Nothing answered.
Lucian’s shoulders dropped. Just a fraction. Just enough for Finn to notice.
"She’s not here," Lucian said.
"Then why did you bring us?"
"Because sometimes you have to stand in the places they stood. Even if they’re empty." Lucian turned to face him. "It helps you understand."
Finn didn’t understand. But he nodded anyway.
They left the warehouse. The moon had moved, casting different shadows now. The water lapped against the piers. Somewhere, a bird called out in the dark.
"What now?" Finn asked.
Lucian looked up at the sky. The stars here were different from the ones in his world. Brighter. Closer. Like they were watching.
"Now we wait," he said.
"For what?"
"For a sign. A feeling. Anything."
Finn wrapped his arms around himself. The cold was getting worse. Or maybe he was just tired. Maybe both.
"Can you make food again?" he asked.
Lucian glanced at him. Then, without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out another loaf of bread. And a piece of cheese. And a small flask that smelled like water.
He handed them over.
Finn took them with trembling hands. "You really can make anything."
"Almost anything."
"What can’t you make?"
Lucian was quiet for a moment.
"Memories," he said. "I can’t make people remember."
He walked to the edge of the pier and sat down again, legs dangling over the water. Finn sat beside him, closer this time. He ate the bread and the cheese, drank the water, and tried not to think about how strange this was.
A god sitting next to a thief on an abandoned dock in the middle of the night.
"You’re not from this world," Finn said.
"No."
"Are you going to leave?"
"Soon."
"Will you take me with you?"
Lucian looked at him. "Why would you want that?"
Finn thought about it. About the alleys and the hunger and the cold. About the people who looked through him like he wasn’t there. About the future he didn’t have.
"Because there’s nothing here for me," he said.
Lucian didn’t answer right away. He looked back at the water, at the reflection of the moon, at the way the light rippled and broke and reformed.
"There’s nothing for me either," he said quietly. "Not anymore. Not until I find her."
"Then we’re the same."
Lucian almost smiled. "Maybe."
They sat in silence, watching the water, waiting for a sign that didn’t come.