There, on the grassy island with waves lapping gently at the shore, was my trashcan, battered and rusted, my promise to Shazam spray-painted on the side.

The food I’d tossed through was gone, no doubt pecked clean by birds on the world. The enormous dog bed I’d tossed through was…I hurried over to it and knelt on the ground, inspecting it.

I plucked a long, thick silver whisker from the dark brown faux fur and held it up for the others to see. “He was here!” I exclaimed excitedly.

My excitement evaporated. It was only proof that he’d been here a few months ago, when I’d tossed it in. Which, Shazam’s time, was decades ago.

I surged to my feet, turned my face up to the sun and called, “I see you, Yi-yi. I’m here, Shazam. I’m sorry it took me so long but I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

There was no reply.

I spun in a slow circle thinking maybe he didn’t like seeing three strangers, and frankly, they were three of the strangest people I’d ever known: two ancient, immortal shapeshifters, one Fae queen. Maybe the Nine smelled bad to him. I could understand his reservations. I was downright normal compared to them. “They’re my friends, Shazam. They won’t hurt you. It’s safe to come out.”

Still nothing.

I called for him. I said his name over and over. I crooned and cajoled and finally burst into our theme song. “Shaz the mighty fur-beast lived up in the air…”

When I glanced at Ryodan, his shoulders were shaking and he was doing his best not to laugh.

“I was a teenager,” I said with a scowl. “It’s a great song. The meter works, it rhymes, and the melody is indisputably catchy.”

“I’ll take it over Animaniacs,” he said, quickly turning away to stare out over the lake. His shoulders were still shaking. Bastard was still laughing.

I whirled away and resumed singing.

I spent hours calling him. Talking, bribing, flattering. Trying everything. I’d brought raw fish in my backpack and offered them to the air, waving them around, making a complete ass of myself and inciting a fresh wave of nausea. If he was up there, forcing me to enact such dramatic shenanigans, there was going to be hell to pay.

Finally, I turned to the others and said, “You have to go back home. He may never come out with you on the island.” I refused to believe he wasn’t here. It might take weeks, maybe even months, to convince me of that.

None of them liked the idea.

“I’m not leaving you alone here,” Ryodan said. “I’ll make myself unseen.”

“Shazam won’t be fooled,” I replied irritably. “He’s far more brilliant than you. He’s a hundred times the super you are. He’s evolved beyond anything we’ve ever seen.”

“Why don’t you tell me about him?” Mac invited. “I brought food and blankets in case we needed to spend the night. We’ll eat and you can tell me about your time together.”

In my head, she said, If he’s here, and he’s as sensitive as you told me he was, his feelings are hurt. Hearing you tell us stories about him may coax him down.

I conceded the wisdom of her plan.

Mac made a fire and I discovered I wasn’t the only one who’d brought fish, but hers were on ice in her backpack. She wrapped them in foil and tucked them into the embers to roast. As the aroma filled the air, I dropped down cross-legged by the fire and told Mac how we’d met on Olean, how he’d taught me to freeze-frame better, and the story about the edible planet. I even told her some of the tales I’d not told anyone about the less dangerous jams we’d gotten ourselves into, and how Shazam had rescued me, time and time again. As I reminisced, some of the grief over Dancer that was eating me alive was met by yet more grief as the realization settled in that Shazam really might not have waited or survived.

Did I have to lose everything? Both of them? Was this the harsh life lesson I had to learn now? Did some people just not get an easy life? I would never say it wasn’t a good one but, bloody hell, sometimes I wondered why mine was so rocky all the time!

Eventually my stories made me miss him so keenly that, combined with my fresh, hot grief over Dancer, I did something I’d never done in front of Shazam because he was so vulnerable and prone to manic fits of depression. No matter how bad our circumstances had gotten, I’d never cried.

I did now.

Bloody hell, all I did anymore was cry! It was ridiculous. I despised being this person. Mac started to cry, too, and I looked at her through my tears and said impatiently, “You don’t have anything to cry about. What’s wrong with you?”

“Your pain is mine. When you hurt, I hurt. If someone who truly loves you sees you in pain, they share it.” She tipped her head back, staring up at the air. “And they’d certainly step in to stop it. To comfort you. No matter how much of a pissy mood they were in. They would see that their Yi-yi was devastated and do anything to make her feel better. Even if they didn’t feel like it,” she practically snarled.

The fire exploded in a tower of sparks and was instantly extinguished.

The foil wrapped fish vanished.

Bones tumbled out of the sky, showering down on me, bouncing off my head.

I scrambled to my feet, rubbing at my eyes. “Shazam! Are you there?”

Violet eyes materialized in the sky above me, narrowed to slits. “You said wait. Your expects, bars on my cage. Did you come? No. Not then. Not the next day. Not ever.”