Page 32 of The Witches Catalogue of Wanderlust Essentials (Natural Magic #2)

Chapter 18

Twin Flames

R osie waited patiently while Will surveyed the items in the glass-fronted bakery case. “I want to pack something for this trip that’ll keep my porting energy up. I’m thinking of something historical. ” He was taking his time choosing.

Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Historical?”

“The best snacks stand the test of time, no?” Will’s eyes creased at the corners as he smiled at the teenager. “I’ll take two dozen of these macaroons.”

“Will! That’s all of them!” Rosie moaned. “You couldn’t leave some for everyone else?”

“Now, now, Rosie. Don’t be shaming a poor creature for needing fuel!” Granny Luna said as she marshaled the colorful cookies into a takeaway box for Will. They floated through the air and assembled themselves in a checkered pattern. “We’ll just bake some more for this afternoon.”

While Will debated the porting merits of various pastries with Rosie, Maida slipped into the chair beside Zani. She watched Zani as she recalibrated the Pair Tags. The last thing Zani wanted was to get separated from Will and get lost in the past. How would she ever get home again without him?

“So,” Maida said quietly, “you and Will are headed off on a ‘research’ mission. Care to share any more details with me?”

It pained Zani not to tell Maida everything about her plans to travel with Will. She settled on a half-truth instead. “Will’s helping me gather more information about the bloodstone. I needed to go to France, and obviously, I can’t leave the archives for very long. I can’t go anywhere for very long till I get it into a state that the Society will sign off.”

“And then?” Maida asked tentatively. “You’ll go back to traveling full time?

“That’s the plan.” Zani nodded. “But who knows how long that will take?”

She’d thought it would be easier to catalog the paper, parchment, and scrolls in the archives before moving on to the artifacts and objects. But it was excruciatingly slow going. She’d vastly underestimated the number of secret family potions for broomstick-induced motion sickness. There just seemed to be no end to it all.

“But in the meantime, you and Will?” Maida’s gray eyes danced back and forth between Will and Zani. Her friend’s hopeful expression did nothing to hide her wishful thinking.

“It’s not like that.” Zani blushed.

Will was certainly growing on her. She thought of him as a good friend. Maybe even more. A partner. Someone she could rely on. But that was all. Zani knew herself well. She avoided long-term relationships. Kind, reliable men like Will Porter weren’t for flighty types like her. She was better suited to brief go-nowhere flings with questionable men like Cosimo.

At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

“It’s complicated,” she said.

“It usually is with you.” Maida’s tone was fond. “But you can’t blame me for hoping. You’ve always been like a sister to me, Zani. And I was really hoping that once you were settled here, you’d consider staying a little longer.”

“Primrose Court is a lot nicer than I thought it would be,” Zani allowed. “I always thought that living in a cloistered community would be boring, but there’s a lot going on here. You certainly don’t lack for interesting characters.” She gestured to the customers in the busy bookshop. There was a wide variety of shifter types, witches, and more than a few Fae sipping tea and reading in the cafe. “It’s delightful to see so much love and diversity here.”

When she saw Maida glance across to the table where Arthur Hart was working on a legal brief, she added, “And I’m so happy for you and Arthur. The two of you give me hope for magical folk.”

“I didn’t expect to fall in love when I inherited this place,” Maida mused. “But I suppose Arthur and I were destined to end up together. And now I’m like one of those dopey characters who tries to fix everyone else up. I can’t help it. I just want all my friends to be happy.” She glanced back at Will, who was still teasing Rosie and Granny at the counter. Snippets of their banter filtered over.

“I absolutely will not be making a stop to buy you some new unmentionables while we’re in France, Granny Luna! Quick or otherwise,” Will was saying.

“Why do you think they call them unmentionables?” Rosie pondered.

Maida and Zani exchanged a look and broke out giggling. A part of Zani wanted to bottle this moment—the warm, homey feel of the bookshop cafe, and the sweet sensation of being surrounded by friends who felt like family. She would miss that when it was finally time to move on.

“You know,” Maida said tentatively, “I’ve been thinking. The old garden shed on the side of the Mudpuddle needs rebuilding. We could turn the structure into something else. What if we enlarged it and made it into its own separate shop? Maybe you could think of something to do with it. And upstairs, maybe we could create a couple of small apartments in case you or Will wanted to?—”

“Stay here for a while?” Zani finished, hearing the gentle suggestion in her friend’s voice.

“Will’s already here so often. I think he might like the idea. And I’m sure you’d prefer having your own space here, if you were to come back for any length of time. No pressure, though!” Maida watched Will return with his armful of pastries piled on top of the pastry box. He nearly dropped a raspberry-filled croissant as he dodged Gemini who wound her way around his ankles.

Zani followed her gaze. Will had a smudge of powdered sugar on his nose, and his hair was sticking up where he’d been running his fingers through it. Something warm and entirely unfamiliar fluttered in her chest. She pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the memory of Cosimo’s mysterious smile, and the way he’d helped her steal the stone. She was surprised to find that she was having trouble remembering the vampire’s face, though. All she kept seeing in its place was Will’s teasing smile.

“I really can’t think about putting roots down anywhere right now,” Zani said firmly, pinning one of the Pair Tags to her collar. She held out the other to Will as he sat down. “Here. Put this on so we don’t get separated.”

Will took the tag, his fingers brushing hers. The metal tags warmed instantly.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave the two of you to it, then.” Maida stood to go. “But think about my idea, Zani? There might come a point in the future when you want to plant yourself somewhere. At least for a time.”

Before Zani could ask Maida what she meant, Will slipped into her spot and dumped his feast on the table. He glanced around cautiously before launching into their plans.

“I’ve been thinking about what we should wear on this trip,” he whispered in hushed tones. He handed her a rather squashed pain au chocolat. “We can’t exactly walk into the court of a sixteenth century monarch looking like this.”

Zani appreciated Will’s newfound attempt to be discrete. After the incident with Granny Luna, they’d both realized they needed to be more careful when discussing their plans. She didn’t want to have to use the fan again.

“We need to blend in.” Will leaned forward. “That’s why I packed some classic French snacks. He held the box open for her to peek inside. “But I’m afraid I have nothing to wear.”

Zani grinned, reaching for her satchel. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got just the thing. I’ve packed us each a Reversible Rogue’s Cloak.”

* * *

The ground beneath them bubbled like a belch, and then spit them out as they slid through the portal. It pitched Zani and Will forward. Will’s arm shot out instinctively, steadying both of them as the world blurred and reshaped itself around them. This time, there had been no hitches. The Port had been relatively smooth. One moment they stood in the dusty stacks of Maida’s bookshop; the next, they were standing, albeit unsteadily, in a shadowed alcove. The drone of distant voices and occasional twang of stringed instruments filtered through the heavy tapestries that hid them.

“Did it work?” Zani whispered, her hand still gripping Will’s arm as she slid off his back.

He peered cautiously around the edge of the alcove, then jerked back, eyes wide. “Either that or we’ve just landed in the middle of a very convincing historical reenactment,” Will muttered.

Zani peeked around the curtain as well. “Magical marvels! We're here. We’re actually here!”

Surprisingly, the first thing that hit Zani wasn’t the sight but the smell , a cloying, overpowering wave of perfume that made her eyes tear. Beneath it lurked the scent of something foul: unwashed bodies, chamber pots, and the odor of spoiled food.

“They weren’t joking about hygiene in the history books,” she murmured, holding her nose.

Will grimaced. “Makes sense why they doused themselves in perfume. I think I’ve lost my appetite in this century.”

“Keep it together,” Zani whispered. “You need to eat to keep your strength up.” She reached into her bag for one of Will’s macaroons and stuffed it in his mouth.

“Mmmm, do you think you could feed me a couple more?” Will licked the sugar off her fingertips. “That’s definitely helping.”

Zani shoved two more cookies into his hand. “Help yourself. And then let’s get our bearings.”

A few minutes later, they stepped cautiously into a corridor adorned with gilded moldings. Courtiers moved past them in tight clusters. Zani had to struggle not to stare at the women with towering hair and men wearing powdered wigs and doublets embroidered with silver thread. The soft rustling of silk skirts filled the air, punctuated by the whisper of fans that flicked open and closed. The courtiers seemed to use them for concealing murmured conversations and calculated glances.

She was grateful for the cloaks that allowed them to blend in. Paired with their Nip Clips, their disguises seemed to work. Zani and Will appeared so utterly unremarkable that nobody looked at them at all. But the courtiers certainly kept a careful watch on one another, a game that they did little to disguise.

“Everyone’s spying on everyone else,” Will observed under his breath.

“Same old social politics. Reminds me of seventh grade. How little things have changed in five centuries.” Zani rolled her eyes, taking in the scene. Her gaze lingered on the two ladies, who tilted their heads together behind ornate, oversized fans. Their eyes followed a handsome gentleman passing by. “Those fans aren’t just for show, they’re hiding behind them to gossip. Secret alliances, betrayals, scandals. We’re in a nest of vipers pretending to be butterflies.”

Will tugged at his cloak. “That bag of tricks of yours is really paying off. No one’s looking at us like we don’t—” He broke off abruptly, his eyes widening.

Zani followed his gaze and froze. Sauntering casually down the corridor, a leopard on a golden chain moved with deadly grace, led by a bored-looking page boy.

“Catherine’s menagerie,” she breathed. “I’d read about it, but seeing it...”

The leopard’s amber eyes met hers for a heart-stopping moment before it continued on its way, tail swishing.

“Just an ordinary day in the French court, where exotic animals wander the halls,” Will mused. “Nothing unusual here.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a small monkey scurried across the polished floor, chattering as it climbed up a guard’s leg. The man, apparently accustomed to such interruptions, merely sighed and plucked the creature from his uniform, handing it to a passing lady-in-waiting.

“Those weren’t Ordinary animals,” Zani murmured to Will. “I’m pretty sure those two are shifters.”

“Society spies, perhaps?” Will whispered back. “That’s one way to keep tabs on the royal Ordinaries.”

“We need to find the alchemy laboratory,” Zani said, forcing her attention back to their mission. “Whoever penned that charred notebook I found had direct access to the bloodstone amulet. And to have enjoyed that sort of familiarity, he would have had to have been one of Catherine’s personal alchemists.”

“Which way to the royal quarters, then?” Will asked.

Zani studied the flow of activity around them. “Follow the power,” she said. “The more well dressed the courtiers, and the more ornate the surroundings, the closer we get to the queen.”

* * *

They didn’t have to search for long. At every fork in the road, they chose the more lavish path. Finally, they found themselves in a large antechamber outside what appeared to be Catherine de Medici’s private chambers. A group of rouged and bejeweled courtiers lingered near the entrance, their hushed voices buzzing with anticipation.

“Something’s happening,” Zani whispered, pulling Will behind a gilded marble column.

The ornate doors to the chamber swung open, and the crowd parted. A tall, slender man emerged, his face a mask of cool detachment. Zani’s breath caught in her throat.

Gold and silver symbols intricately embroidered his black robes. Zani recognized the signs of the zodiac. But the most striking thing about the mage was his hair, as glossy and black as a raven’s wing. It set him apart in the hall full of men wearing white powdered wigs.

“Cosimo,” she rasped, her eyes wide.

Will felt her tense beside him. “That’s him ? Your vampire?”

“Stop calling him my vampire.” Zani nodded, as she stared at the man who had helped her outwit the Romanian vampires and steal the stone. Who would help her? That hadn’t happened yet here.

Here was an earlier version of Cosimo, younger than when she met him, several centuries later. But he was the same man.

However, he was not the same. One glance was enough to gather that this man wasn’t the warm, almost paternal figure who’d reminded her to pack a bag and urged her to be more cautious. This Cosimo moved with calculating precision, his eyes cold and assessing as they swept over the assembled courtiers. She couldn’t imagine this Cosimo pressing a tender, reassuring kiss to anyone’s forehead.

Behind him came Catherine herself, regal in dark blue silks, her face unreadable as she passed Cosimo a small velvet pouch. It barely contained the light from the sparkling blue stone within.

Cosimo bowed deeply. “The scrying stone predicts that victory will be yours by the new moon, Your Majesty.”

Catherine’s lips curved in a smile that never reached her eyes. “Excellent, young man. We’re gratified to see that your studies in Egypt have served you so well. We are even more grateful that you’ve had the wisdom to share that scrying stone’s power with your monarch. You were fated to serve in this court, Cosimo. You will go far.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Cosimo’s head bowed.

“Our astronomers assure us the event will come soon. You should set to work grooming a suitable sacrifice for the coming eclipse ritual. Someone who will give their life for France.” She spun and retreated into her chambers.

“Sacrifice?” Will murmured, his face pale.

Zani shook her head in disbelief. “This can’t be right. Cosimo was a scientist, a historian. He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t!” But the evidence was before her eyes. Cosimo tucked the pouch inside his robes with practiced efficiency, as though handling materials for the queen was routine.

The crowd dispersed after Catherine retreated to her chambers. Cosimo remained, examining a parchment before starting down a corridor to their left.

“We need to follow him,” Zani said, her voice hollow.

Will caught her arm as she moved to step out from behind the column. The touch sent a jolt through them both as their tags suddenly warmed against their skin.

“Zani, wait.” His fingers tightened protectively. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I have,” she said. “The man I thought I knew wouldn’t take part in this sort of stuff. Dark magic? Sacrifices? This isn’t the Cosimo I know.”

Will’s eyes softened with concern. “People change. Or maybe... maybe they don’t, and we just never really knew them.” The heat from their tags intensified as Will’s hand still held her arm, a strange, uncomfortable resonance building between them. Zani yanked her arm away.

“There’s no ‘we,’ Will. You’ve never met him in any timeline, so you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped.

Will winced. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just can’t imagine that…” He paused as he searched for the next word, lips twitching with distaste as he spat out the word that was stuck. “That vampire ever being the good guy?”

“We need to see what’s in his laboratory,” Zani said, pulling herself together. “If he’s the one corrupting the stone for Catherine, there will be evidence.”

They followed at a safe distance as Cosimo turned down increasingly narrow passages, finally stopping at a simple unmarked wooden door. Will and Zani ducked behind a tapestry just in time to avoid being seen as Cosimo glanced around, checking for spies. Quickly, he undid the lock. Only after ensuring the coast was clear did he trace the pattern of a twelve-pointed star on the door. When it swung open, he slipped inside.

“Now what?” Will whispered.

Zani studied the door. “Now we wait. Hopefully, he won’t be long.”

Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, Cosimo emerged, now carrying a leather case. He locked the door with a key from his belt and strode away, his footsteps echoing on the stone.

“Can you pick it?” Will asked.

Zani reached into one of her satchel’s many hidden pockets and pulled out a hairpin. She held it up to show to Will. “See! It pays to be prepared!”

She worked fast to recreate the twelve-pointed magical sigil exactly as Cosimo had drawn it to clear away any wards. As skilled as he was, his Ordinary mage magic was no match for her own experience and talent. The simple lock yielded with ease to her skilled fingers.

“Piece of cake!” she whispered confidently. They slipped stealthily inside, closing the door behind them.

Cosimo’s vast workspace was both familiar and alien to Zani. The organization of his materials, the precise arrangement of books and instruments—all spoke of the careful, conscientious, and methodical man she knew. But the contents told a different story.

At the back of this makeshift lab were stoves and furnaces where athanors bubbled with viscous liquids, emitting noxious fumes. Jars containing all manner of preserved specimens lined the walls. The eyeballs bobbing in the cloudy solution looked distinctly human.

A series of symbols were etched into the floor, and the wine-colored stains beside them did more than hint at the active pursuit of dark rituals.

“This isn’t ordinary science or anything natural,” Will said, revulsion clear in his voice. “This is?—”

“Blood magic,” Zani finished, her world crumbling further. “He appears to be using blood rituals to intensify his sorcery powers.” She moved to a large desk covered in notes and diagrams. “Help me search. We need to find anything related to that stone.”

Zani frantically sifted through papers, her hands trembling. The Cosimo she’d known had been kind, brilliant, and ethical.

How could that same man have emerged from this darkness? Or had the kindness been the lie, a mask worn to gain her trust? To what end?

“Zani,” Will called softly, urgently. “Someone’s coming.”

“Hide!” Zani hissed, diving behind a large cabinet of specimens as Will pressed himself into the shadows beside a bookcase.

The door creaked open, and a servant boy entered, carefully balancing a tray with several vials. The child, no more than twelve, moved with practiced precision as he arranged the vials on a worktable. He was clearly familiar with Cosimo’s laboratory. His eyes never strayed to the darker corners of the room, as if deliberately avoiding whatever horrors they might contain.

Once the servant departed, Will let out a long breath. “That was close.”

“We have little time,” Zani whispered. “Cosimo could return any moment. You keep watch by the door while I search.”

Will nodded, positioning himself where he could see both the corridor outside and Zani working within the laboratory. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“A notebook—Cosimo always documents everything.” Zani’s fingers traced the spines of several leather-bound volumes on a shelf. “He’s always meticulous about his research, and was even five centuries ago, apparently.”

She pulled volumes down, flipping through pages of alchemical formulas and astronomical charts, setting each aside with growing frustration. “Nothing here about the bloodstone.”

“Maybe check his desk?” Will suggested, his eyes constantly darting to the corridor.

Zani moved to the ornate writing desk, carefully shifting through stacks of parchment. As she pulled open a drawer, something clicked. When she slid a finger into the space above the drawer, she felt a small, round wooden button. When she pressed it, there was a second click. Then a small hidden compartment on the desk’s side suddenly slid open.

“Will,” she breathed. “Come look at this.”

Inside the small flat box lay a black leather notebook, its cover emblazoned with a symbol she recognized immediately. A twelve-pointed sigil.

“This is it,” she said.

Her hands trembled as she opened the book. The first pages were filled with familiar calculations. There were basic astrological symbols and star charts that every young witch and wizard would study at a school in the coming centuries. But as she turned the pages, the writings grew darker, the equations interwoven with forbidden formulas and profane symbols that made her eyes ache.

“Anything?” Will asked, still vigilant at his post.

“Yes.” Zani exhaled. She read the page twice.

The blue stone I accepted for safekeeping from the Mer Prince has shown itself to be quite useful. And since no Prince or representative has come back to claim it, I am inclined to keep it for myself, in service to the crown. This stone has already cemented my place at court. Catherine says I am indispensable. After the next eclipse occurs, we will both be more powerful. Although I would prefer to execute this ritual without the aid of dark magic. I will not seek a sacrifice. For now, she wishes for me to have this item made into an amulet for her to wear, so that she can keep these powers close.

And there it was - the rudimentary sketch of the amulet.

“It looks like your theory about the stone starting out as a Celestial Sapphire was right.” Will shook his head. “This is crazy.”

“It is so much crazier than that, though, Will. Cosimo’s journal is here. The fragment of text that I found in the archives is his journal.” Zani breathed excitedly.

Before Will could respond, there was a motion in the corridor. Not the tread of another servant. This step was Cosimo’s.

“He’s coming back,” Will warned. “We need to go.”

But Zani couldn’t tear herself away from the notebook. “Just a few more seconds,” she pleaded, frantically turning pages.

The footsteps stopped outside. The door handle turned.

Will grabbed Zani’s arm, dragging her behind a large bookshelf just as Cosimo entered. Another man accompanied Cosimo. He was older, with a long gray beard and shrewd, piercing eyes that seemed to take in everything at once.

“Hmmm, I could have sworn I locked this door.” Cosimo frowned, looking around suspiciously. His eyes landed on the rows of vials left by the servant boy. “But I can see my apprentice has been here.”

“Apprentices are notoriously careless,” the older man tutted. “I once had a page who–”

“Never mind that! I didn’t ask you to my laboratory to discuss the management of slaves. I need you to help me with the queen. She must be dissuaded. You understand the gravity of what I ask, Nostradamus?” Cosimo was saying. “The queen must believe your prophecy comes from divine inspiration, not your own machinations.”

Nostradamus frowned, stroking his beard. “I do not falsify visions, alchemist. What I see, I speak.”

“Well, tonight you will see what I show you,” Cosimo replied coldly, moving to his desk. He paused, his hand hovering over the surface, sensing something amiss. “Someone has been in here.”

His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the room. Zani clutched the notebook to her chest, pressing herself against Will in the shadows.

Cosimo’s gaze swept past their hiding place. For a terrible moment, Zani was certain he’d spotted them. But then his attention was drawn to the hidden compartment in his desk, still partially open.

“Thieves!” he hissed, spinning toward the door.

Nostradamus raised a hand. “Wait. I sense... something unusual.” The prophet closed his eyes, his face contorting as if in pain. “Time bends unusually in this room. There are those who do not belong.”

Cosimo’s hand moved to the dagger at his belt. “Show yourselves!”

Will’s arm tightened around Zani’s waist. They were trapped. Zani’s mind raced, taking inventory of the items in her bag and calculating the odds if they made a break for it. The odds were not in their favor.

Before she could decide, Nostradamus stumbled forward, his eyes rolling back to show only whites. His voice, when it came, was deep and resonant, filling the chamber.

“ The twin flames across time divide, one stone, two paths, the darkest tide. What was corrupted cannot be pure unless the porter and vagabond endure. The mermaid’s return opens the door, but only love closes what ambition tore. ”

The prophet collapsed into a nearby chair, exhausted. Cosimo stood frozen, his attention completely fixed on Nostradamus.

“What does it mean?” Cosimo demanded. “Why can’t you speak plainly, you old fool!”

But Nostradamus merely shook his head, his energy spent. “I cannot interpret what the universe does not wish to interpret, alchemist. My vision was not for you.”

“Then for whom?” Cosimo roared.

Nostradamus’s eyes drifted toward the cabinet where Will and Zani hid. “For those who walk between times. They are here, among us now.”

Cosimo whirled, dagger raised, but at that moment, a commotion erupted in the corridor—shouts and the heavy footfall of guards.

“Your queen calls for you, Master Cosimo,” a voice announced. “The Spanish diplomats have arrived early. Her Majesty requires your presence immediately.”

Cosimo hesitated, clearly torn between investigating the intruders and answering Catherine’s summons. Court politics won out.

“Watch him,” he commanded the guard, gesturing to Nostradamus. “Stay posted outside this door and let no one enter until I return!” With a last suspicious glance around the room, he strode out.

The moment the door closed, Nostradamus spoke quietly. “You have perhaps two minutes before he realizes I have misdirected him. The queen expects no diplomats today.”

Will and Zani emerged cautiously from their hiding place, staring at the prophet in shock.

“You know who we are?” Zani asked.

The old man smiled wryly. “I know you do not belong to this time.” He nodded at Zani and Will. His eyes lingered on the notebook she had clutched to her chest. “If you have what you came for, I suggest you leave at once. The mage’s ambitions make him a dangerous foe.”

“Why are you helping us?” Will asked.

“Because my visions show I must. I see two paths, one where the map heals, and one where it shatters forever.” Nostradamus’s eyes fixed on the door.

A sudden shout from the corridor cut the conversation short. “Search the sorcerer’s chambers!”

“Go!” Nostradamus urged. “You’ve run out of time here.”

Will grabbed Zani’s hand, pulling her toward a small, leaded-glass window. He summoned the port with his other hand. Zani felt the Pair Tag against her collarbone. It was hot, too hot. It singed her skin.

“Something’s wrong,” Zani gasped, holding onto Will’s shoulders and attempting to wrap her legs around him. It was almost as if he was too far away, bundled in blankets. His form didn’t feel quite right.

“The temporal pressure—it’s building too fast,” Will shouted. “Hang on! We need to go now!”

Zani held tight to Will. He ran toward the incomplete portal swirling in front of the window. As they crashed through, the Pair Tag, now glowing hot enough to cause her clothing to smoke, sent out a shower of sparks. The notebook that she was still clutching burst into flames.

As they fell with the burning book between them, Will’s form changed to something larger, more distant, and utterly unrecognizable. Struggle as she might, Zani couldn’t hold on any longer.

She still heard guards shouting. And then a violent surge of energy rippled all around her.

“Will!” Zani reached for him as reality blurred all around her. For an instant, she felt the brush of his fingers grasping at hers, and then she was caught in a temporal riptide, Nostradamus’s prophecy echoing in her mind.

across time divided…