. “Rest while you can, Princess. The world will look very different when you wake.”
Caitlyn pressed her forehead to the glass as the door clicked shut behind him. The echo of his footsteps faded, leaving her alone with her reflection. The jar distorted her face into strange, warped shapes — half her, half something else. She felt the tears rise but forced them back.
She would not give him the satisfaction.
In the dim room, she whispered Vi’s name under her breath, like a promise.
And somewhere beyond the city, the faint sound of thunder rolled, as if the world itself was answering her.
…
At the sound of lightning splitting the sky, followed by a long, trembling roll of thunder, Vi flinched.
She had been trudging through the streets of Zaun for at least an hour, heading home.
The night was cold and heavy, the kind of darkness that swallowed the glow of even the bravest streetlamps. Rain hung in the air but had not yet fallen, and the wind carried the sharp scent of metal, oil, and the river that never stopped breathing somewhere in the distance. Midnight was not far now.
Her head ached from the endless whirl of thoughts chasing each other in circles. She kept seeing Caitlyn’s face in her mind, kept hearing her voice, soft but stubborn, the way it always got when she was about to argue. Then she saw only emptiness where Caitlyn should have been.
Caitlyn had left her.
At least, that was the only explanation that made sense anymore.
Vi had searched the boat from end to end, twice, maybe three times, calling her name until her voice cracked. She had searched the docks, the wooden planks creaking under her small, webbed feet, but Caitlyn was nowhere to be found. The water had reflected nothing but her own foolish face staring back.
Maybe Caitlyn had had enough of her pathetic life.
Maybe she had grown tired of Vi’s impossible dreams, of her endless optimism that always seemed to lead nowhere. Maybe she had realized she was better off without her.
The thought hurt worse than the cold.
Vi stopped for a moment under a flickering lamp and rubbed at her temples. She wanted to believe Caitlyn was safe somewhere, that she had simply wandered off or gone to look for help. But deep down, she felt the hollow ache of something gone wrong, something she couldn’t fix by running or fighting.
She forced herself to keep moving, her tiny legs splashing through puddles that shimmered with oily colors. The streets of Zaun were half asleep, half alive. Steam hissed from vents, pipes clanked far above, and rats darted between the shadows. From this height, the world looked alien. Everything she had once known loomed enormous and strange: the corners of buildings rising like cliffs, the glow of windows towering high above her like distant constellations.
And yet, it was still home.
She recognized every crooked alley and rusted railing. She even recognized the soft hum of the power lines overhead, the ones she used to follow like constellations when she walked home late after a job. But now, from the height of a frog, even home felt foreign, unreachable.
The rain finally began to fall, soft at first, then steadier. Each drop struck her skin like a pinprick, cold but grounding. She pulled herself into the shadow of a wall, shaking off the water and looking up at the sky. Somewhere far above the clouds, the same stars that Caitlyn used to look at must still be shining.
Vi’s chest tightened. She whispered to herself, almost in defiance of the storm. “You’ll be fine, cupcake. You always are.”
She didn’t believe it, not entirely. But the words gave her enough strength to take another step.
If Caitlyn was out there, Vi would find her. She didn’t care how far she had to go, or what waited for her when the clock struck midnight.
The rain washed the streets clean of sound, leaving only the steady rhythm of her footsteps and the echo of thunder rolling far behind her.
Home was close now. But peace still felt miles away.
When Vi reached the front of their house she saw that a light burned in the living room. At this hour nobody was usually at home. Vander was at the bar and Powder was usually off wandering somewhere, who knew with whom. The sight of a window lit from within jolted something in her chest. For a moment she stood on the porch and just listened to the night, the distant drip of rain, the low hum of pipes and the far-off clatter of carts. Then she moved.
She bounded up onto the wooden veranda and headed for a window. From this low angle everything looked wrong, familiar shapes made strange by the smallness of her frog body and the lingering dampness of her skin. She raised a hand, small and calloused even at frog size, and began to tap on the glass, the sound sharp in the quiet.
It did not take long. The front door flew open and Powder stood there, eyes wide and breathless. For a second confusion crossed Powder’s face, then it broke open into laughter. Tears actually came to Powder’s eyes as she laughed.
“We were worried about you, sis,” Powder managed between giggles and sobs. Her voice trembled with relief and something like disbelief.
Vi straightened and gave a tired little smile. “Missed you too,” she said, voice raw from the day and from worry and from running out of words.
A familiar voice called from behind Powder. “Vi. Finally.”
Ekko emerged from the doorway, looking every bit the rough, bright-eyed kid Vi knew. He had mud on his boots and a smudge of soot on his cheek. He gave a short nod and wiped his hands on his pants. Vi raised an eyebrow at the sight of him.
“Yeah,” Powder said, still settling down from laughing, “you had to turn into a frog for Ekko to drop by.”
Vi stepped inside because the house smelled like home, warm and safe and oddly normal after the boat and the swamp. Her words came out heavy. “Let’s go in,” she said. She meant it as a rest for her bones, and a chance to think. She was exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.
Ekko’s face tightened. He did not move to let her breathe. Instead, he said there was no time for rest and no time for mourning being soaked by rain. Vi blinked at him. “What?” she asked, incredulous, thinking maybe he was joking.
Then, quieter, very serious, he said: “Caitlyn is in trouble.”
The sentence landed like a stone. Vi felt every step she had taken that night fall to the floor. For a moment Vi could only stand there, feeling the rooms move around her. Then Ekko began to explain.
“When I got back to the camp it was chaos,” he said. “Our tents were torn up, some of the kids were crying, the rest were trying to hold it together. A few of them had been beaten. Sevika and her lackeys were everywhere. I did not want to go near them at first,” he said, and his voice had that dry edge that meant he was trying to laugh away something ugly. “But they set one of our tents on fire. I am sorry, Vi, but I had to tell them where you were. I know I failed you as a friend.” He lowered his head.
Vi shook her head as if to clear it. The thoughts in her skull were a knot. She felt the hum of anger under the skin, a slow, hot thing that pulsed along her bones. “No,” she said finally. “You did the right thing. Your family was in danger.”
Ekko’s hands found the back of a chair and gripped it. He said they had taken him with them into the city, all the way down to the docks. He said he watched as Caitlyn appeared at the pier. He had seen Caitlyn on the dock, but not Vi. He thought Vi had slipped off before the ship came in. He had run away from Silco’s people and found a route to reach Vi’s house.
“So they have Caitlyn,” Vi said. The words were blunt, each one a stone. “Silco has her.” The name tasted like bile. “Fucking Silco.”
Powder muttered something about swamp adventures and not being invited, then fell silent and serious. No one had the heart for jokes. The living room light made all their faces look softer and smaller. Vi’s jaw tightened. The idea of Silco walking around with Caitlyn inside his buildings, with his smug face and his schemes, made something inside her tense like a drawn wire.
“We have to find Caitlyn,” Vi said. The decision slid out of her like a reflex. She said it like it was the only sensible thing in the world, because in a way it was. There was no other goal that mattered. Caitlyn was the priority. Vi could not let her mind imagine the princess hurt on purpose, not by that man.
She began to think through what she already knew. “She was staying at Jayce’s place at first. Maybe she is still there.” The words were soft, almost tentative, as if searching for a plan in the dark.
“Unless she is in one of Silco’s dens,” Ekko suggested out loud. His tone was speculative, but the worry under it was real.
Vi shook her head slowly. “I do not think he would bring her to a den like that. This is personal. He will keep her close, in a place he can control. He will not risk others seeing her.” Her voice hardened with a cold clarity. She knew Silco. He was not careless. If he intended to use Caitlyn he would keep her where he could use her. That made him even worse.
Powder, fidgeting, wanted to know what the plan would be. She forced out practical questions with a small, sharp edge. “Do we storm him? Do we sneak in? Do you kiss your way out of the situation? Where does Avery fit in? Do we need her too? I mean I guess we do.”
Vi hated that Powder was right about more than the joke. Her sister’s practical mind had always been annoyingly sensible. Vi took a breath and let the plan arrange itself, piece by piece, in the room like furniture.
“You are right,” she said at last. “You are right about Avery. We cannot just hope kisses happen by accident.” She looked at Powder and then at Ekko, and for a second the old, stubborn, impatient part of Vi rose up. It did not like asking for help. It did not like to rely. Now she had to.
Powder raised an eyebrow and shoved her hands in her pockets. “You are actually asking for my help?” she said, surprised and delighted. “Hell yes. I have wanted to throw a punch at Silco for a long time.”
Vi allowed a small, tired smile. “No,” she said. “You will go to Jayce’s. You will free Caitlyn. Ekko and I will track down the fake princess and Avery. We will stop this tonight. And if we have to convince Avery by talking, by force, god knows what in order to kiss a frog, we will do that too. If the clock hits midnight, we’re fucked.”
Vi felt the plan settle in her chest like a warm weight. It was ordinary, simple, brutal. It left no room for magic or miracles. It only needed her stubbornness, friends and family, and whatever luck the night still had to spare. The rain still hissed on the roof. The house smelled like stew left over from earlier, warm and ordinary. For a moment Vi let herself breathe in the small normality and then breathe out, hard, with purpose.
She had one thing to do, one life to take back. Caitlyn was not a prize. Caitlyn was not to be bartered, traded, or used. Vi would find her, and she would bring her home.
Powder’s grin was immediate and fierce. “Okay, let us go save Princess Froggy.”