The drive was exactly as awful as Kyle had expected. They stopped only once, and when the truck opened the sun was only beginning to rise. They had a few minutes and almost no privacy to relieve themselves without a trace of dignity, then it was right back up the steps onto the truck. Fay didn’t blast them with magic and tear the truck to pieces, but she did cry almost constantly after their stop, with only a brief respite while she ate.

There was no privacy for that either, though at least having her sister living with her had given Kyle some time to mentally prepare for that to happen. It wasn’t like the process was unpleasant for her by now—the residue displeasure faded as it became more routine. The protest of her memory was always fainter than the relief of no longer feeling a pressure she couldn’t resolve, along with the general warmth that came from being in the baby’s immediate presence. She’d have called it brainwashing if she hadn’t used her laptop to browse a few “mommy blogs” when she should’ve been doing her homeschool work.

“And all this only happened because the baby didn’t want to drink regular milk?” Kara said, from atop her third fortress of pillows and blankets. Now that they were awake there was little they could do to kill the time. “Do you think Mom and Dad would’ve let you keep her if she did? I know tons of people with farm animals.”

Even if she hadn’t changed me, she never would’ve let us keep her in the stable. Even considering that physically hurt, as she imagined Fay’s terrified cries in the dark, surrounded by rusty metal and spiders. “No point thinking about what didn’t happen,” she said flatly. “I did plenty of that in school, instead of actually accomplishing anything.”

Kara shrugged. “Fair, I guess. Something else, then—have you told your magical friend about me yet?”

Kyle hit herself weakly with one hoof, wincing. “No. That’s… I probably should’ve.”

“Obviously. It isn’t like we’re bothering to keep any information from them anyway. But you and the baby have your magic, right? Maybe there’s something I can do too. For all we know, I’ve been able to change us back this whole time and just didn’t know how.”

That seemed very much like wishful thinking to Kyle, but she didn’t bother saying so. Just like arguing things that didn’t exist, trying to fight optimism with realism was another way to keep her from actually making progress. “I’ll send another message as soon as we get the internet.”

She glanced down at her phone, lifting it into the air. Flitting on the edge of exhaustion, she could barely lift it. But she only needed to touch it with her snout for the screen to come on and show her that there still wasn’t any service. “I should’ve brought it out with us on that bathroom break.”

“No point.” Kara slumped back into her pile of cushions. “Life is on hold until we fix that. Nobody to call. No friends to see, no games, no class, nothing but baby and—”

“Magic,” Kyle interrupted. “I’m not saying it’s worth-it, but… how many people do you think get to learn this stuff?”

“Not me,” Kara hummed. “Keep bragging, bro. I’m not sure I’d trade levitation for having a baby I need to feed. You go for it if you’re into that, I guess…”

Like she had a choice.

The rest of the trip went much like that, with Kara alternating between anger and disappointment at their lives left behind, Fay crying, and Kyle herself barely conscious with exhaustion.

At least they had the heater to keep the truck reasonably warm, and the blankets to rest on. Whenever she accidentally touched the bare metal of the trailer, it sucked the heat from her like a gardening tool left out in the snow.

She probably dozed, because at some point she looked up from the pillows and found Kara building a pillow fortress around a giggling Fay. She wasn’t even up long enough to express her gratitude before she faded again.

Then they stopped, and the doors banged open. Fay had given up on crying, though with the sunlight she briefly lurched for the exit—until the movers appeared in the opening. She stopped dead, staring in their direction before darting back towards Kyle. She caught her in her wings, shielding her from the strangers as they began working.

Behind them was an industrial-looking wall. Even if she’d been young the last time she saw Grandpa’s house, she remembered enough to know it wasn’t made of metal crudely painted the same green as the evergreens visible off to one side.

She wanted to investigate whatever was out there, but… some part of her didn’t want to get close to these strangers either. Instead she waited, until the last of the bags were removed and she could finally make her way to the exit without resistance.

She moved Fay to her back, and the foal didn’t fight her. After the misery of their trip, she probably just didn’t have the energy.

As Kyle neared the end of the trailer, she felt the chill of freezing air on her skin, slowing her and making her shiver. Kara didn’t even seem to notice, and she squeezed past her to peek outside. There was barely enough room for both of them to stand abreast in the truck.

She stopped at the edge of the trailer, taking her first good look around. A square structure like an old bunker rose a single story from the rocky soil of a mountainous cliff. Behind it, an oversized wind-turbine painted green and brown whistled as the wind passed unevenly through its blades. The truck parked at the end of a gravel path, though even the gravel was greenish. This place is probably invisible from the air. The truck didn’t give her a good enough view of the bunker’s low roof, but she guessed it probably matched the surrounding rock.

The only thing Kyle couldn’t see were her parents. Oh shit.

The nearest doors were open, polished steel on the inside even if they were matte on the outside. That was where their luggage had gone.

A shadowy figure appeared from the gloom there, taking shape as he emerged. Tall and thin, with white hair and the jacket of his suit under one arm.

Grandpa looked exactly the way Kyle remembered him, without so much as an extra wrinkle on his face. He didn’t actually join them in the pale arctic sunlight, but only went as far as the bunker’s exit. “It’s delightful to see the two of you again, Kyle and Kara. Welcome to the Lodge.”