Raven pressed her palm to the cold glass and watched the red gem on her forehead flicker. It only glowed like that when her father's blood stirred. He waited inside her like a crack waiting to spread, and one strong feeling could open it wide enough for him to reach through. So Raven had a rule. She felt nothing. She wanted to keep it that way until she found the spell to seal him away for good. The forest below the tower was quiet at dawn. That was why she came here to meditate, far from the others. Alone, her control held. Then boots crunched behind her. "Found you." Terra dropped down the rocks with a grin, blonde hair sticking up under her mask. She swung a leather jacket over one shoulder. Terra never asked before showing up. She just arrived, loud and warm, like she'd known Raven forever. "Robin sent me. There's a plant near the water he wants you to look at." Raven kept her voice flat. "Tell him I'm busy." "You're always busy." Terra flopped beside her, close, too close. "You know, you'd feel better if you actually talked to somebody once in a while." The gem sparked. Raven felt heat climb her throat. "Don't." "Don't what? Care?" Terra's smile faltered. "Everybody thinks you hate them. I don't think that's true." Something broke loose in Raven's chest. Not anger. Worse. It was the raw wish to be believed, and it hit before she could bury it. The gem flared bright red. Black energy tore from her hands and cracked the rock beneath them. A voice that was not hers spoke from her own mouth. "Closer, daughter. Just a little closer." Terra scrambled back. "Raven?" Raven's shadow stretched wrong across the stone, growing horns. Her father had his foothold. She could feel him pushing, using the one feeling she'd let slip. She had two choices. Shove the feeling down and shove Terra away, or hold on and lose herself. Robin appeared at the tree line, cape snapping. "Terra, move!" Raven didn't wait for him. She looked at Terra, who hadn't run far, who still reached a hand toward her. And Raven made herself do the hardest thing she knew. She let the feeling stay. She named it. "You're right. I don't hate you." The words didn't crack her open. Owning the feeling wasn't the same as losing to it. The gem's light steadied. Her shadow shrank back to a girl's shape. The voice snarled and went silent. Raven knelt on the broken rock, shaking. Her father hadn't sealed himself away. But she'd learned something he didn't want her to know. Feeling wasn't the crack in her wall. Hiding was. "Robin," she said, standing. "I need the oldest books in the tower. All of them." If emotion was a door her father used, she would have to learn to hold it open without letting him through. And soon. Because now he knew she'd found the trick, and he would come harder next time.