The ride home felt different. Luca pedaled ahead of the others, constantly glancing back to make sure Jamal's backpack—and the treasure inside it—was safe. The brass lantern seemed to have its own gravity, pulling his thoughts toward it even as Luca's tires whispered over the asphalt. Behind him, Maya's chain clicked in a nervous staccato, and Lily's front wheel wobbled with excitement.
"My garage," Luca called over his shoulder as they turned onto stacyridge Lane. "Dad's still at work, and Mom's probably wrestling the twins into their afternoon nap," he added, referring to his younger brother and sister, Charles and Charlotte, the three-year-old tornado twins who seemed to operate on perpetual motion.
Lily skidded to a stop behind him. "So we have the house to ourselves?"
"Perfect timing," Maya said, her front wheel wobbling as she dismounted. "Destiny."
Jamal rolled his eyes, but Luca caught the hint of a smile. Even his cousin couldn't deny the electric feeling in the air—like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.
They propped their bikes against the garage wall and Luca punched the code into the keypad. The door rumbled upward, releasing the familiar smell of sawdust and motor oil. His dad's workbenches lined the walls, tools hanging in perfect order.
"Command center, activated," Luca announced, flipping on the lights and clearing a space on the main workbench. He spread out an old blue tarp to protect the surface. "The lantern, if you please, Professor Jamal."
Jamal unzipped his backpack carefully. "Just for the record, if we get grounded for life, I'm blaming all of you." But his hands were gentle as he lifted out their prize.
The lantern looked different here than in the shed. Sunlight from the garage windows caught its tarnished surface, highlighting intricate patterns etched into the brass. It stood about a foot tall, hexagonal in shape, with what looked like glass panels on four sides. The other two sides held metal doors with tiny latches.
Lily leaned in close. "It smells like… pennies. And something else."
"Starlight," Maya whispered, her fingers hovering over the engravings. "My grandma says old magic smells like starlight."
"Pretty sure starlight doesn't have a smell," Jamal said, but his voice lacked conviction.
Luca ran his fingers over the cool surface. The engravings weren't just random swirls—they formed patterns that almost seemed to shift under his touch. Some looked like constellations. Others reminded him of the symbols Maya had shown them from her grandmother's old books, the ones written in languages "older than our hills."
"Maya, look at this." Luca pointed to a series of curved symbols along the base. "Remember those markings you showed us from your grandma's journal last summer? These look just like them."
Maya gasped, eyes widening. "They're exactly like the ones in her stories!" She traced one symbol that resembled a crescent moon joined to a perfect circle. "This one means 'doorway' in the old language. And this—" her finger moved to what looked like a spiral with five points—"this means 'between.'"
"Between what?" Lily asked, standing on tiptoes to see.
"Dimensions," Maya said simply. "Grandma Rosa says there are places where the separation between dimensions dissolves. Special places. Special times."
"There's something inside," Jamal said, tapping the glass panel. The inside was dark, but Luca could just make out what looked like a small platform at the center, designed to hold something.
"We need to clean it," Luca decided, already reaching for his dad's gentle cleaning supplies—the ones he used on antique fishing gear. "Carefully."
For the next half hour, they worked together. Luca applied metal polish with cotton cloths while Maya translated more symbols.
"Oh, wait," Maya said, reaching into her jacket pocket. "I found these tucked behind the lantern in the shed." She pulled out a small cardboard box, aged with soft edges. "Matches. Old ones."
"Smart thinking," Luca said, as Maya placed them next to the lantern.
Lily, assigned to clean the glass panels, was the first to notice. "Guys," she whispered. "The glass is warm."
Luca looked up from a particularly stubborn tarnish spot. The afternoon light had shifted, the garage now bathed in the golden glow of approaching sunset. And as the daylight dimmed, something else began to happen.
A faint blue-green glow emanated from within the lantern.
"That's… not possible," Jamal said, leaning forward.
The light pulsed once, then again, like a heartbeat.
"My grandmother said lanterns like these need starlight to awaken," Maya said, her voice hushed with awe. "But it's not even dark yet."
Luca felt the hair on his arms stand up. The light was growing stronger, casting strange shadows across the workbench. One shadow in particular—long and impossibly thin—stretched across the concrete floor toward the garage door.
"Did you see that?" Lily whispered, pointing.
The shadow wavered, almost like a finger beckoning.
A soft, musical hum filled the air—not quite a sound you could hear with your ears, but something you felt in your chest. Luca couldn't tell if it came from the lantern or from somewhere much farther away.
Then, as quickly as it began, the glow faded. The shadow vanished. The garage returned to normal—except nothing felt normal anymore.
Jamal broke the silence first. "Guys, that's not normal… right?"
Luca shook his head slowly, staring at the lantern. It looked ordinary again, just a brass antique sitting on his dad's workbench. But he had seen the light. They all had.
"The separation," Maya whispered, eyes fixed on the lantern. "Grandma said twilight is when the separation thins."
"What do we do now?" Lily asked, her voice small but excited.
Luca looked at each of their faces—Maya's bright with wonder, Lily's wide-eyed, Jamal's struggling between doubt and amazement. He felt a familiar tingle in his fingertips, the same one he got before their biggest adventures.
"We wait for actual night," he decided. "And we see what happens when the stars come out."
"After dinner," Jamal added practically. "Aunt Carol will probably call us any minute now."
Luca nodded. "After dinner. We meet back here and head to the woods."
Maya carefully wrapped the lantern in her scarf before handing it to Luca. "You should take it," she said. "Your backpack has more padding than Jamal's."
As Luca tucked the lantern into his hoodie and then into his backpack, he could have sworn he heard a whisper from the lantern itself—a sound like distant wind through autumn leaves, saying yes, yes, come see.
Have you ever found something that wasn't just an object, but a key? A key to somewhere you never knew existed, but somehow always sensed was waiting for you? Luca had. And now there was no turning back.