Page 14

The time had finally come. Milo flew through the night sky toward Enchanter Diaz and his bear familiar, who were arriving in the city via some train that had been sequestered for official Global Guild business. Milo nearly rolled his eyes at the ripple effect of unnecessarily altering the lives of so many people attempting to get home, travel on business, or enjoy the scenic route afforded by train.

He buried those possibilities, neatly tucking away the potential futures of strangers he’d never encounter again since his mission carried him far out of reach. They’d gone everywhere, it seemed. Gladiatrix announced her presence from Florida all the way to Maine, flying from state to state to force a shift in their target’s plans. Diaz and his familiar hunted along the West Coast without delay. Milo and Wadsworth moved in zigzags across the nation, presenting themselves at every capital city leading to their destination.

Looking through the memories of my manifestation that synced with me revealed Milo’s plan involved a lot of separate PR stunts. All of which was intended to steer The True Witch toward an objective he knew how to prevent. One that’d spare another town the horrors that’d fallen upon Harmony Valley.

Now, this Global Guild coven had reunited and traveled toward a destination where The Inevitable Future intended to shatter every horrible possibility The True Witch sought to unleash upon the world.

And Milo did so here. I snapped to attention, almost reeling myself back into my own mind as I sat at home, wondering when my sunshine would return. He had.

Milo was flying through the Chicago night sky. What was he doing here, of all places? Yes, his mind fixated on meeting with Diaz and Wadsworth, but here? Our home? Why drag this True Witch to our doorstep? Was that the only option? Did Milo want to use her defeat here to push some other agenda? I could never keep up with all the futures he juggled; even having thousands of potential possibilities bouncing around my inner core didn’t truly offer me insight into Milo’s mind. Merely a fucking headache for the ordeal he dealt with.

He reached the abandoned train station, tied off by Cerberus Guild, as he knew they’d move in fast to clear the areas he needed emptied. Enchanter Wadsworth leaned against a pillar, sucking in oxygen from his tank before untwining himself. Such a big mission meant he needed to dispense of anything that hindered his success. I couldn’t imagine him fighting, taking on a non-support role, yet the ideas bubbled along his furious surface thoughts.

Outside the train doors, Enchanter Diaz fussed with armor plating on his familiar bear. She playfully bit the gauntlet on her paw until Diaz shooed her off, adjusting her helmet. Each piece of the bear’s armor covering her from head to toe was etched in enchanted sigils, symbols that warded or dampened or shielded against magics. Even my telepathy struggled to gauge Diaz’s thoughts as he stood close to his guarded familiar.

I searched for the most powerful member in their group but didn’t see Gladiatrix anywhere. That was disconcerting. According to Milo’s mind, she was still several states away, a day’s drive based on the last news report Milo had checked this morning with her helping remove a resurgence of demons from the town of Lumberton, North Carolina.

“Glad you’re here,” Milo said. “We’re gonna have to move soon.”

“Well, it might take some time.” Wadsworth nodded at Diaz and his familiar. “They’ve been getting dressed for the better part of an hour.”

“Priscilla never goes into combat undressed,” Diaz said, tipping his hat. “It’s unbecoming for a lady of her station.”

“Seriously?” Milo questioned.

“No.” Diaz laughed.

“Does she really need armor?” Milo asked. “She’s basically already a thousand-pound battering ram.”

And according to his surface thoughts, they had the full intention of keeping her distant from combat in a supportive role. I scoffed at that, nearly jolting back to my body. They were going to take the elderly man on literal life support into the fight but keep the ferocious bear on the sidelines?

“Definitely. It’s our Sword formations they’d trained in bubbled along Diaz’s mind.

“Look, I get it.” Diaz put his sword away and continued checking over each buckle that held together Priscilla’s armor. “We’re just support on this mission, but that doesn’t mean we go in unprepared.”

The bear growled and nipped at Diaz.

“Baby gurl, you know I gotta double check those straps.” Diaz had a stern fatherly expression, the silent rage of ‘let me do my job’ on his face.

Priscilla whined, letting out a low growl while Diaz checked the fasteners of her plated armor.

“You know the location, Evergreen,” Wadsworth said. “Let’s just go. Leave Diaz behind. He’s barely a qualified Global Guild witch.”

“Oop, I see what you did there.” Diaz tipped his hat at the witty pun that Wadsworth hadn’t intended.

“Just the organization’s way of diversifying.”

“I know you’re referring to my branch when you say diversify,” Diaz said, pointing a finger at Wadsworth. “But you’re treading a thin line, old man.”

“Bah.” Wadsworth waved a dismissive hand, truly finding some branch magics like bestial beneath him.

“We need Diaz and Priscilla,” Milo said, earning ire from Wadsworth’s glare as he didn’t think much of phony psychic magics either.

“I don’t need them to face The True Witch.”

“Well, if anything, they’ll keep her from fleeing,” Milo said. “Pretty sure she’ll recognize the expert trackers who’ll grab her scent the second we confront her.”

“Oh yeah.” Diaz stretched. “Once I get a scent, it’s mine for life.”

“Yuck.” Milo shuddered, imagining every pungent, horrible smell he’d ever encountered.

“Besides, if I get to play, I can do some real damage with this baby.” Diaz pulled out his sword a second time. The symbols glowed now, under his direction, the way he channeled his magic.

That particular blade was expensive and difficult to gain approval for work. Diaz’s sword and his familiar’s armor plating weren’t support tools legally afforded to them, but a casting weapon. In order to use it, he had to pay huge fees and constantly recharge the sigils—which, based on his grumbling surface thoughts, required the aid of a qualified enchantment witch, ward witch, and rejuvenation witch. Christ, he ensured the Sword the wrinkles creased in a familiar way they’d always done when talking with The True Witch. A woman whose love he’d seared from his memory. He’d literally had the thought of her exorcised, burned away, holding only onto the details that’d help in his pursuit of ending her life.

She hadn’t aged, not in Wadsworth’s mind, the same image of her holding a much younger hand of the elderly enchanter. Her French accent had gotten better, more believable, and covered her actual accent, one he never managed to place.

“A glamour from that staff of yours?” Wadsworth asked with a nod to the dangerous gemmed weapon The True Witch wielded. “Or did you finally figure out how to weave those sigils into a solid rejuvenating spell? Something to revitalize your old bones?” He smirked, wheezing as he bit back laughter, actual joy. “I must warn you, reversing the aging process is a delicate and dangerous thing.”

“Only for someone with a novice understanding of their branch, such as yourself, Sammy.”

Enchanter Wadsworth clenched his fists, furious with the feelings that fluttered from hearing her say his name. So much love and lust and loss clung between them.

“Remember, her staff is where the true threat of her power stems.” Wadsworth nodded to the weapon.

Was it a support tool? No. Nothing in Milo’s immediate surface thoughts indicated such, meaning she had full access to her arcane branch, Oceanic Collapse, independent of the staff. I swallowed hard, absorbing the thoughts that crossed Milo’s mind as he studied the assortment of gems, each housing a different branch magic bound inside the jewels through sophisticated enchantment techniques.

“You bring such a small force to face me,” The True Witch said.

“You’re alone, Amara,” Wadsworth revealed her name casually, letting it spill from his mouth like it meant nothing to him, like she meant nothing. Neither was true despite how he tried to will it. “Rumors suggest your Celestial Coven has finally fallen apart. I suppose that time you spent to find yourself didn’t help hold your extremists together.”

Celestial Coven? I trembled.

The same coven from the dreams I had. Dreams I had because perhaps my magic became aware of something, wished to warn me of something. Of what, though? And how? How did my telepathy learn or suspect this connection between The True Witch and the Celestial Coven?

“Enchanter Evergreen.” Amara tipped her staff toward him, pointing. Her menacing curiosity reeled me away from my paranoid questions. “Your clairvoyance is quite the force of steel. It wormed its way into my choices, my future. You knew every X on the map of my commencement, my reintroduction to the world.” She tightened her green eyes onto Milo with an unnerving hunger in her gaze. “You and Global Guild comrades leapt to every marker, every destination so loudly that it steered me here.”

“You could’ve always gone into hiding.” Milo shrugged, knowing that was the faintest of chances he gambled by beating The True Witch to every destination she intended on committing massacres at, by announcing themselves loudly and publicly, drawing crowds and media, and ensuring she knew.

“I am no wafter, no feeble child, no frightened rat.” Her green eyes flitted and struggled to mask the rage, the offense to Milo’s comment. It gave him a direction on how to steer her here and now. “Your Gladiatrix has weaved all across the countryside, has she not? Such a dangerous foe—I was careful to avoid her.” Amara studied the three men surrounding her, training her eyes on Diaz whom her expression revealed little knowledge of. There was a twinge of the unknown in the crinkle of her brow. “Yet you chose to face me without her? Without the Gladiatrix?”

“It’s just Gladiatrix,” Milo said.

“It’s actually Global Gladiatrix,” Diaz noted. “Though, guess that gets a little redundant for her. Global Gladiatrix of the Global Guild. Whatever, Global Gladiatrix, The Inevitable Future, Annoying Old Man—none are half as catchy as Texas Daddy.”

He flaunted his tattoo, but in reality, Enchanter Diaz wanted to let the moonlight glimmer against the enchantment sigils that lined his blade, showing The True Witch that she wasn’t the only one with an understanding for support magics.

“No matter,” Amara said. “Last I saw your Gladiatrix, only real threat, was in the Carolinas, helping with something as trivial as demons.” She spit at the mention of demons as if the word itself left their filth and tar on her tongue. “Figured I should pick a region far from her.”

Even The True Witch knew not to challenge someone with supreme physicality. Given the way it enhanced all of Gladiatrix’s senses, it might’ve added a layer of immunity to her wicked arcane magic that drowned people in their thoughts. Either that or she knew Gladiatrix actually earned her ranking as the fourth most powerful witch in the Global Guild unlike Wadsworth who still ranked among the top-ten witches in the world because of his role in founding the organization.

“So, you’re here to what? Attack big tech? Corporate Casting Inc.?” Milo shivered, feigning phony fear that he’d weaponized into a slight. “Technology really frighten you that much?”

“Nothing frightens me,” Amara said.

“Except for Gladiatrix, clearly.” Milo grinned, cocky and meant to shift The True Witch’s focus, so he could search, search for possibility layered beneath so many wards of protection.

“These companies, these businesses claim to strive for accessibility.” Amara shook her head. “What they offer is simplicity. They brush aside tradition, they ignore customs, and they fail to connect with the universe. All of this. All of it must end. Science is the death of magic.”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” Milo tilted his head, unraveling futures he’d already glimpsed, tying them into what her feigned response added, layering these possibilities and finding a true motive, a real reason. “That’s okay, though. I think it’s time we wrapped this up.”

“I won’t simply hand myself over.” The True Witch shifted her stance, channeling magic into her staff.

I braced for the possibility of her Oceanic Collapse hitting Milo, taking down the others. Who knew how fast that drowning arcane magic took effect, but I could counter it. I had before. This wasn’t interference; it was merely silent support if needed.

A golden blur zipped in front of The True Witch, and Gladiatrix stood before the other woman, one hand twisting her wrist and forcing Amara to drop her staff, while Gladiatrix snatched Amara by the throat and held her in place.

The grip radiated telekinesis, putting Amara in a full-body stranglehold under Gladiatrix’s control. She funneled her physicality into the root magics she wielded, enhancing the power.

“Yield or I’ll break all of your bones.” Gladiatrix had an expressionless face, calm and in control. I couldn’t properly get a read on her thoughts as her mind cycled through Milo’s plan, Global Guild protocols, Wadsworth’s fears, and her own opinions slipped beneath it all.

“You were a thousand miles away…”

Gladiatrix tightened her hold, choking Amara into silence. “Barely an hour’s flight for me.”

“Well, suppose I’ve been bested by the very best of witches.” The True Witch had a half smile that faded into a solemn facade. “I surrender.”

And like that, they’d defeated and detained The True Witch. Impossible. How? Why?

Enchanter Wadsworth stepped onto an armored truck covered in protective enchantments, dampening wards, and sigils of every type. The guards assigned to the truck had already cuffed and bound Amara in place, making her escape impossible, yet Wadsworth’s paranoia matched my own as he studied the witch that’d surrendered without so much as attempting one attack.

Once they closed and sealed the back of the vehicle, the magics triggered and blocked my curious telepathy from further insight.

“So, is the old man actually concerned about the killer witch’s escape?” Diaz asked as he unfastened Priscilla’s helmet. He wouldn’t take all her plating off here, but he wanted her to stop complaining—or so his surface thoughts indicated. “Or is this whole escort thing just Wadsworth’s way of dodging paperwork?”

Milo scoffed. “Doubtful. I’ve been to the MDC, they don’t fuck around with paperwork. I had to practically write an essay just to step inside.”

And according to Milo’s thoughts, Wadsworth planned on following Amara through every single checkpoint of the Metropolitan Detainment Center, examine every glyph, enchantment, and symbol in place to contain the witch’s magic, and stand vigilant in the deepest sectors of the facility where they’d hold The True Witch until proper arrangements had been made.

I’d seen the inside of the MDC thanks to the horrid memories of my Doppler, his semi-possession of one of their correctional officers, and his botched attempt to take control of Theodore Whitlock’s mind. I shuddered; the mere thought of the vile warlock made the scar on my throat burn with a phantom pain. Supposedly, the MDC elevated their security since Theodore’s outburst, and they’d locked him in isolation far from everyone else. Now, if only they’d bolt the door, throw away the key, and leave him to rot.

Gladiatrix floated toward Milo and Diaz. She held the bone staff with the top stuffed with hundreds of gems adorning the cracked-open skull head like a glittering crown.

“Thank you all for everything,” Milo said, nodding to Priscilla so she knew he included her in his gratitude. “And for willing to stick around until this is officially resolved.”

“But of course,” Gladiatrix said. “The Global Guild always sees their missions through to the very end. We leave nothing unresolved.”

Was that why Milo lured The True Witch to Chicago? Did he plan on pitting Global Guild forces against any unforeseen potential ripples caused by my evil manifestation and that damned chimera last semester?

“And you’re certain of this plan?” Gladiatrix asked.

“As certain as I ever am about the future.” Milo grinned, minxy and playful and like he’d shared all his secrets with her, with Diaz, with Priscilla, but it was Milo, and he always had a million more secrets to divulge when it involved the future.

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it,” Diaz said. “Around what we did. I like to think I’m almost average intelligence. Like I play chess, I believe in strategy, but even as you walked me through the plan to catch The True Witch—the ruse of it all, I just…”

Priscilla let out a tiny roar.

“Exactly. Feels like we’re playing checkers, and you’re playing mahjong,” Diaz said to Milo and then pointed to his bear. “And to be clear, she’s a tournament-ranked champion at both games.”

“It is pretty complicated.” Milo laughed. “But I assure you this is the easiest plan I could’ve concocted.”

Diaz and Priscilla turned to each other and blinked with a matching dumbfounded expression. Just the idea of having to plan for every tiny possible detail hurt Diaz’s head. I chuckled.

“You and me both, buddy,” I said aloud to no one in particular since I was merely silent psychic energy.

“I’m going to take this to the MDC for storage.” Gladiatrix lifted the staff slightly and frowned at the idea of all the paperwork she’d have to file just to hand it off to someone to lock in evidence.

She wanted to toss it in with Amara and Wadsworth, but he’d refused to allow The True Witch to be near such a potent weapon despite being held by enough dampening magic to silence a hundred witches.

“I’m gonna call the misses,” Diaz said, retrieving his phone and strutting off with his familiar. “See if the twins are still up.”

“It’s like midnight.” Milo checked his own phone. “Your kids don’t have a bedtime?”

“They most certainly do,” Diaz shouted from afar. “Wasn’t talking about those twins.”

Milo had a quiet laugh as he stood on the street alone under the night lights of the city. He called out on his phone. The vibration startled me, pulling my psychic energy from him momentarily as I fished my phone out of my pocket.

“I know you have a thousand questions.”

“Try ten thousand.” I closed my eyes so I could focus my sight purely on him across town without the distraction of my bedroom.

“And we’ll talk soon, I promise. I’ve just got a million and one things to do. I mean, I’m already getting email notifications from every nation Amara has ever wronged, requesting her extradition.”

“Then why bring her here? Of all the places—”

“Nope.” Milo shushed me. “That’s one of your ten thousand questions for later.”

“By the time you answer them, I’ll have a hundred thousand questions.”

“And I’ll be fully recharged and able to answer a million.” Milo yawned, genuine exhaustion weighing on him. Or he’d done it to manipulate and guilt me since he already knew I was hovering nearby in my extended telepathy form. “We’ll talk soon, I promise. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork first and then some case files to check in on with my acolytes, and I just need a few days to decompress. Don’t worry, though.”

I wouldn’t worry. Or I’d do my best not to worry. At the very least, I was grateful to have Milo home, close to me.