The wind had picked up outside, and a rumbling thunder in the distance had already started approaching when Abby and Riley had returned to their treehouse. Abby had pulled out her pyjamas out of what remained of her duffel bag and settled in to her new bed, but Riley was still sitting at the table downstairs. She'd convinced Sadie to borrow the archive, writing down things in her own log, starting by making a page for every kid at camp. Sadie Lapointe, Jean-Paul Meynard, Marigold Salerno, Jacob Austin Ganz, Autumn No. She'd also started sketching each of them - except for Autumn, of course. She'd been nowhere to be found.
"Come on Ri, go to bed already."
"Just a few more minutes. Maybe an hour."
"Can you at least turn off the light?"
"Fine." Riley got up from her wooden chair and turned out the overhead lamp, only having her sketches be illuminated by a string of fairy lights Marigold probably put there. "Better?"
"Better." Abby mumbled and rolled over in bed. "Good night, Ri."
"Good night, Abby."
As the night progressed, the storm got worse. The wind howled through the trees, making the whole structure creak. Riley tried to focus on her sketches, but her hand kept shaking with each thunderous boom. She'd never liked storms. They reminded her of Iowa, when she was home alone when her dad was working late, terrified and alone in her bedroom as tornado sirens wailed outside.
She flipped through the archive again, searching for any mention of Autumn. There were only a handful of photos - all taken from a distance, mostly showing just a silhouette in that highest treehouse. In one, she was perched on a branch, looking out over the forest like some kind of sentinel. The date on the back was just two months ago.
A particularly loud crack of thunder made Riley jump, nearly knocking over her chair. Above her, Abby muttered something in her sleep and turned over.
This is ridiculous, Riley thought. I'm fourteen, not four. It's just a storm.
She looked out the window, looking for something - anything - to reassure her. The trees weren't much help, thrashing violently in the wind, while lightning bolts occasionally illuminated the presidents' faces, casting an eerie shadow that made them look furious.
Through one lightning flash, Riley caught a glimpse of something else - movement in that highest treehouse. Someone was up there, in this storm. Autumn, she thought. What kind of person stays up there in weather like this?
The kind of person she needed to understand.
Riley closed her eyes, focusing on that treehouse. She'd seen it clearly enough during the day - the rough wooden planks, the makeshift roof, the way it swayed slightly in the wind. Another crack of thunder made her flinch, but she held onto the image. Just like teleporting to school, she told herself. Just like going home.
"You shouldn't be here." the girl sitting on the edge of the treehouse platform said. Somehow, she was dry, the rain curving around her in a way that left her untouched.
"I'm sorry, I just wanted-"
Riley took a step forward, but the girl raised her hand in warning. "That's close enough." Thick drops of rainwater splashed onto Riley's body, soaking her clothes.
"You must be Autumn," she said, slightly shivering from being soaked in icy rainwater. "I'm Riley." She reached out her hand, and realised that Autumn wasn't sitting at all - there was a cushion of air between her and the ground. She was levitating.
"Why are you here, Riley?" Autumn answered without turning around.
"The storm. Felt... strange to me to have you be up there all alone.
"Your concern is noted. You can leave now, you don't have to worry about me."
"You sure? It must be scary up here."
"I'm fine. And that's also not what I meant. Why are you here at the camp?"
Riley considered lying, but something about Autumn's direct gaze made her reconsider. "I can't be at home. I made a mistake, my dad saw me teleport, so I ran."
"And that's enough? He hate you or something?"
"He's a government agent. Looking for people like us. With powers."
Autumn glanced over. Her black hair was barely chin long, and it looked like it was cut with an exacto knife and a ruler. Her black sweater looked thin, but if she was cold, she didn't let it show. Around her neck was a silver necklace with a crescent moon pendant hanging from it. "Is that what you believe, or what you know?"
"Does it matter?"
"Course it does." Autumn got up, rising to her full height - she was definitely taller than Riley, maybe even taller than Sadie, though her feet still didn't touch the ground. Hovering above the wooden platform, almost like a ghost. "Fear based on knowledge is wisdom. Fear based on belief is paranoia."
"That's... surprisingly deep for someone who spends their days spying on people from a treehouse."
"I read a lot." Autumn gestured to the stack of books floating in mid-air next to her. "Not much else to do up here."
"Don't you... get lonely? You didn't come to dinner, and-"
"Lonely means safe. Especially out here." Autumn said, with a barely detectable hint of uncertainty in her voice.
"Is that what you believe, or what you know?"
Autumn cracked a tiny smile. "Touché." She opened the door to her treehouse. "If you're gonna stay, get inside. You're gonna catch a cold."
Inside Autumn's treehouse, everything seemed to float. Books drifted by in lazy circles, and a few blankets hung suspended in the air like laundry on an invisible line. A small desk was bolted to the floor, covered in star charts and weather reports. The walls were lined with polaroid photos, but unlike the ones in Sadie's archive, these were all of the sky - storms, sunsets, strange cloud formations.
"You can sit," Autumn said, gesturing to a chair that wasn't actually there. As Riley hesitated, confused, she felt an invisible force gently push her up until she was floating at sitting height. "Sorry. Sometimes I forget normal people need actual furniture."
"You can control gravity?" Riley asked, trying to ascertain where the limits of her invisible antigravity chair were.
"I can influence it. Control is a strong word. None of us really control anything, not even ourselves." Autumn moved to what appeared to be her bed - really just a mattress suspended in mid-air. "I can make things float, fall, change which way is up, make them ignore gravity altogether. Speaking of..." A strange pulling sensation ran over Riley's skin - not like she was moving, but like someone pulled off a band aid. A moment later, all the rainwater out of her clothes and off her skin collected in a football sized sphere above her head, which Autumn flicked out of the window with a quick gesture.
"Thanks."
"Don't want you to get sick."
"You caught Abby and me, didn't you?"
"Yeah." Autumn's voice grew quieter. "I saw you both drop out of nowhere. Didn't even think about it, just... reached out. Not much time to react, sorry about the scrapes."
Another crack of thunder made Riley jump, nearly losing her precarious floating position. Autumn quickly steadied her with a gesture.
"You really don't like storms, do you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"I can feel your heart rate through the fields. It spikes every time there's thunder."
"Grew up in tornado country. And when you're this high up..."
"The tree won't fall. None of them will. I made sure of that."
They sat there, in their treehouse, both wanting to continue the conversation but not knowing how. "Can you read anything else about me? Aside from my heart rate, I mean."
"Your breathing. If you get goosebumps, I can feel that too."
"That's better than having your mind read all the time, I guess." Riley tried to joke.
"JP means well. He's just not good with social norms. Privacy. Boundaries. That sort of thing."
"And you are?"
"I am. I just choose not to participate."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the rain curve around the treehouse in impossible patterns. Riley noticed that while everything else floated, Autumn's notebook remained firmly on her desk, weighted down by what looked like a small meteorite.
"You write?"
"Just observations."
"What kind of observations?" Riley asked, genuinely curious now.
Autumn hesitated for a moment, then with a subtle gesture, brought the notebook floating towards them. "Weather patterns mostly. Wind speeds. Cloud formations." She paused. "Changes in gravity."
Riley leaned forward slightly, careful not to disturb her invisible seat. The notebook was filled with precise measurements, calculations, and detailed sketches of weather systems. But between the technical notes were other observations - quick sketches of the other camp members, seen from above. Marigold in her garden. Sadie chopping wood.
"You really do see everything from up here."
"Not everything." Autumn's voice was quiet. "Just what I need to see to keep us safe."
A particularly bright flash of lightning illuminated the treehouse, followed almost immediately by a deafening crack of thunder. Riley flinched hard enough that she would have fallen if not for Autumn's power holding her steady.
"Here." Autumn made a complex gesture with her hand, and suddenly the sound of the storm became muted, as if they were wrapped in an invisible bubble. "Better?"
Riley nodded, grateful. "How do you do that?"
"Sound travels through air. Air moves because of gravity. Change the gravity, change how sound moves." Autumn shrugged. "Simple physics. I call it a null space."
Riley relaxed a little in her invisible chair. It reclined. "How'd you figure out you could do all that?"
"Took years of practice." There was more to that story, Riley could tell.
"When did you discover your power?"
"Not the time. I get to ask you a question now."
Riley nodded and yawned. "All right."
"Why did you really come up here tonight?" Autumn asked quickly, as if she'd wondered about that for a while.
Riley considered the question carefully. "Because you're the only one who hasn't tried to convince me to stay."
"Would you listen if I did?"
"Probably not."
"Then I won't try." Autumn's dark eyes met Riley's. "But I will tell you this - there's a life to be had here. Sadie's just doing her best. We all are. Hiding and running away are two different things."
"And which one are you doing up here?"
"Both." Autumn admitted. "Just like you."
The storm continued to rage outside their bubble of calm, but somehow it seemed less threatening now. Riley found herself studying Autumn's face in the dim light - the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the way her short hair fell across her forehead, the slight downturn of her mouth that suggested she didn't smile often.
"You should get some sleep," Autumn said finally. "It's late."
"Yeah." Riley agreed, but made no move to leave. "Thank you. For catching us today. And for... this."
Autumn nodded once, then gestured towards the door. The gravity bubble around Riley shifted, gently guiding her towards the exit. "I don't say this to many people, but you can visit again if you want."
"Really?"
"Next time you want to visit... just use the ladder. Less dramatic."
Riley smiled. "Where's the fun in that?"
She teleported away before Autumn could respond, but not before catching what might have been the ghost of a smile on the other girl's face.
Riley materialised back in their treehouse, her clothes dry and warm. The storm continued to rage outside, but somehow it felt less threatening now, knowing that Autumn kept everything from falling apart. She picked up her logbook from the table, flipping to one of the new pages. Autumn No. The blank space where a sketch should be stared back at her.
She began to draw, trying to capture that moment when Autumn had stood floating above the platform - the way her short hair caught the lightning, how her sweater hung loose on her tall frame, the crescent moon pendant around her neck. Riley wasn't satisfied with her first attempt, or her second. The third try was better, but still didn't capture that strange intensity in Autumn's dark eyes. Maybe pencil just wasn't the right medium.
"Can't sleep?" Abby mumbled from above.
"Just finishing something," Riley whispered back. She scribbled next to her sketch - Gravity manipulation - extent unknown. Creates "null spaces" - pockets where normal physics don't apply. Keeps watch from highest treehouse. Doesn't trust easily, but worth trying.
She paused, her now dull pencil hovering over the page. Saved our lives. Maybe saved mine twice.
"You met her, didn't you?" Abby's voice was clearer now, more awake. "Autumn?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
Riley closed her logbook. "Maybe... we could stay. Just for a little while."