Page 16

I found the page I needed. "Here—Sands Boundary Fortification. It's designed to create a magical membrane that filters out dimensional instabilities."

"Show me," Chloe said, moving closer.

I traced the spell pattern in the air, leaving trails of golden light.

Chloe studied it, then began mirroring my movements on the opposite side.

As our magic extended toward each other, something unexpected happened—the golden threads of my spell intertwined with Chloe's silver-purple energy, creating a braided lattice that pulsed with power.

"That's not supposed to—" I began, but was interrupted by a thunderous crack.

The barrier at the edge of town had fractured. Through the breach poured shimmering distortions—ordinary objects twisted into impossible shapes, birds with too many wings, flowers blooming and dying in seconds.

Without discussion, Chloe and I raised our hands simultaneously.

Our magic flowed together as if we'd practiced for years, my containment spell weaving perfectly with her stabilization magic.

A dome of golden-purple light expanded outward, intercepting the anomalies before they could reach the square.

"How are we doing this?" Chloe gasped, her eyes wide with wonder.

"I have no idea," I admitted, equally shocked by our perfect synchronization. "But whatever it is—keep doing it!"

The anomalies multiplied, warping reality around us. A park bench stretched like taffy, its wood grain swirling into impossible patterns. A flock of birds flew backward through time, aging from adult to fledgling to egg in seconds.

"We're just containing it," I shouted over the dimensional thunder. "We need to close the rift!"

Chloe's hair whipped around her face as she maintained our barrier. "How?"

I glanced at the tear in reality expanding above us, a gaping wound in the fabric of our dimension. "There's a sealing spell in the grimoire, but it needs more power than I can generate alone."

"I can amplify," Chloe said, her eyes fixed on the rift. "My specialty was always amplification."

"That might work, but—" I hesitated, looking down at the ancient grimoire in my hands. The book had been in my family for centuries, containing spells and wisdom accumulated through twelve generations of Sands warlocks. It was literally priceless, the cornerstone of our magical legacy.

And I was about to destroy it.

"But what?" Chloe demanded.

"Nothing." I made my decision instantly. "I need you to create an amplification circle. I'll channel the spell through the grimoire itself."

Her eyes widened. "Lincoln, that will?—"

"I know." I flipped to the final pages of the grimoire where the most powerful spells were recorded. "Let's do this before I change my mind."

Chloe nodded, immediately beginning to draw a complex pattern of runes around us. Meanwhile, I placed my hands on the ancient leather cover, feeling the accumulated magic of generations humming beneath my fingertips.

"Sorry, Grandfather," I whispered.

As Chloe completed the amplification circle, the townspeople gathered at a safe distance. I caught a glimpse of Zelda's shocked face as she realized what we were attempting.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Ready," Chloe confirmed, placing her hands over mine on the grimoire.

I began the incantation, channeling my magic through the book. The grimoire began to glow, first with a gentle light, then with increasing intensity until it was painful to look at directly. The leather binding creaked, then smoked as centuries of preserved magic activated at once.

"Now, Chloe!"

She closed her eyes, her amplification spell surging through the circle beneath us. The grimoire shuddered in my hands, pages turning on their own, ink lifting off parchment and swirling into the air. The book was sacrificing itself, converting its physical form into pure magical energy.

The assembled spell shot upward in a blinding column of light, striking the dimensional tear. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a sound like the universe taking a deep breath, the rift began to close.

The grimoire crumbled to ash between our fingers.

I slumped onto Chloe's couch, every muscle in my body protesting. Magical exhaustion wasn't like physical tiredness—it felt like someone had hollowed out my bones and replaced them with lead.

"Drink this," Chloe pressed a steaming mug into my hands. The liquid inside shimmered with an iridescent glow. "Restorative potion. Tastes like feet, works like a charm."

I took a sip and nearly spat it back out. "You weren't kidding about the feet part."

"Quit whining and finish it. You channeled enough magic to power Manhattan." She sat beside me, her own exhaustion evident in the shadows under her eyes. "So. Master Warlock Sands, huh? Were you ever going to mention that little detail?"

I stared into the murky potion. "It's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it."

I sighed. "The Sands family has balanced business and magic for centuries. My great-great-grandfather started as a printer of magical texts before expanding into mortal publishing. Each generation was expected to maintain both traditions."

"And you didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

"In publishing circles, being known as 'that warlock editor' doesn't exactly help with credibility. I compartmentalized—magic with family, business with colleagues." I took another revolting sip. "I've spent so long keeping those worlds separate that it became second nature."

Chloe's expression softened. "You shouldn't have to hide parts of yourself."

"Says the woman who pretended to read the dictionary when I caught her with a romance novel."

"That's different."

"Is it? We both hide the pieces of ourselves we think others won't accept." I reached for her hand, wincing as magical aftershocks rippled through my arm. "Today I watched my family's most precious heirloom turn to dust, and all I could think was: 'At least Chloe's safe.'"

"Lincoln—"

"Sweet merciful mother of chickens!" Frosty burst into the room, tiny glasses perched on his beak, a massive tome clutched in his wings. "I've been researching what happened during the rift closure, and—" He stopped, squinting at us. "Holy feathered frittata."

"What?" Chloe and I asked simultaneously.

Frosty set the book down, circling us with analytical precision. "Your auras. They're... braiding together."

"They're what now?" Chloe frowned.

"Intertwining. Merging. It's extremely rare—happens when two magical signatures are perfectly compatible." Frosty adjusted his glasses. "Last documented case was in 1897. A warlock and witch from competing covens. They eventually founded the Harmonious School of Magical Theory."

Chloe looked at me, eyes wide. "Is that why our magic amplified each other's?"

I nodded slowly. "It would explain a lot."