Page 20 of Extraordinary Quests for Amateur Witches

Kieran stopped. At first, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard someone say the word out loud or if he’d thought it.

His eyes darted around. There was kelp on all sides, swaying ever so gently.

As his gaze flitted left to right, he caught a brief flash of a brownish fin.

While it was the wrong color to be the creature he’d seen, it was much too large to be a regular fish.

“A stranger?” a different voice said behind him. Kieran whipped around to see another fin disappearing into the kelp. “Here to visit us?”

He reached up to try to press the beeswax deeper into his ears, but as the voices became louder, he realized it was no use: They were in his head.

Just ignore them, Kieran thought, kicking forward. The bottom still felt so far away, and his muscles were screaming for him to take a break. They’re not real.

He kept going, pushing himself as a third voice began repeating the same thing as the others. “Stranger? Stranger here?”

Not real, Kieran repeated to himself, over and over. Not real, not real.

Slowly but surely, the bottom came into focus.

He was nearly there. His eyes combed over the rocks, looking for anything resembling the creature he’d seen up above.

But it was just rocks. Rocks, and the holdfast roots of the kelp clinging to the bottom.

It didn’t help that it was so dark. Every rock looked the same. Every one except—

There, at the very bottom of the lake, was the head of an enormous beast, its long, serpentine body curled under it, half hidden by rocks.

Its eight eyes stared straight ahead, seemingly unaware of Kieran floating above it.

Its scales had changed color to blend in with its surroundings, making it almost impossible to spot.

But the metallic glint of the Hilt embedded in its forehead was enough to command Kieran’s gaze.

Holding his breath, Kieran gently kicked closer, doing his best to disturb the water around him as little as possible.

His pulse quickened as he hovered directly above the Hilt.

As he reached for it, something touched his foot.

He whipped around as glinting green scales brushed by him. It was almost too dark to see what the creature was, except that it was long and skinny, with a fish tail and a more humanoid top half. Long, spindly fingers reached for him from all directions. He felt something else brush his hand.

“Stranger,” the voices chanted. “Stranger, stranger!”

More scales and more fluttering touches created a blur of movement around Kieran. With a shout, he swatted at them. His hands rippled straight through them, as if they were nothing but projections of light.

But if they’re not solid, how can I feel them touching me? he thought in horror.

More and more fish creatures swept closer, even as Kieran’s hands waved blindly through the water, trying to fight them off.

All the while, they screamed “Stranger, stranger!” in high-pitched, almost childlike voices.

He saw flashes of sharp teeth inside their too-wide mouths.

The cacophony made Kieran want to grab his blond curls and rip them out just to feel something in his head that wasn’t screaming.

As panic gripped him, a new sensation hit: claws. They were no longer simply touching him but swiping at him, the skin splitting beneath long, bony fingers. Blood rose from the cuts, staining the water red around him. As the creatures swam through it, their words began to change.

“Kieran,” they said, instantly paralyzing him. “Kieran’s come to see us. Come to stay!”

How had they learned his name?

“Get away from me!” he howled, his voice turning to bubbles. He tried to kick them away. He was nearly within grabbing distance of the Hilt, the spirit just below him, but that didn’t matter. His heart was drumming a panicked beat against his ribs, and his throat seemed to be closing up on him.

Suddenly, the lake spirit’s head turned, and all its eyes looked straight into his.

Kieran’s entire body went cold.

“Kieran?” asked a gentle voice. “Are you okay, my darling?”

Kieran blinked. Suddenly, all the creatures were gone. In their place was a familiar woman, her red hair streaming around her in the water. She had the same sharp chin, pouty lips, and big eyes as Briar, though there was something cloyingly sweet about her smile that Briar could never replicate.

Camilla Pelumbra, Kieran’s mother.

She wore a white dress with pink and blue flowers stitched into the neckline.

Kieran remembered it from his childhood—she’d worn that most days, not caring when it got dirty as she sat in her garden and stared out at the mountains for hours at a time.

Kieran’s father would always promise she was just relaxing, but Kieran knew it was more than that.

His mother smiled only when she had something to prove; the rest of the time, she had that same faraway look in her eyes, as if she were simply too numb to feel anything but emptiness.

For a moment, a cocktail of emotions overloaded the logical half of Kieran’s brain.

It had been half a year since he’d seen his mother’s face.

He hadn’t spoken to her since the curse broke, even though there were days when he had to fight the impulse to call her up and chat.

That was the hardest part of their estrangement.

He’d always been closer to his mother than anyone else in his family, even though she’d been overly coddling and rarely spoke about anything other than herself.

As a child, though, Kieran hadn’t cared about that.

He’d been her favorite, and it had made him feel good.

Even when he’d realized, years later, that her favoritism wasn’t so much a love of him as it was a love of how the family treated her for having him.

She was the tragic mother, doomed to lose her only son to the family curse, which had made her a martyr among the Pelumbras.

That kind of attention had fueled her for years, even at her most depressed.

For a second, staring at her floating there in the water, all Kieran wanted was to throw his arms around her. Despite himself, he missed her. He missed the way she’d always made him feel special and talented and good .

Everything he hadn’t felt since the curse broke.

“Mom?” he whispered.

“It’s okay, my sweet boy.” She floated closer to him, reaching out a hand to smooth his hair as she always had when he was a child. “It’s just us now. I’ve got you.”

As Kieran looked into her eyes, the world around him seemed to blur.

The fear that had gripped at him moments ago was gone.

While part of him screamed to look away, to escape, it was growing quieter by the moment.

In fact, that part of him wondered why the idea had even occurred to him.

Why had he ever thought some scepter hilt was important when his mother was right here?

“I missed you,” Kieran admitted.

“I know.” His mother’s arms encircled him, hugging him tightly. She felt warm and steady, an anchor holding him safely in place. He sank into her embrace, squeezing his eyes shut as she whispered, “I’ve missed you too. And I’m so, so sorry for everything that happened.”

That, however, made Kieran pause.

He’d always wanted to hear those words come out of his mother’s mouth.

Even in those final moments in the basement of the Pelumbra mansion, when Delilah had broken the curse, part of him had been silently begging her to apologize.

To admit that she’d been wrong about how she treated her children, to own up to the pain she’d caused both twins.

Because then, maybe, he could still have a mother.

But she hadn’t. Because part of her, Kieran knew, simply couldn’t.

This isn’t real.

Kieran blinked, and all at once, the scene around him came back into focus. Where his mother’s arms had been before was only kelp. It was wrapped around his arms and legs, and a piece was beginning to encircle his throat.

And staring directly into his eyes, barely a foot away, was the enormous head of the lake spirit. Its jaws were open, massive teeth poised to bite Kieran in half and swallow him.

Instantly, he thrashed, tearing at the kelp with his fingernails.

The stalks around his legs clamped down harder, and he swore he heard a faint, shrill scream as he ripped off the one on his left wrist. He grabbed the one around his throat and tore it off, more shrill screams filling his head as he did.

They were all in his mother’s voice now, begging him to stop.

The spirit’s jaws opened wider, preparing to consume him.

“Wait, wait!” Kieran cried, voice muffled by the breathing device. “Stop! I can help you!”

The spirit hesitated. Kieran couldn’t be sure, but recognition seemed to show in its eyes. Maybe it could understand him. It had, after all, been granting the townsfolk’s wishes for years—it would make sense that it would be capable of listening, even in this corrupted form.

Which is probably my only shot at getting out of this.

“Hattie explained to me that you’ve spent centuries helping this town,” Kieran told the spirit.

It hadn’t so much as blinked since he’d first opened his mouth, making its stare even more intimidating.

Still, Kieran continued, “That’s a long time to spend taking care of others.

Maybe you could let someone help you for once. If you do, I swear I can fix this.”

Suddenly, the lake spirit paused. Its mouth closed slightly, and there was something…confused about its expression. As if it had never considered that someone might want to help it.

“You must be lonely down here, huh?” Kieran said.

As he spoke, the kelp began to loosen around his limbs, withdrawing into the water.

“All this time, you’ve been alone. And you must have felt extra lonely after the scepter’s magic changed you.

Is that why you lured the townsfolk down here?

Because they stopped leaving you presents and you got sad? ”

The spirit let out a small whimper. Its mouth closed all the way now, and it hung listlessly in the water, as if all the anger had been drained out of it. Now it just seemed…broken.

Ever so gently, Kieran reached out and touched its otter-like snout. “I understand. I used to be lonely too. My family treated me like there was something wrong with me for something I couldn’t control. You’re the same, aren’t you? You’re not a monster—you’re just angry they abandoned you.”

The spirit bowed its head, whimpering again. Kieran rubbed its scaled cheek.

“I might be able to help you change back,” Kieran said. “You just have to let me pull that Hilt out of your head. Is that okay?”

The spirit regarded him, unsure. After a moment, though, it drifted closer to him, its head bowed and the Hilt just inches away. Kieran swallowed his terror past the pulse pounding in his throat. He grabbed hold of the Hilt.

It slid free of the creature’s head with a burst of light.

The creature let out a sharp cry. At first, a rush of terror flashed through Kieran. Did I hurt it? Is it about to swallow me whole?

Then, though, its body began to glow, shrinking before Kieran’s eyes. By the time it was finished, the spirit had been reduced to the size and shape of a regular river otter, but with scales and fins like a blue-green fish.

It was, for lack of a better word, adorable.

The spirit made a delighted clicking sound, swimming in a circle before barreling toward Kieran. He yelped as it slammed into his chest, nuzzling into the front of his undershirt and squeaking happily.

Kieran’s heart was still racing, but he felt the fear begin to ebb.

Gently, he reached out, letting the spirit rub its head against his hand.

He scratched the side of its head, a small smile on his face.

It may have lured townsfolk to their deaths, but it was under the influence of the Hilt when that happened.

Considering what Hattie had said about its having served the town for so many years, he doubted that it posed much danger now.

Still petting the creature, he let his eyes slide to the Hilt in his hand. It was brilliant silver, heavy and solid to the touch. Even in his grasp, it seemed to fizzle with magical energy, as if it could spring to life at any moment.

I did it, Kieran realized through the din of the spirit chirping its thanks. I actually did it.

The moment he relaxed, the psychic strain hit Kieran.

His limbs felt like jelly, and it was all he could do to go limp and hang in the water.

As his head began to pound with a powerful migraine, the lake spirit grabbed hold of his shirt.

It held the back of it like a mother cat with the scruff of her kitten, webbed feet flicking as it lifted him toward the surface.

As the light returned and Kieran’s vision began to swim with a painful, bright aura, the surface came into view above him. Moments later, his head broke the surface.

He gasped for air as a familiar voice said, “Kieran!”

He looked up just in time to see Sebastian on the rowboat, reaching out for him. Kieran wearily held out his hand. It was barely enough for Sebastian to grab it and haul him halfway into the boat. With a bit more wriggling, Kieran sprawled out, pulled the breathing device off, and gasped for air.

“I got it,” he whispered gently, holding up the Hilt.

“I knew you would.” Sebastian reached out and gently touched his wrist. “Now let’s get to shore before Elias’s mercs realize I cut the fuel lines on their boats.”

That was all Kieran needed to hear before he passed out, the Hilt held tightly against his chest.