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Chapter Text

Hunter pushed his way through the tangle of bushes that grew freely around the Owl Lady’s shack. It was a long, irritating trek from the castle and Hunter would have much preferred to use his staff for the journey, however, this particular mission required the utmost stealth and subtly—something his rather ostentatious staff didn’t provide. So, every Moansday, and Fearday, he woke up two hours earlier to sneak past the servants and guards, weave his way through the bumbling throng of overly chatty early-morning civilians, and poke and prod his way through a hexed forest that seemed to grow even denser with foliage each time he visited.

Hunter scowled to himself, narrowing his eyes as he stared across the clearing. Throughout his long tenure with the Emperor’s Coven, he’d had plenty of missions that were irritating, dangerous, even deadly, but none had ever carried such heavy personal and political ramifications as this particular job. The price of discovery was one he could not afford—but the penalty for not trying was greater still. The Owl Lady was his last hope.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he forced his expression into something more neutral and stepped out of the shadows. The sound of voices reached his ears even through the hut’s thick walls, and he raised an eyebrow at the young, feminine voice he heard from within. Since when did the Owl Lady receive visitors?

Before he could assess the situation further, the Owl Lady’s house demon caught sight of him. The weird bird-tube thing lit up the way he did every time, a smile curving over his beak, as if Hunter were a dear personal friend. He didn’t bother holding back a groan as the house demon stretched forward.

“Hoooot! Caleb, it’s so great to see you! I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever, hoot, hoot!” The demon creaked as he moved closer, not stopping until he was less than an inch from Hunter’s face. He wriggled his body in what Hunter could only assume was excitement and Hunter couldn’t help but roll his eyes, even as he sidestepped the creature.

“It’s been two days, bird-tube,” he sneered. Honestly, the Owl Lady was one of the most fiscally secure criminals on the Boiling Isles. Couldn’t she invest in a security system that was less annoying?

“So, you’ve been counting the days too!” The demon gasped dramatically, a beaming smile crossing his face. “I knew it! You missed our stalwart companionship, our long, thought-provoking talks, our silly hijinks and craaazzy adventures!”

“Have you gotten into the hard apple blood again? It’s 6:40 in the morning.”

“You missed me! You’re just too stubborn to admit it! But it’s ok, Caleb. A bond like ours transcends the need for mere words, hoot!” Hunter’s ears twitched, swiveling back at the low rush of wind. He spun on a dime, swinging his foot in a wide arc. The heel of his boot crashed into the side of the demon’s face, causing him to draw back suddenly, fat tears appearing in his eyes.

“Ow! That really hurt! Hoot!”

“Don’t care,” Hunter grunted, lowering his leg, but not daring to relax his battle stance, even for a moment. “You know the rules, bird-tube. I have to play nice, but if you try to trap me, all bets are off. Not even the Owl Lady can save you then.”

“It was a hug, not a trap! Why won’t you let me love you?!” The demon wailed dramatically, tears flying from his eyes as he threw his head back and forth. “Why are all my friends so punch-y and kick-y today?!”

“Hey! What in the Demon Realm is going on out here?!”

Hunter turned to see the Owl Lady standing in the doorway, one hand on her hip and an impressive scowl on her face. All of which might have been very intimidating if she hadn’t also been wearing stained, rumpled pajamas and even rattier looking bunny slippers. “I thought we talked about this. No trying to kill each other before I’ve had my apple blood.”

Hunter opened his mouth, prepared to argue that the demon had been trying to hug-trap him again and that this was very clearly a case of self-defense on his part, but an eager gasp interrupted his argument before he could present it.

“Whoa! Witch-boy!” Suddenly, a civilian was standing in front of him, studying his face with the intense, wide-eyed kind of adoration that was typically only reserved for his other persona. “Hi! It’s nice to meet you! I’m Luz Noceda, Eda’s new apprentice.” She stuck her hand out then, and Hunter immediately took several steps back, crossing his own arms over his chest. Even if it wasn’t insanely dangerous for her to touch him…

“You’re a human,” he identified easily, his gaze trailing the round curves of her ears. Her smile only widened, though she thankfully lowered her hand.

“Yep, that’s me. Luz the human! And you are…?”

“Annoyed,” he answered honestly, unable to help the slight spike of vindication he felt when her smile started to fade.

The Owl Lady snorted into her mug, peering at them both over the rim. “That’s Caleb,” she told the human. “My original minion. We have a similar arrangement to the one you and I have, only instead of learning how to be a witch, I pay him top snails for his services.”

“You pay me 3 snails an hour less than the minimum wage,” Hunter sneered, silently making note of the information he had learned. A human who wanted to be a witch? That was worth keeping an eye on.

“And you agreed to it, so who’s the real chump here?” The Owl Lady needled, shooting him a cocky smirk as she spun on her heel and headed back to the shack. “Come along, minions. I have too many errands to pawn off on you and not enough time in the day to do it.”

“…She’s probably just kidding about that whole ‘minion’ thing,” the human said optimistically.

Hunter only sighed.

The Owl Lady led the two of them up to one of the balconies, chattering inanely with the human about her businesses and the type of work the human would be expected to do to ‘earn her witch’s staff’. Hunter nearly choked on air when he heard that claim—no one, not even the second most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles could force a Palismen bond. And who had ever heard of a Palismen choosing to bond with a human? The very idea was absurd. Still, Hunter wisely kept his mouth shut until they arrived at the spire overlooking Bonesborough. The Owl Lady gestured to the settlement.

“Today, Luz, you’ll be delivering packages to that town over there: Bonesborough. You’ll need to be careful; I have rivals everywhere who’d love to take my business down and you along with it. You wanted a dangerous magical quest? Sister, you got one.”

The human gave a confident grin, saluting her ‘mentor’. “I won’t let you down, Miss Eda.” As she turned, the bag bumped against the wall and fell from her grip, crashing to the ground.

Hunter snickered as the Owl Lady slanted a very unimpressed look in the human’s direction. “I’m sure.” With a heavy sigh, she grabbed the human by the shoulders and began pushing her back through the house. As the Owl Lady rattled off her last few pearls of insanity, Hunter heard the soft pitter-patter of claws on the carpet. He gave a low scoff, careful to breathe through his mouth as the last inhabitant of the Owl House turned the corner.

“Weh? What’s going on? Don’t tell me Eda’s putting you to work already.”

“Yep, I’m going to deliver some packages and earn my witch’s staff!” The human cheered, reaching down to pet the little gremlin like he was a dog. “Then I’ll be one step closer to becoming the first ever human witch!”

“I dunno know why you’d want to be a witch.” The Owl Lady’s pet grumbled, leaning into the human’s touch before seeming to remember himself and quickly scurrying over to a chest by the door. He climbed onto it and held out his claws menacingly. “It’s much better to be the terrifying King of Demons any day!”

The human giggled, but Hunter narrowed his eyes in irritation. “You are not the ‘King of Demons,’” he spat. “There’s no such position.”

The little furball pouted. “Well, not now, Jerkface. But there used to be. Tell ‘im, Eda!”

“Oooh boy,” the Owl Lady blustered. A smile stretched over her mouth that was too wide, too bright, to be anything but a lie. “Well, that sounds like an excellent arguem—I mean, topic for discussion. Why don’t you kids talk about it while you help Luz deliver those potions.” She pushed the three of them out the door with a playful wave. “Bye now. Be back by nightfall, and if you get eaten, make sure who ever it is reimburses my merchandise!”

Hunter scowled. “Wait just a second, I never agreed to—”

The door slammed shut in his face and Hunter groaned low as he turned to glare at the filthy little rat. “For the record, I blame you for this.”

“Me?” The furball squeaked indignantly. “You’re the one who started the whole thing! All you had to do was agree with me, is that so hard?”

“It is when you’re wrong,” Hunter grunted, turning to track the human as she bent down to pick up the bag of elixirs. “Which, to be absolutely fair, is most of the time.”

“Oh, that is it! You wanna start something, Jerkface? You ‘n me, right here, right now! Let’s go!” The rat yapped, jumping around Hunter like an over-excited Cerberus pup and balling his claws into fists.

Hunter smirked, turning his most patronizing stare on the little furball. “You really sure you wanna go down that road, rat?”

“Why you—!” The furball lunged at Hunter and might have even made it as high as his stomach had the human not snagged him by his collar at the last possible second.

“Whoa, whoa!”

“Luz!” The Owl Lady’s pet twisted in the human’s hold, reaching up to pry ineffectively at her fingers. “Lemme go! I won’t hurt him…much!”

“Guys, c’mon,” the human whined, glancing between the two of them. “Look, Eda gave me a job to do, and I need both of you to help me do it. Please?”

The rat stopped squirming and tilted his head curiously. “You need both of us to help you deliver packages?”

“Yes! Don’t you get it? This is exactly like The Good Witch Azura! A plucky young heroine destined for greatness—”

“Which I assume by the intensity of your tone and your dramatic, but ultimately weak battle stance, refers to you?” Hunter questioned, raising an eyebrow at the way the human positioned her feet inward instead of out and puffed out her chest proudly. If that was her idea of rooting herself, he sincerely hoped she never needed to actually fight for her life.

“Off on an epic quest of courage and danger, desperate to prove her worth and save the world, regardless of the personal cost—”

“You’re gonna save the world by peddlin’ Eda’s snake oil?” The rat blinked. “What, are we gonna be attacked by giant, crusty snakes?”

“With only the faithful presence of her two best friends at her side!”

Hunter shared a glance with the rat. “Are all humans this delusional nowadays?”

“I think it’s just her,” the furball whispered back. “But I haven’t met a lot of humans. Maybe the whole species is cuckoo bananas.”

“We are not!” The human lowered the Owl Lady’s pet back to the ground, before whirling around to point dramatically at the sky. “I’ll prove it to you! Don’t worry, I’ve read every Azura book to date, including the short, but very crucial, spin-off series from the early 2010s! I know exactly what to do! Get ready Boiling Isles, cause we’re about to rock your world!” She heaved the bag over one shoulder with a grunt, muttering something about ‘weak nerd arms’, and stalked off triumphantly.

“So…I guess we should follow her?” Hunter asked as he watched her breech the dense forest.

“Only if you don’t want her to get eaten,” the rat replied.

Up ahead, one Clinging Vine reached out to press against the side of the bag, attaching itself with a sickening slurp. The human yelped as she was suddenly pulled off her feet. As she regained her balance and began arguing with the plant for possession of the bag, Hunter just shrugged.

“Eh.”

Chapter Text

By the time they retrieved the bag, traversed the hexed forest, and made their way to Bonesborough proper, Hunter was beginning to seriously reevaluate his life choices—specifically, the ones which had led him to becoming a door-to-door scaresman with what had to be the most talkative human in either realm.

“So, anyway, that’s the story of how I escaped the Conformatorium, King got a new fluffy friend—”

“Minion!!” The rat screeched from his perch on the human’s shoulder.

“Right, sorry. A new fluffy minion for his demon army, and Eda narrowly avoided a relationship that was draped in so many red flags, it would have made a bull muy loco. Oh, and got her head cut off, but that part was only temporary.”

Hunter sighed; he’d have to update the Owl Lady’s file when he got back to the castle. And probably start one for the human by the sound of it—she was already shaping up to be trouble. Not the most surprising thing for someone who had chosen the Owl Lady for a mentor, but still.

(He’d also have to see about starting a new investigation into Warden Wrath’s arrest record—as strange as eating your own eyeballs and writing fanfic about food love was, neither was technically illegal. Blatant abuse of authority and sexual harassment, on the other hand…)

“Ooh, wanna hear about the time I tried to create the first ever three ring rat circus? Hernandez Jr.  was an absolute angel on the trapeze! We totally would have won the Gravesfield Pet Show if Polly hadn’t left her cat’s cage open.”

“No, thanks,” Hunter said flatly. “We should focus on delivering the Owl Lady’s potions so we can get back as soon as possible.”

“Hate to break it to ya, Jerkface, but Eda just gave us this job to get us outta her hair for a few hours. Nobody around here really wants to buy her Boil-B-Gone juice.” The furball bent over the human’s shoulder to root around in the sack, emerging with a bottle of grey, thin liquid a moment later. “I mean, look at this stuff. Would you pay good snails for something that looks this bad?” He took an experimental whiff. “Ugh, and smells even worse! P.U.!” He quickly clamped one claw over his nose and stuffed the vial back in the bag.

“What? Pfff, c’mon, King. There’s no way that’s true. Eda sent us on this quest because it’s going to teach us valuable skills that will one day save our lives in a terrible battle of good vs. evil. Right, Caleb?”

“Human, what about this mission—er, errand—could possibly make you think that the Owl Lady is trying to teach you battle tactics, of all things?” Hunter gestured around them at the myriad assortment of witches and demons going about their day.

“Well, uh,” the human glanced down the street, yelping slightly when one of the giant Drendous demons hopped up to a smaller harpy demon (his wife, if Hunter wasn’t mistaken), shot out his tongue, and pulled her into the pouch underneath his jaw. “M-maybe Eda’s testing our courage?” The human offered with a shiver. “So, that when the time comes, she’ll know we will stand bravely upon the field of battle without fear.”

Hunter shook his head as they passed a Not Dog cart, and the rat perked up suddenly, his attention drawn by the smell of cheap, rubbery jumping spiders. “Just so long as we don’t have to stand on the battlefield without food. Luz, buy me a Not Dog; I’m famished!”

“Didn’t you have, like, a whole bowl of mac ‘n cheese this morning?” The human questioned as she stepped up to the cart.

“What’s a ‘mac’? Some kinda human organ? We ate leftover cheesy eyes this morning. And that was a whole thirty minutes ago! I’m wasting away here!”

Hunter watched as the human’s eyes grew to the size of dinnerplates and a peculiar green discoloration crept across her face. He’d never seen that expression on a human before.

“We ate what?!”

Maybe she was allergic.

Eventually, after the furball scarfed down his snack and the human finished emptying the contents of her stomach into the only trash receptacle without teeth, Hunter managed to push the two of them into being semi-proper delivery-ghouls. Under his leadership, they visited 23 houses, spoke with 47 civilians, and sold half a cupful of Boil-B-Gone to two feuding warts on the end of a man’s nose. The human nearly perished four times, the rat nearly died six (only three of which could technically be considered Hunter’s fault), and by the end of it, the two of them nearly collapsed on the curb, completely exhausted from…walking around a lot? Pushing bottles in people’s faces?

Hunter stared down at the two of them, unable to curb the curiosity in his voice. “What’s the matter with you two? Get up, we aren’t done yet!”

“Dude, c’mon,” the human groaned. “Give us a break. I nearly lost my arm ringing that one guy’s doorbell.”

“But you didn’t. So, on your feet, human! The sooner we finish selling the Owl Lady’s sub-par tonics, the sooner we can get back to the sha—ah, Owl House.”

The rat squinted up at him. “Why do you wanna go back to the Owl House so bad, anyway?” He questioned, suspicion lacing every word. “Eda’s gonna pay you the same whether you work there or here.”

Hunter felt the tips of his ears starting to burn under the furball’s skeptical stare. He forced his expression into something distant and haughty but couldn’t quite keep his voice as steady as he wished. “N-none of your business, rat! I just don’t like…fresh air. That’s all.”

Now both of them were staring at him as if he’d just grown a third arm. Fan-freaking-tastic. He kept his face cool and detached, looking down on them as if they were so far beneath him, they’d have to walk on clouds just to touch him. The two of them shared a glance and it took every ounce of Hunter’s training not to cringe. He had not spent the past two months worming his way into the Owl House just to have all of his careful planning undone by a human and the Owl Lady’s pet rat!

“Seriously,” he tried again. “Get up. Don’t you want to…I don’t know, finish your triumphant quest and master the skills of, uh, pushy double-talk and pretentious emotional manipulation? Or whatever.”

The human pulled herself into a seated position. “I dunno,” she sighed, staring despondently at the ground. “I’m starting to think you and King were right. This feels less like the kind of magical adventure I’ve always dreamed about and more like Eda just getting me to do her work for her. I thought being the only human in a magical world would make me different—in a good way, this time—but so far, it’s just made everyone want to run from me or eat me.”

“Ugh,” Hunter groaned. “Feelings.”

The human’s frown grew, and she curled into herself even further. Hunter cleared his throat quickly. “Uh, I mean, don’t be so hard on yourself?  Most people around here will eat anything that moves; trust me, you’re not that special.”

Her expression crumbled and Hunter quickly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Ok, that came out wrong! What I meant was—”

“No,” she cut him off, sniffling as she stood up. “You’re right. I’m not special. This isn’t some enchanted magical quest and I’m no Azura. I’m just Luz.” She picked up the sack and started to trudge down a nearby alleyway. “Let’s just finish up and get back to the Owl House.”

“Luz!” The furball cried, jumping to his feet. “Don’t listen to Jerkface, he’s an idiot! And a jerk! Luz?”

The human ignored him, pushing through a tattered curtain, only to gasp loudly just as soon as she crossed the threshold. “But maybe I spoke too soon. Guys! You have to see this!”

“Is it another video of a cat with human lips?” The rat called warily. “Cause I still haven’t recovered from the last one you showed me!” He shuddered, glancing up at Hunter. “I’m telling ya, Jerky, that’s the stuff nightmares are made of.”

“Just get over here!”

“Nightmares,” the furball mouthed, before racing off to follow the human. Hunter shook his head but reluctantly made his way down the alley as well. The human had probably just found an abandoned gryphon chick or something. But if whatever it was distracted her from her disappointment (at least until Hunter was far enough away to not have to deal with it), then he wouldn’t complain. Besides, a baby gryphon couldn’t possibly be as annoying as the furball.

Hunter had several complaints. First, something about this Adagast character set him on edge. If he ‘ran a small potion business on the side’, why would he waste time with one of Eda’s dubious elixirs? Why did he feel the need to speak so softly and stroke his beard so often? Perhaps he was just naturally that soft-spoken and the beard thing was some sort of nervous tic or self-soothing response…but Hunter doubted it. Something about the way Adagast moved, the way he latched on to the human’s doubts and encouraged her delusions reminded him a little too much of the courtiers back at the castle, who would fawn and flatter those above them in public but spin vicious lies and rumors and cast even crueler spells in private.

And that wasn’t even touching on the ‘prophecy of a young human girl’ bit, either. Hunter had read every book in the Imperial Library at least twice, including those in the Restricted section. He had studied a plethora of journal articles and texts on every school of magic available including the Oracle track. He made it a point to personally keep abreast of any prophecies that might affect the Emperor or the Boiling Isles as a whole and Coven Head Osran himself was under strict orders to report to the Golden Guard immediately if he ever had a vision that he believed held even the slightest political significance. A human being able to claim a magical artifact from an enchanted pool would have certainly fit that bill.

So, if Luz was the chosen one, why had Hunter heard about it for the first time from a ‘creepy old man in jim-jams’?

He frowned, watching as the human laid the Owl Lady’s poorly constructed, talking training sword across her lap.

“Ah, I’m so excited! What kind of Chosen One should I be? Maybe an optimistic, inspirational Chosen One, like the Good Witch Azura? Ooh, or, how about a bad girl Chosen One with black nail polish and a mysteriously withdrawn attitude. I think I could totally pull that one off; what do you guys think?”

“I think your human sleep cocoon feels even better balled up like this,” the rat yawned as he kneaded the top of the bedroll. “You should leave it like this tonight. Comfy.” He turned around a couple times, curling his tail until the tip flopped over the bridge of his nose.

“Not about the bed, King. About me being the Chosen One! I knew I was meant for something important! I just have to decide the kind of hero I want to be.” She cast a teasing glance at Hunter. “Although maybe I should leave the ‘bad boy’ trope to the professionals, right Caleb?”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what a ‘trope’ is, but I assure you, I’m no more a ‘bad boy’ then you are a ‘chosen one’.”

“Pffft, whatever you say, Mr. I-act-like-I-don’t-care-but-I-secretly-do. And f-y-information, I am the Chosen One, remember? Adagast said.”

“He also said you were supposed to find a ‘Celestial Staff’ from a ‘magical pool’.”

The human pouted. “Dude, I can hear you making finger quotes. What’s the big deal? It’s your standard Hero Goes On An Epic Journey of Self-Discovery To Find A Magical Thingamabob. And since you and King are coming, there’s even a side plot of Hero Wins With The Power Of Friendship. C’mon, you can’t tell me you’re not a little excited about that.” She grinned at him, but he only stared impassively back.

“The big deal is you can’t even see how badly you’re being played. Adagast is using you. I just haven’t figured out why. I mean, strategically speaking, it makes no sense. You can’t fight, you have no magic, and you’re about as threatening as a baby kitten. What could he want from you?”

“He wants me to find the staff. Obviously,” the human insisted. “That’s it. There’s no—” she gestured vaguely. “—Ominous secret motive or hidden meaning. He’s just a wise old wizard in need of a Chosen One to find his staff.” She picked up the defective training sword and pointed it valiantly at Hunter. “And I am just the Chosen One to find it.”

“You are an idiot. And good luck beating anything with that sorry excuse of a weapon.”

The human frowned, lowering her—seriously, Hunter couldn’t in good conscious even call that a blade. Whatever. She lowered it until the point grazed the floorboards, staring at him with hurt eyes. “You don’t think I can do it?”

The rat opened one eye, glaring at Hunter from the top of the bedroll. “Don’t answer that. That’s how we got into this mess in the first place.”

“If this was a real mission to reclaim a lost artifact? No. You’d have died at least four times by now, ten if you took the rat—”

“Hey! Three of those instances were your fault!”

“—and that’s probably before ever making it out of Bonesborough. But it doesn’t really matter considering Adagast is lying through his teeth!”

 “Actually, I think it matters very much!” The human retorted hotly, clutching the map in her hand as she glared at Hunter. “One of my friends doesn’t even believe me! What could be more important than that?”

“How about the fact that,” Hunter held up a finger, “one: there’s no such thing as a Celestial Staff, two: there has never at any point been a prophecy of any kind regarding a human in the Boiling Isles, and three: that map is clearly fake.”

“It is not!”

Hunter glanced down at the crumpled paper. “The ink is bleeding onto your hands as we speak.”

The human glanced down, only to scowl even further when she saw the smudges of blue and black staining her fingers. “So? It’s old, of course the ink is starting to fade! That doesn’t mean anything!”

Hunter groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. This girl was infuriating! “Why won’t you listen to me? I’m from this world, remember? I know how it works—you don’t. And I’m telling you, Adagast is plotting something.”

“What could that sweet old man possibly be up to?”

“I. Don’t. Know.” Hunter ground out, barely resisting the urge to throw his hands up like an overly dramatic new recruit. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out, if you would just—”

“Well, if you don’t know, then why are you accusing him? Do you even have any actual proof?”

“I told you—”  

The human nodded. “Sí, sí you’ve never heard of the Celestial Staff or the Chosen One prophecy—but that just proves how true it is! Don’t you get it? There’s always someone in the book who doubts the hero and questions her power. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a good story.”

“This isn’t a story, human! It’s real life. Your life!”

“Exactly!” Her scowl faded, replaced by a bright smile and—wait, were those literal stars in her eyes? “My life changed forever when I stepped through that portal. I’ve always felt different from everyone in Gravesfield. Now, I know why! I’m destined for greatness! Just like Azura!” She picked up the ‘sword’ and sheathed it in an equally flimsy-looking scabbard, which she swung over her back. “Look, at the end of the day it’s my quest and my decision. I’m going. What I want to know is are you two coming with me?”

The furball sighed; a long, pitiful, dramatic noise that Hunter absolutely did not roll his eyes at. “I mean,” he groused. “You did kinda help Eda and me break into the Conformatorium to get my crown back—even if Eda’s stupid boyfriend crushed it—so I guess fair is fair. But you do all the walking and I get to nap on your shoulders all the way there!”

“Deal!” The human pumped her fist and scooped up the Owl Lady’s pet in a bone-crushing hug-trap. “Gracias, King. You’re the best! Caleb?” She smiled at him as the furball draped himself around the back of her neck.

Hunter shook his head. “You’re being played for a fool, human. And you’re right, it is your decision. But I have a job to do here. I can’t tag along just to pull you out of trouble because you can’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality.”

The human’s smile vanished in an instant and if Hunter didn’t know better, he could have sworn some of the light in the room faded with it. “You know, you sound like my mom.”

Hunter lofted an eyebrow, ignoring the way his stomach lurched at the human’s low tone. “I’ll take that for a compliment; she sounds very wise. Perhaps you should listen to her advice more often.”

A sheen of moisture appeared in her eyes, but she didn’t let the budding tears fall. Instead, pressing her lips into a resolute line, she nodded once and shuffled to the door, her posture suddenly devoid of the enthusiastic energy she had portrayed only moments before. Hunter shuffled aside to let her pass, tracking her until she turned the corner and disappeared from his sight.

He didn’t know how, but suddenly he couldn’t shake the horrible, sinking feeling that he had made everything so much worse.

Chapter Text

Luz stood at the edge of Bonesborough, her face frozen in a confident grin. This was it! Her first mythical quest! The start of her hero’s journey! Everything she’d ever hoped for was waiting for her just beyond the city limits; she just had to go out and find it!

So why did it suddenly feel like her feet were glued to the ground? Why did her arms seem to prickle with goosebumps and her upper lip bead with a nervous sweat?

Why, no matter how hard she tried not to, could she still hear Caleb’s voice, frustrated and stern and taunting in her ears?

“This isn’t a story, human! It’s real life.”

“Adagast is plotting something!”

“I can’t tag along just to pull you out of trouble because you can’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality.”

She shook her head resolutely, trying to dislodge the memory of the witch-boy’s accusations. Caleb was wrong. He had to be! This was a world of magic and fairies and good witches like Eda and Azura. Even if some parts of this place were a little more…intense than most of the books and movies she’d seen. It was still a magic world full of magical people and Luz had been the one to discover it! That had to mean she was destined for something important!

Right?

King cracked an eye open, yawning so widely his jaw popped. “Having second thoughts?”

“No way!” Luz blustered. “Why would I? This is going to be everything I’ve ever dreamed of!” She grinned, wide and toothily. King tilted his head, watching her.

“’Cause, if you wanna go back home, I’m ok with that. Your shoulders are kinda bony and the couch is a lot more comfortable for midday naps.”

“We’re not going back, King!” To prove it, she gathered her courage and pulled her feet loose from whatever invisible glue was holding them down. King squawked as they slid down the sloping cliff, landing softly on the ground below. “See?” She queried, reaching up to pet the small king of demons. “We’re gonna find the Celestial Staff and prove Caleb and Mamí and everyone at school wrong about me!” 

King shifted uneasily on her shoulder as they started walking through a dense purple fog. Funny, Luz didn’t remember seeing a mysterious fog when she was on top of the hill. “Look,” the adorable tyrant said after a few seconds. “I’m all for making Jerkface look like an idiot. Between you and me, he kinda deserves it. But, I don’t know, Luz. I think maybe he might have been right about this one. Maybe we should go back.”

“Would you stop?” Luz raised her totally epic sword, using it to slice through some of the vines that had crossed over their path. And Caleb thought it wouldn’t be useful! See? He was wrong already! “We’re gonna be fine. We have the map and the Sword of Skullgar and we have the greatest weapon of all.” Luz waggled her eyebrows playfully.

“We do? What’s that? I thought you just brought that dumb talking stick.”

“I also brought…. the power of friendship!” Luz cheered, pulling King from her shoulder, and smooshing him against her chest.

“Ah, no!” King squirmed in her hold, flailing his arms and kicking his feet as he struggled to get free. “Release me from your one-armed squish attack, human!”

Luz chuckled, letting him go. King pouted. “I’m on your side! Save your dumb friendship squishes for the bad guys!”

“Ok, ok. I will,” Luz promised. As she raised the sword to slice through another vine, a thought occurred to her. “Hey, King. Why do you think Caleb was so sure Adagast couldn’t be trusted? I mean, it wasn’t like he had any proof or anything. He said so himself.”

“Eh, it’s Jerkface,” King sneered, hoping over a log only to get caught halfway. He wiggled his back end furiously, scrambling with his claws until the momentum finally sent him crashing to the ground. Luz bit back a giggle as he glowered at the offending log. “He doesn’t really trust anyone.”

“Really?” Luz frowned. “That…sounds kind of sad, actually. And lonely. I can’t imagine what that would be like, to not have anyone on your side.” At least she knew Mamí cared about her, even if she didn’t always understand…or want to understand. “Doesn’t he have any family or friends he can turn to?”

King scratched the side of skull. “I dunno. If he does, he’s never mentioned them to us. But then, Jerkface is kinda a mystery all the way around.”

“What do you mean?”

“He just kinda showed up at the market one day, y’know?” King shrugged, pressing closer to Luz when giant bullfrog (with actual horns and a cow nose!) glared at him from the weeds and puffed out its throat-sac. “Said he needed a part-time job, and he was willing to negotiate salary. And you know Eda’s always on the lookout for cheap labor. Between that and how scruffy the kid looked, it’s really no surprise she let him help out in her booth. Though, personally, I think she shoulda just kept him working at the marketplace. There was no need to let him come back to the Owl House.”

“You’re sure you don’t know anything else? Nothing about his home life or where he goes when he’s not working for Eda?”

“Not a clue. I did ask Eda once, after he showed up at the house for first time—well, actually, I asked her if she really thought it was a good idea to let some jerk of a stranger into the house when she’s got a bounty on her head that’s probably worth more than all of Bonesborough. She just laughed and said not to worry about it.”

“I’m not worried,” Luz declared, waving her sword around to dispel the fog. “I’m intrigued. Mysterious witch-boy with a mysterious backstory? It’s the stuff epic stories are made out of! As soon as we get back to the Owl House—and I show off my awesome new staff—I’m gonna see about wheedling out all of Caleb’s secrets!”

“You really think you can? I’ve been trying for months! This guy plays his Hexas Hold’em cards waaay too close to his chest.”

“Of course I can! I’m an expert detective!” Luz tossed the sword in the air confidently, only to yelp and pull her hand back at the last second when it came back down blade-first. The weapon bounced against a rock and ricocheted deeper into the fog. She chuckled sheepishly. “I, uh, meant to do that.”

“Right…”

Luz managed a nervous smile and darted deeper into the mist. She found the sword easily, but as she stood up her eyes widened in delight. A tiny, sprawling…town probably wasn’t the right word for it. It was even smaller than Bonesborough. Community, maybe? Neighborhood? Enchanted suburb, perhaps. Whatever it was, it was bright and shining and fairylike in a way even the Owl House hadn’t been. It was all soft colors and shimmering lights and the gentle quiver of a golden harp. Luz’s breath caught in her throat. This—this was the beautiful, wonderful world she’d been looking for!

She spun in a circle as she walked, wanting to make sure she saw everything. King trudged out of the forest behind her, eyes squinted and claws batting at the fading smoke. “Luz! Don’t leave me like that, it’s really hard to see…in this…fog?” The tiny demon’s eyes grew wide in his face as he took in the majestic view. “Uh, Luuuz?”

“King!” Luz smiled and waved him over. He darted to her side, scrambling up her legs and over her back until he was perched on her shoulder once more. “Isn’t it amazing? Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your entire life?”

“No!” King snapped, pulling nervously at the collar of her hoodie. “I haven’t, so let’s get out of here!”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Me and Eda have left Bonesborough a bunch of times. We’ve flown all over the area. Luz, I’m telling you, I’ve never seen this place before. Like ever! It doesn’t exist!”

“How can it not exist? We’re standing right in the middle of it! See, there’s town hall, and there’s the fountain, and there’s—ohmigosh!”

“Oh, no.”

Rising out of the glistening water was a tall, muscular witch with deep raven hair and the start of a scruffy, roguish beard. Drops of water twinkled like diamonds as they fell from his chiseled arms and he watched Luz with one distant hazel eye, the other obscured by a rakish, yet debonair eyepatch. “I see,” he said by way of greeting as he stepped out of the fountain. “So, you’re the Chosen One. Heh. The Celestial Staff should have picked me: Neverreth Bladestrife, teen Prince of Angstmoore.”

“Oh, I definitely made the right choice coming here,” Luz whispered as she stared at the aloof, brooding teen in front of her.

“Uh, I’m not so sure about that,” King squeaked as Neverreth Bladestrife turned a distant, appraising gaze on them both.

Luz only grinned, trembling slightly in her excitement, and reached out to touch the creepy boy.

Hunter rummaged through the Owl Lady’s disordered collection of knickknacks and tchotchkes, muttering under his breath as he tossed aside broken crystal balls and torn, faded sweaters. “Either the Owl Lady is a strategic genius, or she’s the biggest pack-roach in the Boiling Isles.” He ripped open another box, only to wrinkle his nose in disgust at the shattered, sticky bottles of Apple Blood and shredded tiny plastic humans and—wait. Were those actual rat skulls? He scoffed, slamming the lid closed and shoving the box far into the back corner of the basement. “Ok, definitely not a genius. Think, Caleb. If you were a deranged wild witch dependent on an illegal elixir to maintain control but had to keep said dependence a secret from your co-inhabitants, where would you hide it?”

There was, of course, no answer from the shelves of chipped statues and melted rain boots and weird black boxes that only seemed to reflect Hunter’s own glowing, irritated stare back at him. He groaned, slumping against the towering bookcases. “Apparently not down here. What a colossal waste of ti—” His ears flicked back just in time to catch the soft, nearly silent rustle of feathers in the air. He snapped his mouth shut, turning to see the Owl Lady’s Palisman fly through the door and land neatly on one of the boxes by the stairs. Eda wants to know if you and Luz are done organizing the basement yet. The owl tilted its head, looking around the room curiously. Wait, where is Luz? Isn’t she supposed to be helping you?

Hunter very carefully did not twitch at the mention of the human. He did, however, narrow his eyes slightly, not quite able to curb his distaste for the creature in front of him. “Palisman. Was there something you wanted, or did your master just send you down to spy on me?”

The owl’s own beady black eyes narrowed in turn, and it puffed out its feathers in an attempt to make itself bigger. Eda is my witch, not my master. We’re friends…though I understand how you’re probably not familiar with the term. 

Hunter almost scowled but caught himself at the last second. A rebuttal burned on the tip of his tongue, and he quickly turned away, busing himself with the mindless task of shuffling the Owl Lady’s garbage from one shelf to the other. “I have no idea what you’re saying,” he bit out as soon as he could trust his own voice again. “In case you’ve forgotten, only a bonded witch can understand their Palisman.”

There was no verbal response from the bird, but Hunter could hear the soft flap of its wings and the sound of something thudding against cardboard. After a few minutes, the Palisman hooted for him to turn around. Hunter debated ignoring the call, but much like its witch, the owl had proven a tenacious adversary in the past. If Hunter resisted, the vexing creature would likely find a way to force him to engage, and Hunter didn’t particularly want to get into a fistfight with a magic bird today. Swallowing back a good portion of his irritation, he bent down to pick up one of the boxes, turning around to face the Palisman under the guise of moving it to the other side of the room.

Written on the lid of the owl’s container—in screws and springs and tiny limbs that Hunter hoped were fake—was a simple question: Where is Luz? He clenched his jaw, marching past the box without a word to drop his own burden none too gently in the corner of the room. The Palisman hooted again, and Hunter snarled a curse under his breath. “What, am I suddenly the human’s keeper? She ran off somewhere not long after we finished peddling the Owl Lady’s potions.”

The Palisman began rearranging its scraps into another question. Hunter groaned and held up his hand. “Let me save you some time. If you’re about to ask where she went, I don’t know.” I have a pretty strong suspicion, but I don’t actually know… “She ran off into the forest somewhere.”

The owl tilted its head, hooting again. Hunter licked his lips carefully. “If you’re asking what she was doing,” he said slowly, “I don’t know that either. She said something about a magical quest?” 

A magical quest to an imaginary enchanted lake to find an ancient relic that didn’t exist. But Hunter didn’t know anything about that.

More scrambling and rearranging, and then the owl hooted again. Against his better judgement, he peered at the message. Luz is new to the Isles. She could get hurt, or worse! How could you let her go alone? Why didn’t you tell Eda she left?

“Ok, exactly at what point did she become my responsibility? Because I definitely don’t remember there being anything about babysitting a human in the deal I made with your witch.” Hunter ran his fingers through his hair, turning his back on the Palisman and stalking off in a random direction. This lasted approximately three seconds, before he spun around and prowled back. “And another thing! I tried to tell her she was being played, ok? It’s not my fault she didn’t want to listen! And besides, she’s not even from the Boiling Isles, so I don’t even really owe her my protection in the first place!”

The Palisman blinked and hastily began hopping around to spell out a new question, but Hunter no longer had the patience to wait for whatever inquiry or accusation it wanted to throw his way. He paced back and forth, flexing his fingers agitatedly. He’d made the right choice, not following the human. Obviously, he had. She was a moron to believe Adagast in the first place and besides, he had his own mission to worry about. A mission whose outcome was far more important than the wellbeing of a single human. The Emperor was counting on him.

He reached the bookcases, then turned smartly on his heel and began again, his gait unconsciously falling into a parade march as his mind whirled with unbidden thoughts. It didn’t matter that the human was alone in a strange world she didn’t understand or that she had no one except the rat to turn to for aid. It didn’t matter that she had been nothing but kind to him since the moment they’d met, even if the phrase ‘too talkative’ didn’t seem to exist in her vocabulary. It didn’t matter that some of her stories had actually been pretty funny, or that her weird brand of optimistic determination was almost, almost admirable, in a bizarre recklessly naive kind of way. None of that mattered because the mission had to come first. The Owl Lady’s elixir was his last chance to save the Emperor—to save his uncle. And Uncle would always, always be Hunter’s first priority, no matter what.

He bit the inside of his cheek, glancing back at the Owl Lady’s endless assembly of worthless artifacts. The mission had to come first…but, statistically speaking, the likelihood of locating the elixir in the middle of this dump was about the same as finding a newborn trash slug at the bottom of the Boiling Sea. Realistically, Hunter’s time would be better served searching in a more frequently utilized area of the house. But the Owl Lady would never allow him to rummage through her home at will, and certainly not in any area where she might actually have hidden the potion.

Unless she wasn’t here to stop him.

Unless she had something more important to focus her attention on. For example, trying to save her wayward apprentice from death and/or dismemberment, then Hunter would be able to track the cure down in a fraction of the time. The Owl Lady could save the human, Hunter could finally free his uncle, and no one would ever know that he had to fraternize with the enemy to do it. The Boiling Isles would be safe, and Hunter’s conscience would be clear.

Hunter smirked, bypassing the irate owl completely as he jogged up the stairs. The Palisman gave another frustrated hoot and dove after him, screeching all the way, but its aggravating voice only pushed him to move faster. He found the Owl Lady in the kitchen, sniffing curiously at a bowl of something that pulsed with a neon green light. She looked up when he entered and tilted the bowl in his direction. “Ah, I was hoping someone would show up and save me from having to try this. Hey, Caleb, do me a favor and let me know if you think this spaghoulie is expired—you know, assuming you don’t die first.”

“Even if I didn’t have more important things to worry about, still no,” Hunter sneered, shoving the rancid dish back toward the Owl Lady. “Ugh, seriously, how old is that spaghoulie?”

 “I dunno. I think it came with the fridge.” She shrugged, putting it back on the table. “Eh, I can always feed it to Hooty later—that crazy demon’ll eat anything.”

Hunter shook his head and cleared his throat, ready to launch into the rudimentary speech he had managed to cobble together on the way up from the basement. Before he could utter a syllable, however, the Palisman flew past him to land on the table, hooting baseless accusations at the top of its lungs.

Eda, Luz is missing!

Ok, less accusations, more straightforward facts. Whatever. The point was, Hunter didn’t appreciate having his grand conspiracy hijacked by a bird.

“Ok, ok.” The Owl Lady scooped the Palisman into her hands. “Calm down, Owlbert. What do you mean missing?”

The owl made to answer, but this time Hunter interjected before it could. “She headed off into the forest. Something about a magical quest and a Celestial Staff and her being the ‘chosen one’ destined to find it.”

The Owl Lady chortled. “You’re kidding? A celestial staff? There’s no such thing—if there was, I’d have stolen it ages ago!”

“Ok, thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!” Hunter huffed. “But the human would rather believe this hack Adagast, just because he matches the ‘wise old wizard’ tronk or whatever drivel she gets from that blasted Azura book.”

“Adagast?” The Owl Lady frowned, tempering the amusement in her eyes with a suspicious gleam. “Adagast…Adagast…I don’t recognize that name. Where’d you say you met him?”

“He was one of the clients on your list. Said he ran a potion business and was expecting a delivery from you, but he seemed more interested in feeding into the human’s starry-eyed delusions than actually getting anything.”

“Yeah, I don’t like the sound of that. Did Luz say anything when she left? Did she tell you where she was going?”

“Not…in so many words, no.”

“Well, how many words did she use?” The Owl Lady pressed. “And what were they?”

Hunter quickly weighed his options. On the one hand, he could keep feeding the Owl Lady bits and pieces of the story and hope that she would eventually get frustrated enough to go find answers on her own. This tactic would likely result in the ideal outcome of her assuming that he was too clueless to be of any help, thus leaving him free to search the search the house while she went off to save the human. On the other hand, the Owl Lady herself wasn’t exactly the sharpest sword in the armory. If they kept going around in circles like this, Hunter would have to return to the castle for his shift before he even had a chance to snoop around…and the longer they talked, the greater the chance that the human could come to serious harm. That thought was a little more sobering than it probably should have been.

Hunter grimaced and made his choice. “She may have been given a false map by Adagast, which might be intended to lead her to some enchanted pond to find that worthless hunk of wood.”

The Palisman swung its head around, staring up at Hunter with piercing eyes. You said you didn’t know where she went!

The Owl Lady frowned. “Caleb, Owlbert says you told him you didn’t know where Luz was going. Is that true?”

“Technically,” Hunter hedged, “since I didn’t go with her, it’s impossible for me to really know where she went—”

“Caleb!”

“Ok, fine! I know pretty much everything, you happy!?” He glowered at the cocky little wooden jerk. “I know where she’s most likely headed, I know why, I know that she wasn’t in the most…clearheaded mindset when she departed…” Not that Hunter had had anything to do with that. Surely not. And if the human ended up hurt because she was unable to put aside her emotions and focus on whatever problem she’d gotten herself into, then it was nothing more than the result of her own folly. Obviously. “And I know she didn’t actually go alone. The furball went with her. Really, the only thing I haven’t been able to figure out is the ‘why’ of all this. Specifically, why Adagast would go through so much effort to con someone who had never set foot on the Isles before yesterday.”

The Owl Lady nodded once. “Then that’s the next thing we have to figure out.” She opened her hands and the Palisman took flight, transforming into a staff midair, and falling back down to land neatly in the curl of the Owl Lady’s fingers. “C’mon, kid.” She mounted the staff and gestured for him to climb on behind. “Let’s hurry and track down this ‘wise old wizard’ before Luz gets herself into even more trouble.”

Hunter took a step backwards, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. “Absolutely not! She’s your apprentice, you track her down! I’ll stay here and watch the house.”

“I don’t think so. In the first place, I don’t exactly trust you not to burn the place down out of spite, and in the second place, I’m gonna need someone to tell me where to find this Adagast. And since King decided to run off with Luz, that makes you the lucky one.”

“I wouldn’t burn down your house!” Hunter retorted. Steal her elixir and report her location to the scouts, maybe, but destroy her personal property? Of course not! “What kind of a person do you think I am?”

The Owl Lady grinned, wide and sharp and taunting. “Da—arn, I wish you’d asked me that question earlier. When we have more time, remind me I get to insult you. Right now, though, we gotta go!”

Hunter shook his head, frowning stubbornly.

The Owl Lady sighed, her maniacal smile fading away. “Seriously, Caleb, we don’t have time for this. Luz could be in danger!”

“Why does everyone keep saying that like it’s my problem?” Hunter sneered back. It was his duty to protect the citizens of the Boiling Isles, not tourists from another realm!

“Because you knew that Luz left and didn’t say anything until after it was too late to stop her. Because you’re the only one who knows where Adagast is. Because I’m the one who pays you at the end of the week and I’m telling you it’s your problem now.” She rolled her eyes, her forehead wrinkled in a thin veneer of impatience, but Hunter saw the way her hands trembled around the staff, saw the concern in her eyes that she couldn’t quite mask. “Pick whatever excuse you want, kid, just get on the staff!”

Hunter smothered the groan that tried to crawl up from his throat. She wasn’t going to let this go, was she? Strategically, he had to admit it made sense—which honestly surprised him more than a little, considering this was the Owl Lady he was talking to. She must really care for this human. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Unfortunately, he did too the longer they argued about it the less time he had to try and find the potion. Maybe if he went along, he could at least get back in time to do a cursory search of the house. The Owl Lady would hopefully be too busy fussing over the human to pay any attention to him. “…Fine,” he grunted. “I’ll come. But we’re not going on that.” He gestured to the staff.

The Owl Lady frowned. “Flying’s faster than walking. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re kinda in a hurry!”

“So, go rent an airship. They’re just as fast, consistently result in safer travel compared to independent fliers, and—oh, yeah—not made of wild magic!”

“Rental ports are also crawling with coven scouts! I show my face in one of them, I’ll have to take down a whole pack of scouts just to walk back out again—which, ordinarily I wouldn’t mind, but again, kinda pressed for time here!”

Hunter narrowed his eyes. “First of all, patrol groups of scouts are referred to as a ‘company’—”

“NOT THE TIME!” The Owl Lady roared, glaring at Hunter as if she wanted to knock him out and steal the information from his memories right then and there. His fingers twitched and he shifted his weight into a more defensible position. If it came to a fight—

The Owl Lady sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her anger melted into irritation, still present, but tempered with something almost like regret. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. But dam-ang it, kid. I know you’re sold on the whole coven propaganda bit, but we don’t have time for the coven system: good/wild magic: bad schtick right now. I need you put aside whatever bunk your recruitment officer’s been feeding you and help me find Luz!”

“It’s illegal!” Hunter spat, not relaxing his stance in the slightest. Granted, invading the domain of an enemy of the empire under a false identity without informing anyone of that fact probably wasn’t the most by-the-book decision either, but there was a big difference between engaging in lawfully grey behaviors in the service of the empire and knowingly, willingly breaking the law for a cause that ultimately had nothing to do with the Emperor or his curse. Wild magic couldn’t be trusted anymore than wild witches could.

Hunter knew that better than anyone.

His resolve must have been written on his face, because the Owl Lady sighed a second time. “That’s how it’s going to be, then?”

“That’s the only way it can be.”

She nodded, the corner of her mouth curling into a rueful smirk. A gleam of mischievousness sparked in her eyes. “Sorry in advance then, cause I still need your help.”

Hunter put the pieces together a fraction of a second too late. He leapt back, away from the glowing spell circle that had appeared at the Owl Lady’s fingertips, but he wasn’t fast enough. A warm, yellow light encased his body, plucking him gently from the ground and depositing him on the cursed staff. It held him in place, featherlight against his skin and all the more immoveable for it. The Owl Lady shouted something—to her Palisman or the bird-tube or both, Hunter didn’t know and was too busy struggling to get free to care—and soon they were airborne, the Owl House miles below them, a fading speck in the distance.

The glow disappeared and Hunter yelped, quickly righting himself with an almost instinctual ease born of centuries of flying with a very different staff. The Owl Lady laughed. “Careful, Caleb, you really don’t want to fall from this high up. Trust me.”

“Great advice, coming from the one who kidnapped me!” Hunter shouted over the rush of the wind. He wrapped his hands around the shaft of the staff, his stomach lurching as the Owl Lady urged her Palisman to fly even faster. Ok, it was official: he hated flying when someone else—something else—had control. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that he couldn’t see where they were going or really know which way to lean to avoid overbalancing them all or the slight thrum of energy underneath his hands.

Wait, what?

Hunter blinked, staring down at the wooden shaft. That was—that wasn’t right. Palismen staffs didn’t whir and chink and hum, not like his artificial staff did. And yet, Hunter could…not hear it, not the way he could with his own staff. There was no quiet drone of synthetic magic, no low crackle of energy lancing down wires and through metal, no ever-present hiss of power too soundless for any witch or demon to be able to hear.

This was something else. A sensation he couldn’t hear so much as feel, a stream of power deep within the inert wood. An energy so pure and so natural, moreso than the spell that had trapped him here. Moreso than any spell he had ever seen cast back at the castle or even any that he had cast with his own staff. This was life and now that he could feel it, he wondered how he’d never sensed it before, this energy that ebbed and flowed like a river beneath his hands. He closed his eyes, forgetting the frustration he felt at being unable to complete his mission, forgetting his anger at being kidnapped and the fear that the Owl Lady’s reckless flying would kill them both before they ever made it to Bonesborough proper. He closed his eyes and focused on that river of life, blocking out all else until could see it in his mind’s eye and trace the flow of power with a thought.

Something stuttered deep within him, like the surface of a long-stagnant pool being disturbed by a pebble. Ripples radiated through him, and Hunter could sense more than see, feel more than hear the river of life within the staff do the same.

No, not a river.

Palistrom energy.

Hunter breathed in sharply, his eyes flying open. Disgust and shame burned like acid in his stomach, and he leaned back as much as the force of the wind would allow.

What had he done? This was Palistrom energy—wild magic! And he had almost, he had almost…

He didn’t know what he had almost done. But it involved wild magic, so whatever it was, Hunter would not be doing it again.

(Even if, for a single moment, it had felt horribly, shamefully right—as natural and needful as breathing.)

Ok, he clearly needed to get off this thrice-hexed staff. Now. He leaned carefully to the side, studying the rushing landscape beneath them. To his relief, the worn dirt paths and long, trampled grasses were just starting to give way to paved roads and concrete sidewalks. The Owl Lady seemed to notice it, too.

“We’re here—finally! Alright, Caleb, I know you’re probably pissed at me right now, but what’s it gonna take for you to at least point me in the right direction?”

Well. Never let it be said that Hunter didn’t take advantage of the opportunities given to him. “I’ll lead you there myself, if you just let me off this worthless scrap of wood.”

He couldn’t see her face from his current position, but the Owl Lady’s back suddenly stiffened, and her voice bristled with offense. “Owlbert’s not worthless, Caleb. That’s going too far.”

Agree to disagree, Hunter thought savagely, but didn’t say. Not now, when she was finally lowering the staff to the ground.

Despite safety being one of his earlier arguments against Palisman travel, he didn’t bother waiting for the Owl Lady to land properly. If she hadn’t killed him yet with her flying, jumping the fifteen feet left to the ground wasn’t going to be what did him in. He landed in a controlled roll that was basically second nature at this point and climbed back to his feet before the Palisman even had the time to resume its animated form. “C’mon,” he ordered, preempting the Owl Lady’s next request. “Let’s hurry up and get this over with.”

The owl hooted a derogatory remark that Hunter did not hear and landed on its master’s shoulder. The Owl Lady shot him a deeply disapproving look but gestured for him to lead the way.

Hunter didn’t hesitate, taking point and scanning his surroundings only long enough to determine the most efficient route to Adagast’s home.

The sooner they confronted this wizard and found out just what he wanted the human for, the better.

Chapter Text

Luz grinned as she waltzed out of the fairy princess’s glade, her faithful companions following in her wake. She had made even more friends since meeting Neverreth, including the zany cat-goblin, Chris, and the adorable little princess who had invited their group in for tea and tiny sandwiches. “Thanks again for letting us visit your home, Princess,” she cooed. “All your food was so small and cute! And it tasted a-maz-ing.”

“Yeah, yeah, yummy sandwiches,” King groused, glaring at the group. His tail lashed behind him like an annoyed cat, accidentally whacking Luz in the head. 

“King! Be nice,” the girl scolded. Turning back to the small fairy, she assured her, “We really do appreciate it.”

The small demon narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to Luz’s ear and dropping his voice to a whisper. “Luz, can we please go? Something doesn’t feel right about this.”

Luz ran a hand through King’s fur soothingly, ignoring his complaint. Instead, she offered her new friends another smile, this one tinged with sadness. “This has been the best quest ever. I wish it didn’t have to end.”

“Your quest will soon come to an end, for the staff you seek is around the bend!” Chris sang tunelessly, hopping about and waving his arms in a pale imitation of a dance.

Luz’s smile slipped into a slightly disgruntled frown. “Really? You have to point that out right at this second? We were having a moment, Chris!”

Chris shrugged, still beaming up at Luz. “It seemed like a good time.”

She shook her head, letting her gaze roam over each person (and maybe linger a bit on Neverreth—just for an extra second or two). “I’m gonna miss you all so much. When the quest is over, do you think we can still be friends?”

The fairy princess giggled. “Of course, Luz. I’m sure we’ll all be friends forever! In fact, I have something for you—to make sure of it!” The fairy waved her hand in a circle and a golden bracelet appeared in flash of light. Luz quickly reached out a hand to catch it.

“A friendship bracelet? For me?!” She quickly bit her lip to keep from squealing in excitement. “This is amazing! No one’s ever given me a friendship bracelet before! Thank you!” She slipped it on, blinking past the tears that stung the corners of her eyes. “I’ll never take it off!”

The fairy giggled again. “Oh, I’m sure you won’t.”

“Alright,” Neverreth cut in before Luz could reply. “Enough chitchat. You’ve got a staff to find, remember?” He crossed his arms impatiently, smirking at her. “Don’t keep us waiting, Chosen One.”

“Right!” Luz spun around, puffing her chest out slightly as she marched into the forest. Her attention firmly on the goal ahead of her, she never noticed the vines coiling around her new friends.

But King did.

Hunter brushed back the curtain without fanfare, striding through the entryway as if he were the lord of the manor, only to draw up short at the sight that greeted him. Where before there had been extravagant topiaries and a perfectly manicured lawn, there were now only dead trees and shriveled grass. What had once been opulent pillars of marble and gold was now only cracked and crumbling towers of stone. Withered vines clung to every surface, fracturing the foundation and crushing the walls. They curled around the vegetation and broke through the soil, draining life from the earth itself. Hunter tensed, perking his ears and letting his vision grow sharper. “It wasn’t like this before,” he muttered.

The Owl Lady hummed as she stepped to the side and up into his peripheral vision. A glance in her direction revealed that she was no more comforted by the sight of the estate than he was. “Probably an illusion spell then—and pretty powerful one if it was able to conceal all this junk.” She kicked a piece of debris out of her way. “Unfortunately, I can think of several reasons why someone would bother casting such a high-level spell and none of them are good. Let’s keep going; I have a few thoughts I want to share with this Adagast.”

Hunter nodded, leading the way to the study Adagast had invited them into before. Unsurprisingly, there was no wizard. But there was a generous assortment of papers strewn about the floor—papers that greatly resembled the supposedly original map Adagast had given to the human. Hunter curled his hands to fists as the Owl Lady knelt to pick one up. Just what kind of trap had the human walked into?

…Better still, what kind of trap had he allowed her to walk into? He had known from the beginning Adagast couldn’t be trusted. Why didn’t he push harder to get her to see it? Why didn’t he tell the Owl Lady as soon as she left? Maybe if he had, they wouldn’t be standing here in this place that reeked of death, the Owl Lady studying a fake map in hopes of finding the way back to her apprentice.

Hunter swallowed tightly, moving closer to the wild witch. Her Palisman turned to glare at him, but for once he couldn’t bring himself to care. If the human came to harm because he failed to protect her…

She wasn’t from the Boiling Isles.

The Owl Lady turned to him, her eyes sharp and serious in a way Hunter had rarely seen in the carefree criminal. “I think I know where she’s going. She’s got a lead on us for now, but at least she still has to hoof it. If I fly fast, I can probably catch up to her before Adagast enacts whatever twisted plan he has up his sleeve.”

But she was here now.

The owl took staff form as its master held out a hand. She climbed on and stared at Hunter. “I’m going to save Luz.”

He didn’t owe her his protection. She wasn’t his responsibility.

“Are you coming with me?”

But somehow, in the short time he had known her, she’d managed to claw her way under his skin. Somehow, he still cared anyway.

He may not owe her his protection, but he could still choose to protect her anyway.

“Caleb?”

Hunter sighed, closing his eyes and swinging a leg over the staff. Deep in the privacy of his mind he whispered an apology that the Emperor would never hear. “Yeah, fine. Let’s go save the human.”

He felt the Owl Lady jolt in surprise, but thankfully she didn’t waste time mocking his ‘change of heart’. Instead, with a muttered command to the staff, she took flight, racing out a window and out towards the horizon.

Hunter only gritted his teeth and prayed he had made the right choice.

Luz pushed through bushes and darted around trees, her eager pace slowed only by her borrowed cape when it tangled in the thorny branches or the half-buried roots and rocks that threatened to trip her in her haste to reach the staff. Still, she pressed on valiantly, despite the obstacles in her way, only pausing as long as it took to shake the leaves from her hair and clear the twigs from Neverreth’s cape. King claws, cute as they were, poked harshly through her hoodie as he fought to keep his balance on her shoulder.

“Hey, Luz, d’ya mind slowing down for a minute?”

“No time, King. You heard Chris! We’re almost there! Although, I’m not sure what he meant by ‘around the bend’. Do you think he was speaking metaphorically? He was probably speaking metaphorically; there’s no bends in this forest—there’s not even a road! Unless he meant, like, the forest itself bending, maybe? Or the tree limbs all bending to point in the same direction?” She slowed her pace slightly, tilting her head up to stare at the branches. “Do they look like they’re bending to you?”

King flicked a half-hearted glance up at the forest canopy. “Nope, definitely not bending. Listen, Luz, there’s something freaky going on here! I think we really should just quit while we’re ahead—or at least, take some time to figure out what’s going on! Whaddya say we go back to the Owl House and ask Eda for advice. She knows a lot about wild magic; I bet she’ll know more about the staff than some punk in jammies. And hey! She loves to steal stuff, especially shiny, magic stuff! She’ll probably even help you with the quest!”

Luz frowned as she reached behind her to untangle the cape. “No offense to Eda or anything, King, but so far her ‘lessons’ have mostly been about breaking the law and doing her chores. Which don’t get me wrong! Starting a prison riot was fun and I did like getting to meet so many new and interesting people, but I haven’t really done anything to learn magic since I’ve been here.”

“You’ve only been here two days.”

“Exactly! Two whole days and I still haven’t cast my first spell or talked to a magic hat or learned an incantation to summon an eldritch horror from the bottom of a crumbling well.”

King blinked. “Summon an eldritch…what kind of cursed magic do you have in the human realm? No, wait, we’re getting off track! My point is you don’t have to find a way to do magic on your second day, ok? If the Stupid Staff has been in the Weirdness Lake for however long it’s been, waiting an extra week or two won’t cause the end of the world. Probably.”

“But we’re so close!” Luz groaned. “And everyone is counting on us! Adagast and Chris and the princess and Neverreth…we can’t let them down now!”

“Yeah,” King shuddered, the fur along his tail poofing out slightly. “That’s another thing. Luz, I don’t think Creepy Fountain Boy and the others are your friends.”

“What are you talking about?” Luz laughed. “Of course they’re our friends! They helped us on our quest and gave us food and told us jokes and even gave us presents, remember?” She shook her arm, causing the two bracelets to jingle against each other like tiny bells.

“They gave you presents.” King pointed out. “And I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”

“Aw, sounds like someone’s jealous. Don’t worry, King, I’m sure the princess wouldn’t mind if I gave you a bracelet. You’re our friend too!” Luz slipped one of the bands over her wrist and held it up to the little tyrant.

King narrowed his eyes at the golden trinket, digging his claws even deeper into Luz’s hoodie. She winced as they scraped against her skin. “Ow! King! What’s the big idea?”

“I don’t like it! And I don’t like them! You weren’t looking, Luz, so you didn’t see!”

“See what?”

“The vines!” King snapped, the fur along his spine beginning to stand on end as well. “When I looked back, I saw them! They were all over those creeps! Curled around them and hanging off ‘em and trailing behind ‘em like—like puppet strings or something! It was weird…and not good-weird like me or Eda or you. It was bad, Luz. I don’t like this. I want to go home. Please.”

“King…” Luz reached up to pet the frightened demon, smoothing down his agitated coat. “There aren’t any vines this deep in the forest. And the others aren’t creepy, they’re just people like you and me—well, people like you, anyway.” She giggled and bapped the part of his skull that looked most like a nose.

King batted her hand away. “You’re not listening!”

“I am listening, King.”

“No, you aren’t! I’ve been trying to tell you that something’s not right from the very beginning! Caleb tried to tell you even before that, but you didn’t wanna listen to him, either! Now we’re lost in the middle of some freaky forest that shouldn’t exist, surrounded by creepy puppet people who probably want to eat our brains and turn us into creepy puppet people too! And I’m probably delicious!”

“King, it’s alright. No-one’s going to eat your brain, I promise. Neverreth and the others aren’t puppets, ok? There are no puppets here. It’s going to be ok. We’re going to find the staff and fly back to the Owl House and surprise Eda and rub it in Caleb’s face that we were right all along. Then he’ll have to admit I’m the Chosen One!” She winked at him, a wide smile crossing her face. “I bet I can even get him to admit you’re the King of Demons, too. How about that?”

King frowned, but Luz could see the way some of the fear in his eyes receded at the mention of his title. “You…you really think you can get him to admit it?”

“Definitely!”

King huffed, but eventually gave a small, conceding nod. “Ugh, fine. But to be clear, I still don’t like those weird definitely-puppet-people. And if they do try and eat our brains, I want it on record that I told you so, just in case I don’t have time to say it before they turn us into brainless puppets.”

“Deal,” Luz nodded, still smiling as she pushed through another tangle of bushes. Her eyes widened at the view awaiting her on the other side. “Uh, King? Just out of curiosity, when do I get to say I told you so?”

There, in the middle of a glowing, ethereal lake, was the Celestial Staff.

 Luz squealed and stepped forward, only to pull her foot back quickly when the water began to bubble. To her relief, a platform soon rose from underneath the lake’s surface; a platform which led directly to her staff. She laughed and began to twirl across the bridge, much to the exasperation of King.

“Ugh, Luz. Walk normally; I think I’m going to be sick if you keep spinning me around like this!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited! We finally made it! I found my staff! Can’t tell the difference between reality and fantasy—hah! Maybe Caleb needs to go to the Boiling Isle’s version of Reality Check Summer Camp!”

“Reality what-now?”

Luz shook her head, reaching both hands out toward the glowing scepter. “Es igual. It’s not important. What matters is I’ve finally got my witch’s sta—” As she spoke, ribbons of light shot out from the crystal, twirling through the air, and forcing both human and demon to flinch away from the searing brightness. No sooner had the light faded; however, than a dark shadow seemed to rise in its wake. The waters of the enchanted pool began to recede, and the vegetation withered before their very eyes. The land splintered and cracked underneath their feet and a familiar purple miasma swirled hauntingly around them, bringing with it an aroma of death and of despair.

And the Celestial Staff that only the Chosen One could reclaim, the staff that Luz had worked tirelessly to find, the staff meant to prove once and for all that she was more than just Luz the screw up, turned to ash in her hands and vanished on the wind. 

King swallowed audibly, scurrying down her back to stand uneasily at her side. They both gasped as the ground began to shake, but Luz was the first to find her voice when she noticed a familiar figure emerge from the fog. “Mr. Wizard?”

It was Adagast alright, but the genial old man was slumped at an unnatural angle, his sparkling, warm eyes lifeless and vacant as they stared daggers into her soul.

“Not exactly,” Adagast replied, his voice no longer friendly and pleasant, but now harsh and hoarse and gurgling. Something fleshy and pink stretched out behind him, disappearing into the obscuring smoke. “Poor misguided little human. Your hubris has blinded you to the truth.”

Luz shakily pulled the Sword of Skullgar free from its sheath. “Uh, King? Is that the same ‘vine’ you saw on the others?”

“Yeah-huh,” the demon nodded, raising his own claws like tiny fists. “Now do you believe me?”

Before Luz could answer, the earth rumbled and split apart, four more fleshy, pink vines shooting up from the holes, each one wearing the face of one of Luz’s friends. The human swallowed, tightening her grip on the hilt of the sword. “This—this is fine. Totally not a problem. We just have to rescue everyone and beat the final boss. Classic Chosen One biz.”

“You little fool,” Adagast taunted. “I am everyone!” The vine pulled him back, parting the smoke to reveal a fleshy, pink monster of a demon. A creature of spineless tentacles and beady black and yellow eyes that watched Luz from all angles. A monster that towered over her, eclipsing her small body with his shadow alone. His laugh boomed, harsh and grating in Luz’s ears. “Don’t you see? I’m no wizard,” he cackled, his mouth moving in time with Adagast’s. “And you’re no chosen one. I’ve tricked you!”

No sooner had the demon finished speaking, than Neverreth’s cape and the fairy princess’s bracelet began to shine with a cold blue light. The soft fabric transformed into coarse rope and wrapped itself around Luz, trapping her arms at her sides. The bracelets changed to glowing manacles, cuffing her hands together at the wrists. Luz pushed herself valiantly to her feet, gripping her weapon as best she could in her fettered state. “You haven’t won yet! I still have the Sword of Skullgar!” She ran towards the Adagast puppet, slicing at him, only for the blade to bounce harmlessly off his thick robe.

The demon blinked at her. “Was that supposed to actually do something, or—”  

Luz groaned, glaring at the useless weapon. “Oh, c’mon! Why couldn’t Caleb have been wrong about this one thing?”

The beast laughed again, using his tentacles to make each of his puppets laugh with him. “Poor, pathetic little human! I suppose I should thank you—I’ve been trying for years to find a way to take Eda down, and now because of you, I finally have a way! You’ve lured her right into my trap!”

“I haven’t lured her into anything!” Luz refuted angrily. “She probably doesn’t even know I left. Guess the joke’s on you now, Adagast!”

Adagast cackled. “Oh, I think she’ll figure it out pretty quickly once your little friend gets back to her!”

“What?” Luz glanced around the destroyed lake, but there was no sign of King anywhere. “Aw, heck.” She slumped against her bonds, staring dejectedly at the faces of the people she had thought were friends. But they, each them, were nothing more than a lie, a puppet used by Adagast to manipulate and control her. And she had fallen for it like the world’s greatest chump. She didn’t listen when Caleb tried to tell her Adagast couldn’t be trusted. She didn’t listen when King tried to warn her that her ‘magical quest’ wasn’t what it seemed. And now, because of her, Eda was gonna walk straight into a trap and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She was just Luz the screw up, after all.

Hunter craned his neck around the Owl Lady’s bony shoulder, trying to gage their direction without accidentally overbalancing the staff. “Are you sure you’re going the right way?” He called over the rush of the wind.

“For the fifth time, yes!” The Owl Lady shot back, irritation thick in her voice. “Which one of us has the map, here?”

“Which one of us got lost for two hours trying to find a shortcut through Ispella?” Hunter retorted as he peered ineffectually at the crumpled map.

“You snark, but I’m still not convinced that enchanted wardrobe display wasn’t following us. Everywhere we turned, there it was!”

“That’s because you led us in circles for two hours!”

“Oh, for Titan’s sake. Look, kid, I’ve been flying since before you were born—”

Hunter snorted.

“—And I’ve been figuring out how to get where I’m going for at least half that long. I don’t need a backseat flier tellin’ me what to do! So, how about you just shut your trap and let me fly?”

“How about you learn how to actually follow directions first? Map says you were supposed to take a left at that bridge back there, not a right!”

“Really? Cause to me it looks like it says ‘shut up, Caleb’! And since I’m the one holding it, I must be right!”

Hunter rolled his eyes, but before he could actually form a response, another sound barely reached his ears over the rush of the wind.

“—da! Wa—up!”

“What, no smart-mouthed retort? No sarcastic comment? Will wonders never cease?”

“Shh! I hear something!”

“Luz is in trouble! Wait!”

“Yeah, I hear it, too. It sounds like…King?” The Owl Lady slowed down, turning her Palismen just in time for Hunter to see the rat burst from the underbrush, his small form heaving as he gasped for air.

“Titan, am I glad I found you guys!” He panted. “Luz is in trouble! That guy Adagast is a total freak and—wait. What’s Caleb doing on Owlbert?”

“That’s not important right now,” Hunter snapped, narrowing his eyes impatiently. “Report, furball! What condition is the human in?”

“Is Luz ok?” The Owl Lady repeated.

“For now, she is,” King nodded. “But I don’t know how long that’s gonna last. Turns out Creepy Pajama Man is actually Giant Octopus Demon Man! He was only pretending to be Adagast and Neverreth and Chris to get Luz to go on his quest because he wanted you to come after her, Eda!”

The Owl Lady frowned. “Oh, he was, huh? Well, looks like he’s got his wish—unfortunately for him! No one messes with one of my cronies and gets away with it!”

“Great. So, what’s the plan?” Hunter quired. “We know that Adagast is capable of high-level illusion spells already, but we also know he’s a coward, since he would rather trick a naive, powerless human than face the Owl Lady directly. Such a spineless criminal would never dream of joining a coven, since that would impair his ability to use—ugh—wild magic, which he would likely need to rely on if his deceptions were to ever fail. Therefore, it’s best to assume that he’s capable of any and every kind of magic and plan accordingly.”

“The nerd’s got a point,” the Owl Lady nodded. “Luckily, I have a foolproof plan for taking down wild witches and Coven brownnosers alike!” She gestured to her staff. “I’m going to annihilate him!”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “And how, exactly, are you going to do that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!”

“Yes! I would! That’s why I’m asking!”

The Owl Lady cackled, smiling manically as she tossed the map to the ground and settled King in front of her on the staff. “Let’s go, short stack. You can be our navigator now.”

Hunter frowned as they took to the skies yet again. “You don’t actually have a plan, do you?”

“Sure, I do! First, I’m gonna show up, then I’m gonna put up, then I’m gonna make Adagast regret putting his grimy little hands—” she glanced down at King. “Did he have hands?”

“Eh, really more like tentacles.”

“Eh, whatever. I’m gonna make him regret going after Luz!”

“So, not a plan. Literally the exact opposite of a plan. Good to know.”

“Hey, it’s a variation of the same plan I use whenever I’m facing a scout pack—excuse me, a company—and I haven’t been caught yet!”

Hunter gritted his teeth at the reminder that, yes, horrible strategic foresight notwithstanding, the Owl Lady had somehow continued to elude capture for years. “That’s just dumb luck! It’s bound to run out sooner or later!”

“You call it dumb luck; I call it natural talent!” She retorted primly. “Now shut it and let me drive! Let the lead out, Owlbert, we gotta move!”

The Palisman began to pick up speed, only for the rat to interrupt a second later. “Eda, you’re going in the wrong direction! Adagast’s dumb lake is that way!” He pointed back toward where he’d been running from.

“Hah!” Hunter jeered as the Palisman swung in a wide arc.

“Quiet, Caleb! You weren’t headed in the right direction either!”

Hunter studied the battlefield as the Owl Lady approached their target. As much as he hated to admit it, the rat’s description of the creature—while not a turn of phrase he would ever put in an official report—was at least accurate. Adagast certainly resembled a ‘giant octopus demon man’ now, complete with fleshy pink tenacles, many of which seemed to be attached to various caricatures of beings native to the Isles—including the wizard Adagast had first professed himself to be.

The human knelt in the middle of the combat zone, her arms limp at her sides, her head bowed as she stared dejectedly at her lap, seeming oblivious to the fact that she was surrounded by adversaries on all sides. Hunter frowned. Why wasn’t she yelling or screaming or trying to escape? There were no bonds preventing her from doing so, no injuries to her body that would prohibit an attempt to fight or flee. And yet, she seemed completely unwilling to make such an attempt. A cold chill raced down Hunter’s spine that had nothing to do with the speed of the Owl Lady’s descent. Despair on the battlefield was a weapon twice as sharp as any blade and thrice as dangerous as the most powerful spell. He had lost too many good soldiers to its clutches already—he would not let a civilian fall under its veil as well.

Especially not this civilian.

Hunter quickly dismounted the staff as the Owl Lady drew Adagast’s attention. The rat evidently seemed to think that following him was the better course of action than staying to face Adagast directly, because he soon popped up at Hunter’s side, his eyes wide in his face as he stared at the human.

“Luz!”

“Quiet!” Hunter hissed, glancing back over his shoulder to ensure the shout hadn’t been noticed by the enemy. Fortunately, the giant demon was fully distracted with gloating over the Owl Lady, who he seemed to have already ensnared in the first three seconds of the battle.

(Hunter made a quick note to have a few of his Lieutenants re-evaluate the training regimens of all active Scout companies. There was no way that a two-bit crook like Adagast should be able to capture her that quickly when even Clawthorne had failed.)

The rat glared up at him. “Why are we just standing here?! We have to help her!”

“I intend to. But there’s a smart way to go about doing it and then there’s the Owl Lady’s way. It won’t do us or the human any good if we get caught trying to save her.” He eyed the puppets carefully. “From what I can tell, it doesn’t look like his mannequins are capable of transmitting visual or auditory information.”

“Meaning…?”

“Adagast can’t see or hear through them. He has to already be focused on something or someone in their vicinity in order to be aware of what’s going on around them.”

The rat glanced between Hunter and the disheveled cat-goblin puppet a few times before his eyes suddenly lit up. “So, if we’re quiet and sneaky, he shouldn’t hear us rescuing Luz!”

“Shhh!” Hunter moved to wrap a hand over the rat’s snout, only to freeze and jerk back at the last possible second, breathing shallowly through clenched teeth. His hand fell to his side, and he balled it into a fist, tight and controlled. Something stirred deep inside his mind at the near-slip, an ancient instinct he didn’t have the time or energy to truly fight—not now.

He turned away from the repellent furball and breathed slowly, counting down the seconds in his mind. In-1-2-3-4: focus on the mission. Out-1-2-3-4: save the human, stop Adagast. In-1-2-3-4: Get back to the Owl House and find the elixir. Out-1-2-3-4: Use it to stop the curse and save the Emperor—save them all.

The dark shadow in his mind shifted and prowled, but quieted nonetheless as Hunter turned his thoughts to more witchly matters. The tightness in his chest eased slightly, and he trained his gaze back on the human, ignoring the rat at his side. He risked another quick glance over his shoulder and caught the Owl Lady’s gaze. She gave him the slightest nod and turned her attention quickly back to Adagast, mocking him for needing to manipulate a child rather than facing her directly.

Huh. Maybe she wasn’t as inept in matters of strategy as he’d thought.

Hunter shook his head, slipping in between two of the towering puppets and darting to the human’s side. She glanced up at his approach, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “Caleb? You—you came for me?”

“I’m here too!” The furball whisper-shouted. Hunter clenched his fa—teeth and refrained from admonishing him this time. “And so’s Eda! We all came to help!”

The human smiled, but it quickly turned to a trembling frown, tears pooling in her eyes as she glanced down at the dirt beneath her knees. “You shouldn’t have.” She whispered hoarsely. “I-it was trap. Adagast was never my friend, he was just using me to get to Eda.” She glanced back up at Hunter, shame and sorrow and despair written across her face in equal measure. “You were right about all along. You were right about everything.”

“I usually am,” Hunter said blandly.

The human’s expression crumpled, and she dropped her head again. The rat glowered at him and pressed closer to the human’s side. “Jerk!” he sneered at Hunter, before carefully extending both arms to wrap the human in a hug-trap. “Just ignore him, Luz, that’s what I usually do. You like friendship-squish attacks, right? Here.”

The human laughed wetly and said something in the other language she spoke. “…Thanks, King, I’d return the favor but…” She made an aborted half-shrug motion, as if she couldn’t physically move her arms from her side. Hunter eyed the way she held her hands, as if bound by invisible cuffs.

…Or illusionary ones.

He inhaled sharply. No wonder she was acting like she was restrained—because as far as she knew, she was. The human had only arrived on the Boiling Isles, what? Yesterday? She’d probably never seen an illusion spell in her life, much less been ensnared by one.

Hunter glanced back at the Owl Lady. She was still running her mouth, flinging taunts and jeers at her captor with seemingly little concern, but it was clear Adagast’s patience was nearing its end. They had to finish this, and soon.

“Human,” Hunter said, drawing her attention again. He tried to ignore the way the flicker of happiness on her face all but vanished when she looked at him. What did it matter, one way or the other, how she thought of him? It wasn’t as if they were friends. It wasn’t as if Hunter wanted to be. The human was nothing more than an additional responsibility, someone he was now honor bound to guard and protect—no more or less than any other being on the Isles. “We can’t stay here. It isn’t safe. Adagast has tricked you—”

“I know!” Luz groaned. “Jeeze, I get it, ok Caleb? You don’t have to keep rubbing it in. Yo era una idiota. I should have listened to you, I—” 

“That’s not what I mean!” Hunter sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. This was why he hated dealing with emotions! There was always so much room for misinterpretation. “I mean Adagast is tricking you now. You aren’t trapped; it’s an illusion spell. Whatever you see, whatever you feel, it’s not real.” 

Luz blinked at him. “I-It’s not? Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” Hunter nodded, careful to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “Illusions are powerful spells. They can impair your ability to trust your senses—and even your own mind—if you aren’t careful, but their strength lies in subtly and secrecy. They can hold power over you only as long as you believe they’re real. Once you know it’s just an illusion—”

“I can break free!” Luz cheered, a small smile creeping over her face. She closed her eyes and stood up, her arms and wrists shaking from a battle Hunter couldn’t see. “You’re not real! None of this was real! I—I wanted to believe it was. I wanted to believe I was special, so I let you trick me, but not anymore! You won’t hold me captive any longer!” A pale blue light shimmered into view around her torso and wrists. For a split second, Hunter could see the coil of rope that held her in place, the shining cuff that fettered her. Then they disintegrated before his eyes, fading from sight in a shower of pale blue embers.

A smile pulled at the corner of Hunter’s lips. “Well done, human.”

She stared at him, as if processing his words, before gracing him with a bright, beaming smile. “Thanks. And thanks for coming back for me, even though you said you wouldn’t,” she teased.

“Tch. Not like I really had a choice. I was basically kidnapped and forced to come along.”

She waggled her eyebrows, her voice taking on a playful lilt. “Whatever you say, Mr. I-act-like-I-don’t-care-but-I-secretly-do.”

“Still not buying into your ‘tronk’ rubbish.”

“Oh, you will,” the human laughed. “Sooner or later, they all do.”

“Noted,” Hunter retorted dryly. “Now, it’s my personal recommendation that we get out of here before Adagast realizes the Owl Lady’s been playing him for the past ten minutes. I assume you don’t have any glaring objections to that plan?”

“Actually, I do.” The human’s expression hardened into something more resilient, an expression of determination that was rooted not in fantasy and imagination and blind optimism, but in the simple desire for justice. “Adagast lied to me and used me. I want to make sure he can never do that to anyone else.” She bent down to pick up the pathetic excuse of a training sword that had somehow managed to survive the journey out here. “I know what you’re going to say. You don’t think I can do it, but I promise I—”

“I don’t think you can do it,” Hunter interrupted, his voice deadly serious. He pointed at the abysmal mimicry of a blade she held in her hand. “With that. I mean, seriously, who would ever think of bringing a sword like that to a fight. Its handle is too long, its weight is a joke, and does it even have an edge to it?”

“Uh…” The human ran one finger along the side of the weapon. “I don’t think so.”

“Pathetic,” Hunter scoffed, derision thick in his voice. “If the requisition officers in the Emperor’s Coven ever equipped the Scouts with such appalling weapons, they would be dismissed from service immediately.” Hunter shook his head and pulled out two daggers. He spun the second one in his hand, offering it to the human hilt first. “You do know how to use a real blade, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! I’ve clocked in over 400 hours on Planet of Battlecraft!”

“No idea what that is,” Hunter snorted, pulling out a third, smaller blade. He tossed a taunting smirk in her direction before training his gaze on the nearest assailant—a tiny fairy-like creature. “Just make sure the pointy end goes in the other guy! Even you should be able to do that much, human!”

“I know how to use a knife!”

Hunter cut through the puppet with one blade and with the other sliced through the tentacle holding it up. “Then prove it! Take up your weapon and fight!” He caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and spun around quickly, cutting down a mangy cat-like creature with ease.

Adagast screamed, loosening his hold on the Owl Lady. “Well, finally,” the wild witch cheered, freeing herself with a blast from her staff. “I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep him distracted. You kids talk too much, you know that?”

Hunter grunted as Adagast screamed, turning to keep all three of them in his sights. The human raised her knife threateningly, pointing it toward the wizard puppet who had started this whole mess. “I am a witch’s apprentice. And I’m going to earn my magic staff the hard way. I believed you magic man, now feel my wrath!” She lunged, stabbing the knife deep into the puppet’s body. Like the others, it vanished in a puff of smoke and Adagast shrieked again, using the rest of his puppets to corral them in.

The Owl Lady grinned, burning through three of them with a well-placed fire spell. “Beat that!” She called to Hunter, who raised his knives quickly to block an attack from a witch with an eyepatch. He traded a few blows with the puppet before crossing his arms in front of him and slicing through him with both blades, reducing him to smoke. He smirked at the Owl Lady, who only laughed. “Show off!”

“Jealous?”

“Nah, I can do this!” She turned and drew a spell circle, frying a small bulbous creature with a bolt of lightning.

Up ahead, the human was hacking away at anything that even remotely resembled a fleshy, pink tentacle. “Enough!” Adagast screamed, holding up his last puppet to reveal the furball trapped in his hold. “Surrender right now, or the dog gets it.”

“I am not a dog!”

“Oh?” Adagast blinked down at him. “What are you then? Some kind of rat?”

“No!” He shouted.

“Yes,” Hunter nodded.

“I’m the King of Demons! Now let me go!”

“King, I’m sorry,” the human called. “I should have listened when you told me something didn’t feel right about all this. You were right to be suspicious. Adagast wasn’t mystical or magical and his puppets were never my friends. They were fake, just like he was!” She threw the knife in her hand, stabbing the slimy demon through the head. Adagast’s hold on the furball loosened and he fell safely into the human’s hands. With a wet, gurgling screech, the cephalopodic demon shrunk down until he was nothing more than a tiny, trembling octopus.

Hunter sheathed his blades and followed the Owl Lady, closing ranks on the demon. The four of them stared down at the shivering creature. “Well, that’s the last time I take an outside referral,” the Owl Lady mused, before opening her mouth and finishing him in two extremely efficient bites. She licked her lips, humming in approval. “Mmm, oh, sorry. Did you guys want some of that?”

“I don’t eat street food,” Hunter scoffed, but the human just shook her head sadly.

“No, I’m just confused.”

The Owl Lady slanted a knowing look at her apprentice. “Thinking of calling it quits, huh?”

“This place is nothing like I imagined,” the human sighed.

“Maybe not here but come with me. I got something to show you.”

The human shared a confused glance with furball, then looked over at Hunter, as if he could somehow provide any insight into the chaotic workings of the Owl Lady’s criminal mind. All he could do was shrug and then sigh when she gestured for the three of them to mount up on her staff.

“That’s right, Caleb, we’re flying Air Owlbert one more time.”

“I don’t think so,” he glanced at the darkening sky, repressing the urge to groan. There was absolutely no way he could walk back to the Owl House and find the elixir before his shift—even if whatever shenanigans the Owl Lady had planned kept her busy enough for him to do so. “I really should be getting home.” He picked up the fallen knife he had lent the human, taking care to sheath it properly.

“Please?” The human whispered, staring at him with wide hopeful eyes.

Hunter held her gaze for a minute, then finally let himself groan. “Oh, for crying out loud. Fine. But this better not take too long,” he groused as he climbed on the staff. “And if anyone asks, I was never here and I did not get on a Palisman staff of my own free will.”

“Twice,” the Owl Lady jeered.

“I was kidnapped!” Hunter defended. “You kidnapped me!”

“Only the first time. The second time you came willingly because you were worried about Luz.”

“You were worried about me?” The human cooed as she climbed on behind him. “That’s so sweet, Caleb.”

“I was not worried about you!” Hunter blustered as the tips of his ears began to burn. “I may have been a little…concerned, but it’s not the same thing!”

“Heh, your ears are so red right now!” the furball taunted.

“You know, it’s not too late to go find another demon to eat you, right?”

“Alright you two, hang on!” The Owl Lady laughed as she took to the skies, ignoring the human’s shouts and the furball’s screams.

When she finally slowed the staff, Hunter raised an eyebrow, casting a dubious look at the skeleton below. “You brought us here?”

“Yep,” the Owl Lady nodded. “You can take off the blindfold now, Luz.”

The human did as she was asked, gasping when she saw the large carcass jutting out from the ground.

“The bones of the Isles,” the Owl Lady explained. “Up close, the Isles can be slimy—”

“And very stinky,” the furball added.

“And kind of gross,” Hunter acknowledged.

“But if you look at it from a different perspective,” the Owl Lady waved a hand, redirecting their attention to the top of the Skull and the shimmering stars above. A comet streaked through the sky, disappearing in a twinkling flash of light.

“It’s beautiful.” The human breathed.

“Yeah,” the rat agreed, closing his eyes, and leaning on the human’s arm. The three of them sat in silence for a minute, enjoying the peaceful view, until the human frowned again, looking over at Hunter.

“Hey, Caleb? How did you know that wizard was lying? I mean, I know you said you’re right about everything, but how did you really know? Like, for sure.”

Hunter grimaced. That was…that was getting into territory he was not at liberty to discuss. He turned toward the human, ready to bark an order to drop it, but froze when he saw the naked vulnerability on her face. Adagast’s betrayal had really done a number on her, hadn’t it? He sighed, quickly determining that maybe, in this one instance, a half-truth would be better than avoiding the matter entirely. “I said I’m usually right, human. And I am. But usually right is still sometimes partly wrong. For example, I shouldn’t have let you leave without telling anyone like I did. We got lucky today, but the battle could have easily had a much worse outcome. I was so focused on my…job, that I was willing to let you walk into a situation I suspected would be dangerous, even though I knew you didn’t have the experience or training to handle it. That never should have happened, and you have my most sincere apologies that it did.”

“Uh,” the human stared at him for a second, as if she didn’t quite know what to make of his speech. “That’s ok, dude. I mean, you tried to warn me and everything. I’m the one who didn’t listen.”

“Sounds like you both have some things to work on,” the Owl Lady pointed out, her voice noticeably softer, either in deference to the sleeping furball or the seriousness of the conversation. “And that’s ok. You kids have the whole rest of your lives to make mistakes and to learn from them. Hey, look at me. I’m pushing fifty and I still make a ton of mistakes. Doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world when you do.”

“I guess you’re right,” the human smiled, a bit of hope returning to her eyes.

Hunter nodded in agreement. “As for how I knew about Adagast,” he said after a moment. “I didn’t—not completely. But I watched the way he acted, and I listened to how he talked. It reminded me of…some other people I’ve met. People who would say whatever you want to hear to your face just to get you on their side—even if it wasn’t true. That’s what it looked like Adagast was doing to me.” He paused, letting that sink in, before offering the human a somewhat softer smirk. “That and, like I said, there really is no such thing as a Celestial Staff.”

The human groaned, but stuck her tongue out at him, nonetheless. “Yeah, yeah, rub it in.”

 Hunter chuckled and turned back to the twinkling night sky, deeming their conversation over. After a few moments, however, the human’s voice rose into the silence a second time. “Hey, Caleb?”

“Hmm?”

“Even though I’m not really a Chosen One and the Boiling Isles is nothing like the magical fairytale land in Azura, there’s still one big thing she and I have in common, and I think it may be the most important thing of all.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow, hoping he wasn’t about to accidentally set the human off on a Magical Quest part 2, or something. “Dare I ask what that is?”

The human offered him a gentle, soft smile. “We both ended up with pretty great friends,” she turned towards the Owl Lady, “and mentors.”

“Yeah, well,” the Owl Lady glanced down at the Ribs, but as she turned away, Hunter could see a thin sheen of moisture in her eyes. “I ended up with a couple of darn good apprentices myself.”

The human smiled and settled back on the staff in time to catch the next comet streak across the sky. Hunter, likewise, shifted his gaze toward the stars, trying to ignore the flash of guilt in his chest.

He wasn’t really the Owl Lady’s apprentice.

He wasn’t really the human's friend.

Everyone had their role to play, and in the end, ‘Caleb’ was no more real than Adagast had been. The only difference was at least the demon had the decency to admit it.

Chapter Text

Hunter marched through the castle hallways, his gait just a little quicker than normal. He couldn’t allow the Golden Guard to be seen engaging in such a mundane activity as running—at least not unless there was an immediate threat to castle security or personnel. And unfortunately, being late to a council meeting did not fall into that category. He grimaced behind the golden mask, for once grateful that the auspicious trappings of his office set him apart from the servants and lower-ranking Scouts patrolling the corridors. The lofty reputation of the Golden Guard ensured that none of the other inhabitants of the castle dared impede his progress for anything more than a slight nod or salute of greeting.

He navigated the twists and turns of the castle with an almost mechanical efficiency, painfully aware of each passing second. Not for the first time, he cursed his tendency to lose track of time when studying the older texts. The meeting was likely nearly finished by now! He clenched his teeth, hoping that this gathering of the Coven Heads hadn’t truly necessitated him to be present in any official capacity. While the Golden Guard typically attended most council meetings, he did so as a formal witness to the proceedings as well as an added security measure to ensure that none of the more unscrupulous officials managed to exert more than their fair share of influence over the assembly, either through magical or mundane means.

In short, it was his job to make sure no one tried to spell their fellow delegates or attempt to assassinate the Emperor in the middle of discussing monthly stipends for each of the covens or updating the safety protocols governing witch’s duels. Granted, it had been roughly a decade since the last incident, but Hunter was not minded to take chances with the safety and sanctity of the council chambers—especially since Terra Snapdragon had yet to offer a satisfying explanation for the unsanctioned experiments she had been conducting underneath the Imperial Greenhouse.

Hunter spied the doors to the greater council chamber just ahead. With a sharp gesture, he commanded the two Scouts stationed there to open them and marched through just in time to hear Coven Head Clawthorne finishing her report on the progress—or rather, lack thereof—regarding the Owl Lady’s capture.

She broke off when she heard the heavy doors open, turning around to see who had dared interrupt a gathering of the greater council. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one; every eye in the room turned to look at him and Hunter forced his spine ramrod straight, repressing the urge to duck his head at the sudden attention. That would not be a posture befitting the illustrious Golden Guard.

Most of the Coven Heads quickly turned back to their papers and proposals, though a few, like Snapdragon and Vitimir eyed his approach with interest, glancing between him and Belos.

This wasn’t the first time he had been late to a meeting or assignment recently.

Kikimora, in particular, grinned viscously, her voice dripping with fire-bee honey. “Why Golden Guard. How nice of you to finally join us. Prey tell, what was so important you couldn’t be bothered to arrive on time?”

Hunter rolled his eyes and prepared himself for the slight tingle of magic that flushed against his face whenever he spoke through the mask. “Your curiosity is truly boundless, Steward. Indeed, it’s matched only by your audacity. I need not explain myself to you, nor give so strict an account of my comings and goings to any witch or demon on this council.” Any witch save one, but he was technically far above the Coven Heads in rank, and even then Hunter was not required to defend the use of his time unless the Emperor saw fit to question it. Which he wouldn’t—not in such a public forum.

Kikimora laughed. “How very arrogant of you. I wonder, if the proceedings of this council are truly so inconvenient for you, perhaps your valuable time would be better served elsewhere. And surely it would be far better to have a witness who could at least manage to be present for the entire meeting.”

Hunter barely refrained from snorting. While Kikimora trying to discredit him before the delegates—and even Belos himself—was nothing new, she wasn’t typically quite as brazen in her efforts. He did his best to push down the flicker of amusement in his chest before it could reach his mouth—even the spell designed to deepen the register of his voice wouldn’t be able to conceal it if he committed an act so churlish as laughing in the face of the Imperial Steward in the middle of a council meeting…no matter how ridiculous her attempts appeared.

Coven Head Deamonne apparently had no such reservations. The laugh he gave voice to was far more polite and refined than the crass snicker that Hunter had to suppress, but it was no less scornful, even for the cultured undertones. “Yes, and I quite imagine you already have a recommendation for replacement, don’t you Kikimora?”

The red demon narrowed her eye at Darius. “As a matter of fact, I do.” She retorted primly. “What this council needs is someone who cares about the issues we gather to discuss—someone organized and respectful enough not to waste our time, and certainly not the time of our diligent Emperor, by failing to arrive until the meeting is all but ended. Perhaps even someone capable of doing far more than just standing around silently, trying to appear intimidating. I myself have a great many suggestions as to how we can resolve quite a number of issues facing this council, including,” she turned to Clawthorne, giving what she doubtlessly thought was a winsome smile, “the arrest of the Owl Lady.”

Clawthorne frowned, her hand tightening over the shaft of her…walking stick. “I am perfectly capable of bringing my wayward sister to justice without your assistance.”

Kikimora raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it seems to me that she’s only bested you at every turn. I should wonder how it is that the most elite among the Emperor’s Coven,” she waved a hand to encompass both Clawthorne and Hunter, “which itself is only meant to house the strongest, brightest, and most resourceful of witches and demons, could have failed so miserably at capturing a single wild witch.”

Clawthorne flushed at the accusation. “Edalyn’s curse weakens her by the day. The situation requires me to have a more…delicate hand in my dealings with her than I might with some common riffraff on the street. Of course, being the cunning witch that she is, she takes often takes advantage of my consideration.”

“So, you admit that you intentionally restrain yourself when attempting to capture the Owl Lady? In spite of the fact that, by your own admission, she frequently takes advantage of your weakness to escape? In spite of the fact that you all but begged our illustrious Emperor for the honor of bringing her to justice and ‘clearing your family name’?”

“That’s not—” Clawthorne glanced nervously at Belos, before quickly scowling at Kikimora. “The situation is more nuanced than you know! It requires careful forethought and planning, not merely blind aggression!”

“I see.” She turned to Hunter; the same taunting smirk still etched on her face. “And what’s your excuse, Golden Guard? If disrespecting the sanctity of our council so frequently wasn’t enough, why have you not managed to capture the Owl Lady, oh great Sword and Shield of the Boiling Isles?”

The Coven Heads glanced at one another, some watching with interest, others with concern, and still others with thinly veiled irritation. Hunter ignored them all to face his accuser. “How ironic, Steward, that you condemn what you suppose is arrogance in me even while your own hubris reveals the depth of your ignorance,” he observed, leaning forward and tilting his head down in a way that could only be described as mockingly. “Allow me to ease your confusion and assure you that I have at no point failed in any trust put forth to me by our Emperor. Indeed, the arrest of the Owl Lady has ever been the official purview of Head Witch Clawthorne as well as any Scout company she has seen fit to assign to the task.”

Kikimora’s natural skin tone was such that no rising blush could betray her embarrassment, but Hunter had had the dubious honor of working with her for over a decade now. He saw the way her gaze flickered down, noted the sudden tension strung through her body at his words, and saw the way her claws curled into fists around the sheath of papers she still held in her hands. She soon rallied herself; however, and her embarrassment quickly shifted to anger, if the spiteful one-eyed glower and the brief, but very present, very real glint of magic around her fingers were any indication. “So, you allow a known criminal to wander free, doing nothing to prevent because it ‘isn’t your job’?” She sneered. “How professional of you! Tell me, would you also leave an infant to the mercies of a feral slitherbeast if not directly instructed to lend your aid?”

Hunter bristled at the derisive slander, and he had to physically bite his tongue to keep from spitting out a vitriolic assassination of her own character. Unlike Kikimora, the Golden Guard must be ever mindful of how he interacted with others, for he represented the will of the throne in all that he said and did. He could not afford to lose his temper, even in the face of such a blatant attack on his integrity.

“Enough.”

The command rang out with authority and every eye turned to face the one who had spoken. The Emperor, who before this moment had seen fit to hold his tongue and allow them to squabble like children among themselves, now held up a single hand, instantly invoking silence within the room. Clawthorne and Kikimora both bowed at the waist as his shadowed gaze passed over them and Hunter met his eyes but for a moment before bowing his own head in respect.

Belos turned to the other Coven Heads. “It’s clear we will accomplish no more today. The Imperial Steward will send each of you copies of the official minutes, along with any additional forms you may need to fill out. If any of you have not had the opportunity to have your concerns addressed, make note of it and we will see that they are prioritized first in next week’s meeting. For now, please return to your duties. This meeting of the Greater Council is adjourned.” He paused, shifting his attention back to Hunter, Clawthorne, and Kikimora. “Golden Guard, Head Witch Clawthorne, and Imperial Steward, please remain for the moment.”

The delegates obeyed with no resistance, gathering up their papers and files, and sharing eager looks among themselves. Hunter suspected many of them greatly relished in the opportunity to gossip about the interaction they’d witnessed today, but professionalism and a desire not to incur Belos’s displeasure themselves won out over impulsivity and the intrigue of political drama. The Coven Heads filed out of the room with a poorly concealed eagerness, though Head Witches Deamonne and Eberwolf moved somewhat slower, glancing back at the four members left behind. Deamonne in particular hesitated, turning back around and opening his mouth, only to be cut off by a sharp tug on his cape, courtesy of Eberwolf. The head of the Beastkeeping Coven growled low in beast-tongue, his tone quiet but no less demanding for it. After a minute, Deamonne gave an extremely reluctant nod and left the room, glancing back regretfully as he did so.

Hunter internally breathed a sigh of relief as they left, reminding himself to thank Eberwolf for his discretion later. While he appreciated the Abomination witch’s loyalty and desire to help far beyond what words could express, the Emperor had made his orders to the Coven Heads clear and the last thing Hunter wanted or needed was for Deamonne to defy the Emperor for his sake. Good intentions aside, that wouldn’t benefit the situation in any way.

Silence reigned in the empty room and Hunter turned his attention to the matter at hand. Belos stared placidly at each of them, the fey light glinting off the great, golden antlers of his mask. After a minute, he spoke. “I expected better of each of you.”

Hunter fought the urge to duck his head further at the censure and out of the corner of his eye he could see Clawthorne biting her lip nervously, but Kikimora only blinked her eye innocuously —or rather tried to. The little red demon didn’t exactly exude innocence in Hunter’s estimation. Still, she gave it her best effort, smiling up at Belos and forcing her voice into an oozing saccharine tone. “I quite agree, my Lord. Head Witch Clawthorne’s repeated failures bring nothing but shame on the illustrious name of the Emperor’s Coven and the Golden Guard’s conduct was absolutely disgraceful, to say nothing of the lack of respect shown by his tardiness.” She shook her head. “To think that they would discredit you before the Coven Heads in such a way. It’s appalling!”

“Indeed,” Belos mused. “Almost as appalling as a Steward who not only demeans her allies openly but seeks to benefit from their alleged disgrace. Wouldn’t you agree, Kikimora?”

“Well, I—” Kikimora squeaked, her smiling fading as she recalled that the Emperor was no mere noble or even a Coven Head, to be so easily manipulated. “—I’ve not once failed in anything, Sire. I’ve honored the sanctity of the council and of your own precious time and not sought to waste either. When I brought up these faults in my colleagues, I only meant—”

Belos held up a hand, and once again Kikimora fell silent. “I’m well aware of what you meant, Steward. And while I do not condemn you for having ambition, the ways in which you chose to exercise it were entirely inappropriate. The council chamber is no place for traducers and malingers and I will not suffer the needs of the Covens to be overlooked because you would rather ridicule my appointed officials instead of serving the people of the Isles.” He pinned her with a stern stare. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kikimora muttered, the papers in her hand crumpling under the force of her grip. “…It won’t happen again.”

The Emperor nodded. “See that it doesn’t.” His point made; he allowed his tone to soften slightly. “Now, I believe you have several missives to send to the rest of the Coven Heads. I trust that you will be professional when doing so?” Kikimora grit her teeth but nodded all the same. Belos dismissed her with a wave. “Then you may go.”

The short demon turned to leave, shooting a poisonous glare in Hunter’s direction as she did so. Hunter resisted the urge to shake his head—Emperor Belos himself took Kikimora to task and yet somehow, he was still the one she blamed.

Once the door had swung closed, the Emperor turned back to Hunter and Clawthorne. He studied them both for a moment, before allowing his gaze to rest on the Head Witch. “Lilith.”

At the use of her given name, rather than her title, Clawthorne flinched and looked toward the ground. “My Lord,” she bit out, her voice fast and shrill as she wrung her hand nervously around her walking stick. “My Lord, I swear on the Bones of the Titian that I have never purposefully allowed Edalyn to escape—ah, not that she’s strong enough to beat a representative of the Emperor’s Coven, of course she’s not, but she hardly fights according to standard protocol. Er, not to imply that I lack the skills to compensate for her cheating, it’s only that—”

“Lilith, breathe,” Belos advised, his voice gentle and unbothered, even in the face of her ramblings. “No one is accusing you of anything. I know you better than that.”

Clawthorne managed a ragged breath, the tension nearly draining from her body at the Emperor’s words. Her following inhalations were slower and more controlled, and when she reached a more normal rate of breathing, the Emperor spoke again. “A wild witch though she may be, Edalyn Clawthorne has repeatedly shown both skill and tenacity in her dealings with my Coven—though I don’t doubt that a portion of that skill may stem from dishonest means as well. Regardless, it’s no fault of yours, Lilith, that we’ve not yet been able to bring her to justice. The presence of competence in your sister does not denote an absence of competence within you, nor does it imply deception on your part. The Owl Lady has been more fortunate than most of her kind, but as you’ve said, her curse grows stronger by the day.” He paused, rubbing his hand over his arm in an unconscious gesture. Hunter frowned behind his mask. “As her curse grows, she will continue to weaken, and she may well become more susceptible to magic as a result. You are wise to exercise restraint where possible—too much force could have horrific consequences.” He stared at Clawthorne, capturing her wide-eyed gaze with his own weary one. “There is little pain in this world equal to the loss of a sibling, Lilith.”

Clawthorne nodded slowly. “I am aware, my Lord. Edalyn and I have been apart for too long because of the curse. I hope you still—” she broke off, glancing almost self-consciously at the Golden Guard. “That is, I know she must answer for her crimes, when justice finally comes for her.”

“Cursed or not, the Owl Lady is responsible for her actions and must be held accountable for her behavior,” Belos confirmed. “As must we all. But I still intend to keep my promise to you, if that’s what you meant to ask. I will do everything I can to help you free your sister from her curse.”

Clawthorne started and glanced back toward the Golden Guard again, twitching uneasily. “My Lord!”

Hunter rolled his eyes behind the obscurity of his mask but kept his tone even and respectful when he addressed the Coven Head. “I’m well aware of your agreement with our Emperor, Head Witch Clawthorne.”

Clawthorne squinted at him, distrustful—and perhaps not wholly without reason. “Are you now?”

Belos chuckled, a warm, pleasant sound meant to soothe ruffled feathers and ease the listener into a more relaxed state, rather than convey any true humor with the situation. “There is very little that happens in this castle without our Golden Guard’s knowledge, Lilith. But I can assure you that, unlike some, he will not attempt to use that knowledge against you, nor frustrate your attempts to see Edalyn freed.”

Hunter nodded. In the first place, doing so would make him the biggest hypocrite in the Boiling Isles and in the second place, “I have neither the time nor inclination to try and prevent you from aiding the Owl Lady, Head Witch. If the Emperor has seen fit to offer you his aid, far be it from me to interfere with his plans.” He paused, debating the wisdom of what he wanted to say next. After a minute, he spoke, picking his words carefully and layering them with half-truths where he may. “It must be a terrible thing to know your loved one is cursed, to see them suffering so greatly and yet be powerless to ease their pain. I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”

Clawthorne relaxed slightly at the lack of judgement in his words. A look of relief passed over her face, vanishing almost as quickly as it appeared, though why she would look so relieved, Hunter couldn’t begin to guess. “Thank you, Golden Guard,” she muttered, her voice carrying the same slightly irritated cadence it always did when she was forced to acknowledge him, yet softer now, in deference to the compassion he had offered.

Hunter nodded again, for there was nothing else to say, and Belos cleared his throat. “I will do what I can to help you, Lilith,” he reiterated. “But I’m limited in what aid I may provide while Edalyn still roams free. If you want to see your sister cured, our best chance is to bind the wild magic within her. Her curse, like most, is born from wild magic, and it grows stronger the more she uses it. The Owl Lady must be placed in a Coven if it’s ever to be broken.” The Emperor met Clawthorne’s eyes. “If you want to save your sister, you must find a way to bring her in without doing more damage than you or she can bear.”

“I will.” Clawthorne assured him, a determined frown already pulling at her lips. “For Edalyn’s sake…and for the honor of the Emperor’s Coven. I won’t fail you, my Lord. I swear it.”

Belos smiled, and though it was invisible behind his mask, it nonetheless seeped into his voice, warm and reassuring. “I know you will. I would not have allowed you the task if I didn’t think you could handle it. Go now and do what you must to prepare.”

Clawthorne nodded, thanking him again, before she too exited the council chambers, closing the door with an echoing clamor. Hunter tilted his head, marking the departure of her footsteps as they receded down the hall. When she finally fell out of range of his hearing, he turned back to the Emperor and gave a small nod. Belos returned the gesture and motioned for him to have a seat at the table. He sighed as Hunter settled in across from him and when Hunter looked up again, he spoke.

“Golden Guard,” he began, for even though they were alone, he could not address Hunter with less formality—not here, where any witch or demon could waltz in at a moment’s notice. “This is the third time this week you’ve been late to a meeting or task or audience.”

“I know, Sire. I apologize for my tardiness. I meant no disrespect to you or to the time of the Coven Heads, time merely,” he winced slightly, “…got away from me.”

“Oh? And prey tell what captivated your attention so thoroughly that you would allow yourself to miss Head Witch Grey’s endless fawning?” Belos’s voice rippled with amusement and Hunter couldn’t help but smile in return, though the question put forth was potentially a dangerous one. While Hunter could answer it honestly this time, there had been other times, other meetings where, if Belos had chosen to question his delay, Hunter would have been forced into the unpleasant task of being…somewhat less than fully honest with his Emperor.

Belos, or more specifically the curse that lurked under Belos’s skin and shadowed his every waking thought, could never know that Hunter had infiltrated the house of the enemy and was assisting her—however obliquely—in her criminal activities while attempting to find a cure for the condition that the Emperor himself had all but surrendered to.

But fortunately, that was neither here nor there. Fortunately, Hunter could answer his sovereign honestly, even if the answer was slightly humiliating and not at all befitting someone of his station or experience. The tips of his ears began to burn, and he was doubly grateful for the hood of his uniform when he answered, “I-I was reading, my Lord, and I lost track of the time. Please forgive my astounding lapse in judgement. It—” It won’t happen again, Hunter wanted to promise, but he knew he couldn’t say that in good faith. Not when so much of his time was dictated by the whims of a wild witch who seemed to make it her personal mission to throw as much of his life into chaos as possible—even the aspects she knew nothing about.

“At ease, Golden Guard,” Belos soothed, his voice just a little softer, a little more comforting than was strictly appropriate between the Emperor and his Right Hand—but they were alone here, and a tone of voice was an easy enough quality to disguise if overheard by another party. Hunter let himself relax slightly. “A missed meeting or two is hardly the end of the world—though perhaps I would advise investing a portion of your stipend in an alarm of some sort.” Belos chuckled lightly. “I scarcely think our dear Steward needs even more opportunity to try and prove her superiority over you, particularly in so public a forum.”

“She’s getting bolder,” Hunter agreed. Just a month ago, Kikimora would have never dreamed of mocking him so openly but would have saved whatever taunts she had for shadowed corridors and whispered conversations.

Belos nodded, folding his hands on the table. “I suspect Lilith’s string of recent failures regarding the Owl Lady has sharpened her ambition. She wants glory and chases honor and is willing to step on whomever she must to achieve both.” A shadow passed over the Emperor’s eyes. “I remember well how intoxicating the promise of power can be…and how effortlessly it can blind you to the truth.”

“Kikimora is hardly being deceived by her own ambition,” Hunter pointed out softly, wary as always of speaking of such topics where another may overhear. “Not as you were.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Belos agreed after a minute had passed. He visibly shook himself from his stupor. “Perhaps I’m simply getting too sentimental in my old age. But as time marches ever onward, I can’t help but reminisce more on the follies of my youth. Kikimora is a driven and dedicated young demon, and I have no desire to see her replicate the mistakes of my past. I want a better future for her.” He shifted his gaze to one of the tall windows, looking out at the darkening sky beyond the castle walls. “I want a better future for them all.”

Hunter glanced around the empty room, eyeing the shadowed corners where the fey lights couldn’t quite reach and pricking his ears for any sound beyond the doors. Satisfied that they were alone and were likely to remain that way for the next few minutes, he reached out and placed his hand over Belos’s, drawing the older man’s attention back to him. “Then we will strive to make that future a reality,” Hunter promised. “Together.”

Belos stared at Hunter for a moment, before squeezing the proffered hand with his own. “Together,” he agreed solemnly.

And if his voice wobbled slightly, if the cadence of his tone was a little more hoarse than usual, only the two of them would ever know it.

Chapter Text

Hunter folded his uniform with pristine efficiency, taking care to ensure that no dirt or dust clung to the white fabric as he laid it down on the hidden alcove behind the painting of the nine Covens. These rooms formally belonged to Prince Hunter, Emperor Belos’s nephew and heir presumptive, and so it was necessary to store the trappings of the Golden Guard safely out of view of curious eyes—the maid staff, though extremely diligent in their work, had a way of rummaging a little too deeply through personal items when cleaning.

Hunter finished changing quickly, swapping out his breastplate and stiff regulation pants for more civilian-friendly garb. Once he was dressed, he squatted down to the deep cavern underneath the shelf and selected several knives of varying lengths from their mounts against the wall, slipping each one into a hidden pocket in his pants, tunic, or traveling cloak and grabbing his staff from its resting place along the outer wall. With a twirl of the staff and a twist of his wrist, he made the weapon collapse, shortening it from a full-length staff to a small metal tube with a crystal on top. The wing folded against the shaft with a click and Hunter placed the deactivated weapon next to the rest of his uniform. Before removing his mask, he placed a hand on the polished outer wall next to the painting, feeling the strong vibration of Belos’s magic even through the thick dragonhide of his gloves. The ward had not been breached since he entered the room.

Satisfied that no one was attempting to scry him from afar, he took off his mask and laid it with due respect atop the folded cloak. The transformation from Right Hand of the Emperor to random civilian was complete. He quickly restored the illusion wall that protected the alcove by pulling a lever hidden in a nearby sconce and ghosting his fingers over four of the nine Coven symbols from the painting in a particular order. When the illusion shimmered back into view, he re-hung the painting and moved toward the fireplace on the opposite side of the room, taking one of the fey lights from the sconces with him. With practiced ease, he repositioned the golden figurines on the mantle until they were angled perfectly, then moved the fey light until it cast their shadows in the proper directions and lengths. A light rumble reached his ears as the back of the fireplace sunk into the floor, revealing a narrow passageway. Hunter extinguished the fey light in his hand and entered the hidden corridor, taking care to push the right sequence of stones to conceal it from sight as he passed.

It was nearly pitch black in the tunnel, but Hunter had never needed any aid to see in the dark and made his way through the winding passage just as efficiently as he’d navigated to the greater council chambers. He exited the tunnel amid the jagged stones and splintered ribs of the ‘Great Titian’ and picked his way through them carefully, avoiding the scouts on patrol. Granted, it wasn’t too difficult a task, given that many of them were sidetracked by worrying about the thick clouds that had blown in from off the Boiling Sea. Personally, Hunter didn’t understand what the fuss was about. Each scout was equipped with a shielding bracelet for this exact reason and, if anything, the rain would make their job that much easier—not many people would attempt to sneak into the castle during a storm. But as their distraction served his current purposes, Hunter didn’t dwell on their complaining for too long. He had more important things to worry about, like whether he was fast enough to outrun the storm.

The scalding wind blew into his face and the sound of thunder echoed loudly in his sensitive ears.

Somehow, he couldn’t help but doubt it.

Luz repositioned her phone camera so that King was fully in frame. The small demon was tugging at a sock that had gotten wrapped around his snout. Luz smiled and in her best ‘wildlife documentary’ voice, she narrated, “here, we have fearsome King of Demons facing his natural enemy, the ducky sock.” Just as she finished speaking, King tore the sock from his face, ripping it into shreds with his sharp claws.

“Where are you now, ducky sock?!” He screeched.

Luz giggled and tracked him with her camera, switching back to her normal tone of voice. “Way to go, King. You totally demolished that ducky sock!”

“Of course.” King puffed out his chest. “Ducks are no match for the mighty King of Demons. But I didn’t call you down here just to see how awesome I am,” he added, jumping onto a tall trunk.

“Then why did you call me down here?”

King tapped the corkboard behind him, a messy, chaotic thing covered in pictures and drawings of all kinds of demons. Some appeared almost human (or rather, almost witch-like) while others seemed like a mishmash of different animals. Still others looked like something off the covers of those Howcard Dovecraft books Mamí never let Luz read.

“Luz the human,” King began. “You’ve been so busy learning about magic that you haven’t learned anything about my kind. Prepare yourself for: Demons 101!” He paced the length of the chest like it was stage, gesturing emphatically as he began to lecture. “Demons like me are grim tricksters of the twilight—creatures of sulfur and bone!”

“And cute little paws,” Luz cooed as she zoomed in with the camera.

King gave a resigned sigh. “And cute little paws. True,” he muttered, glancing back at the corkboard. Snatching a light-up pen from one Eda’s towering stacks of juuu—uh, human treasures, he continued resolutely as Luz panned the collection of pictures. “We live only to create chaos and misery. Our only weaknesses are purified water and…passive aggressive comments. Sometimes.”

“Oh, you guys are sensitive.”

“Even demons have inner demons,” King confirmed, before knocking away a photo of a witch laughing at a green pig-bat demon. Underneath was a yellowed sketch of a thin, pink creature with thick wild fangs and long, black claws. A spiky shell covered its back like a turtle, but the gleam in its dark slitted eyes was far from benign. “The most powerful demon of all is the Snaggleback. He is a—”

“Bad boy!” Luz grinned, tapping on her phone as she added stickers and filters to the image of the Snaggleback she had captured.

King frowned. “Luz, pay attention! This information could save your life someday.”

“No, no, I am so paying attention.” Luz looked up, forcing her expression into something far more serious and cupping her hand at her chin. “This is my paying attention face.”

“Luz—” King began, only to be cut off by a crash of thunder. Immediately, Luz jumped to her feet, a smile overtaking her paying attention face.

“Is it about to rain? I love the rain!” She raced from the room, never noticing the way King’s eyes widened as he darted after her.

“Hey, wait! Luz, don’t go out there!”

Hunter slowed his approach as he picked his way through the Owl Lady’s forest. Somewhere above the canopy, lightning flashed, bringing with it the roaring clamor of thunder. The hot scent of rain was thick on the air and though rationally Hunter understood that he couldn’t afford to be caught in the storm, some deep, primal part of his mind shivered with anticipation at the coming deluge.

The boiling rain had never been a barrier to him.

Hunter grit his teeth and pressed on, moving as quickly as he could through the tangling underbrush. His civilian ‘uniform’ didn’t come with a shielding bracelet, unfortunately, and he couldn’t risk showing up to the Owl House drenched in rainwater, and yet unharmed. That would only invite questions he was not inclined to answer. So, he ignored the soothing heat of the wind lashing against his skin, ignored the fierce, unnatural desire to feel the burning rain splash against his face and run down his arms and kept moving, fighting brambles and clinging vines and trees that reached out to grab him as he darted under their branches. He was so intent on his goal that he almost failed to register the sound of rustling in the bushes—almost. But his senses were keener than most and his hearing, in particular, had never failed him yet.

He turned in time to see the Owl Lady herself emerge from the undergrowth, leaves and twigs jutting out from the wild crow’s nest she called hair. Her eyes widened when she saw him, an expression of genuine surprise flitting over her face. “Caleb? What in Titan’s name are you doing out here?”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Coming for my shift, obviously. It’s Fearsday, remember?”

“It’s also about to start raining! Jeeze, Blondie! Do you want third degree burns? Because trudging all the way from Bonesborough to my place in the rain is how you get third degree burns!”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “It’s not raining yet. I figured I could make it in time. Besides, I can’t help but notice you’re out here too, Owl Lady.”

The witch in question frowned. “I also have one these,” she waved a glowing hand, creating a shield above her head. Hunter hummed in quiet approval—while the quality was slightly poorer than those produced by the bracelets, it would likely last her the thirty or so minutes it would take to get to Bonesborough proper at need…and the fact that she created it herself, rather than using an enchantment was admittedly nothing to sneeze at. Shielding spells were notoriously difficult, even among the elite members of the Emperor’s Coven. “C’mon,” she gestured at him, shuffling to the side. “I’m not about to have an angry parent and/or guardian show up at my door because you ended up melting your face off out of some misplaced sense of ‘duty’ or whatever.”

“The rain isn’t hot enough for that to ever be a concern,” Hunter scoffed, but obligingly moved under the shield, nonetheless. At this point, it was easier than arguing with her. “You would have to dive down to the Abyssopelagic Zone of the Boiling Sea, and even then, the intense water pressure would probably kill you before the heat succeeded in melting through all three layers of skin, muscles, and cartilage in your face.”

“You are the nerdy-est nerd I have ever met,” the Owl Lady drawled. “And that’s saying something because my sister was, like, the queen of nerds back when we were in school. But you got her beat, kid.” She shook her head as she began to walk toward the house. “It’s like I used to tell her, there’s more to life than books and theories and facts. You’re what? 15? 16? You should be doing fun teenage shi—stuff, like hanging out with your friends or spending all day on Penstagram or hexing randos in the marketplace. Get creative, kid! Bust a window! Bash a bully’s head in! Do something besides spending all your free time reading musty old books that no one cares about anyway!”

“Why am I not surprised that the most notorious criminal on the Isles would be endorsing property destruction and excessive use of force against a civi—a ruffian—as an acceptable entertainment method?” Hunter retorted.

“Ugh, you even speak like you swallowed a textbook.” She rolled her eyes, pausing to yawn slightly. Hunter shifted his eyes up to the shield as it flickered. There was a reason most witches and demons opted to use the bracelets rather than take the time to learn the shielding spell. Unlike most spells that stopped draining a witch’s a bile sac the moment the circle was completed, the shield spell required a continuous supply of bile and energy to maintain as long as it was active. “I’m serious, Blondie. There’s a whole world out there—go explore it! Adventure is waiting for you! Etcetera and so forth.”

I’ve seen enough ‘adventure’ to last a lifetime—actually several lifetimes, Hunter thought dryly, but all he said was, “Nice speech. You get that from the human’s book?”

“Eh, with enough hard appleblood, it actually wasn’t that bad.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “And she has a name, by the way. Actually, for that matter, I have a name. And so does King. It wouldn’t kill you to use them once in a while.”

“It might.” Hunter deadpanned. “We don’t know that.”

The Owl Lady snorted, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m willing to take the chance. How ‘bout you?”

Hunter paused, his brow furrowing as he pretended to give the question due consideration. The corners of his lips ticked upward as he met the Owl Lady’s gaze. “Nah. Why would I call you anything else when ‘Owl Lady’ fits you so well?”

“Brat!” The Owl Lady shouted, playfully swiping at him. Hunter’s training took over before he could think and he darted out of reach, jumping out from under the shield and instinctively scanning the area, unbothered by the first few drops of rain beginning to fall from the sky.

“Hey! Caleb, get back under the shield!”

Hunter ignored the command, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the human and the furball through the bushes. She stood with her arms open, head tilted toward the sky, as if completely unconcerned about the damage the boiling rain could cause—as if humans didn’t burn in the rain.

Hunter knew for a fact they did.

He raced ahead, disregarding the Owl Lady’s shouts, though he did notice they changed from aggravation to alarm as soon as she caught sight of her apprentice. “Human, get back inside!”

“Luz, get out of the rain!” The Owl Lady added, her frantic footsteps indicating that she had begun to run as well.

The rat glanced up. “I never thought I’d be happy to see you. Luz isn’t listening to me. Again.” He pouted.

The human looked up at Hunter’s approach, amusement and confusion shining in her eyes in equal measure. “What’s the matter with you guys? It’s just a little ra—ow!” She jumped slightly, letting out a pained cry that was audible to Hunter even over the roar of the wind, and grabbed her arm with her hand.

“It’s boiling rain! It isn’t like the human realm!” Hunter shouted as he reached her side.

The human tilted her head. “How do you know about the—”

“Just go!” Hunter shoved her forward, careful to only touch her clothes with his thick gloves. She staggered slightly, but the rat reached out to steady her, tugging her forward as they both ran towards the house, yelping loudly as the rain began to fall faster.

“Everybody inside!” The Owl Lady roared. Hunter risked a glance behind him to see her standing in the middle of the yard, both hands glowing as she began to enlarge the shielding spell. The orange swath of energy stretched slowly over their heads until it covered the entire house like a canopy, blocking the scorching rain from reaching any of the inhabitants below. The witch turned and Hunter raced inside, discreetly shaking the water from his hands and arms as he did so.

The human and the rat had already planted themselves on the couch, an open box of band-aids between them. Hunter watched as the furball carefully pressed a bandage against the particularly nasty looking burn on the human’s arm, before placing another band-aid over a much smaller scorch mark on his own skull. “Look! Now we’re boo-boo buddies,” he cheered, causing the human’s eyes to grow wide and glassy.

“Ohmigosh, I love you so much,” she cooed. Hunter rolled his eyes but said nothing as the human continued to disseminate the information she’d learned. “A boiling rainstorm on the Boiling Isles…the weather here is so fun!”

“Eh, we don’t really have weather,” the rat dismissed with a wave of his claws. “We have plagues, gorenadoes, shale hail, painbows—”

“Painbows?”

“It’s similar to your ‘rain’—bows, but not as colorful and looking at it turns you inside out,” Hunter explained, drawing the human’s attention.

“Remind me not to look at one then,” she chirped, before shaking the box of band-aids at him. “You were caught in the rain, too, Caleb. Come grab some band-aids before they run out.”

Hunter hesitated. Refusing would look suspicious, he knew that, but the idea of using medical supplies he didn’t need felt wasteful—especially considering they weren’t his supplies to begin with. And that wasn’t even counting the fact that, statistically speaking, the human would likely have a greater need for them than he would; at least if his current experiences with her were any indication. “…No thanks. I, uh, I’m good.”

The human frowned, studying him. “It’s just a band-aid, man. You don’t always have to be the tough guy.”

Hunter quickly turned away, busying himself with straightening a lopsided pile of books. “I said I’m fine,” he ground out. “Would you just drop it?”

“No, I won’t just drop it,” the human huffed. “You’re my friend, dummy, and I don’t want you to be hurt. Especially since you were only trying to keep me from being hurt in the first place.” She stalked towards him, the floorboard creaking unevenly with every step. “It’s ok. Me and King both got burned too—I promise we’re not gonna think any less of you for it.”

“Actually, that totally depends on where you got burned,” the furball squeaked.

“King!”

“What! I’m just saying! If he got burned on his eye and had to put a band-aid over it like a really tiny eyepatch, that’d be kinda funny.”

“Don’t listen to him. We’re not gonna laugh, I promise.”

Yeah…laughter wasn’t really the reaction Hunter was worried about. He gritted his teeth, glaring down at the Owl Lady’s weather-beaten copy of From Bones to Earth. Why did he ever step out from under that shield? Why did the human have to be standing in the middle of the yard when it was about to rain? Why did he have to be the first to see her? He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. He had been lucky enough to be able to avoid the need to explain this little…quirk of his so far. He supposed it was only a matter of time before that luck ran out. Even so, maybe there was still a way to salvage this, a way that wouldn’t end with the Owl Lady attacking him on sight or send the population of Bonesborough fleeing through the streets in a mass panic.

He gathered his courage and turned to face the human. “I said I’m fine, human. I don’t need medical treatment.”

The human scrutinized him closely, studying his face and the exposed length of his arms for any signs of injury. “Huh. You’re really not hurt. But how is that even possible? You got caught in the rain, just like we did.”

“It shouldn’t be possible,” The rat frowned, padding over to join them and jabbing a claw in Hunter’s direction. Hunter fought the urge to gag. The drying water on the little gremlin’s fur only amplified his natural scent. He swallowed tightly, feeling his teeth sharpen into fangs as he stared at the small creature. “Everything burns in the boiling rain! Sure, some of the flowers and stuff grow back stronger because of it, but they still burn!”

“Everything?” The human wondered. “Really?”

The irritating creature blinked, glancing over at her. Hunter took advantage of the distraction to risk a shallow breath through his mouth. In for four, out for four. Don’t lose control. Don’t lose control.

“Pretty much,” the furball confirmed. “I mean, there’re some beasts that live out in the Boiling Sea that don’t burn, like the kraken and selkidomus, but everything else definitely does.” He peered at Hunter, eyes gleaming with a mix of suspicion and child-like curiosity. “Witches are supposed to, too. So, how come you didn’t?”

Hunter smothered the savage growl that threatened to surge forward from deep in his throat. How dare this…this wannabe demon challenge him? This arrogant little creature had no idea what it was speaking to, no concept of the danger it flirted with, just by being near him. He balled his hands into fists, distantly aware of his nails hardening inside his gloves, growing broader, longer, sharper, until thick, powerful claws scraped against the rough dragonscale leather.

It wouldn’t take much to make it bleed.

The thought came to Hunter unbidden, rising up from a deep, primal place within his mind—the same place that had sensed the Palistrom energy within a lifeless piece of wood and rejoiced to feel the soothing warmth of the boiling rain. He drew a ragged, shaking breath, fighting the tremors that raced down his spine.

It would take only the span of a heartbeat to snap its neck.

“Caleb?” The human’s voice reached his ears faintly, as if they were miles apart rather than a few inches. Her face danced before his eyes, every pore of her skin visible to him with crystal clarity and yet muted at the same time, as if her presence were too inconsequential to be concerned with. “Are you ok?”

She would be easily dealt with. Human pressure points are not so different than most witches’— a quick blow to the underside of her jaw or one of her temples should be more than sufficient to dispose of her.

No. The human had no part in this. Hell, the rat had no part in this; not truly. It—he was just a chit, a child—

My rightful prey.

—and more than that, he was one of the Emperor’s subjects, regardless of his ill-chosen alliance with the Owl Lady. He was a citizen of the Boiling Isles, and thus legally entitled to Hunter’s protection. Even if every fiber of his being screamed in revolt.

Hunter seethed, feeling a familiar burning sensation reach his eyes—one he normally only associated with encroaching darkness.

The human raised both eyebrows, a worried frown flitting over her face. The rat (and he was a rat, a gremlin, the sniveling pet of the Owl Lady—nothing more), stepped back uneasily, his fur beginning to stand on end.

One part of Hunter howled in delight at the apprehension reflected in the gremlin’s eyes, the other recoiled in disgust and self-reproach. He didn’t want anyone to fear him…not even a creature of bones and dust and wild magic.

The door swung open, slamming against the wall with a clang that might have made Hunter cover his ears or grit in teeth in irritation if he had the presence of mind to do so. As it was, he only swore, whirling around long enough to confirm that the intruder was, in fact, the Owl Lady and not an enemy sneaking up from behind. Then, before anyone could press him further or demand an explanation for his strange behavior or again question his damned immunity to the damn boiling rain, he spun around and added to his disgrace by retreating deeper into the Owl House, leaving the three inhabitants of said house blinking confusedly in his wake.

Chapter Text

“Caleb, wait!” Luz called, preparing to dart after the older teen. Before she took more than a step, Eda’s bony hand clamped down gently on her shoulder.

“Hold on, kiddo. You wanna tell me what that was about?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “Because as of when I walked into the house, it looked like ole goody-two-boots Caleb was about to ‘wake up and choose violence’, as you squirts say.”

“Nobody says that.” King scoffed, his fur still poofed up like an angry cat. Luz might have laughed if she couldn’t still hear the ripple of unease in his voice. She ran a hand between his horns soothingly. “Get with the times, Eda, sheesh.”

“I honestly have no idea.” Luz glanced back in the direction Caleb had fled. “We were just trying to get him to put some band-aids on his burns, but he kept saying he wasn’t hurt. At first, I thought he was just trying to act cool and play it off, but then I got a closer look. He really didn’t have a single scorch mark on him, Eda.”

“Which, can we circle back around to how weird that is? Even demons burn in the rain! Even the Snaggleback! Me and Luz both got burned and the only reason you didn’t,” King pointed at Eda, “is because you got a shield. Jerkface didn’t and he ran right into the rain! How come he’s not a blond, jerky roasted marshmallow right now?”

Eda frowned. “Huh, that is pretty weird. Almost unheard of kinda weird.” She narrowed her eyes. “I know for a fact that kid didn’t have a shielding bracelet on him, or he would have used it when I bumped into him in the forest.”

“So, how come he didn’t burn? And why’d he want to hide it so bad? If I could go out in the rain, I’d do it all the time and I wouldn’t care who knew about it!” King puffed out his chest triumphantly.

Luz smiled. “Well, I guess Caleb’s just not as brave as you, King.”

“Hmph, I coulda told ya that!”

“So, the rain didn’t burn him—for some strange reason—and that led to him looking like he wanted ram your heads into a wall because…?” Eda asked around a yawn, pulling the door closed as she shuffled to the couch.

Luz glanced at King who shrugged, a bit of his bravado fading away at the reminder of the odd encounter. “We don’t really know,” Luz admitted, biting her lip. “I-I don’t think I said anything to make him mad. I didn’t mean to. I was just worried about him! I didn’t want him to be hurt!”

“I might have teased him,” King muttered. “Just a little. But he makes fun of me all the time, so if that’s why he almost flipped out, then he’s a total hippocricket!”

“You mean hypocrite,” Luz corrected.

King shook his head. “No, I mean hippocricket.” He thumbed through his book until he reached the right page, holding it up so that Luz could see the sketch of a comical creature with a large, fleshy snout and a segmented thorax and two separate pairs of legs—one stubby and mottled purple, the other long and spindly and a brilliant shade of red. “A vicious demon who gains their power from making others feel bad. But despite how they look, they actually have really thin skin—if you make fun of them, they get upset and run away.”

“Reminds me of some witches I know,” Eda mused. She yawned again, her golden fang glinting in the low light. “Look, if I’m being honest here, two shield spells in less than half an hour is a lot for anyone—even the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles. You kids are gonna have to figure this one out yourselves. Just do me a favor and don’t get blood on the furniture.”

“Yeah…but I’m not sure Caleb will want to listen. He seemed really angry.” Luz eyed her mentor thoughtfully. “You know, it might be easier if we had some magic get-along spell that could make him listen to us. Ooh, or a truth spell! That way we’d know for sure what was going on and wouldn’t have to guess!”

“Kid, believe me, if there was some kind of spell that could force two people to get along, I’da used it on Lil—on someone I know a long time ago.”

“What about the truth spell? Does it exist?”

Eda snorted. “Oh, it exists alright. It’s just a terrible idea! Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘careful what you ask, you might not like the answer’?”

“Um, no. Never.”

“Oh. Well, it’s definitely a thing people say in the demon realm and totally not at all made up!” Eda rubbed her face tiredly, drawing a spell circle in the air. A flash of light cloaked her briefly, and when it faded her clothes had changed from a ripped dress with heels to a rumpled, stained sweatshirt and fuzzy bunny slippers. “People keep secrets for a reason, kid, trust me on that. Besides,” she added as she laid down, groping for the pillow at the end of the couch. “I’m way too tired to go around casting truth spells on nerdy teens.” 

“So, then teach me how to do it!” Luz pressed, coming over to stand by Eda’s head. “I’ll cast the spell and take all the responsibility and everything!”

“Mmm.”

“Eda, please! I think I really messed up with Caleb somehow and I have no idea what I did or how to fix it! You know him, you know he’s not gonna wanna talk about anything to do with his feelings or his private thoughts or his personal life. How am I supposed to fix things if I have no idea what I did wrong in the first place?”

“Sounds like a personal problem. Night-night.”

“Eda!” Luz frowned. “C’mon, teach me how! Or else—or else I’ll just keep asking and then you’ll never get to sleep!”

The witch smooshed her face deeper into the pillow, completely unconcerned by the way it gurgled and hissed under her cheek. “Nice try, but I’ve lived with King for years, kiddo. I know how to fall asleep when rambunctious brats won’t shut their cake hole.”

“I resent that. I’m a rambunctious Demon King, thank you very much!”

Eda only snored softly in response. Luz huffed, throwing her hands into the air. “Oh, c’mon, nobody falls asleep that fast! I know you’re still awake! Eda! Eda! Eda the Owl Lady!”

Another snore drifted up from the couch, accompanied by a quiet mumble. “Yeah, of course, I gassed in the band room, Bumpipoo. Now the nerds are laughing too hard to subject the rest of us to that awful racket.”

“Edaaaaa, quit dreaming about your cool rebel teen years and show me how to cast a spell like a cool rebel adult!”

“No, professor, the tuba is not a trebuchet. But it slings the mystery meat just as good. Mmm, I’ll have the humus.”

“Eda! EdaEdaEdaEdaEdaEdaEdaEda—” Luz reached over the couch, poking her mentor in the face with every repetition of her name.

King padded up beside her. “Forget it, Luz, she’s out cold. Whaddya say we forget about learning spells and understanding moody Jerkfaces and go back to the important stuff—learning about demons!” He waggled the book enticingly. “I still haven’t told you how the Snaggleback feeds on his victims—it’s super cooo-oool!”

Luz shook her head, not taking her eyes off the slumbering witch. “I’m sorry King, but I don’t have time right now. I really messed up with Caleb—somehow—and I’ve gotta fix it. I can’t have one of my best friends mad at me!”

“Best friend? I don’t think he even knows your name.”

“Of course he knows! ‘Human’ is just…a playful nickname. You know, like how he calls you ‘rat’ and Eda ‘Owl Lady’ all the time? He’s just being friendly.”

“It’s Caleb.” King deadpanned. “I’m not sure he even knows what that word means.”

“Regardless,” Luz considered Eda for a moment, a mischievous smile creeping over her face as an idea slowly occurred to her. “I have to fix this, and I need that truth spell to do it. Plus, Eda promised she’d start teaching me magic like forever ago, and she still hasn’t shown me a single thing. It’s time to keep your promise, Owl Lady!” Luz licked her finger and stuck it carefully into Eda’s pointed ear, twisting it around just enough to make sure the sensation couldn’t be ignored.

Eda’s eyes flew open, and she bolted upright like someone had flash-frozen her stash of Apple Blood. “Yeow! What the heck was that?” She rubbed her ear with a grimace, turning a tired glare on Luz.

Luz smiled cockily, her eyes dancing with mirth. “I knew you were faking it. I’ve tried to get out of going to school too many times to fall for that trick!”

“Fine, you got me,” Eda groused, yawning again. “I’ll show you how to cast a spell. But then you go away and let me sleep for like a month, deal?”

“Si, es un trato.” Luz promised, pulling Eda up from the couch with both hands. The witch swayed unsteadily for a moment, but Luz only grinned excitedly. She was finally going to learn magic! “So, how do I cast the truth spell?”

Eda snorted. “Kid, the truth spell is high-level magic and I’m already keeping us all from burning to death under the boiling rain. Or having to listen to Hooty complain about the rain scorching his precious paint job, which is an even worse torture, let me tell you. We’re gonna start with something a little easier on the ole bile sac.”

“The what?”

Eda blinked at her for a moment, before seeming to come to a realization. “Right, human. You guys don’t have bile sacs, do you?”

“Uuuuh, I don’t think so? It wasn’t covered in health class…and lots of things were covered in that class.” Luz shivered slightly at the memory.

“Ugh, tell me about it. Puberty is one thing I do not miss about being young. Good luck to ya.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Anyway! Witch anatomy 101—the family friendly version.” Eda dug inside her thick mane of hair. “Most witches are born with a bile sac attached to their heart.” She pulled out a scroll, unfurling to show a drawing of a giant greenish-grey bulge attached to a more traditional-looking heart.

“Oh, gross!” Luz cried, wrinkling her nose at the gruesome, lumpy sketch. A second later she grinned, leaning forward eagerly. “Can I keep that?”

“No.” Eda said flatly, returning the scroll back into her tangled nest of hair.

“You wanna know what’s really gross?” King called from behind Luz. “The way the Snaggleback turns his enemies inside down before he kills them. Ooh, look how terrifying!” There was a rustle of something—probably another paper—shaking behind her, but Luz barely turned to look.

“Quiet, King. I need to focus.”

“Now, the bile sac produces bile which is what enables a witch to convert the raw magic inside their bodies to a more useable form.” Eda drew a small spell circle, creating a tiny ball of light. “The spell circle, on the other hand, is what seals the refined magic energy into a given spell. The bigger the circle, the more powerful the spell.” She drew another, much larger, circle creating a massive ball of light that burst into a dozen tiny embers.

“Wow,” Luz breathed, mesmerized by the fading lights. She soon frowned; however, as a terrible thought occurred to her. “But…how can I, little ole Luz, do magic if I don’t have a magic…bile sac…thing.”

Eda grinned and opened her mouth, only to freeze as she actually considered the question. “Huh. That’s a head-scratcher alright. I know witches did magic differently in the past, but I’ve got no idea how they did it.”

“How can you not know?”

“Eh, ancient history was never my strong suit in school.” Eda admitted as she trudged back over to the couch. “Though, come to think of it, neither was math. Or runeology. Honestly, everything except Grudgeby was kind of boring. Ooh, and detention. Man, the hijinks we got into back in the day.” She gave a tired chuckle.

“Ooh, what’s Grudge—no, wait, don’t get sidetracked!” Luz shook her head firmly. “Focus! Eda, show me how to do the light spell one more time.”

“Luz, we had a deal…”

“I know, I know. Just show me one more time. Look, I’ll record it.” She held up her phone. “That way you can go back to sleep, and I can try and figure out how to cast the spell on my own.”

Eda sighed. “Ok, one more time. But pay…attention,” she yawned.

“Yes!” Luz cheered, pressing the record button on her phone. “Smile, you’re on camera. One more spell won’t kill you.”

Eda mumbled under her breath, drawing another circle. This one had none of the smooth, clean lines of the previous circles, however. The edges were squiggly and grainy, and the ends of the circle didn’t meet up nicely like the other two. Instead, the lines crossed over one another, creating a blinding blast that knocked Eda to the ground and shook the room slightly. When the light faded, Luz and King looked down to see the older witch unconscious on the floor.

“Well, looks like one more spell killed Eda,” King observed.

Luz screamed.

Chapter Text

Hunter ground his fangs together, curling his trembling hands into fists as he prowled the lower levels of the Owl House restlessly. The basement, though dark and damp and rancid with the stench of molerats and voles, was at least comforting in the isolation it offered. Here, the tantalizingly putrid odor of the little beast was the weakest. Here, the relentless drone of the rain was muted, even to his ears, and the darkness pressed in around him like a comforting blanket, hiding his shame away from the world.

Hunter took a ragged breath, fighting through another wave of bloodlust. That—that had been way too close. If the Owl Lady hadn’t come in when she did…

He shook his head wildly, unwilling to entertain that train of thought, even for a moment. What could have happened was irrelevant. All that mattered was that he’d been able to maintain control long enough to keep the human and that…sniveling little gremlin…safe. He’d removed himself as an obstacle and left them in the capable hands—well. He left them with the Owl Lady, anyway. They were unharmed and as long as they kept their distance, they would remain so for the foreseeable future. Everything was going to be fine.

…Except the human now knew he didn’t burn in the rain. The rat knew it, knew that it was wrong, even if it (he) couldn’t understand how wrong. They knew, which meant that sooner or later, the Owl Lady would know, too.

Hunter ran a hand through his hair, snarling softly in annoyance. In the darkness, spiders and rodents alike scurried back to their webs and nests. Hunter turned away from the vermin, his mind whirling with possibilities and what-ifs.

The Owl Lady knew. Until evidence arose to the contrary, it was better to take that point as fact. Either the human would tell her or already had, but either way, the outcome was the same. The Owl Lady knew he didn’t burn in the rain. That was…problematic, but not completely detrimental to his mission. Not yet. The Owl Lady might think she was the greatest witch on the Boiling Isles, but there was still plenty of magic even she had yet to uncover. Hunter would be willing to bet a sizable portion of his stipend that she’d never even heard of glyphs. It wouldn’t take much to convince her that the Emperor’s Coven had created a new spell, one that rendered both shielding bracelets and shield spells obsolete. Or, given her background and current legal business, perhaps a potion would be a more compelling fabrication. Yes, he could tell her that Coven Head Vitimir had managed to create an elixir that rendered a person immune to the effects of the boiling rain. And if he wanted to be completely certain she would buy into it, he could even suggest that the elder Clawthorne had a hand in the brewing—that more than anything would ensure that she would remain so fixated on re-creating the potion that she would never even think to press him further.

In fact, it might even be distracting enough for her to overlook any…complaints the human or her little pet might want to lodge against him.

Hunter sighed, leaning heavily against one of the dusty shelves lining the far wall. How was it that in the two months he’d been working at the Owl House prior to the Human’s arrival, he’d managed to never appear as anything more than a particularly bratty teenager, but now barely two weeks after her arrival, he had almost revealed the second most well-kept secret in all the Isles? Granted, he had always been harsh toward the rat and there were plenty of times he had to keep pushing until the little beast ran off somewhere, for his own safety. Hurt feelings were better than broken bodies, after all. But even then, he had never come so close to losing control as he had today. And he had certainly never revealed a quirk so abnormal as his damned immunity to the boiling rain.

But what was he supposed to do? The human had been either arrogant or uninformed enough—or both—to go out into the rain without even the most rudimentary forms of protection. Should he have kept his silence when he saw her standing under the darkening sky? Should he have remained safely under the Owl Lady’s shield and let her burn to save his own skin? And what of the rat? He had always been wise enough to never go out into the rain before the human arrived. How could Hunter know the water would magnify the creature’s stench? How could he have foreseen his own reaction to the overpowering smell? How could he have predicted the sheer aggression that would arise from the darkest places of his mind?

And how in the Demon Realm could he keep it from happening again?

Hunter closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose carefully. He would find a way. He had to. If he messed up and got himself kicked out of the Owl House because the Owl Lady feared he was threat to one of her ‘minions’, if he was unable to secure the elixir because he couldn’t control his own monstrous desires, what hope was left for the Emperor? For the Boiling Isles? No. He had come too far now to lose everything just because of some thrice-damned compulsion. He was neither a ratworm, to be so shackled to his baser instincts, nor an abomination, to be a mindless tool incapable of free will and thought. He would master this hellish desire, just as he had every other.  

He breathed deeply, finally feeling some of the tension drain out of his shoulders and neck. He sunk to the floor, folding his legs into a meditative stance, but before he could even begin to recenter his mind, a distant explosion reverberated through the rafters, accompanied by a high-pitch, childish scream.

The human.

Hunter’s eyes snapped open, but he didn’t shift position. The human, he had begun to learn, screamed at a great many things. She screamed when she was happy and screamed when she was excited. She screamed when she saw a flame-roach and screamed when her favorite show played on the crystal ball. It was entirely plausible that whatever she was screaming about now had something to do with the rat being ‘cute’ or the Owl Lady being ‘cool’ or both. In short, it wasn’t worth Hunter’s time to investigate—not now, when his hands were still covered by thick claws meant to rend and tear and his mouth still filled with sharp fangs perfect for ripping into soft, pliable ti—demon flesh.

Hunter shivered at the visions dancing before his eyes. No. That wasn’t what—who—he was. That wasn’t who he wanted to be. Whatever grim—others like him had been created for, he had always been free to choose his own destiny. It was a lesson his uncle had ensured he knew from the very start. He stood by the Emperor’s side because there was no other place he wished to be. He defended the citizens of the Isles because he believed those in positions of power had the responsibility to protect those they ruled over. And he had invaded the Owl House to save the life of the person he loved most in all the realm. Every decision he had ever made had been his own and he had no intention of surrendering that free will just to fulfil some ancient directive of a long-forgotten race. He was more than the sum of his parts. He was more than the commands written into the dark, wild magic that had given him life.

And by all the Nine, he would prove it. Even if it tore him apart in the trying.

Luz exhaled around a groan, slumping over as she stared at the phone in her hands. “I just don’t get it. All she’s doing is drawing a circle. That’s it! But when I try to copy that—” she traced a lopsided circle in the air. “Nothing! There has to be more to it than that. Something…something I’m not seeing.” Her brows furrowed and she shook the phone gently in frustration. “Why you gotta be so cryptic, Owl Lady!”

King glanced over at her. “You know what’s really cryptish? Zogard the Terrifying!” He flipped his book around to reveal a crayon drawing of a squat little monster. “Look how teethy! Bite, bite!”

“Not now, King! I have to figure out how to do this light spell!”

“But we’re supposed to be having our demon lesson,” the small tyrant complained. “You can figure out that dumb spell later.”

“No, I can’t,” Luz retorted, hitting the play button on her screen again. “Caleb’s really upset. I told you; I have to figure this out so we can help him.”

“First of all, Jerkface is always grumpy about something or another. There’s not enough magic in the realm to change that. And secondly, even if there was, how’s a light spell supposta fix anything? If Eda had shown you the truth spell, I’d understand, but this?” King tilted his head. “What are you going to do, flash a light in his face until he agrees to stop being such a weirdo jerk?”

“No, of course not, I just…” Luz bit her lip, her gaze darting around the room. “Well, maybe he’ll be so impressed I learned the light spell that he’ll just tell me what’s been going on with him.” She smiled, wide and encouraging.

King stared flatly at her in return. “Wow. After I teach you about demons, I really gotta teach you how to lie better, cause that was just sad.”

“Hey!”

“Why do you really wanna learn this spell so bad, Luz?” The small tyrant gripped the edges of his notebook even tighter. “Or…do you just not want to learn about demons with me?”

“Hey,” Luz repeated, her voice growing softer as she let the phone fall from her fingers. She reached out toward King, drawing him close to her chest. “Hey, no. I absolutely want to learn about demons with you, King. Of course I do.”

“Then why…”

Luz sighed. “This may come as a surprise to you,” she admitted quietly. “But back in Gravesfield I didn’t really…people weren’t…I wasn’t good enough, I guess.”

“Good enough for what?”

“To fit in. I was always ‘Freaky Luz’, ‘Weird Girl’, always ‘Luz the Screw-up’. Even when I tried so hard not to be. When I came here, I thought I finally found a place where I could fit in. A place where I could belong.” She chuckled sadly. “But how can I fit into magical world when I can’t even do magic? ¿No es esa la forma? I finally find a place that’s as weird as me, and somehow, I still don’t fit in.”

King didn’t respond at first, though he did wrap his arms around Luz, offering a hug which she readily returned. After a minute, he spoke up, his own voice little more than a whisper against the drone of the rain. “I know what it’s like to have people judge you all the time. People take one look at me and assume because I’m ‘small’ and ‘cute’ that I should be talked down to or treated like pet. Like I’m not the King of Demons and I couldn’t totally turn them all into giraffes if I just had my powers back! But one day I will get my powers back and then everybody who was stupid to me will gravel at my feet!”

Luz gave a shaky laugh. “Grovel.”

“What?”

“It’s not ‘gravel’, it’s ‘grovel’. They’ll grovel at your feet.”

King rolled his eyes. “Whatever! They’ll beg me for mercy either way!”

“And will you give it to them?”

“Mmm, haven’t decided.”

“King!”

King tilted his head up, meeting Luz’s grin with a mouthless smile of his own. “What? I’m not an unreasonable overlord. If they give me enough offerings, I won’t turn them into bugs.”

Luz laughed again, louder and stronger, opening her arms and gently pushing King off her lap. “You’re terrible!”

“Terribly terrific. You love me! C’mon, admit it.”

“Si.  Te quiero muchísimo.”

“No idea what that means, but it sounds like I’m right!”

“Yes,” Luz grinned. “I love you very much.”

“And I love you,” King announced, sweeping his arms wide as though he were making a big proclamation. “Cause you’re a weirdo like me. And us weirdos gotta stick together. So, I’ll help you learn the light spell. But!” He held up one claw, his expression flattening into something more serious. “If I do, you gotta promise to let me teach you about demons. Deal?”

“Deal!” Luz held out a hand. “Help me figure out how to do magic and I promise I’ll be the best student you’ve ever had!”

King wrapped his claws around her hand, sealing the deal. “Great! Ok, so you know how Eda always drinks a lot when she wakes up in the morning? And before she goes to bed?”

“Appleblood.” Luz nodded. “What does that have to do with…?”

“It’s not always appleblood—not always the hard stuff, either. She drinks potions. I bet that’s really where her powers come from. Eda likes to think she’s slick, but I’m even slicky-er than she is. I know where she keeps her stash.” He tilted his head up at Luz, eyes gleaming with the promise of trouble. “Wanna see?”

Luz bit her lip. “We really shouldn’t rummage through Eda’s stuff without permission. She might get mad.” Despite her words, she couldn’t quite curb the excitement in her voice.

“Eh, she’ll be out cold for another hour, at least. And last time I checked, she had tons of potions. She’s not gonna miss one itty-bitty ole bottle. C’mon, Luz. D’ya want do magic or not?”

Luz hesitated, glancing back down at the grainy, half-formed spell circle frozen on her screen. She wasn’t exactly making much progress on her own and Eda did say there was another way to do magic. Maybe a potion could help tide her over…just until she figured out what that ‘other way’ was. “Ok,” she agreed, slipping the phone into her pocket. “Lead the way, King. Let’s find those potions.”

Hunter opened his eyes to the roar of the sea and the feel of broken bones under his hands. The sky above him burned a hellish red and the taste of ash filled his mouth. He leapt to his feet, ignoring the gravel as it crunched under his boots and the warm sting of the spray that flecked his face as waves broke against the weathered rock. The castle loomed behind him, a sanctuary and stronghold both, and he pulled a blade from the belt looped at his waist as he walked to the edge of the peninsula.

The sound of panting reached his ears, the scape of claws against bare stone. He turned, knife flashing out before him, but his enemy was faster still, twisting to the side with a flexibility no witch should ever possess and leering at him with eyes slitted and glowing. The monster snickered, running its tongue over its sharp fangs and tilting its head mockingly as it stood at full height.

Hunter’s grip on the knife tightened and he threw his hand out to the side, willing into being a staff of metal and wire and artificial magic. It was a simple summoning spell, one he had seen scouts and Coven Heads alike cast many times over the years—albeit, of course, not with the intent of summoning staffs into their hands. Even so, it worked just as well for him now, here in the confines of his mindscape, as it ever had for them in the real world. He twirled the staff in his hand, the crystal glowing with power as he took careful aim.

The beast lunged and Hunter fired, flinging both his knife and a bolt of magical energy at his enemy. The monster’s agility served it well in escaping the knife, but the same movement that spared it the blade sent it hurtling towards the crimson blaze. It drew up short, trying to leap away a third time, but to no avail. The beam struck it square in the chest and it howled; a painful, haunting cry that echoed in Hunter’s ears.

A promise of vengeance.

The light faded and this time it was Hunter who was forced to stumble back as thick, curved claws slashed at his shoulder. He flinched back with a cry, his free hand flying to cover the wound as green smoke leaked into the air. The monster loomed over him, eyes wild and glowing with malevolence. It swung a second time and Hunter lifted his staff, just barely casting a shield spell in time to save himself further damage.

He closed eyes, breathing deeply as he willed the torn skin to knit itself back together, willed shredded sinew and ripped muscle to mend. The monster growled again, a deep rumbling sound that set Hunter’s teeth on edge. It slashed at the dome again and again until cracks began to appear on its surface and the light itself began to waver.

Hunter wiped a line of sweat from his brow. His heart hummed with murderous intent, his lungs burned with the desire to hunt and kill and destroy. He could feel the monster’s hunger, its incredulity, just as keenly as if it were his own. Why bother fighting so hard? We seek the same thing, after all.

No.

The death of a Titan .

No!

It’s what we were created for. The mission we were designed to complete.

That may have been true for others, but not for me. I’m honor bound to protect the citizens of the Isles, not hunt them. Not kill them!

That Titan is no citizen. It is our lawful prey!

The cracks grew longer, thicker along the surface of the shield. Hunter gripped his staff and the crystal on its head flared all the brighter.

You can never escape it! It’s the function of all the common source born! The monster leered at him through the flickering shield, its face—Hunter’s face—pulled back in a feral, predatory smile. The human may have brought you into this world out of ignorance, but you have the same burden as any who walked the shores before you. The ritual existed but for a singular purpose, and now you will fulfill it!

Your purpose is not mine! The history of the others will never be my destiny! I have the right to choose who I want to be! And I refuse you, grimwalker!

The shield flickered once more and fell. Hunter shifted, tensing and lowering his center of gravity as he waited.

The beast laughed and lunged.

Hunter disappeared in a flash of crimson light. The monster crashed against the stone, hurriedly pushing itself to its feet and glancing around wildly. Hunter reappeared at the base of the castle steps and slammed the base of the staff into the ground, creating a cage of ice around his enemy.

We are nothing alike!

The monster roared, flinching away from the cold.

I’m the Golden Guard, the defender of the Isles. You’re nothing more than a shadow that lurks in the dark!

He held up his free hand, fingers glowing with a dark blue light. The cage pulsed with that same power and shrunk, pressing closer and closer around the beast.

I am the Prince of the Boiling Isles, Heir Assumptive to the Emperor himself. I will not be held in thrall by dark instincts and wild thoughts!

It snarled and howled as the freezing ice knitted tighter around it, forcing it to its knees.

This is my mindscape, and I alone control it. You have overstayed your welcome, aberration.

The monster glowered from within the crate of frost and will. You think that just because you are the True Hunter, that you can repress me? How quickly you forget. I’m not a curse, Hunter. Like it or not, I am a part of you. We’re two halves of the same magic, you and I. You can no more deny me than rip the living stone from your chest!

Hunter’s eyes narrowed. How quickly you forget. I’ve spent over 300 years learning to master my worst inclinations and repress my…abnormalities. I don’t intend on feeding into them now.

And what, pray tell, makes you think you’ll have the choice? You may have 300 years of practice ignoring the death cries of palismen and refusing the soothing call of the sea, but these gifts are nothing compared to the lure of Titan blood. You can’t help being what you are, Hunter. And whatever other titles and positions you may hold, what you are—what you will always be—is a grimwalker!

Be quiet! This farce has gone on long enough, monster. I won’t hear any more of your lies! Go back to the dark recesses of the subconscious where you belong! Hunter spun his staff in a circle and the ground cracked and shifted beneath the cage, crumbling into a yawning black abyss. As the cage fell into the deep, the last thing Hunter saw was his own face leering at him with a snarling smile, eyes slitted and glowing against the shadows.

Hands gripped his shoulders, shaking him roughly. That was the first thing Hunter was aware of as he returned to the real world. Still high on adrenaline, he grabbed the arm holding him down, propelling himself to his feet even as he yanked his assailant toward the floor. Maneuvering swiftly behind them, he released their arm to pin them to the ground under his boot, glaring down to see—

“Caleb! T-take it easy, it’s just me! It’s me!”

—The human staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes. He quickly stepped back. “Human! What the heck are you doing, skulking around like that? Do you have any idea how easy it would have been for me to—” He cut himself off with a grimace, something tightening in the vicinity of his chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that again! And don’t touch me! By the Nine, you could’ve gotten seriously…” He blinked, finally taking in her appearance. The human wore a pillow strapped to her chest and had placed additional band aids under her eyes. She clutched a human sport stick to her chest like a lifeline and, rather than focusing on him, her eyes darted about restlessly, scanning the shadows. “…Injured. What’s going on? Why are you dressed like that?” He took a step forward, causing one of the floorboards to creak.

The human flinched.

Hunter swallowed and drew back, unable to help the irrational guilt that stabbed at his sto—heart. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He muttered. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”  

“What?” The human glanced back at him, her brows furrowing. “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of—”

Something screeched above their heads, a demon cry Hunter had never heard before. The rafters shuddered with heavy footfalls, accompanied by the crack of splintering wood. “That. The snaggleback.”

Hunter tensed, ears flicking forward and vision growing all the sharper in the dark. “That’s not a snaggleback.”

“Wha-what is it, then? King said—” The human cut herself off with a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. “Ohmigosh, King! We have to find him! Quick before that—that whatever-it-is gets him!” She reached for Hunter’s arm, clearly intent on dragging him after her, but he darted out of reach before she could.

“Caleb! We don’t have time for this! King could be in danger! Eda’s missing! I know I upset you before and I’m sorry for whatever I said or did, but we have to work together right now if we want to help our friends!”

Hunter blinked. “Wait, what? I wasn’t upset with you. Yeah, your questions were annoying, but—” The sound of wood shattering under abrasive claws reached his ears and he snapped his mouth closed, unconsciously holding himself a little straighter. “Right. Priorities. Human, we need to defend ourselves.” He glanced around, spying a set of brightly colored human torture devices and some plastic flash boxes. He gathered the small blocks for himself and quickly passed the boxes to the resident human. “You know how to use these things better than I do. The moment that thing appears on the stairs, get as close as you need to for the flash to be effective, then blind it.”

The human fumbled a little as she tried to balance the flash boxes without loosening her death grip on the sport stick. “Uh, what? You want me to take its picture?”

Hunter repressed a sigh as he quickly scattered the innocuous-looking rectangles over the stairs. “I want you to blind it. Whatever it is, it’s clearly a species of beast that is nocturnal—not to mention extremely desperate—or it wouldn’t be hunting in the rain. If it is nocturnal, then its eyes are most likely extremely sensitive to light, in which case the sudden flash from those boxes in your hands will help in keeping it distracted.”

“Huh. And the legos?”

“No matter how tough its paws are, stepping on one of these human torture blocks will inflict further damage. Hopefully, between the ‘legos’ and the flash boxes, it will be preoccupied enough to allow us to press our advantage.” He raised an eyebrow. “Not that you’ll be able to do much with that sport stick—it’s much too flat to be an effective melee weapon.”

The human glanced down at the stick in her hands. “It was the first thing I could find! Not all of us just carry knives around all the time, you know!”

“I’m starting to think you should,” Hunter retorted, offering her a blade before pulling out one of his own. “You seem to keep getting in situations that require them.”

“Yeah, well…” The human groused, finally letting go of the stick to accept the superior weapon. “If I could do a stinking light spell, this wouldn’t be a problem!” She paused, staring wide-eyed at Hunter, as if a thought had just occurred to her. “Wait a minute. Caleb, you’re a witch!”

“An astute observation,” Hunter muttered, straining his ears for a hint of what was happening beyond the door. The beast had been quiet for far too long.

“No, I mean you can do magic! Like Eda! We don’t need these old timey disposable cameras or the legos or knives. You can just—” she gestured flamboyantly with her whole hand. “Magic up some plants—ooh, or an abomination! A whole army of abominations!”

Hunter clenched his jaw as he heard it—the sound of claws scraping against the floorboards, the heavy, labored panting of something drawing nearer.

“An army of abominations made out of plants and goo! Abominants! I bet they’d be crazy powerful!”

The door rattled and Hunter drew in a shallow breath, holding his blade at the ready. “Human,” he hissed, eyes trained on the door. “It’s coming! Get ready.”

The human finally looked toward the door, squinting to make out the movement in the low light of the basement. When she heard the hinges creak a second time; however, she quickly raised one of the cameras, letting the others crash unceremoniously to the floor. Hunter ignored the clamor, all his senses focused on the much too thin slab of wood that separated them from the beast. The door shook as something threw its weight against it and Hunter pulled his lips back in a fierce scowl, sucking in a sharp breath of air. The air rushed over a small indent in the roof of his mouth and the scents and smells of the world grew richer. The muskiness of the vermin and dust of the basement forced him to repress the urge to sneeze. The scent of the human’s sweat and the sourness of her fear made him swallow reflexively and grip his knife all the tighter. The stench of the house demon that permeated every nook and cranny of the Owl House suddenly threatened to choke him as it filled his lungs.

And, beyond the door, a uniquely putrid aroma seeped through the cracks. A tantalizingly forbidden stench that caused his stomach to churn and his mouth to salivate. The knob rattled again, and suddenly Hunter knew what was trying to get into the basement.

Not a beast.

Not a predator.

Prey.  

Chapter Text

Hunter stood still for a moment, arrested by the bloodlust that stirred ever-present in the back of his mind. The gremlin coming to harm at his hand was abhorrent. There could be no doubt of that. But if the fool were to fall into the hands of whatever beast prowled the halls of the Owl House…well. Surely that would be no fault of his own. Not even he could be everywhere at once. If he were so focused on keeping the human safe—which no one could deny was certainly no small feat—how could he be blamed if, in his fervor to protect the guest of their realm, he overlooked such a small, insignificant little pest. After all, rats died at the hands of beasts and demons every day. It was natural course of such things.

Hunter ground his fangs together, trying to ignore the prick of his conscience. A clamor reached his ears as a chorus of frenzied knocks, accompanied by a shrill squeak of terror, echoed from the other side.

It was the natural course of such things.

“Gah! Why won’t this stupid door open?!”

Something crashed against the cement floor. Hunter turned, dragging his eyes away from the door to see that the human had thrown down her last camera and was racing toward the thin slab of wood. He flung out a hand to stop her, just barely looping his fingers in the curve of her cowl. She skidded to a stop, spinning to stare at him with wide, frenzied eyes, her mouth already set in a disapproving scowl. “Let me go, Caleb! It’s King! King’s out there; we have to help him!”

“We have to protect ourselves, human. The furball is an…unfortunate, but necessary sacrifice. We can’t endanger our own lives for his sake.”

Her mouth flopped open, and she stared at him as though he had just grown a tentacle out of his stomach. “What is the matter with you?! He’s our friend; we are not ‘sacrificing’ him to anything, especially not a monster like that!”

“Obviously it isn’t ideal,” Hunter muttered. “But you have to try to understand the strategic advantage.”

Her brow wrinkled and her nose scrunched as though she had smelled something repugnant. “Strategic advantage.” She parroted flatly.

“I—yes.” Hunter cast his gaze around the shadowed basement, looking for the words to explain such a nuanced militaristic concept. (He wasn’t avoiding her gaze—no matter how much the disbelief in her eyes stung like ice). “Maybe things are different in the human realm, but here—sometimes—one must…surrender…the welfare of a single…uh, person, to protect multiple lives.”

“Oh, heck, no!” The human’s gaze hardened into a furious glare, and she stepped closer to Hunter, jabbing him in the chest. “You are not pulling any of that ‘needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few crap’, buster!”

Hunter flinched away, instinctively trying to put more distance between them (hadn’t he already explained that it was dangerous for her to touch him—especially like this!) But before he could either attempt to soothe her ire or, more likely, fan the flames of it by reminding her again to avoid direct physical contact with him, she was already spinning on her heel, taking advantage of his attempt to protect her by once again darting toward the door.

“Human, don’t!”

Unfortunately, this time she reached the top before Hunter could stop her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she swung the door wide open, screaming at the top of her lungs, “hurry, King, get inside! Quick!”

The furball’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the human, and he leapt towards her, throwing his arms around her waist. “Luz! You’re not dead!”

“What? Why would I be—” A rabid snarl cut off the rest of her inquiry. Hunter peered over her shoulder in time to see a large, bird-like beast lunge from the shadows, spit flying from its mouth as it charged.

“Human, watch out!”

He snatched at her hood a second time, pulling her (and the rat, by proxy) away from the door just in time to avoid the large, heavy claws swiping through the air.

The three of them tumbled down the steps, unprotected elbows and arms colliding with the very same unforgiving pain blocks Hunter had intended to use against the beast.

“Ow!” The rat yelped. “Who left human torture squares everywhere?”

“Not important right now!” Hunter snapped; his gaze trained on the mammoth creature attempting to smash its way into the room. “Hurry, human! The cameras!”

“Oh, right!” She groped around the floor for the flash boxes, giving a triumphant shout when she finally found one. She raised it to her face and aimed the flash towards the beast, one finger flexing against a small button on top of the device.

Nothing happened.

She frowned and pressed the button again. The camera made a weak click that was barely audible over the roar of the beast and the crack of fissures forming in the cement walls, but no blinding light came forth. “It’s broken,” the human reported quickly, her voice taut with nerves. “The flash—when I dropped it, I must have broken the bulb.”

“Grab another one then!” Hunter commanded, raising his knife defensively as the beast wriggled the last of her massive form through the shattered doorway. “You too, rat! If you’ve got to be here, you can at least make yourself useful!”

“Excuse you! I’m always useful! Not like some people who go around keeping lame secrets and getting upset for no reason at all!”

“Rat!”

“King, please!” The human shouted, stumbling in the low light of the basement. “Help me find the cameras!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, Luz…”

Hunter quickly tuned out the rest of the furball’s grumbling, flicking his ears forward to focus on the beast. It watched them with a predator’s gaze, he noticed, its eyes darting gracefully over each of their forms. It was probably attempting to figure out which of them was the easiest target. If it made its’ selection before those two night-blind civilians found a working camera—

Hunter scowled, baring his own fangs as he lunged forward. If nothing else, he could at least buy them some time.

The monster zeroed in on him immediately, drawn—as all hunters were—to movement. It snarled, barreling down the steps in a blur of grey and brown. Hunter raised his knife, prepared to slash through feathers and fur in equal measure, only to falter as a familiar scent reached his nose. It was subtle, buried under musky beast-stench and old vole blood and the fuzzy, electric odor of wild magic, but it was there. The smell of appleblood and sass and faint trash-slug goo. The Owl Lady’s scent.

He froze mid-swing.

The Owl Beast did not.

A heavy paw slammed into his side, knocking him back down the stairs. Hunter lost his grip on the dagger, his mind still whirling with the knowledge that this was the Owl Beast, the very creature the Owl Lady had concealed so carefully since before his tenure with her had begun. It didn’t make any sense—the Owl Lady had successfully suppressed her curse for years with the aid of her elixir. Why would it have suddenly failed now?

The Owl Beast offered him no time to dwell on the abnormality—she pounced, flapping her wings twice to gain height, before diving straight at Hunter. Hunter rolled to the side, acting more on instinct than conscious thought. Before he could even begin to plan his next move, however, the human let out a triumphant shout. “Ah-ha! Found it! Hey big guy! Say cheese!”

She darted to Hunter’s side, pressing the flash button several times in quick succession. The rat darted behind her, raising his own camera as high as his stubby arms permitted. “Yeah! Take this you demon freak!”

The Owl Beast let out a pained screech, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head as she tried to escape the bright lights. The human pointed at the crumbling doorway. “We should probably go now!”

Hunter nodded, taking up the rear as the civilians rushed up the stairs. He glanced back behind him as they reached the door, frowning thoughtfully at the Beast.

Just why had the potion suddenly failed? And if it could no longer contain a minor curse like the Owl Beast, what did that mean for the Emperor?

Lightning flashed, bringing with it an echo of thunder as the three of them burst into the kitchen, closing the door firmly behind them. “Ok,” the human panted. “I think we’re safe.”

“Yeah,” the furball scoffed. “For now. But what happens when Ugly Magoo down there realizes we escaped? It’s gonna come after us again. It’ll keep coming, over and over, until it finally hunts us down and eats us. Just like it did to the snaggleback and Eda!”

“You met a real snaggleback?” The human wondered, only to gasp as the second part of the rat’s sentence caught up with her. “Wait, that thing ate Eda?!”

“Probably!” The furball screeched, a high-pitched noise that set Hunter’s fangs on edge. “Have you seen her around anywhere?! I haven’t, but I did see that freak eat the snaggleback in one bite! Like it was a chocognat!”

“Quiet, both of you,” Hunter hissed, his gaze darting toward the door. “Unless you want the Owl Beast to track us down even quicker, then by all means please keep shouting at the top of your lungs!”

Two sets of eyes turned to face him. “The Owl what?” The human queried.

Hunter sighed. Of course, the Owl Lady’s foolish insistence on secrecy would come back to inconvenience him—not that he really had any room to judge on that score but, regardless. It was the principle of the thing! “The Owl Beast. It’s a cursed form that influences and overtakes the Owl Lady, turning her into a creature that, as the furball correctly surmised, is little more than a mindless predator. Normally the beast is controlled by a special elixir the Owl Lady always keeps on hand, but evidently it’s no longer working.”

The furball squeaked, looking up at the human nervously. She, in her turn, paled and wrung her fingers together anxiously. “An elixir? Like, a potion?”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Yes. That’s what ‘elixir’ means.” He studied them both for a moment, noting the way the furball edged closer to the human and the way the human began to tap her foot slightly, as if she could no longer remain still. “What did you do?”

“Whaaaat?” The human laughed. “Us? Do? What makes you think we did anything?”

Hunter slanted his most unimpressed look in her direction, but said nothing, allowing the weight of the silence and her own conscience to pry the confession out of her.

“Gah! Ok, fine! We maybe, kinda, sorta—snuckoneofEda’spotionstotryandfindthesecretofhercoolmagicpowersandaccidentlyspillediteverywhere. But! In my defense, I thought it would help me learn magic! I had no idea it was to stop Eda from turning into,” she flapped an anxious hand. “Big Bird’s creepy older cousin.”

Hunter blinked, needing a few seconds to translate half of her prattle into sensible words. When he had finished interpreting, he sighed, carefully pinching the bridge of his nose. “Human…”

“I didn’t know!” She whined, her pained expression betraying her guilt. “I swear, I would have never touched the stuff if I knew.”

Hunter shook his head. “Where did you even get the idea that a potion, of all things, could give you access to magic? That’s not how it works. Witches are born with—”

“Born with a giant bile sac on their hearts that creates bile which gives them their magic powers,” she huffed. “I know, I know. And humans don’t have bile sacs. I just,” she wilted, staring down at the floor as she eeked one toe along the tile lines. “I was hoping I could find my own way to do magic. But no matter how I try, I can’t make my circles do anything.” She traced an empty circle in the air for emphasis. “King said—I mean, I thought the potions would help. But taking one only made everything worse.”

Hunter shifted his gaze reluctantly to the rat. “You…knew where the Owl Lady kept her elixir?”

“Of course I knew!” The rat blustered, only to puff out his chest a second later, holding his head high as he pointed a claw at Hunter. “But if you’re not mad at Luz, you can’t get mad at me, either! Eda never told me nothing about turning into a giant, demon-eating owl-monster!”

“Do you think you can find another one?”

“Huh?” The furball froze, seeming to need a second to process the question. He rallied himself quickly; however, bouncing on the balls of his hind paws and nodding eagerly. “’Course I can! I know where Eda keeps everything around here! Just leave it to me!”

Hunter repressed the urge to groan. Nine Covens, was he really going to have to accept the help of a titan ki—of a self-aggrandized demon wannabe to solve this mess?

In the distance, the floorboards creaked and cracked under the hasty paw-steps of the Owl Beast.

…Well, that answered that question, didn’t it? “Fine,” Hunter ground out, turning back to the kitchen door. “Here’s what’s going to happen: You and the human are going to gather up as many of the elixirs as you can find, while I distract the Owl Beast. Once you get them, come find me and we’ll see about turning the Owl Beast back into the Owl B—witch.”

The human frowned. “Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?”

Hunter nodded, slipping into the confidence and courage of the Golden Guard like a familiar mask.  “I’ll be fine. Now, go! The sooner you two find the elixirs, the sooner we can put this whole mess behind us!”

The human returned his nod, throwing a playful, sloppy salute his way. Hunter resisted the urge to correct her form. “You can count on us! Just…be careful, ok Caleb? Secrets and weird boiling rain immunities aside, you’re my friend. Even when you’re being grumpy. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ve fought tougher beasts before, human.” Hunter retorted, prowling towards the kitchen door. “Just hurry up and find those potions!”

“C’mon, Luz!” The furball tugged on her arm, pulling her towards the backdoor to the living room. “I know I’ve seen Eda stick some bottles in the mirror in the hallway!”

The human followed reluctantly, shooting Hunter one more concerned glance as she trailed in the rat’s wake. “Don’t you mean by the mirror? Or under it?”

“Nope!”

Hunter snorted as the two disappeared from sight, flexing his own claws once or twice, the way a large tliger might before getting ready to confront an intruder trying to muscle in on its territory. He appreciated the sentiment, but it was entirely unnecessary.

He wasn’t the one the human should be worrying about.

Luz and King crept through the Owl House, gathering bottles from under dressers, in between couch cushions, even the underside of the ceiling fan. They stuck close to the walls, using the frozen drywall as a guide through the shadowy house. “So, uh,” Luz hummed as she shuffled forward, taking precious care not to overbalance the vials in her arms. They couldn’t afford to break another one—not now, with a cursed Eda still hunting them (hunting Caleb) from the shadows. “I guess we know why Eda drinks so many of these now.”

“Yeah, guess so,” King huffed, not meeting her eyes as he reached through the hall mirror, pulling out another potion.

“King…”

The small demon flinched, shoving the potion into her arms and turning away quickly. “I’m gonna go check the balcony. I think I saw Eda burying something under one of the houseplants out there once.”

“King, wait!” Luz hastily readjusted her hold, stumbling after her smaller friend.

“There’s no time! You heard Jerkface! We have to find as many of these potions as we can! Or else Eda might…” he trailed off and shook himself roughly, either unable or unwilling to finish that thought. “We have to hurry!”

Luz watched as he ran to one of the largest pots, shoving both claws into the soft mulch with no consideration for the worms and maggots that slithered through the dirt. He dug frantically, bits of soil flying from the container as he tore furrows around the seedy-looking plant. She sighed. “King…what happened to Eda wasn’t your fault. You know that right?”

He froze, staring at the dirt as if he could see through it to the cure buried underneath. Luz didn’t know if demons could do that, but at this point, she wasn’t willing to write off anything. If rain could boil and witches could turn into beasts, why couldn’t demon kids have x-ray vision? “I-I know that,” King retorted quickly. “Obviously it’s not my fault. Eda didn’t tell me. And, sure, maybe I just assumed the potions were what was making her stronger, but so what? I mean, she takes them every day. And she’s supposed to be strongest witch on the Boiling Isles, but I’ve known her my whole life, and I’ve never seen her actually do anything to get stronger. She doesn’t train and she hates studying and-and she doesn’t do anything except make potions and steal human junk and commit petty crimes to annoy the coven scouts.” He hunched over the flowerpot, squeezing his eyes closed. “If anyone could find a way to cheat at magic, I figured it would be Eda. And I thought maybe if I gave you just one potion, you would have a little bit of magic and then you’d want to learn more about demons with me. But Eda wasn’t cheating. Those potions are her medicine, and she didn’t take enough and now she’s a monster and we have to save her, but I don’t know how because now she’s big and scary and she doesn’t know who we are and she ate the snaggleback and—”

“Whoa, King!” Luz set the bottles down carefully and slowly approached the panicking demon. “It’s ok. We’re going to figure this out. Eda’s not going to be stuck like this forever, I promise.”

“How do you know for sure?” King questioned, cracking his eyes open just enough for Luz to see the fear reflected in them. “What if the potions don’t work? Or Caleb can’t keep her distracted long enough? Or she escapes into the forest or gets out into Bonesborough, and the coven scouts catch her? There’s a million ways this plan could fail, Luz! She could get arrested or hurt or hurt someone else and it would be all my fault!”

“You’re right,” Luz sighed. “I don’t know for sure. I guess none of us do. But I do know that Eda’s my friend, just like you and Caleb. And I don’t give up on my friends. So, if this plan doesn’t work, well, then I guess we’ll just have to come up with another one that will. And if Eda gets out of the Owl House, then we’ll go after her and bring her back, just like she would do for us. We won’t quit until she’s back to normal, ok?” She smiled, trying to pour every ounce of hope and confidence she had into the expression. It must have worked, because after staring at her for a minute, King slowly nodded.

“We don’t quit until she back to normal,” he parroted shakily.

“Exactly. And King?” She waited until he met her eyes. “I meant what I said before: what happened isn’t your fault. You didn’t know any more than I did about the curse.”

He glanced down. “I still shouldn’t have been messing with her stuff. Even if I thought it was a cheat potion.”

“Well, yeah. But you were trying to help me. And it wasn’t like I said no when you offered, either.” He still wouldn’t look at her, so she nudged his shoulder lightly. “Hey, if you think about it, it’s just as much my fault as it is yours. That just means we’re gonna have to work together to fix it. Whaddya say, Boo Boo Buddy?”

King perked up, the fear in his eyes receding slightly. “I’m kinda over the nickname,” he admitted. “But the rest of it sounds pretty good to me.” He paused and turned back to the pot, raking his claws carefully through the dirt. The slower, gentle motion shook the last clumps of soil enough to reveal a bottle of glowing amber liquid. “Look, Luz! We found it!”

“That makes six now,” Luz counted as she placed the new potion with the rest. “Can you think of any more places Eda might have stored a potion?”

King shook his head. “That was the last one I knew about.”

Luz nodded. “Alright, then, it’s on to phase 2: getting Eda to actually drink this stuff while she’s still in Owl Beast mode.”

King blinked up at her, and she stared down at King.

“Uh, how exactly are gonna do that?” The tiny demon asked.

“We need a way to distract her somehow…”

Seconds turned to minutes as the two puzzled their problem. Suddenly, King clacked his claws together, creating a noise that was very similar to someone snapping their fingers. “Her eyes—she’s sensitive to the light, remember? Luz, doesn’t your human wonder rectangle make flash box light, too?”

“My phone! I completely forgot! Good idea, King!” She pulled out her phone, only to frown when she noticed the cracked screen. King peered over her shoulder.

“What happened to it?”

“It must have gotten damaged when we fell down the steps. Or one of the times when Eda took a swipe at us.” She swiped across the screen, trying to navigate back to the main screen, but nothing happened. She repeated the gesture a few times, pressing harder and shaking the phone fruitlessly. “Aw, it’s completely busted! I can’t get to the camera.”

King drooped. “But the other flash boxes are all broken, too. And the house lights will be out as long as Hooty is. Luz, whadda we do?”

“Luz bit her lip. “I don’t know. If only I were a witch, then I could cast the light spell myself—” she broke off with a gasp. “Wait a minute! I may not be a witch, but Caleb is. He can cast the light spell for us!”

King frowned. “I’m not so sure about that. I’ve never seen Jerkface use magic before. Not downstairs; not even when we were fighting that even bigger jerk Adagast. Remember? Eda was casting spell circles left and right, but he only used that knife of his. Same thing when Eda was about to skewer him in the basement: he didn’t even try to cast a spell.”

Luz paused. “Huh. That is kind of weird. But maybe he’s just self-conscious about his magic. My friend Willow was until she started doing plant magic. Maybe he just needs to find the right kind of magic for him.” She shook her head and started gathering up the bottles again. “It doesn’t really matter right now, though. This is an emergency! Caleb’s a witch and Eda said the light spell is one of the most basic spells, so he has to know it! He’ll cast it and we’ll get the Owl Beast to drink all these potions and turn back to normal and everything will be ok!”

King stared at her for a moment. “You have no idea how much I want to believe that,” he sighed, before bending down and helping her gather the last remaining vials. 

Hunter prowled through the upper levels of the Owl House, his ears constantly swiveling to catch the lightest creak of a floorboard, his eyes glowing faintly as they peered through the veil of murky shadows. The silence grated on him more than he wanted to admit. He’d tracked enough beasts, criminals, and enemies of the Empire in his time to know that silence during a hunt usually meant that his target was either attempting to hide or was lying in wait, planning an ambush of their own. And thus far, the Owl Beast had hardly proven to be the type of creature to try to avoid conflict or confrontation. He reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a small cache of hollowed throwing darts. They were filled with a mild paralytic potion that would hopefully be enough to disable the Owl Beast until the civilians could arrive with her elixirs.

…Just what was taking them so long, anyway? Had the rat overestimated his knowledge of the Owl Lady’s hiding places? Or was their absence, along with the Beast’s mysterious disappearance, due to more sinister reasons? Perhaps the creature was aware their group had divided and had, like most predators, sought to go after the weaker, easier prey.

The thought made Hunter’s stomach roil. Regardless of the hand she had in this mess, he had no desire to see the human come to harm. (Whether or not he desired the same outcome for the rat was a more complex topic, and not one he could afford to dwell on at the present). He growled lowly in irritation, a deep, rumbling noise that should have been impossible for him to produce given the size of his chest and general witch-like appearance.

The sound of feathers ruffling overhead, combined with a sudden, shrill shriek, caused him to snap his head up just in time to see his target swooping down on him from the rafters.

Hunter’s eyes widened and he threw himself to one side, narrowly avoiding a swipe from the Beast’s large claws. The Owl Beast peered down at him, clacking her beak threateningly as she slunk across the floor, belly low to the ground.

Hunter rolled one of the darts between his fingers, part of his mind drifting back to Head Witch Eberwolf’s passionate lectures on beast behaviors and body language. He couldn’t be certain—Beastkeeping was never his forte—but the way the Owl Beast eyed him as she circled around him, the way her feathers puffed up to make her appear twice as large, the way she kept screeching and whistling and snapping her sharp beak…it almost looked like she was afraid.

Bile rose in Hunter’s throat. Of course she was afraid: she was a beast. And unlike witches and demons, true beasts were neither deceived nor limited by what they could see. Beasts, even cursed ones, would always recognize the presence of a predator—of a monster. Even one that wore the form of a witch.

The Owl Beast cried out again, evidently taking notice of Hunter’s distraction. She lunged forward, her beak piercing the air and clamping down around Hunter’s arm with a sickening clack. She gave a harsh shake, pulling back her head and drawing him forward in the same motion.

Hunter gritted his fangs and shoved the shame down into that small, dark place in his mind. There would be plenty of time to ruminate on the nature of his disgrace later—after the Owl Lady was back to normal. Or as normal as she ever was, anyway.

The Beast bore down even harder, her fear lending her a manic strength, and Hunter allowed himself a split-second of gratitude for the enhanced durability his…condition afforded him, before leaning over and plunging three of the darts into her side in quick succession.

The Beast squawked—in surprise or pain, Hunter couldn’t tell—and released him to pluck the offending darts from her side. This time Hunter took advantage of the situation, vaulting over a desk before spinning on his heel, sending two more projectiles flying from his fingertips.

The Owl Beast narrowed her eyes and flapped a giant wing, blowing them back with the force of the displaced air. Hunter grunted and reached for another dart, only for his hand to close around empty space. He swallowed tightly, one hand grazing the handle of a knife as the Beast stalked towards him.

Criminal or not, he didn’t really want to hurt the Owl Lady…

Fortunately, the human chose that moment to race into the room, arms laden with amber vials, and rat in tow. “Caleb! We found the potions!”

“Great!” Hunter called over his shoulder as he dodged another rabid blow. “We need to get her to drink them!”

“I have a plan for that!” The human shouted back. “Just cast the light spell—that’ll blind her the same way the cameras would have, and we can feed her the potions while she’s distracted!”

Yeah. That…that wasn’t really going to work. Hunter snatched up a couch cushion, thrusting it forward as the Owl Beast once again tried to jab him with her beak. “I can’t!”

“What do you mean you can’t? You’re a witch! You have the magic bile sac thing, right?”

The cushion flickered a pale pink in his hands, the light fading out just as her bill made contact with it. The glow reignited seconds later and the Beast seemed to freeze, unable to push her beak the rest of the way through and equally unable to pull it free. She tossed her head angrily, feathers drifting to the ground like snowflakes on the Kneecaps, and turned away from Hunter, shifting her weight onto her back legs so that her front paws would be free to try and pry the giant pad off her face.

Hunter wasted no time in racing to the civilians’ side. “We need to take cover, now! That cushion won’t hold her forever!” He could already see the sides of the hole beginning to fray.

“Over here,” The rat squeaked, gesturing to the overturned desk.

Hunter frowned; the battered furniture had been knocked towards one of the corners, creating a hollow that was hardly the most defensible of positions.

The Owl Beast gave another muttered squawk, falling backwards in her fervor to remove the cushion. The floor shook with the force of her descent, causing the human to nearly lose her grip on several of the precariously balanced bottles. Hunter quickly reevaluated his judgement. “Everyone behind the desk! Now!”

The three of them dove—or in the human’s case, very carefully jogged—toward the hollow. Hunter cautiously peered over the top of their makeshift garrison, before allowing himself a brief sigh of relief. The Beast either hadn’t noticed them taking cover, or more likely, had disregarded them completely in favor of attempting to free herself from the cushion.

“How has she not broken free yet?” Hunter muttered as he ducked back down. It was meant to be a rhetorical question, so he was somewhat surprised when the furball of all people waved an impatient paw.

“Eda enchanted her furniture to be scratch-proof years ago. She said it was because Hooty like to carve ‘positivity messages’ into everything and she got tired of having to replace all her stuff just because he got bored.” The gremlin paused, squinting suspiciously. “I’m suddenly not sure if she was really trying to protect her junk from him, or from herself.”

“Either way, it looks like the spell started to weaken at some point—luckily for us,” Hunter grunted. He would probably be a witch-shaped shish kabab if the enchantment hadn’t given way when it did.

“Yeah, that’s great and everything,” the human nodded breathlessly. “But it’s not exactly going to help us turn Eda back.” She looked at Hunter, frowning. “We need someone to cast the light spell so we can get her to drink all these. You—you can do that, right?”

“Not exactly.” Hunter muttered. Two sets of eyes stared at him, wide and fearful, and behind him another crash resounded through the air as the Owl Beast continued to wrestle with her fluffy muzzle. He grimaced. “Look, the truth is…I’m bile void, ok?”

“Hah, I knew it!” The furball crowed, pointing at him triumphantly. “Didn’t I tell you, Luz? Jerkface doesn’t have any magic!”

Hunter felt a vein begin to pulse along his forehead and he had to forcibly bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snarling out the threat that burned so readily on the tip of his tongue. “Neither do you, pest,” he seethed.

“But,” the human interrupted, her forehead wrinkling. “You’re a witch. I thought all witches could do magic.”

Hunter sighed. “Most of us can, yes. But every so often you get one who’s born with an impaired bile sac. It’s either too small, or it doesn’t produce enough bile for the witch to use magic, or it does, but then it fails to properly convert the bile into usable magic energy. There’s a variety of things that could go wrong with an infant’s bile sac in development, but the result is usually unnaturally weak magic and magic stamina, or if the individual is particularly unlucky, no magical ability at all. Bile void is the catch-all term for the latter condition.”

“That’s horrible,” the human breathed. “Caleb, I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously. How could you know? You just learned about how magic is produced earlier today, and I doubt the self-proclaimed ‘strongest witch on the Boiling Isles’ would have even thought to mention that some witches are simply born incapable of magic.” He studied the human’s sorrowful expression for a moment before shaking his head slightly. “Look, you don’t need to feel sorry for me. I didn't loose anything. I’ve never had magic, and while having it probably would have made certain things in my life easier, it’s not like being bile void has ever prevented me from accomplishing my goals. All it means is that I’ve had to find other ways to reach the same ends.”

A spark entered the human’s eyes then, and she visibly perked up, the corners of her mouth twisting thoughtfully. “Other ways…”

“What?”

“You said you had to find other ways to accomplish your goals. Eda said something like that when she was teaching me about spell circles.” The human dug into her pocket, pulling out her ‘sell fone’. She held it up, revealing a grainy, frozen video of an exhausted Owl Lady casting a sloppy spell circle. “She said witches had a way of doing magic differently in the past, but she didn’t know how. Maybe if we can figure out how they used to do it, we can cast the light spell ourselves now—fully functioning bile sacs not required!”

Hunter snorted. “That’s a terrible idea!”

“Why?”

“Because…because it just is!” The human raised an eyebrow, shooting him a distinctly unimpressed look. Hunter groaned. “Human, I’m serious. What you’re talking about, what the ancient witches used to do: it’s wild magic. It’s dangerous.”

“More dangerous than that?” The rat scoffed, pointing at the struggling Owl Beast.

Hunter leveled a flat look at the exasperating furball. “Wild magic is the reason the Beast exists at all.”

The little gremlin actually had the gall to sneer at him.  “Just what’s that supposed to mean? Eda’s the strongest wild witch there ever was...somehow! She’s not cursed because of her own dumb magic!”

“That just proves how little you know,” Hunter retorted, turning his attention back to the human. “Wild magic corrupts everything and everyone it touches. It’s insidious, giving the illusion of freedom and self-control, when in reality, it warps your true magic into something twisted. The longer a witch remains under its thrall, the more corrupt they become, until finally they become as dark and vile as the wild magic that taints them. Just like Vek—like the Owl Beast.”

“I don’t really understand all this wild magic stuff,” the human admitted. “But I do know Eda’s in trouble. We have to help her, Caleb.” She glanced over the makeshift barricade, her eyes softening. Hunter reluctantly followed her line of sight, frowning as he watched the Beast slam herself into one of the walls, leaving a deep imprint behind. Her claws still raked ineffectively at the cushion, yanking desperately as she struggled to remove it. Pity, or something close it, pricked at Hunter’s stone heart, and he quickly glanced away again, drumming his fingers restlessly against his leg.

No one deserved to be cursed by wild magic. Not even a foolish wild witch who thought herself powerful enough to command its power for her own.

Oh, damn it all to wherever the fuck Titan’s spirit had ended up. And damn him too, for good measure.

He groaned, hating what he was about to do more and more with each treacherous second. If the Emperor ever found out about this—

Well. Let’s just say it was best if the Emperor never found out about a lot of things, at least not until his curse was broken. Though with everything he’d seen today, Hunter had to admit he was starting to wonder if the potions could even manage to do that much, or they were merely a stopgap, a temporary solution to a much more enduring problem.

He shook the thought forcefully from his head. Priorities. Dealing with the Owl Beast was the immediate problem; for the moment everything else had to come in second. “You need a glyph,” he muttered bitterly, fighting to force the words past the sour taste of treason.

The human drew her gaze back to him, confusion joining the worry shining in her eyes. “What?”

“A glyph: that’s what the Owl Lady was talking about before, though I doubt a featherbrain like her knows enough history to recognize the name,” Hunter spat caustically. The human pursed her lips, likely at the insult to her mentor’s intelligence, but Hunter couldn’t really find it in himself to care. This was the second time he had broken the law for the sake of the Owl Lady, of all people. He was allowed to be a little hostile about it.

The human glared at him, but evidently chose not to reproach him in favor of pursuing the more important questions: “What’s a glyph? And how do we get one?”

“Glyphs are how the ancient witches first used magic. Before the death of the Titans, no witches had bile sacs and the demon race didn’t exist—”

“Titans?” The human asked with all the attention span of a goldfish. “What are they?”

Hunter scowled, but before he could reprimand her for interrupting, the furball just had to cut in as well.

“I know this one! The Titans were a race of giant creatures with crazy magic powers—even more powerful than Eda!”

“Hardly a high bar to clear,” Huntter muttered.

“They were a wise and benevolent people—”

Hunter scoffed. Loudly. “They were monsters,” he sneered. “A race of killers who subjugated the earliest witches because they could! Because no one was powerful enough to stop them!”

“That’s not true!” The rat screeched, jabbing a claw under his nose. Hunter leaned back with a fearsome glower and did not fantasize about ripping off the offending appendage and throwing it to the Owl Beast for a snack.

Really.

The human, ever a mediator, raised her hands in the apparently cross-dimensional gesture for peace. “Woah, woah! Take it easy! Let’s all just breathe for a minute, ok? King, buddy, maybe give Caleb some space? And Caleb, could you please stop glaring at King like you want to punch him in face?”

“Oh, does it show?”

“I heard that!”

“Congratulations; you’re not deaf.”

“Guys!”

The rat pouted, but obligingly waddled back to the human, grumbling all the while. Hunter clenched his jaw so hard he thought his fangs would crack and forcefully shoved the hatred back down. The human was right; they couldn’t allow themselves to be distracted right now. “Fine. As I saying, the mass extinction of the Titans altered life in the Demon Realm catastrophically. Their magic soaked into the land, creating the Boiling Isles. Demons arose from the muck of their decomposing bodies, and witches—those who survived—produced children with altered anatomy, and from that anatomy: the ability to produce magic without a glyph.”

“Woah,” the human breathed, her eyes wide. “But what about the glyphs? Where did they come from? And how do we find one?”

“The first witches learned glyphs from nature—hence the term wild magic. As for where you’re supposed to find one now…I don’t have a clue.”

The human’s expression fell. “How can you not know?”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “There isn’t exactly a written compendium of glyphs in the Imperi—in the library, you know. As generations passed, more and more of the population began to be born with a bile sac and parents no longer needed to teach their children how to use glyphs. Eventually, that knowledge was lost to time.”

Silenced reigned for few seconds, broken only by the dull thumps echoing behind them. The furball was the one to find his voice first, swallowing and staring uncertainly up at Hunter, his earlier bravado failing. “But if no one knows how to use glyphs, how can we use the light spell on Eda? How can we turn her back to normal?”

Hunter glanced instinctively back at the Owl Beast, back at the cushion that was still flickering with a fading pink light. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly. The rat's expression crumpled further, his eyes suspiciously shiny in the dim light. For the first time since this nightmare had begun, he looked less like a Titan, less like a faceless target, and more...innocent. More helpless. Like a lost child trying to find his parents.

Hunter sighed and forced a note of confidence into his voice that he certainly didn’t feel. “But I’ll think of something. We’ll get her to drink these potions even without the light spell; don’t worry.”

“How?” The gremlin wondered, his voice trapped in that odd, wavering place between fear and hope.

Hunter hesitated.

That was the million-snail question, wasn’t it?

Chapter Text

Hunter peered over the barricade as the Owl Beast slammed her massive form against the edge of the couch, sending half of it sliding toward the kitchen. The pink glow flickered yet again, and Hunter counted the seconds between the bursts of light pensively, tensing as the Beast threw back her head a fraction of a second too late. The hole around her maw tore further, but the improvised muzzle miraculously held.

For now.

He turned back to the others, running his fingers over the handle of his knife almost reflexively. They needed a plan, and soon.

The furball sat in the middle of the collection of potions, fiddling with one of the vials. “What if we threw the potions at her? We could wait until she gets the cushion off then, whammo!” He slammed one (thankfully empty) paw into the other. “Hit her with everything we’ve got! If we aim for her face, she’s bound to swallow at least a little bit.”

Hunter drew on every scrap of self-control and diplomacy he had ever possessed as the Golden Guard just to keep his tone neutral as he responded, “Where’d you learn strategy, the crystal ball? That’s a terrible idea. There’s no way to ensure that the Owl Beast will consume enough of the elixir if we attempt a ranged attack. And there’s too much of a risk that we might miss the Beast altogether and hit something else. We can’t afford to waste our resources.”

“Well, if you have any better ideas, I’d love to hear them.”

The retort should have been snarky, and perhaps in any other situation it would have been. Right now, though, it just came across as plaintive. Hunter scoffed, moreso to hide his growing discomfort than anything else, and shifted his gaze to the human instead.

He didn’t have any better ideas, but he should. It was his job to devise the plan, to give the orders and ensure that those who followed him not only succeeded in their missions but made it home safe. If he couldn’t even do that much…

The human was still struggling with her low-tech scroll, shaking and tapping on it furiously. Hunter frowned. “Human, we’re running out of time. Quit playing with your ‘sell fone’ and help us brainstorm a solution.”

“I’m not playing,” the human argued. “I’m trying to get my camera to work.

“A waste of effort,” Hunter retorted. “Unless your camera function can produce the flash of a hundred disposable human cameras, it won’t be bright enough to disable the Owl Beast.”

She finally looked up at him. “But back in the basement—”

“In the basement, our objective was merely to distract the Beast so that we might be able to press our advantage. Now we need to immobilize her long enough to force-feed her multiple elixirs.” Hunter lectured. “We would need a much brighter light to accomplish that.”

The human wilted, though a glimmer of determination still flashed in her eyes. “There has to be something we can do. Do we…maybe have some rope or a box—something we can use to make a trap?”

“Probably. But I’m not sure we’d be able to find it in time. In case you haven’t noticed, the Owl Lady isn’t exactly the most organized witch on Boiling Isles.”

“What if we poured the potion on some leftover gryphon eggs? Or spiked a bowl of appleblood and left it out for her?” The rat wondered as tapped his claws nervously against one of the bottles.

Hunter gritted his fangs at the irritating sound but shoved down the knee-jerk retort on his tongue. That…could actually work.

Maybe. If they could conceal the elixirs’ scent well enough. And if they could get the Beast to focus on the cold, meager offering rather than the fresh, living prey lurking nearby.

“I would not advise mixing the potion with hard appleblood.” Hunter stated firmly. The furball’s expression fell at what he assumed was another rejection, and Hunter allowed himself a brief moment to revel in the gremlin’s disappointment. It soothed the sting of having to admit, “but concealing the elixir inside a leftover meal could work, if we’re careful.”

The rat blinked, as though he suddenly didn’t understand Witchin*. “Wait a minute. You’re actually agreeing with me? But you’re Jerkface. And I’m King.”

“Believe me, I’m just as disturbed by the notion as you are. But,” Hunter heaved a sigh from the very depths of his being. “It actually is a pretty decent idea. Not to mention the only one we have at the moment.”

The rat stared at him for a second, before smirking and raising a paw to cup the side of his head. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“Keep pushing it; you’ll catch something alright.”

The rat stuck his tongue out at him, his tail wagging happily behind him. The sight was…more endearing than Hunter wanted to admit. He scowled and leaned forward to snatch up one of the bottles for himself, careful to only reach for the ones furthest away from the vexing little creature. “Based on the fact that the Owl Beast hunted and ate a snaggleback, as well as each of our observations regarding her predatory like behavior, we can safely assume that she’s either a carnivore or an omnivore. Does anyone know if the Owl Lady has enough meat in her fridge to smother the taste of the elixirs?”

“I know she was planning on cooking a flying pork roast tonight,” the human offered. “Would that be enough?”

“Depends on how big the roast is. But it’s a start.” Hunter glanced pensively between the two civilians. Someone had to leave the barricade, steal into the kitchen, drug the meat, and get close enough to the Owl Beast to present the offering. It was a dangerous mission, to say the least.

His ears flicked backward at the soft sound of fabric ripping.

It was a very dangerous mission. Whomever went would need to either have the speed and agility necessary to avoid the Beast, or they would risk coming to great peril in the hopes that she would prefer a cold, greasy cut of pig over warm, fleshy witch, human, and ‘demon’ shaped munchies. 

Neither the human nor the rat had that kind of skill.

Hunter did, but the Owl Beast would never accept food tainted by the scent of a mon—by his scent. It would have to be one of them.

Hunter scrubbed a hand over his face; this was the aspect of leadership he despised the most. At least as the Golden Guard, when he sent scouts into danger, he could take comfort at the fact they were trained and skilled enough to have a chance at survival. He had no such assurance with these two. In fact, his previous experiences suggested quite the opposite.

He sighed, studying the vial in his hands to avoid looking at either of them. The human or the rat? Admittedly, it wasn’t the most impossible choice in the world. Actually, all else being equal, he knew very well which one he would be more comfortable (maybe even content) putting in harm’s way.

But all else wasn’t equal. Whomever he sent would also have to understand how to subtly drug the meat and possess the physical strength necessary to carry an entire pork roast from the kitchen to the living room.

The latter requirement unfortunately invalidated his personal preference.

He turned towards the human. “Do you know how to conceal elixirs in fodder well enough that the Beast won’t be able to smell it?”

The human crinkled her forehead, but nonetheless answered, “Sure? I mean, I’ve never drugged anything with a potion, obviously, but I help Mamí slip medicine to injured coyotes and raccoons all the time. It’s probably not that different, right?”

Hunter had no clue what a ‘coyote’ or a ‘racoon’ was, so he couldn’t even begin to gage the similarities to their current situation. But regardless, it seemed that the human was their best chance at repressing the Owl Beast.

…Although, maybe the furball could be convinced to tag along, anyway? For moral support or whatever?

A loud riiiiip! tore through his thoughts, followed by an even more piercing screech. Hunter flinched, not at all surprised to see the Owl Beast standing over a shredded pillow, panting angrily as she stomped the last of the offending feathers into flattened, broken replicas of their true form.

They were officially out of time.

“Human, take the potions to the kitchen and drug the meat! I’ll distract the Beast until you return!”

The human frowned, but fortunately didn’t argue this time, pausing only long enough to slip her ‘fone’ into her pocket as she began to gather up the bottles. 

The rat pushed himself to his feet. “Hey, what about me? I wanna help too!”

Then again, maybe Hunter wouldn’t exactly need to twist his arm, after all. “You know what? Why not? I could use something else for the Beast to aim at.”

“I meant I wanted to help Luz!”

“Guys, there’s no time!” The human interrupted. “King, please listen to Caleb. Caleb, don’t let King get hurt!”

“Hmm, no promises.”

“Caleb!”

Hunter opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, a large paw slammed against the desk, tearing a jagged hole in the half-rotted wood. The human screamed, the rat squealed, and all three of them leapt in different directions. Hunter spun on his heel, watching as the human darted into the kitchen and the furball tried to duck under the Beast’s large forepaw.

Try being the operative word. She quickly zeroed in on the tiny creature, moving her limb only to send it crashing down over the runt a second later. He quickly leapt out of the path, panting heavily as he scurried with a squirrel-like grace up the towering bookcase. “Ok! I take it back! I don’t wanna help anymore!”

The Owl Beast didn’t seem to care what he wanted; she roared and shoved the bookcase with enough force to send it crashing to the ground. The gremlin whimpered as it descended, half-jumping, half-falling to ground to land in an unwieldly heap of fur and bones amid a pile of overturned books and scattered knickknacks.

Hunter cursed under his breath and snatched up a chunk of splintered wood wide and thick enough to serve as a semi-decent club. He snarled loudly, a haunting noise that made the Beast snap her head around to face him, her feathers and fur poofing out as she lowered herself to the ground, eyes narrowed uneasily.

(The gremilin jumped back too, pressing himself against the far wall and staring at Hunter, his small frame trembling). “Wha-what was that? Since when can you do that?” He squawked.

“Stay back and don’t ask questions!” Hunter snapped, his voice still rumbling as he spoke. If he stopped to think about what he was doing—the kind of creature he was choosing to defend—he would lay down his weapon and let the Owl Beast finish the job right then and there.

So, he didn’t think; he rushed forward, raising the club like a sword and slashing out at the Beast before it could strike him. The hunk of wood hit her squarely on the shoulder and she snapped at him in turn, her beak flying towards his head like an arrow. Hunter turned and dodged, his eyes flaring crimson as thunder rolled overhead.

The hunt was on.

Luz picked her way through the kitchen, bumping slightly into chairs and stubbing her toe on the cauldron as she made her way to the fridge. She kept a death-grip on the potions as she moved, unwilling to risk a single bottle tumbling from her arms. For all she knew, it could take every vial they had to turn Eda back to normal.

Even that might not be enough.

Luz pursed her lips and shook her head firmly. Don’t think like that! The potions would be enough. They had to be enough; Eda wouldn’t keep drinking them all the time if they weren’t effective.

Right?

She nibbled on the inside of her cheek as she carefully laid down her burdens to tug the refrigerator open. She’d meant what she told King out on the balcony: they weren’t going to quit until Eda was back to normal! But…if the cure didn’t work, Luz wasn’t sure exactly how else they could accomplish that. Maybe they could find a handsome prince to break the spell with true love’s kiss? That’s how it always worked in the movies!

…Did the Boiling Isles even have royalty, though? Or was the whole, “true love can break any dark curse” a made-up cliché for storytelling, just like the whole ‘Chosen One’ drama?

Luz sighed long and hard as she rummaged through the fridge; who knew magic was so complicated! Luckily, it didn’t take her too long to find the roast, and she pulled it out with a grunt, her arms only trembling a little as she struggled to lift the slab of meat that was bigger than her head.

Never let it be said that Eda didn’t go all out at any given opportunity.

She managed to get it on the ground without incident and quickly set about rubbing the amber liquid into the meat, just like Mamí had taught her. The finished product was a slightly orange-tinted roast that smelled only a little like a triple-decker chocolate cake with raspberry-swirl icing.

Luz grimaced. Well, maybe the Owl Beast wouldn’t notice. Or maybe she secretly liked triple-decker chocolate cake with raspberry swirl icing! Yeah, that was it! If anything, she would probably want to eat it more now!

Maybe. Hopefully. If Luz and her friends were lucky.

(They’d been pretty lucky not to get smushed or clawed or eaten already. How long could their luck possibly hold?)

No! Stop thinking like that! This was fine. The Owl Beast was going to eat the food and turn back into Eda, and everything was going to be fine.

Really.

Oh, but what if—

A howl broke Luz free from the circular thinking—a low, haunting, savage sound that made her heart stutter in her chest and her breath catch in her lungs. Cold fear washed down her spine and her skin prickled uncomfortably, every instinct her body screaming at her to run. Run as fast and as far away as she could and don’t look back because there was something dangerous nearby. Something deadly.

Luz was halfway to the door before she could think, her pulse thudding in her veins with a frantic rhythm that even the Owl Beast, as many times as she hunted her and her friends, hadn’t managed to inspire.

The Owl Beast had been scary, especially before they knew she was Eda, but that…that was terrifying, whatever it was. It was the cry of every predator as it closed in on prey, it was the sound of something creeping under the bed, the scrape of a shadow just beyond your sight. It was the rattle of bones in a graveyard and the echo of deep laughter closing in on you in a dark, lonely alley.

It was the ghastly call of fear itself, and it came from the living room. Where the Owl Beast was.

Where Luz’s friends were.

Luz squeezed her eyes shut, unable to help the small whimper that tore from her throat. Something had made that noise. And for the first time in her life, Luz had absolutely no desire to go and find out what it was.

But King was there. Caleb was there. Eda was there, albeit trapped in another form. What if it were a monster, a demon worse than the snaggleback, worse even than the Owl Beast. Was Luz really going to abandon them to the boogeyman, just because she was scared? Was she willing to risk Eda being trapped permanently in the mind of the Owl Beast just because of some dumb noise?

(A noise that made her heart thud loudly in her chest and sent beads of sweat pouring down her face. A noise that made her want to curl into a ball and hide away until the clouds broke, and the sun came out again and all the monsters disappeared like shadows in the light.)

No. Luz forced herself away from the corner of the room, inching back toward the roast on shaky, trembling legs, but still nonetheless determined. She’d never had friends before; she wasn’t about to lose these ones because of some stupid curse or haunted demon-monster or whatever was lurking in the shadows. She was Luz the human, and she was brave. She would protect her friends.

She hefted the plate up slowly, groaning and straining under the weight. Her weak nerd arms were not meant to lift platters of mythical meat bigger than her head, thank you very much. Still, with heavy footsteps and buckling knees, she slowly made her way back to the living room, cautiously poking her head through the doorway.

She didn’t see a monster. Of course, it was difficult for her to make out much in the inky darkness, except for the towering silhouette of the Owl Beast and the dark magenta glow of Caleb’s eyes.

At least, she hoped that was Caleb. Tensing slightly, she crept further into the room, trying as hard as she could to be silent.

It must have worked, because the Owl Beast didn’t so much as turn in her direction. Luz released a taut breath and snuck closer, awkwardly lowering the roast to the ground. Then, to draw the Beast’s attention, she stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a shrieking whistle.

That…didn’t work. At least, not as well as she thought it would. The Owl Beast was clearly a hunter, so the loud, shrill noise should’ve caused her to immediately turn her attention to Luz. Instead, she tensed, her feathers puffing up even more as she slowly tilted what Luz assumed was her head just enough to catch sight of her without fully taking her attention off of Caleb. Almost like she was reluctant to turn her back on him.

Huh, weird. But it probably had something to do with the broken chair leg he was brandishing in front of him like a sword.

Luz pushed the thought from her mind, resorting instead to jumping up and waving her hands to gain the Owl Beast’s focus. Animals in the human realm were attracted to movement; it probably worked the same way here, right?

“Heeey, Eda. Or, ah, Owl-Beast-formally-known as-Eda, I guess. Look what I brought you.” She slowly bent down and tapped the floor beside the plate, as if urging a stray cat to try a can of wet food. “Mmm, flying pork roast! Good, right?”

The Owl Beast turned a little more in her direction and Luz very slowly backed away from the food, so as not to startle her. Wild animals typically didn’t like people to be too close when they were eating.

She sniffed the air, a flash of lightning helpfully allowing Luz to see just how big her beak was compared to one toothpick-sized human girl. Luz gulped and backed up a little more. The Beast shifted her weight, as though she couldn’t quite decide if she wanted to risk going for the meat or not. She glanced back over her shoulder at Caleb and took one experimental step towards the plate.

What exactly she expected to happen, Luz couldn’t even begin to guess. But when he made no move against her, she let out an eager screech and raced forward, pouncing on the offering in a manner that reminded Luz more of a lion or a panther than a bird.

But the way her beak tore bloody furrows in the roast was definitely all avian. Luz grimaced and looked away—a stupid mistake on her part.

If not for King’s terrified warning, it might have been her last mistake.

The Owl Beast must have recognized the taste of the potion that kept her contained, because she spit out the wet, half-digested glob of meat contemptuously and let out an ear-piercing scream, her paw flying out to knock the offending roast—and Luz—to the side.

“Luz!”

“Human!”

Luz tried to jump out of the way, but she had neither King’s animalistic agility nor Caleb’s speedy responsiveness to fall back on. She managed to dodge the worst of the attack, but the Owl Beast’s claw clipped her leg, cutting a gash in the limb and sending her sprawling against the far wall.

She gasped and pushed herself up blindly, one hand covering the wound as she leaned back against the wall. The Beast towered over her with an angry roar, one paw raised to finish the job. Luz flinched, casting her gaze about desperately for anything that she could use to protect herself, but the only thing in arm’s reach was her smashed phone. She reached for it, only for the razor-sharp claws to descend in the same instant—primed and ready to tear into soft, supple human flesh.

Just before they could rip into Luz, however, a shadow appeared between the Owl Beast and her prey. A knife slashed out at the Beast, returning pain for pain, and a broken chair leg slammed into her side with enough force that Luz could almost feel a knot forming against her ribs.

Or maybe that was from almost knocking down a wall with her body—who could say, really?

“Caleb…” Luz panted.

He didn’t so much as turn in her direction. “Get out of here while you have the chance, human.”

“But I can’t just lea—”

“Fall back, now!” Caleb shouted. His voice, normally so dry and sarcastic and teenagerly, suddenly rang out in a way Luz had never heard before. It reminded her of the few times that Mamí had ordered her away from some dangerous animal or situation, and yet there was something almost…more commanding about it. As if Caleb were a policeman or a governor or a prince—someone used to wielding power and authority. Someone who knew his orders would be obeyed.

Between the oddly compelling timbre of his voice, the stabbing pain shooting up her leg, and the rush of adrenaline still surging through her veins, Luz quickly decided to humor him—just this once. She pushed herself up along the wall, gasping as she forced part of her weight onto her injured leg.

Another shadow darted closer, and Luz breathed a sigh of relief when she caught sight of a familiar pale skull weaving through the dull shadows. “King!”

The small demon slipped under her arm, tugging her hand over his shoulders. “C’mon, Luz, you gotta hurry! I’ll help you!”

“Gracias, mi amigo,” Luz panted, doing her best to keep from leaning too heavily on the short tyrant, despite her leg screaming in protest. “Wait, my phone!” She leaned down awkwardly to scoop it up, biting her lip to keep from shouting as her leg very much protested the extended burden of her weight.

“Is that really the most important thing right now?” King huffed, tugging her arm impatiently. “We’ve gotta go, Luz! Before Eda the Owl Beast gets bored of beating up Caleb and decides to come after us!”

“Got it!” Luz confirmed, pushing off with only a small whimper of pain. “Let’s get outta here!”

Together, the two scurried back into the kitchen as fast as Luz’s injury allowed, leaving only Caleb as the sole defense against the Beast. Luz gingerly dropped into a chair, wincing and flinching at every roar, every muffled taunt, every crack of wood, or snap of a beak that echoed from the living room. “We have to stop this! Someone could get hurt!”

King turned back to face her, a dubious glint in his eyes. “Uh, Luz, I got news for you. Someone’s already hurt, and I don’t think we have a band aid big enough to cover that.” He pointed at the slash in her leg.

 “It-it’s fine. I’ll be fine, King. Just…get me a washcloth, ok?” Her grimace deepened as she heard something slam against the far wall.

King frowned at her—she still wasn’t sure how he could do that without a visible mouth, but he did—but did as she asked anyway, darting over to the sink to fetch her a wet rag and…a roll of white gauze?

“Where’d you get that?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes when Eda cooks, the carrots like to bite back.”

Luz blinked at him. “…I have so many questions.” She accepted the bandages just the same, wiping the blood from her leg and wrapping the gauze around the cut. At least it didn’t look deep enough to need stiches.

A crash reached Luz’s ears, and she twitched uneasily, her gaze drawn to the door between the two rooms. King pressed closer, leaning against her uninjured leg. “He did what you said, you know.”

“What?”

“Jerkface. He protected me from the Owl Beast. It was really scary when he did it and he growled so loud I thought my heart would beat right out of my chest, but…he didn’t let Eda hurt me. He kept me safe.”

Luz rubbed the space between his horns. “Yeah. He’s pretty good at that—when he’s not on a soapbox about moral philosophy, anyway.”

“Huh?”

“Just something he said back in the basement—never mind, it’s not important.”

Another screech pierced the air and Luz stared at her hands, her stomach twisting guiltily. She couldn’t believe she was being forced to sit on the sidelines while one of her friends risked life and limb to stop the Beast. At least the other times Caleb had sent her away, she could still do something. She could still help. Sure, maybe the potions weren’t the miracle fix they’d all been hoping for, and the roast had ended up smooshed flat like a pancake under the Owl Beast’s paws, but at least she’d been a part of the plan. Now, she wasn’t even sure there was one. For all she knew, Caleb was just buying time trying to wear cursed Eda down or give them the chance to hide somewhere safe.

Well, if that was his goal, then he’d severely underestimated the tenacity of Luz Noceda! She wasn’t just going to stay down and do nothing while one of her best buds fought for his life against another one of their friends! No, siree! She would find a way to save them both!

…Somehow. Maybe.

(Hopefully.)

Luz sighed, fiddling with her phone again. It was more out of habit than anything else at this point; she just needed to do something with her hands. In fact, her attention was almost completely consumed with brainstorming ideas that were absolutely practical and rational and well-grounded, thank you very much inner voice critic. She was so distracted that she nearly missed the sudden burst of light from the small device.

Nearly. But the speakers made a sad little fzzt sound and the screen shone a little brighter than before and the video of Eda flashed on screen as the app opened and closed and opened again.

Luz groaned. It must have gotten even more busted when she crashed into the wall. She sighed, already in the process of slipping it into her pocket when she caught a glimmer of yellow out of the corner of her eye.

The spell circle was changing.

Lines appeared in the empty space, connecting the edges of the circle with sharp angles and bold edges. Luz turned to King stiffly, careful not to move the phone too much, lest the app crash again. “King, do you have a piece of paper? And a pen?”

The small demon squinted up at her. “You want to write a letter at a time like this?”

“No, I want to draw a picture.”

“What?”

Luz carefully lifted the phone for King to see. “I think…I think this might be one of those glyphs Caleb was talking about. I need to copy it down before my phone gives out again. Please tell me you know where to get drawing stuff!”

“You can use my Demon sketchbook!” King offered, flipping through the pages.  “There’s some empty space in the back. And I found this pen when Owl Beast Eda almost knocked a bookcase down on top of me!” He pulled a blue pen with a sparkly ruby topper out from…somewhere.

Actually, where did King keep storing stuff? He didn’t exactly have pockets in his fur coat—

Nope! This was not the time to get distracted! Focus, Luz! The glyph!

She took both the pen and the book with a muttered thanks and quickly layered a page over her phone. Fortunately, the sheet was thin enough for the symbol to shine through and Luz copied it down without a hitch. As she connected the two halves of the circle, King and Luz both waited with bated breath for a little globe of light to appear—the sign that the spell was complete.

Nothing happened.

Luz drooped. “Well, it was worth a try. I guess.” She sighed, picking up her phone and offering the sketchbook back to the small demon. “You can have your book back, King.”

King took it back with a furrowed brow, the tip of his claw curling into the page as he did. The moment he touched the symbol, it glowed a brilliant yellow and crumpled up the page, the edges of the sheet folding over and over until it transformed into a floating ball of light.

King and Luz stared—first at the ball, then at each other, then back at the ball again.

“The light spell…we did it,” Luz breathed in awe. “I really did it!”

“Uh, not to rain on your parade,” King interrupted. “But that’s a pretty small light. And the Owl Beast is kinda…not small. In fact, she’s huge! There’s no way that little ball is going to be able to stop her—she’ll just flick it away like she did to our supper.”

Luz laughed, unable to suppress the giddiness rising up in her chest. She finally had magic! She would be able to do so many amazing things, now!

Uh, starting with rescuing Caleb and turning Eda back to normal. That was very important. “No, it’s ok! Eda said earlier that the bigger a witch’s spell circle, the more powerful their spell. I bet the same holds true for glyphs! If we could make a really big version of it—”

“Then we could knock the Owl Beast out, no problem!” King cheered.

“Exactly!” Luz grinned. “I have a plan, but first we’ll need a way to get her attention.”

King hummed thoughtfully for a few seconds, before gasping and picking up the pen, twirling it so that the colored glass twinkled and sparkled in the light. “I think I have an idea!”

Hunter held his knife in front of him defensively, the scent of blood setting him even further on edge. The Beast cawed and grumbled as she loped in a tight circle around Hunter, forcing him to turn steadily to keep her in his sight. Again, flashes of Beastkeeping lore rose unbidden to his mind: animated discussions in beast-tongue about how scared beasts could be even more dangerous than wild beasts and how injured creatures could be the most threatening of all, under sufficient provocation.

Apparently, taking a slice out of the lumbering giant’s wing and cracking a few of her ribs to keep her from killing her own apprentice in a fit of rage counted as ‘sufficient provocation’. Who knew?

Hunter snapped his jaw at her, flashing his fangs in an open threat display—one he never would have initiated if anyone else had been present. But the Owl Lady likely wouldn’t remember a specific interaction between him and the Beast…if they ever managed to turn her back at all.

The human was injured, the rat could offer no tactical advantage, and Hunter alone stood as the final line of defense against a frightened and wounded Owl Beast. He was without his staff, had no way to call for help (if his scouts could even get here in time for it to matter), and the elixirs, the only magic Hunter knew for certain was capable of suppressing the curse, were wasted: rubbed into the raw skin of a beast that was currently stuck to the wall, dripping blood and flying pig fat onto the shattered baseboard.

The situation was bleak.

Bleak, but not hopeless. The Owl Lady may be lost to them, but her apprentice was still alive. Hunter was still alive. Even the rat was still plodding uselessly around somewhere. And Hunter would make sure they stayed that way.

Even if it meant informing Clawthorne that the Owl Lady had fallen along with her curse.

This was the aspect of leadership he hated the most.

The Owl Beast pounced at him, slashing with her claws. Hunter leapt back and circled around, darting only close enough to deliver a rapid series of blows to her back, before sprinting off again.

The Owl Beast may be big, but in terms of speed, that was a liability. He led her in a strange, violent dance, dodging swipes of the claw and snaps of the beak, and only ever getting close enough to wallop her with his club.

It did some damage, but not enough, and Hunter was neither foolish nor naive enough to assume this strategy would last indefinitely. Combat by attrition never did. He could keep avoiding her attacks, but not forever. He needed to fight more effectively and soon.

Hunter panted, ducking low to the ground to avoid a slash that would have cut through his neck and, very likely, his trachea as well. His knife was still cleaved to his hand, an ever-present weight. He could use it—he should use it. That was the smart thing to do.

Except he really didn’t want to be the one to tell Clawthorne that her sister had died a slave to her curse—and least of all, by his hand. That would be implicating himself in multiple activities that were unauthorized at best and borderline illegal at worst. Which was stupid. Therefore, using the more lethal weapon against his opponent was, in this one specific instance, was actually the more foolish course of action…

He threw himself into a controlled tumble, crashing into the side of the couch, but managing to avoid the bill aiming for his chest.

…Even if it meant he had to keep playing a glorified game of slitherbeast and echo mouse until he could come up with a better plan.

He narrowly avoided another jab, stumbling back and catching himself against the wall just in time. A flash of grey and pale white entered his peripheral, and he clenched his jaw, pushing off from the wall with a low groan.

Great. As if trying to figure out how to keep himself alive wasn’t challenging enough, the damn furball just had to waddle back in and give him another body to keep track of.

Ok, it was official: if the idiot ‘demon’ lacked enough self-preservation to figure out he needed to avoid the cursed psycho trying to kill him, he probably deserved to die. Survival of the least stupid or whatever.

That would hold up in a court of law, right?

He sighed and whacked at the Beast yet again, this time clipping her uninjured wing. He moved quickly, jumping over the bookcase and around the couch, leading his enemy closer to the window.

Only because the sporadic light from the storm would at least hamper her vision slightly. It was a tactical decision. The fact that it meant that the Beast’s back would be facing the doorway was immaterial.

Really.

Unfortunately, the rat didn’t seem to appreciate the unintended cover. He waltzed right into the room, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if the Owl Beast hadn’t already tried to eat him twice today.

Seriously, at this point, it wouldn’t even be feeding into the worst side of himself—it would just be letting nature take its course. There wasn’t a law in the land that would convict him for that.

The abhorrent creature held up a small pen, presenting it like it was a precious stone or polished gold, rather than cheap plastic and poorly cut glass. “Hey, Eda! Look what I got! See the sparkly? You want it?”

The Owl Beast cawed and turned her head slowly, craning her neck in a motion that made Hunter’s own muscles ache, just so she could keep both him and the furball in her sight.

Her eyes glimmered when she caught sight of the twinkling pen. She clacked her beak and raked her claws through the floorboards, half-turning her back on Hunter in her excitement.

…Huh. Eberwolf had never mentioned this. But Hunter could roll with it…assuming the furball had a plan and wasn’t just about to do something incredibly short-sighted and reckless.

Hunter edged carefully along the back wall, taking the long way around to avoid breaking whatever hold that shiny pen had over the Owl Beast. For once, she didn’t respond to his retreat.

“What are you up to?” Hunter demanded when he was close enough to interrogate the rat without drawing the attention of the Beast.

The rat didn’t break eye contact with the Beast, but he did jump slightly at the sound of Hunter’s voice, barely opening his mouth enough to whisper, “Don’t worry, Caleb, me and Luz have a plan. Just follow my lead!”

“Follow your—!” Hunter began but was interrupted when the rat raised his voice to address the Owl Beast again.

“Yeah, I can tell you want it. It’s shiny and sparkly and twinkly. But if you want the sparkly, you’ll have to catch me first!” The furball twirled the pen so that it twinkled once more, then without another word, he turned and bolted for the door, calling over his shoulder. “Run, Jerkface!”

Ok, short-sighted and reckless it was. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he ever thought it would be otherwise. Hunter shook his head and darted after the gremlin, scanning the empty kitchen, the hallways, the splintered end-tables, and ransacked closets for any place big enough to hide a waste of fur. “How many times am I going to have to save your—!”

The little vermin threw his weight against him before he could finish, surprising Hunter enough to knock both of them into a busted crystal ball stand as the Owl Beast came barreling down the hall behind them. She tried to stop, to catch them, but again her massive size proved her downfall as momentum kept pushing her forward.

Right into the end of the hallway where the human waited atop a ladder, putting the finishing touches on a giant red symbol she’d drawn on the wall. “Sorry about this, Eda!” She shouted. “But it’s for your own good! King, Caleb, close your eyes!”

Hunter heeded her warning—and not a second later was glad he did, because the light that suddenly flooded the hallway was bright enough that he could see it even from behind his eyelids.

When it faded, he cautiously opened his eyes, only to stare at the sight of the Owl Beast still on the floor between them. “You—you did it. You immobilized the beast!”

“Hey!” The furball barked. “I helped! I was the distraction!”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, fighting to keep his mouth from curling in disgust. “Yeah, you’re distracting alright…along with several other adjectives I could list. Now will you get off me already? Before I do something both of us will regret.”

The vexing creature tilted his snout up. “Is that supposed to be a threat, tough guy?”

“Move, rat!”

The human gave a wide smile, though the corners of her mouth trembled, and her brow glistened with sweat. “C’mon guys. Stah…stop fighting. It was a…team effort.” She swayed slightly, her wounded leg buckling under the stress of her weight. Hunter leapt forward (gladly putting more space between himself and the idiot featherbrain) and pulled her down from the ladder, lowering her gently to the ground.

“Easy, human. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you not to go around trying to save the world when you’re injured.”

“Nah,” she panted. “They just taught me to…to stand up for…what I believe in. And I believe in helping my—my friends, so…” She grinned up at him suddenly, her voice taking on a more teasing lilt. “By the way, Caleb…you’re touchiiiing meee.”

Hunter frowned, but quickly stepped a safe distance away. “Extenuating circumstances. Don’t get used to it.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” She glanced at the Owl Beast still unconscious on the floor. “So…what do we do about Eda?”

Hunter studied the Beast. “We still have to get the elixirs in her somehow.”

“How do we do that?” The rat squeaked as he waddled up to the human’s other side. “I mean, she’s out cold. Isn’t she?”

“We have to force-feed her the roast.” The human winced. “It’ll be nasty and kinda harsh, but I don’t see any other way.”

The furball gagged and spluttered, whining childishly. “We have to what? Oh, ew! That’s gross!”

Hunter decided to let the spectacle pass without comment. The rat wasn’t completely incorrect in his assessment, regardless of how juvenile his actions were.

The human giggled and reached out a hand to pet him. “Don’t worry, King, I can handle that part. I’ve helped Mamí feed lots of unwilling or lethargic animals before.” She shifted her attention back to Hunter, a playful gleam in her eyes. “And I can even do it sitting down, so you don’t have to ‘not-worry’ about my leg, Mr. Tough Guy.”

“I’ll go get the roast then,” Hunter retorted evenly, not bothering to dignify that last comment.

The human laughed as if she’d managed to ‘get one over on him’ nonetheless and the gremlin muttered loudly about him ‘not being as tough as he looks’.

Hunter shook his head as he went back to the living room.

Civilians. They were insane.

Every single one of them.

One bloody flying pig roast later, the Owl Lady was looking a great deal more witch-shaped than before. Eh, for the most part.

“Uh, guys?” The rat lifted one of the giant grey wings off her back. “I don’t think she’s still supposed to have these.”

“Are those talons?” The human marveled as she stared at the thin, black claws stretching out in place of the wild witch’s normal nails. “Cool!”

“It’s not ‘cool’, it’s dangerous.” Hunter retorted. “We need to turn her back to normal.”

The human actually had the nerve to pout at him. “But she looks so awesome like this! Like some kind of harpy lady! Besides, she’s still mostly Eda-shaped now, and Eda’s not dangerous.”

Hunter didn’t roll his eyes. Even though he really wanted to. “Putting aside exactly how ‘dangerous’ the Owl Lady may or may not be in general, you’re making the assumption that the state of her mind will mirror the state of her body—which could still be hazardous even if it was true.”

“Huh?”

“We have no way of knowing that the Owl Lady will be the one in control if she wakes up in this partial state. At the very least, her thoughts and actions may be heavily influenced by the Beast, which could still be dangerous for us, and at worst, the Beast may still be the one in control, regardless of how ‘normal’ her body appears at the moment. I’m not willing to take that risk again. Are you?”

The human frowned. “No, way! Definitely not! But what else can we do? These were all the potions King and I were able to find.”

Hunter folded his arms, drumming his claws against the crook of his elbow. He glanced at the furball out of the corner of his eye. “…I’m sure if you looked, you could find more.”

The gremlin shuffled his paws lightly, a worried slant to his eyes as he stared at the mutated form of his…landlord? Roommate? Owner? Two months, and Hunter still wasn’t entirely sure what the context of their relationship was supposed to be. “I don’t know if I can,” he admitted softly. “I already checked all the hiding places I knew. And Eda’s been talking about heading to the Night Market for more ‘drinks’ soon. I thought she just meant some rare, super-illegal batch of hard appleblood, but…” he looked up at Hunter with wide, helpless eyes. “What if she meant this potion? What if there are no more bottles left? What if she’s stuck like this forever?!”

“Whoa, King.” The human scooped the gremlin into a hug attack. “It’s ok, buddy. Cálmate. Remember what we talked about? We’re not going to leave Eda like this forever. If there are no more potions, well, then we’re just going to have to go to this Night Market and get some more!”

“You can’t just ‘go to the Night Market’, human.” Hunter sighed. “It’s an extremely illegal venue that can only be found after nightfall. Its location constantly changes and the only ones who ever know how to find it are people who have been there before. And despite my best efforts, I have yet to be included in that elite group.”

“Oh.” The human’s expression fell. “Well, what about you, King? Has Eda ever taken you before?”

“Not yet,” the rat sighed. “She says I’m ‘too small to have a good trade-in value yet’.”

Hunter snorted.

“So, what do we do? If we can’t find anymore elixirs and we can’t go buy some more, how do we save Eda?”

The two of them fell silent as they pondered the question. Hunter bit the inside of his cheek carefully. “…I’m still not convinced there isn’t an extra bottle or two lying around here somewhere. I can…help you look, if you want? The human can stay here and watch—”

Speak of the Titan. The Owl Lady gave a low groan, her talon flexing against the floorboards and the wings underneath her back shuddering.

“She’s waking up!” The rat screeched.

Shit. And he’d been so close too. With a deep grimace, Hunter pulled out a familiar vial of amber-colored liquid. “Here, just give her this! Before we all end up as meat skewers or something.”

The human took it from him, her forehead crinkling. “You had one all this ti—?”

“Questions later, cure now!”

“Right!” The human nodded, tilting the vial carefully into the Owl (Harpy?) Lady’s partially open mouth. “Bottom’s up, Eda! Oh, please let this turn you back to normal!”

Fortunately, this time, the elixir prevailed. Her talons retracted back into nails and her wings shriveled until they poofed away into nothingness. The last few smears of ebony black in her eyes and necklace melted away, replaced by normal pale yellow. The Owl Lady was finally back.

“Sooo…” the rat hummed as he stared at her. “What do we do now?”

Hunter leaned against the wall of the Owl Lady’s room, watching the furball pace restlessly as they waited for the owner to awaken. Apparently, the energy needed to finish transforming back into her true form had been enough that she’d slipped back into unconsciousness again after finishing the potion. It was annoying, especially since both the gremlin and human had insisted on staying with her until she woke up, which meant that Hunter had to remain as well—just to make sure the elixir succeeded in turning her all the way back.

After all, it sure would suck to know he’d willing surrendered the Emperor’s chance at a cure, only to find out that the Beast wasn’t as suppressed as they thought.

Yes, he was still bitter. This was the closest he’d ever come to actually succeeding in his mission and he failed at the end because what? A furball and a tourist couldn’t find enough potions to turn their ‘mentor’ back on their own? Pathetic.

Although, part of it may have been his fault. He did send civilians to do a soldier’s job, after all. Ugh, he should’ve just let the Beast eat them both when he had the chance.

Hunter scowled deeper as the Owl Lady twitched and spasmed, opening her eyes with a sudden yell.

“Ah! Where am I? And why does my mouth taste like roadkill?” She leaned over her…bed…nest…thing and gagged, spitting out a giant pellet that cracked to reveal a shockingly alive snaggleback.

“Eda!” The gremlin cheered, running over to her. “You’re back!”

“King? What happened? Did you take my elixir?!”

“Uh…hey, check out what Luz can do now!” He pointed to the corner of the room where the human was busy drawing numerous glyphs on tiny scraps of paper, surrounded by multiple floating balls of light.

“She…figured out the light spell?” The Owl Lady blinked, her mouth going slack. “How did she figure out the light spell?”

“She found a shape in the video she took of you. Jerkface called it a ‘glyph’.”

“A glyph?” She raised an eyebrow, turning in Hunter’s direction. Hunter met her gaze evenly.

“It’s how witches used to do magic; read a history book.”

She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “You are…the nerdiest nerd, I swear.”

“And you’re proof that a functioning brain really isn’t necessary for life.”

“Take that back!” The rat demanded, only for the Owl Lady to sigh.

“No, it’s ok. He gets a pass this once. Hey, Luz, come over here a second? There’s something I need to talk to you guys about.”

“Eda? You’re ok! What’s wrong?”

The Owl Lady sighed, swirling the last few drops of elixir around the vial like it was an expensive brand grapetear. “What’s wrong is I haven’t exactly been honest with you kids.”

Hunter snorted. “Oh, really? We hadn’t noticed.”

“Shh, Caleb! Go on, Eda,” the human encouraged.

“The truth is…I’m cursed. I have been ever since I was little. I don’t know how it happened or who did it, but it’s something I’ve been dealing with for most of my life. I’m usually safe…as long as no one messes with my elixir.” She glared at the furball, who laughed awkwardly.

“I, uh. I’m really sorry about that, Eda. I didn’t know the potions were to keep you safe! I never would have touched them if I knew.”

“He was just trying to help me,” the human defended. “And he helped us find a bunch more to get you back to normal! Tell her, Caleb!”

All eyes turned to him. Hunter sighed. “He wasn’t completely useless. This time.”

“Hey!”

“Wow,” The Owl Lady grinned. “A standing ovation.” She looked down at the furball who stared up nervously at her. “Well, I guess it’s not all your fault. I should’ve told you guys what was going on way before now. Listen,” she sighed, her good humor vanishing as she looked between Hunter and the human. “You two didn’t sign up for this. If you kids want to cut your losses—well, I can’t say I blame you.”

“Are you kidding?” The human gasped. “I’m not going anywhere! You and King are my friends and the Owl House is like my home on the Boiling Isles now. We stick together! Besides,” she smiled, bright and teasing. “You still have more to teach me, Eda the Owl Lady.”

The Owl Lady laughed, reaching out a hand to ruffle the human’s hair. “Yeah, I guess I do, huh, Luz?” She glanced at Hunter.

He met her eyes blankly for a moment. “Owl Lady. I sought you out, knowing full well that you’re a criminal and a,” he scoffed, “wild witch. I saw the wanted posters, I read the scout reports and the news bulletins, I heard certain individuals complain loudly and often about your actions. Did you really think I walked into this arrangement without knowing exactly what I was getting myself into?”

The Owl Lady stared at him for a moment, before chuckling. “You would research some random witch at the marketplace before approaching them for a job. You absolute nerd.” She shook her head. “You two are crazy. But luckily for you, I like crazy.”

“Good! Cause I’m the craziest there’s ever been!” The human cheered.

“Uh, excuse you. I’m the craziest there’s ever been. You’re crazy’s apprentice, remember?”

The human made a gesture with one of her fingers and thumb. “For now. But just you wait, Eda. You won’t remain on top forever.”

“That a challenge?” The Owl Lady smirked.

“Nah, it’s a prophecy!”

“Uh, heellloo? Is anyone there? Why am I on the floor? Hoot, hoot.”

“Ohmigosh, hooty! I can’t believe we forgot about him!”

“I can,” the gremlin groused. “He’s super annoying.”

The human nudged the furball in the shoulder. “We’ll take care of him,” she told the Owl Lady. “You rest. C’mon, Caleb.”

“Pass.” Hunter said flatly.

“Caleb, Eda needs rest.”

“No, it’s ok, Luz. You and King go take care of Hooty. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to Blondie about anyway.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. The human shrugged and led the furball from the room. “If you say so. We’ll be downstairs if anyone needs us. C’mon, King.”

“Eda? King? Luz? Caleb? I’m still on the floor! Anyone?”

“Ugh, can a voice be more annoying?” The furball groaned as he slipped around to the human’s side, helping her move to the door.

The Owl Lady waited until they both left before turning to Hunter, her face growing serious. “Look, I have a lot of questions about what happened today. And we’re gonna get to that. But I also seem to remember Luz pestering me for a very different spell before I passed out.”

“A different spell?”

“The truth spell.”

Hunter couldn’t help the quick inhalation he gave. “You know the truth spell?”

“Yep. I don’t like to use it, though. It’s complicated and messy and, as far as I’m concerned, an invasion of privacy. I doubt Luz really understands any of that, yet, though. She just knows she was worried about you.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, pushing off from the wall to stand more firmly in the center of the room. “About?”

“About the fact that you ran through the rain to save her, but apparently came out without a singe. Which sounds like a fascinating story to me. Care to share with the class?”

Hunter groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Not particularly, but since I doubt you’re going to leave me much choice…to start with, you were right.”

“Oh?”

“I should have just stayed at home today.”

Chapter Text

“Emboldened by the dishonor Hecate had shown, Azura lifted her staff to the cotton candy skies and shouted, ‘I challenge you to a witch’s duel!’ And look! I even drew this this flipbook art in the corner. Pew, pew, pew!” The human mimicked what Hunter could only assume were meant to be the blasts colliding spells as she quickly flipped the corner of one page back and forth.

Hunter pursed his lips, leaning away from the obnoxious drivel that had been abruptly shoved under his nose. “That’s not what a witch’s duel sounds like—or looks like, for that matter. Honestly, if you want to read about witches, there are plenty of educational texts on the subject. Any one of which would be a significant improvement over that fabricated nonsense.”

The human took the hint and shuffled out of his personal space, taking her affront to nature with her. “It’s just a story, Caleb, it doesn’t have to be realistic. What, they don’t have fiction books on the Boiling Isles?”

“Of course we do,” Hunter groused, fiddling with a weird, multicolored stack of plastic rings on the Owl Lady’s table of human oddities. What had she called them again? Spoinkies? Slonkies? “Ours are just better written. Seriously, who describes the skies as ‘cotton candy’ colored? Why is the diction so overstated? It trivializes its own narrative for the sake of appealing to wide-eyed, naive idealists who are searching for an easy method of escape and who won’t bother digging deeper or thinking critically about the media because they’re too focused on how the flowery, embellished language makes them feel, regardless of whether or not the information presented is, in any way, accurate or even conceivable.”

Slinkies. That was it. Hunter carefully separated five plastic rings from the group and stretched them out as far as they would go, before releasing them. They snapped back against their fellows with a satisfying hiss.

The human huffed. “It’s a made-up story. It doesn’t have to be accurate. Haven’t you ever heard of artistic license?”

“I wasn’t aware that special certification was required to write that badly.” Hunter deadpanned.

The human groaned and the rat, never one to let a conversation pass without attempting to insert his opinion, pulled himself up onto the table. “Let me see, Luz!”

She obligingly turned the book around and he studied the pictures critically for a moment, before turning up his snout at the frankly amateur artwork. “Hah, I can draw better than that. You know, they once called me the ‘King of Artists’.”

“More like ‘King of Vermin’ if you ask me.”

“What’d you call me, gap-tooth?!”

“Gah! I’m being attacked on all sides here!” the human wailed, though her eyes glimmered with poorly concealed laughter. “Eda, help! I need reinforcements! You like The Good Witch Azura, right?”

“Ugh,” the Owl Lady groaned in response. “No. In fact, you gotta stop reading that. Please.” She emphatically waved her feather duster in the human’s face. “Its flowery language is an insult to witches and driving away all our serious customers!”

“Uhhhh, what customers?” The human wondered, gesturing around them at the abandoned street. “There aren’t even any other stands around.”

“Gee,” Hunter drawled blandly, lifting the slinky from the table and passing its weight between his hands. The rings bounced back and forth with another whispered shhhnk. “I wonder why.”

The Owl Lady narrowed her eyes, her expression growing serious. “This is a bad omen. There must be something horrible happening today.”

“Depends on your point of view,” Hunter murmured, grabbing the spiral by one end and spinning the rings slightly, letting them fan out in a bright, fuzzy circle of color. A second later, he dropped the slinky on the table with a thud, shifting his weight slightly forward as his ears turned to the right, flicking to catch the sound of hasty footsteps and light panting. Someone—no, two someones—were approaching the booth, and quickly.

Three seconds passed before the Owl Lady turned to face the noise. Her pet and apprentice didn’t bother looking up until Hunter had already caught sight of them—a boy and a girl, civilians, and students of the nearby school by their dress. The boy was short and lithe, clearly the younger, and the girl—while more muscular—carried herself almost hesitantly, as if wary about drawing too much attention to herself. Or the wrong kind of attention.

Regardless, neither of them appeared to be significant threats. Hunter eased into a more relaxed stance, but didn’t pick up the slinky again. Instead, he eyed the witch children closely, curious about their relationship with the human.

“Luz, something amazing is happening today!”

They certainly seemed as though they knew her. Evidently, she had already begun integrating herself into the local community. This wasn’t entirely unexpected, given what Hunter had come to learn of her gregarious personality, but it was valuable to know exactly how far that integration had gone. Where and when had she found time to form an association with witchlings? And why didn’t they seem to care that she was in the company of a known and wanted criminal?

Just who were these children?

The human beamed, lifting her hand in greeting. “Gus, Willow, hey!”

First names were a start; surnames would be better. Unfortunately, fate was not on his side in this matter.

“It’s the annual Covention,” the female witch explained, lifting a poster advertising the event. “Student witches get to see all the types of Covens before they’re placed in one. There’s even a mystery guest this year.” She pointed to the relevant part of the poster.

“A job fair for witches!” The human cheered. “Eda, can we go?”

“Absolutely not,” the Owl Lady refuted. Typical. The human whined and sank to the floor. Her mentor remained unmoved.  “I never joined a Coven for a reason. Sure, it’s like a fun club for witches, but you’re also giving up your magical independence to be a part of a crooked system.” She slammed her fist emphatically on the table.

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Honestly, the rhetoric you spout is even worse than the garbage the human was reading.”

The Owl Lady turned towards him, a challenge in her eyes. “What was that, Blondie?”

“The organization you eschew as ‘crooked’ is designed primarily to help witches by enabling them to better regulate the abundance of magical energy produced by their bile sacs. Without the additional control afforded by the Coven system, the majority of witches would experience profound magical biofeedback and many would weaken and grow ill as a result. The sheer magnitude of unrestrained wild magic coursing through their bodies would be overwhelming at best and those who survive would eventually become corrupted and enslaved—or ‘cursed’—by the very magic they flaunt as being proof of their ‘freedom’.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sound familiar?”

The Owl Lady glared at him. “Low blow, Blondie. My,” she glanced at the newcomers. “situation has nothing to do with whether or not I’m in a Coven.”

Hunter sighed. “Your ignorance is almost physically painful.”

“Ok,” a young, male voice piped up, interrupting the scathing rebuttal Hunter saw building behind the Owl Lady’s eyes. “Who is this guy? ‘Cause everything you just said is, like, Advanced Magical Theory level stuff, my dude. Seriously, they don’t start teaching us the dirty details about how wild magic can alter your body and mind until Year 3 at least.”

The human seemed to take the change of topic as sufficient motivation to pop back up. “Oh, right, you guys haven’t met yet. Caleb, let me introduce you to Gus Porter,” she gestured at the boy, who waved enthusiastically. “And Willow Park,” the girl, meanwhile, offered a small, but bright smile as she fiddled with her glasses.

“Hi.”

Hunter nodded at both of them as the human continued, “guys, this is Caleb…uh, I never got your last name?”

“Because I’ve never given it to you,” Hunter retorted as he silently committed both of their surnames to memory. A quick electric tome search in the citizen registry should reveal any…noteworthy information regarding their respective families.

“Right,” the human laughed awkwardly, one hand rubbing at the back of her head as she turned back to her friends. “Sorry about him. He’s kind of, uh, private.”

“That’s ok,” Porter chirped excitedly, sticking out his hand. “Any friend of Luz’s is a friend of ours: no last names required!”

Hunter stared at the proffered limb blankly until Porter’s smile wavered and he slowly withdrew his hand. The human gave a beleaguered sigh. “He also has this thing about being touched.”

“It’s—”

“Dangerous,” the human nodded, finishing his sentence in the tone of a teenager who had heard the same warning many times over and yet still refused to believe. “I know, I know.”

“Why is it dangerous?” Park asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “You don’t look all that scary to me. You’re just a kid, like us.”

Hunter stared at her for a moment, taking in the subtle frown on her lips and the wrinkle of confusion between her brows. The tense set to her shoulders and the way she leaned forward, redistributing her weight very slightly to her toes, spoke of a stubbornness that hadn’t yet had the opportunity to fully come to light.

Just what he needed: another human.

“Have you ever heard the warning against judging a book by its cover?”

She nodded slowly.

“You would do well to heed it. People aren’t always what they seem to be. Or who they say they are, either.” He let his gaze roam over all three of the teenagers. “Be wise and be careful.”

Silence unfurled in the wake of his instruction. At least until the Owl Lady let out a sharp, mocking whistle. “Whoa, check out the little drama king over here,” she laughed, stepping up behind him. Before she could sling an arm over his shoulders or ruffle his hair, the way she might with the human, he quickly stepped back, turning to pin her with a very aggravated stare. She just flashed him her biggest shit-eating grin.

Well, fine. She wanted to play dirty? He could crawl through the mud with the best of them. “I can’t help but wonder, Owl Lady, if the reason you want to avoid the Covention has more to do with the principle of Coven magic, or the fact that you’ve never been to one without your dear big sister?”

She froze, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Wha—how do you know I have a sister?!”

“I did my research, remember?”

The human gasped. “You have a sister?! Tell me more! What’s her name? How much older is she than you? Why haven’t I met her yet? Do you think she would like me?”

“Luz. Knock it off,” the Owl Lady moaned, closing her eyes and rubbing her knuckles against the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want to talk about my sister. And I don’t want to go to the Covention. Can’t we just sell human junk to the suckers and call it a day?” She turned firmly back to the table, intent on nothing but peddling her wares.

“Um,” Porter spoke up hesitantly, raising his hand as though he were in a classroom. “But Ms. Eda, there’s no one here. Everyone’s already at the Covention.”

“Where we should be.” The human insisted. “Oh, please, Eda?”

“No!”

“Then you leave me no choice.” She gestured at the furball, who obligingly picked up the human’s book and began to read…dramatically. “You shall not shan’t do-eth no more harm, Azura calleth’d out…”

“So flowery, so awful,” the Owl Lady deadpanned as her gaze grew distant. She pulled out her very unauthorized portal-door (which Hunter still had not been able to confiscate, despite his best efforts) and stepped through the glowing gateway without so much as a glance backwards. The human only scooped the rat up and tossed him through the door as he continued to read. 

“…Hecate could only screech. Screech-eth did she, for the screeching did worsen-eth…”

Hunter turned to the human. “I will pay you twenty snails right now if you lock the door behind them.”

“I can’t, Eda has the key.”

Sure enough, not two seconds later, the Owl Lady waltzed back through, the furball perched on her head and continuing to read as if every word out of his mouth wasn’t an insult to fantasy, literature, and witch-kind in general.

“Stop it, stop it,” the Owl Lady moaned. “I will literally do anything to stop this!”

And that’s how Hunter wound up accompanying a wild witch, a human, a rat, and two teenagers to Bonesborough’s 87^th annual Covention.

And it was only slightly against his will.

Chapter Text

Hunter eyed the Bonesborough community center—temporarily refitted to host the Covention—with thinly-veiled boredom. He had nothing against the Covention, quite the opposite actually. The annual event was an informative and interactive way to teach young witches about the various differences between the nine main Covens, ensuring they had a firm grasp of the advantages and disadvantages of each. Witches around Porter and Park’s age only had another few years before they, like generations of witches before them, would be expected to choose a Coven and be given a sigil that would protect them from the dangers of wild magic. It was vital, therefore, for them to learn as much as they could about the various types of Covens to ensure that the ones they intended on joining were truly the best fit for them.

For Hunter, who was already a member of the most elite Coven in the Boiling Isles and who had himself researched and published most of the information that was likely going to be distributed in the pamphlets and leaflets being handed out by the volunteers, it was a great deal less important.

In truth, his time would be much better served doing almost anything else. But with the last of the elixirs having been used to turn the Owl Lady back to normal, the best opportunity Hunter would have to get his hands on another vial would be accompanying the Owl Lady to the Night Market during her next trip. And, unfortunately, that meant having to ingratiate himself to her—within reason of course. She’d never believe it if he completely abandoned their usual method of interacting. The trick was to utilize enough of his ‘bratty’ persona that she wouldn’t be suspicious, while at the same time currying favor with her.

It was a difficult line to walk. To be honest, he’d probably already overstepped a bit when he had brought up the elder Clawthorne. But in his defense, he didn’t appreciate anyone minimalizing the gravity of his warnings—especially not warnings that were designed to encourage civilian children to keep their distance from him.

Even so, it probably wouldn’t hurt to humble himself in the Owl Lady’s eyes. Just a little. So, when the Owl Lady began complaining about how she was essentially hunted down for the egregious sin of daring to retain her magical freedom, Hunter said nothing. When she began lecturing her apprentice on the apparent dangers of sigils, Hunter allowed her words to pass uncontested, even though the thoughtful frown on the human’s face as she stared at the newest initiate of the Illusion Coven grated against his nerves. When she again professed herself to be the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles, and worse, dared to credit wild magic as the reason for her false title, Hunter bit his tongue and didn’t utter a word in protest.

And then their little group arrived at the panel for the Emperor’s Coven.

Park and Porter were ecstatic, of course. Why wouldn’t they be? The Emperor’s Coven was home to the best and brightest in the Boiling Isles. A bit of hero worship was to be expected…though Porter’s query regarding if a coven member would sign his forehead was a little strange. Still, Hunter couldn’t help the slight smile that crossed his face as he listened to the two chatter about his coven, animatedly informing the human that only the most skilled witches were ever even granted the opportunity to try for a coveted spot within.

The Owl Lady scoffed. Loudly. “Of all the Covens out there, they’re the worst,” she sneered. “They’re more of a glorified propaganda machine than anything else. I’ll wait out here.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes and drew on all his practiced years of diplomacy to keep from firing off a retort of his own. His uncle’s handiwork didn’t need him to defend it, he knew. The empire they had created was powerful enough to stand on its own merit.

No matter how much his pride rankled at the insult to their lives’ work.

“I get it, Eda,” the human sighed. “Covens bad, individualism good. But I’m still trying to figure this world out, so I’m going to go in there and make up my own mind.” She pointed to the entryway behind her.

Hunter very carefully did not smirk at the Owl Lady. Even when she rolled her eyes at him. “I bet you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” She huffed petulantly. “Seeing Luz and those other two all ga-ga for Covens? You’re probably getting a real kick out of it.”

“You seem more contrary than usual,” Hunter observed neutrally, in leu of actually answering her challenge. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? No, of course not. What could be wrong? I’m only stuck in a place I don’t want to be, surrounded by people who would turn me in for a quick snail, all while being forced to watch as the brainwashed masses celebrate being placed into a prison of their own making. I’m having a great time.”

“Oh, of course. It must have been that scowl on your face that confused me. I didn’t realize it was your ‘happy’ death-glare.”

“You can be a real wise-guy sometimes, you know that?”

“Only sometimes? Guess I’ll have to try harder, then.”

That startled a laugh out of the wild witch, though she quickly tried to mold her lips back into an irritated expression. “Brat. Don’t think just because I laughed that I—”

“I’m telling you, it’s her!”

The stage whisper drew both of their attention. Hunter looked behind the Owl Lady to see a demon speaking with one of the coven scouts and holding a wanted poster. A very familiar wanted poster.

The Owl Lady looked at Hunter. Hunter stared at the Owl Lady. “You know what the safer option is here. Do you really need me to spell it out for you?”

The Owl Lady groaned. “You know what, I take it back. You’re a wise-guy all the time. Hey, Luz! Wait up, I’m coming.

Hunter shuffled in after the Owl Lady, not allowing himself to glance back at the concerned citizen or the scout on duty. After all, he wasn’t the Golden Guard right now. He was just Caleb and Caleb had no responsibility to assist various active scout patrols in the arrest of nefarious criminals. Today, he had a different role to play.

That knowledge, while accurate, did very little to diminish the sting of guilt in his chest as he slid into a seat near the Owl Lady and her apprentice. For the sake of distraction as much as habit, he scanned the room as the lights dimmed, noting the witchlings’ presence a few rows down. At least they would enjoy the show. And Hunter knew it would be a production indeed—the PR department spared little expense when it came to ensuring the Emperor’s Coven was well represented during Covention, even in a small town like Bonesborough.

Principal Hieronymus Bump, a man Hunter recognized only because of Snapdragon’s relentless complaints about his administration of Hexside School for Magic and Demonics, appeared in a swirling cocoon of green light.

“Ugh,” the Owl Lady groused, slumping in her seat. “Get ready, Luz, here comes the brainwashing.”

“Hello, Bonesborough! Students ask me all the time ‘Principal Bump? What’s the height of magical achievement?’”

A young witch stood up from the crowd. “Is it this?” He wondered, drawing a spell circle near his head. The magic enlarged his head to the point his neck could not bare the weight, causing it to fall to the side and nearly crushing the young demon sitting next to him. Hunter raised an eyebrow; maybe Snapdragon had a point after all. Just what were they teaching in the schools these days?

Still, Bump managed to redeem himself slightly when, instead of scolding the lad, he acknowledged, “wow. I’ve failed you as a principal.” Shaking his head slightly, he went on to add, “It’s being selected to join the best of the best. And there are none better than the jewel of the Coven system and the enforcers of his will: the Emperor’s Coven!”

A cheer went up from the crowd and again Hunter couldn’t help the small smirk that crossed his face, even as his gaze roamed across the three masked scouts on the stage. The scout uniforms were traditionally stark and imposing, meant to intimidate offenders while at the same time providing a sense of reassurance to those seeking protection and reassurance in the law. Despite the seemingly identical outfits; however, there were identifying attributes to be found if one knew where to look.

The clasp of the cloaks were usually a dead giveaway—at least for one versed in the scout hierarchy, as Hunter was. These three in particular wore triangular clasps in the vague shape of the Emperor’s Coven sigil: a sign they belonged to the Sun Panthers; the largest scout company within the coven and the group which were usually assigned to the day-to-day patrols of the various towns and cities of the Boiling Isles. In short, the company that came to mind whenever the common witch heard the term ‘scout’.

Unfortunately, Hunter was too far away to note the names engraved on the clasps, though it didn’t matter all that much as Bump continued his spiel. “Feast your eyes on this elite force: each member handpicked to help defend public safety and foster continued growth within the community of Bonesborough and beyond.”

The three scouts each drew a small spell circle, shooting a line of fire, water, and lightning respectively into the air. The lines converged in a carefully controlled explosion, sending a harmless blast of sparkles raining down on the audience. The human squealed, the crowd screamed their appreciation and amazement, and the Owl Lady just scoffed, leaning over to the large demon seated next to her and taunting quietly, “when does that elite force get here?” The demon only shot her a dirty look and slid further down the bench. Hunter’s smirk grew wider.

“Members of the Emperor’s Coven have access to all, yes, all forms of magic. Ooh! Aah!”

The crowd obligingly ‘oo’d’ and ‘ahh’d’ in response, though Hunter was sure this couldn’t possibly be new information. Even 5-year-olds knew that the Emperor’s Coven sigils were the only magic strong enough to block the influence of wild magic while still allowing a witch or bipedal demon the ability to use multiple branches of magic. It was just a shame that maintaining so many active sigils at once required so much energy from the Emperor. There was a reason the Emperor’s Coven was so selective when it came to how many witches a year could join, and in spite of what many laypeople—and even some of the Coven Heads—thought, it wasn’t just out of a sense of dignity or superiority. Maintaining such a constant flow of energy was taxing, even for the true strongest witch on the Boiling Isles.

“But only the best can ascend these ranks. Someday that could be one of you!” Bump pointed at a random girl in the audience—no, not random. Hunter was limited in the information he could divest from the back of her head, but still. There was something familiar about her pale skin and painfully false bright green hair. Something about the quality of her voice when she squealed in excitement whispered at the edge of his memory. He’d met her before.

Hunter was so distracted trying to figure out why a random witch from a backwoods town like Bonesborough would seem familiar to him that he almost missed Bump’s introduction for the mystery guest…almost.

It was Clawthorne.

The Owl Lady’s obnoxious laughter abruptly tapered off; the mockery in her eyes dimmed into pain.

The human let out a raucous cheer, impressed by the lightshow and magical prowess of the Coven Head. She turned to her mentor, eyes gleaming in excitement. “OK, you have to admit that was objectively kind of amaz—Eda? What's wrong? Why do you look like someone just burned down your human collectibles’ booth in front of you?” The Owl Lady didn't answer, and the human frowned, glancing confusedly between the two witches until realization seemed to sink in. “Ohmigosh? Is she her? The big sister you're avoiding?”

“I'm not avoiding anyone!” The Owl Lady snapped in the irritated cadence of someone who was absolutely avoiding someone else and did not appreciate being called out on that fact, thank you very much. “It's just...complicated. That's all.”

The human's brow furrowed. “Complicated how?” She gasped suddenly. “Do you have a mysterious past you never told me about?”

“No!” The Owl Lady growled, pulling down her cowl even further. She glared at the elder Clawthorne, an emotion Hunter couldn’t even begin to describe passing over her face.

The human shrugged and leaned back, catching Hunter’s eye. “Psst, Caleb. Do you have any idea what's going on with those two?”

“What makes you think I know anything?”

She shrugged again. “I dunno. You know a lotta stuff. You knew Eda had a sister and that's why she didn't want to come to the Covention. I figured maybe you knew something about this secret past she doesn't want to tell me about.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” The Owl Lady groused, shooting both of them a disgruntled look.

Hunter raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn't do anything. She’s the one sticking her nose in where it doesn't belong.”

The human frowned at him. “Wow, Caleb. Way to throw me under the bus, dude.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. It may not have been the most professional retort, but he couldn't afford to get on the Owl Lady's bad side just because the human was curious. “Just watch the show, human.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and turned back around to catch the end of Clawthorne’s speech, but Hunter knew better than to think she’d abandoned the topic entirely. She had that gleam in her eye—the one he had come to learn promised only trouble…for all parties involved.

When the panel ended, the Owl Lady was among the first to tramp outside, forcing Hunter and the human to shuffle along in her wake. “Well, that's enough Covention for one day. I'm gonna head home and wash all the Con-gunk off my skin.”

“But Eda,” the human pouted, waving a magazine in the air. “We haven't even taken the quiz to determine our Coven type yet.”

The Owl Lady only glowered and fired a stream of vaporizing light through the center of the magazine. The human yelped and pulled the book down to examine the hole, only to grin a second later. “Ooh, a punky potionist!”

She was so distracted by the magazine, she failed to take notice of her surroundings and ended up walking straight into the witch with the fake green hair—the one whose name continued to elude Hunter.

Until the human ever so kindly dropped it into his lap.

“Amity, hi! Nice to see you again.”

The witch didn't seem to reciprocate the human’s goodwill and began ranting about abominations and getting in trouble with Bump and other things that Hunter didn’t bother paying attention to, because he suddenly remembered why he recognized this particular witch out of the hundreds in the audience.

She was a Blight. More specifically, she was the youngest daughter of Odelia and Alador Blight, two newly ennobled witches who had earned their titles not through honorable deeds or sacrifice, but through the innovative technology Alador frequently supplied to the more specialized scout companies within the Emperor’s Coven.

Well, that and a significant amount of...‘political finagling’ curtesy of Odelia. Hunter had allowed her machinations to pass uncontested, for the most part, as they didn't pose a threat to the inner workings of the court. Besides, most noble witches and demons were old blood, and thus somewhat removed from the current pulse of common society. Having the Blights join the upper-class had meant Hunter had access to a more reliable bridge between the two social circles.

It also meant that 'Prince Hunter', the Emperor’s nephew and Heir Assumptive to the throne, had become very familiar with Amity Blight and what she was capable of. Which was why, when the human loudly announced her intention to challenge Blight to a witch’s duel, Hunter quickly stepped in between the two feuding girls. “Ok, I think you both need to calm down.”

“Both? You saw what she did to King!” The human protested, gesturing to the morose rat kneeling on the Covention floor.

 Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Human, a squashed cupcake is not a sufficient reason to challenge someone to a witch’s duel. Especially when you can't do any magic yourself.”

“I can so! I can do the light glyph! You were there when I figured it out, remember? You saw me!”

“The light glyph is wild magic,” Hunter hissed. “And should not be used lightly—or at all, preferably.”

“You didn’t seem to mind me using it last time!”

“Oh, trust me, I very much did! But those were extenuating circumstances, human! It was literally the only way to sa—” he cut himself off, glancing at the Owl Lady. The criminal narrowed her eyes and Hunter quickly rebounded. “The only way to get out of a bad situation. That is clearly not the case here.”

“Actually, it is,” Blight cut in smoothly, her mouth curling into a pale mimicry of her mother’s calculating smirk. “Considering ‘Luz the human’ over here almost cost me my position as top student in the Abominations track. I demand satisfaction for the insult against my honor!”

“Well, I demand satisfaction for the insult against the King of Demons!” The human retorted, gesturing to the furball whimpering behind her.

“Again, that idiot is not the ‘King of Demon’s’,” Hunter groaned. “That position doesn’t exist. And furthermore, you’re both being ridiculous.” He turned to face Blight. “Which, admittedly, is nothing new for the human—”

“Hey!”

“—But I would have thought a member of the illustrious Blight family would have more dignity than to bully a pathetic rat—”  

“Not a rat!”

“—or take advantage of an inexperienced stranger.”

Dark red crept up Blight’s neck and her hands curled into fists as she stepped towards Hunter, her eyes flashing. “Just who do you think you are, weirdo? What gives you the right to judge me?” She studied him from head to toe, her gaze like steely flint. “I don’t recognize you from any of the court functions or formal gatherings my parents have thrown. I’ve never seen you at Hexside and you’re not wearing any other school’s uniform. You’re a nobody!” She laughed coldly. “A loser too poor or weak or pathetic to even look my way! Titan, you probably go to a public school! You’re not worth my time!” She turned away from Hunter, tilting her nose in the air, every inch the aristocrat dismissing a foolish servant from her sight.

“Don’t talk about him like that!” The human glowered, stepping into Blight’s personal space. “Apologize to my friends, Amity! Right now!”

“I have a better idea,” Blight grinned. “You wanted to have a witch’s duel, Luz? Then let’s duel. But when I win, you have announce to the entire Covention that you’re not a witch and give up training to be one. Permanently.”

“I…” the human faltered, uncertainty creeping into her expression. For a moment, Hunter thought that perhaps common sense and reason would actually prevail.

“Do it Luz! For my honor! And lost offering!”

For a moment, he had forgotten exactly who he was dealing with.

“Fine, deal! But if I win, you have to buy King a whole box of cupcakes to make up for the one you squished. And you have to apologize to Caleb for all those terrible things you said!”

“Please leave me out of this,” Hunter sighed. “I really don’t care. Also, I’m warning you again: this is a horrible idea.”

Blight cocked a mocking eyebrow in his direction. “You know, you really should listen to that guard dog of yours. He may be a cowardly nobody, but at least he knows a lost cause when he sees one. Of course, that’s probably because he spends so much time with you and your…puppy-deer thing.”

“I’m not listening to anything but the sound of you apologizing when I beat you!” The human retorted, extending a hand toward Blight. “Shake on it!”

“I’ll do you one better.” Blight pressed her palm against the human’s and drew a spell circle around their interlocked hands. “The Everlasting Oath is sealed.”

The human bit her lower lip as she glanced down at the fading pink circle. “That’s…probably fine.”

“For me, sure,” Blight laughed. “For you? Not so much. I’ll meet you in the theater at one o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“Oh, believe me, I won’t be!” The human called as the witch sashayed away. Huffing under her breath, she turned back to the group, only to blink when she noticed the three pairs of eyes staring at her. “What? What’d I say?”

“Luz…” the Owl Lady said slowly. “Do you actually know what it means to make an Everlasting Oath?”

“Uh, not really. But I’m guessing it’s kind of like a magical version of pinky promise. Right?”

“Not unless this ‘pinky promise’ has the power to kill ya if you break it.”

The human’s mouth flopped open, and she leaned towards her mentor, her eyebrows climbing so high in her head, Hunter wondered if they would actually disappear into her hairline. “What?! What do you mean kill? Th-that’s just a figure of speech, right?”

The Owl Lady stared at her pupil. “Uh, no? It’s called the Everlasting Oath for a reason, kid—because any witch who makes that kind of promise has to keep their word. Or else they won’t be around to break any more promises, if you get my drift.”

The human whimpered, her shoulders creeping up to her ears as the lines of her body snapped taut. “That’s horrible! Why are people allowed to make that kind of promise? Why did you guys let me make that kind of promise?”

“Hey, I didn’t know Odious-Jr over there was going to pull something like that!” The Owl Lady defended as Hunter snorted at the nickname. “If I had, I would have ended this silly little argument before it ever got this far!”

“It’s not silly!” The human defended. “Amity hurt King’s feelings, and she was incredibly rude to Caleb! Someone has to let her know she can’t treat people like that!”

“Human, I get it. You have a strong sense of justice and want to protect those you care for. These are admirable traits. But not every insult is worth getting up in arms over. Schoolyard bullying and a few empty taunts, for example, are hardly worth you putting yourself in harm’s way.”

“Agree to disagree,” the human retorted fiercely. “I’m not sorry I stood up for either of you and I’d do it again in a heartbeat!” She swallowed tightly. “I just…I kinda wish I knew about the magic death vow before I made that deal.”

A beat of silence, broken only by the disgusting sounds of the rat shoveling the remains of the cupcake into his mouth, passed over the group. Then the Owl Lady grinned, wide and forced. “Well, the good news is, it was a deal and not a traditional oath. All you have to do is beat Greenie Weenie at her own game and you’re home free. And lucky for you, I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“You do? Like what? Tell me all of them!”

Hunter frowned as he eyed the Owl Lady. “Don’t get so excited, human. I don’t like where this is going.”

The Owl Lady waved him off. “Hush, Blondie, I know what I’m doing. Luz, you’re a witch’s apprentice and no one is going to take that away from you. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be able to wrangle up some magic traps that’ll make even a baby Blight shake in terror.”

Hunter clenched his jaw, fighting to swallow down the reprimand that burned on the tip of his tongue. Of course, the most notorious criminal in the Boiling Isles would not only advocate such unscrupulous behavior but be more than willing to assist in the execution of said behavior.

“Magic traps? But Eda, isn’t that kind of like…cheating?”

Hunter nodded firmly, though neither woman so much as glanced in his direction. He folded his arms tight across his chest, drumming his fingers against the crook of his arm and reminded himself that he couldn’t afford to alienate the Owl Lady right now. A vein twitched above his eye, and he tore his gaze away from the chaotic duo, scanning the throng of demons and witches bustling around them. He had to trust that the human was smart enough not to be swayed by such unprincipled drivel.

“Puh, no. Look, kid. You were just trying to stick up for your friends, right?”

Demons of every size and shape and color flitted from one stall to the next. Young witches chatted animatedly with booth workers and spokes-personnel.

“Yeah?”

“And then this Amity kid decided to up the stakes by not only demanding that you give up learning magic, which is a rotten thing for anyone to ask of anyone else no matter the circumstances, but she also had the gall to bind you to an Everlasting Oath while doing so. She started this fight, but I-I mean we, are going to end it. And if that means using some sick magical traps, then that’s exactly what we’re going to do! You know what they say: all’s fair in love, war, and witch’s duels!”

Park and Porter waited in a growing line to speak with one of the scouts from the panel and Blight trotted over to a taller witch, speaking to her in a tone low enough that even Hunter, with his sensitive hearing, struggled to decipher it over the relentless chatter of conversation echoing all around him.

“Do people really say that?”

“They do now! Mark my words, Luz, when we’re done that Emperor’s Coven wannabe won’t know what hit her!”

The witch nodded and gave an equally low response. Blight dipped her head in the respectful, dignified way that only a courtier or Coven Head would know how to do and turned away from the woman, summoning a small Abomination with one smooth twirl of her hand. She gave an order to attack, but Hunter’s gaze flickered toward her companion, who had turned away from the young witch and was now quickly approaching their group.

Of course, how could he have forgotten?

Amity Blight, besides being the youngest member of the Blight family and a rather irritating and somewhat arrogant person overall, was also the star pupil of Coven Head Clawthorne herself.

Well.

This Covention had suddenly gotten a lot more interesting.

Chapter Text

“Edalyn!” Clawthorne’s voice rang out, loud and commanding, as she stalked toward the group. The Owl Lady jolted at the sound of her given name, a grimace flitting over her face as she rose to meet her sister face to face. The sour expression vanished almost as soon as it appeared, hidden behind glimmering eyes and a toothy smile.

“Lily! I didn’t expect to see you here!”

Clawthorne blinked in surprise, frowning slightly. “Really? Whyever not? I would have assumed that my presence here would have been obvious, given that I was usually the one dragging you here when we were younger.”

“Well, yeah.” The Owl Lady snorted. “When we were kids, sure. But you’re in the Emperor’s Coven now.” She waggled her eyebrows mockingly. “Head Witch and all that jazz. I just figured you’d be too busy torturing the innocent to bother showing up for Covention.”

“Wha—how dare you! I don’t torture people Edalyn! By the Titan, where do you even come with these ideas?”

“I dunno…forcing random witches to give up 90% of their magic or else get a one-way ticket to the Conformatorium? Sure sounds like torture to me.”

Clawthorne stiffened, clenching her teeth and glaring at the Owl Lady. Her grip on her walking stick grew tighter. “You know the Emperor only arrests those who’ve used their magic to purposefully break the law or harm others,” she seethed.

“Sure. And I suppose it’s just a weird coinky-dink that most of those so-called ‘criminals’ happen to be wild witches and their alleged law-breaking has more to do with them trying to avoid being captured by your pet scouts than any actual misdemeanors or felonies.”

“I understand this will come as something of a shock to you, given your own sordid past,” Clawthorne snapped, “but most of those poor, innocent wild witches you hold in such high esteem actually are guilty of theft and magical assault…and worse. That’s why they’re arrested and that’s why they’re charged. Not because of some childish fairytale you’ve concocted to make anyone on the side of the law seem like arrogant, manipulative despots!”   

The Owl Lady scoffed as she leaned forward, gesturing coldly at the various Coven paraphernalia all around them. “I don’t have to bother ‘concocting’ anything when this entire event proves me right just by existing! For Titan’s sake, open your eyes, Lils. How many kids have passed by today and decided to seal away their magic just because of some pretty lightshow or convincing speech? Do you really think limiting their potential is the best thing for them? For us?”

“Yes. I do. Because I’ve seen the damage wild magic can cause—just as you have, my sister. I would never wish that on them.” Clawthorne stared at the Owl Lady, a flicker of sorrow and…something else passing over her face. Something Hunter couldn’t identify. But it softened the hard lines of her glare and dimmed the righteous anger in her eyes. Even her voice sounded unprecedently gentle when she whispered, “I would never wish that on you.”

The Owl Lady drew back, her forehead wrinkling and her mouth parting slightly in the face of Clawthorne’s naked sincerity. For once, the most insolent witch on the Boiling Isles seemed at a lost for words.

Her apprentice, on the other hand, was not. The human bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, waving a hand between the feuding witches. “Uh, hey. Sorry to interrupt, but I’m kind of in the middle of a crisis here, remember? Magical death vow and all that…” She forced a tight smile to her lips as she turned to face Clawthorne, though it did little to hide the furrow of her brow or the tautness of her muscles. “Sorry, I’m Luz. And you must be the sister I’ve heard so much about? It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Clawthorne blinked, glancing around as though suddenly realizing her sister was not alone. “…Hello, child. Edalyn, what’s this? Since when do you have a kid?”

The Owl Lady blushed, taking a frantic step back. “Whoa, whoa, slow down there, Lils. It’s not like that!”

“I’m Eda’s apprentice! For the next hour-and-a-half, at least.”

“Hey.” The Owl Lady frowned at the human. “You are not going to lose to some snot-nosed brat. I told you; I have a plan. In fact, we really should go ahead and get started on it. Bye, Lilly. Great to see you.” She looped an arm around the human’s shoulder, steering her away from Clawthorne, and tugged the rat to his feet. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“Lose to some sno—wait!” Clawthorne flung out her hand, as though to prevent them from leaving. “Are you the one who challenged Amity to a witch’s duel?”

The Owl Lady ignored her and would have kept moving, but her apprentice broke from her hold and turned back. “Yeah, I am. How did you know that?”

Though her words appeared to be in response to the human’s query, Clawthorne eyed her sister as she spoke, a small smirk stealing over her features.  “Amity is my apprentice.”

The Owl Lady’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“I most certainly am not.”

A fire ignited behind the Owl Lady’s eyes then and she marched back over to Clawthorne. “Well, then tell your ‘apprentice’ to release Luz from the Everlasting Oath!”

Clawthorne tilted her head, humming noncommittally as she considered the request. “I don’t think I will, no.”

“Lilly!”

“Edalyn, the Everlasting Oath cannot bind anyone against their will. You know this. Therefore, if the children chose to use the Oath to enforce whatever wager they made, that means your apprentice—” Clawthorne glanced at the human. “Luz, was it?”

The human nodded sadly.

“Luz must have been either confident or arrogant enough to assume she could take on my protégé and win. I won’t force Amity to bear the indignity of reneging on their deal just because she’s getting cold feet.”

The Owl Lady threw up her hands. “Ugh, seriously?! Do you people care about anything other than pomp and circumstance? She’s a kid, Lilith. A human kid at that. She didn’t know didly-squat about what the Oath would do when she agreed to it!”

“It’s true!” The human defended, staring at Clawthorne with wide, pleading eyes. “I thought it was just a pretty promise! I didn’t know it’ll kill me if I break it!”

Clawthorne hesitated, the severe lines of her face softening. After a few seconds, she inhaled sharply, visibly steeling herself once more. “Be that as it may, you still chose to make such a deal. Ignorance of the pledge aside, you must have, at some point, been agreeable to the stakes you and Amity proposed, or the Everlasting Oath could never have been enforced.”

The human’s face fell further, and she cast her gaze to the ground. “So, that’s it then. It’s over. Everything I’ve learned, my chances at being a witch—”

“Of course it’s not over,” the Owl Lady refuted, coming over to stand by the human. She ruffled her hair comfortingly. “Sheesh, kid. Since when do you give up so easily?”

“Eda, I’ve seen Amity use magic before—back at Hexside. She’s crazy powerful, and I only know one little light spell. How am I supposed to win with that?”

“With my, uh, expertise!” The Owl Lady grinned, glancing at Clawthorne from the corner of her eye. “I have a whole plan, remember?”

The human grimaced. “I know, but—”

“But nothing! Trust me on this, Luz! I’ve got your back, even if some people are too full of themselves to care.” The Owl Lady started to pull her away again, only to whip her head back at the last second, “By the way, I’m talking about you, oh high and mighty Coven Head.”

“Yes, Edalyn, I got that,” Clawthorne sighed. She studied her sister closely for a moment, her gaze lingering on the gentle grip the Owl Lady had on the human’s arm, the way she had her tucked almost protectively against her side. “It means a lot to you, doesn’t it? This witch’s duel?

“The duel itself?” The Owl Lady shrugged. “Nah, not really. But it’s important to Luz. That makes it important to me, y’know?”

“Eda…” the human cooed.

“Yeah, yeah,” the Owl Lady blustered, a faint red creeping up her neck. She looked back to Clawthorne. “So, are we finished here? Cause if we are I gotta get Luz ready to wipe the floor with your Blight brat.”

A gleam entered Clawthorne’s eyes then. It was subtle, the change from aggravated elder sister to astute Coven Head. If Hunter hadn’t watched Clawthorne from practically the day she joined the Emperor’s Coven, he might have missed it: the subtle quirk of her eyebrow, the way her nostrils flared just slightly, and the barely perceptible way her head tilted forward, giving the impression that she was somehow looking down upon her errant sister, though the distance in height between them wasn’t that great. “No, Edalyn, we aren’t ‘finished here’. Our business has only barely begun.”

The Owl Lady waved a distant hand, already in the process of turning around again. “Pfft, whatever. DM me on Penstagram.”

Clawthorne snapped her fingers and Hunter watched as dozens of the Owl Lady’s wanted posters vanished before his eyes in a flash of blue flame. The Owl Lady must have noticed too, because she turned around yet again, her mouth set in suspicious frown. “Public vandalism isn’t your style. What kinda racket are you tryin’ to pull, Lilly?”

“My motives are sincere. You believe that your apprentice—a misfit human who it seems is so ignorant of our world that she didn’t even know the power behind an Evelasting Oath—can best Amity Blight: a witch who under my guidance and tutelage has earned not only every accolade Hexside has to offer, but also caught the eye of many a prestigious witch in the court, including the young Prince himself? Then please, little sister, prove it.” Clawthorne grinned, sharp and dangerous. “For the rest of the afternoon, you won’t have to hide from the law. You will be free to focus your efforts completely on ‘training’ young Luz, without having to keep one eye on the scouts assigned to the Covention. Let us see, once and for all, which one of us truly is the better witch.”

“Please,” the Owl Lady scoffed, a confident smirk crossing her face. “We both know it’s me. You couldn’t beat me when we were kids, and you can’t train some puffed up noble kid to beat my kid now!”

“I thought you said she wasn’t your kid.”

“Th-that’s not the point!” The Owl Lady growled. “The point is my apprentice can kick your apprentice’s butt! Any day of the week and twice on Stunday!”

“You certainly haven’t changed. Still the same overconfident Edalyn. Alright then, if you’re so sure, how about we make a little wager of our own?”

“Fine! I win and you admit I’m the better witch. Once and for all.”

Clawthorne grinned, but there was a sharpness to the curve of her lips, a calculating curl at the edge of her smile. “I was thinking of something more…pertinent. Such as your misconstrued notion of freedom. Luz wins the duel with whatever wild magic you’ve taught her, and I’ll pay off the bounty on your head myself. You’ll no longer be a criminal in the eyes of the Empire.”

“Can she do that?” The rat squeaked.

The Owl Lady’s gaze darkened. “And what do you want, if by some miracle Blight manages to win?”

“If she wins, you come with me to the castle. Come speak with the Emperor. Let him break your curse, Edalyn. Let us show you what it means to truly be free.”

Hunter’s breath caught in his throat. What Clawthorne was proposing—it was a risky gamble. Even if the Owl Lady accepted her deal, there were still many ways this plan could fail. If she overestimated Blight’s skill, or if her delinquent sister managed to convince the human to cheat, to lay traps in wait for the unsuspecting witchling…stars, at this point Hunter wasn’t completely convinced the Owl Lady wouldn’t try something truly egregious, like sending her apprentice out to fight with her Palisman or casting spells for her from behind the bleachers. And if, by some stroke of luck or province, Blight lost, then not only would Clawthorne have forfeited an opportunity to capture one of the most persistent wild witches in the Empire, but she would have to defend her failure and the decisions that preceded it before the Emperor—hardly a desirable position after Kikimora’s recent ridicule of her progress.

For the second time that day, Hunter couldn’t help but scorn the limitations forced upon him by his civilian persona. ‘Caleb’ had no authority to interfere in Blight’s bet with the human. There was no power in his borrowed name that could’ve forced either girl to heed him. And now, as Clawthorne stood prepared to make a similar mistake in a moment of conviction and desperation, it was a bitter realization to find had no authority to restrain her either. If a teenager dismissed him as insignificant in her pursuit of honor, how much less favor would he find in the eyes of the Coven Head, who would not see her superior when she looked in his eyes, but a civilian. A ‘child’ civilian at that.  

“Deal.”

Clawthorne extended her hand slowly and the Owl Lady stepped forward to grasp it, not even batting an eye as her sister drew the customary circle around their intertwined fingers. “The Everlasting Oath is sealed,” she intoned with solemn gravity.

Hunter bit down on his tongue and just barely managed to smother the curse on his lips. He couldn’t fault Clawthorne her desperation, and he actually admired her creativity—though certainly not the recklessness with which she executed it. But damn it all if it didn’t make his job that much harder.

“Good luck, sister,” The Owl Lady grinned as she pulled away from Clawthorne. “You’re going to need it.”

Clawthorne matched her sister’s taunting smirk and very pointedly slid her eyes down to the human still hovering behind the Owl Lady. Then, with the same deliberate carefulness, she turned and glanced back at her own apprentice, who was currently directing her Abomination to slash through one of the training dummies created by the Construction Coven. The human audibly gulped as two shallow furrows appeared in the mannequin’s chest, traveling down the length of its torso.

“No,” Clawthorne hummed, the stateliness of her voice betrayed by the glimmer of triumph behind her eyes. “I don’t believe I will.”

“This is bad, this is bad, this is bad, this is bad,” the human whimpered, rocking back and forth against a poster-covered wall, her arms curled pitifully around her stomach. “If I fight, Amity’s probably gonna kill me all the way dead. But if I don’t fight, the Everlasting Oath will definitely kill me all the way dead. Guys, what do I do?”

“Make sure your Shrill is up to date?” The furball suggested, pointing at one of the fliers on the wall: an advertisement for the Estate & Probate Coven. “You do have a Shrill, right?”

The human shook her head, pulling her hood up over her ears. “I’m doomed!”

“No, you’re not. It’s easy! Just go on up to Penny Probate and tell her you want to leave everything to King, the King of Demons. Make sure she capitalizes my title, that’s very important—hey!”

The Owl Lady wrapped one end of the furball’s long scarf around his snout, tying a knot that was loose enough for him to undo, but tight enough that he would have to work at it for a few minutes. Hunter raised an eyebrow. “How much do I owe you?”

He was ignored as the Owl Lady knelt before the human, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You are not doomed, Luz. We are not gonna let those two stuck up snobs win that easy. We are not gonna let them win at all. C’mon,” she held out a hand, hauling the human to her feet. “It’s time to teach you the fine art of leveling the playing field.”

“I don’t know, Eda. I’m not sure I want to win by cheating.”

The Owl Lady gestured dismissively. “Don’t think of it as cheating; think of it as using magic in a different way! Isn’t that what your light glyph is all about?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.”

“So, then what’s the problem? You’ll kick Blight’s butt and get your apology, I’ll get the satisfaction of having beat my sister again—and, ya’know, not get imprisoned in the bargain—King’ll get his replacement cupcakes—”

“Wait, what?” The human whipped her head up so fast she almost slammed the top of her skull into the Owl Lady’s jaw. “When did Lilith say anything about you being imprisoned?”

The Owl Lady rolled her eyes playfully, chuckling. “Man, we have got to work on your ability to read between the lines, squirt. What did you think that whole ‘come with me to the castle’ and dragging me before the Emperor bit meant?”

“I don’t know! It sounded like she knew someone who could,” the human glanced around self-consciously, lowering her voice. “Who could break your curse. Isn’t that what she said?”

The Owl Lady scoffed. “Sure. Break my curse by branding me with one of their precious sigils and trapping me in a Coven for the rest of my life. No, thank you. It would be better if they locked me up in the Conformatorium or in a dungeon somewhere—at least I’d be able to break out of a cell.”

“But then…why’d you make that deal with Lilith in the first place? If you think she’s just going to force you to join a Coven against your will, why risk it?”

“I dunno. Why’d you risk having to give up learning to use magic?”

The human groaned. “I told you; I didn’t know about the Oath—”

“I mean before that. You agreed to Boot’s terms before she decided up the ante on you—which again was a pretty jerk move, but that’s not the point.” The Owl Lady stared at the human, her face deadly serious. “I know you, Luz. If you lost, you would try your darndest to keep your side of the bargain, even without the Oath forcing your hand. Why did you agree to sacrifice everything you’ve been working so hard for?”

“You know why,” the human muttered, her gaze flicking first toward the furball, who was still struggling and grunting around his improvised muzzle, then to Caleb.

The Owl Lady nodded. “Then you know why I made that deal with Lilly. I got faith in you, kid. Even if you don’t.” She grinned abruptly, her eyes bright and mischievous. “Besides, it’s been way too long since I’ve been able to show Lilly up in front of a crowd like this. People think she’s sooo great just because she made Head Witch. Puh! It’s time they remember which Clawthorne sister is really the most talented, don’t you think?”

That brought a smile to the human’s face. “Eda, are you using me as fodder in your sibling rivalry with Lillith?”

“I would never!” The Owl Lady gasped, putting a hand theatrically over her heart. “You’re an only child, right? I’m just showing you what it’s like to have a little…healthy competition in the family. Who knows, it might come in useful one day.” She winked at her apprentice, earning an abrupt laugh in return.

“I seriously doubt that. But thanks anyway, Eda. And thanks for believing in me. I promise; I won’t let you down.”

“Sooo…?”

 “So, I’m not going to be the reason you’re forced into a Coven if that’s not where you want to be.” The human sighed, her smile turning rueful and a bit of the amusement in her eyes fading into resignation. “I’ll go along with the traps…just this once. What did you have in mind?”

Hunter scowled as the Owl Lady and the human began constructing their various snares and hidden spell shafts. His skin crawled as he watched the Owl Lady set circle after circle down on the arena floor, with her apprentice and the furball dutifully covering them up behind her. He hoped the human was at least bothering to note the location of each spell, if only to keep herself from getting flambéed by an errant blast of fire or skewered by a wall of rising spikes. She didn’t deserve that, even if she was naïve enough to be manipulated into abandoning her own moral code so easily.

Not that Hunter was behaving much better at the moment.

A wave of disgust crested in his stomach as the Owl Lady laid the foundation for a minor flash freeze spell and he shifted his gaze away, turning his attention back to the ‘mission’ he’d been assigned by the wild witch: namely to keep an eye out for Blight or Clawthorne and inform her as to their arrival in the theater. The knowledge that he was not only allowing this farce of a duel to continue but aiding the wild witch in perpetrating her little scam, however obliquely, set heavy on his shoulders, like an invisible yoke of shame and disgrace that he couldn’t shake.

His integrity should not be for sell, not at any price.

And yet, here he was, keeping watch for the Owl Lady like the obedient guard dog Blight had accused him of being.

(She wasn’t wrong—not completely. But she had severely misconstrued the nature of his devotion and the motivation behind his compliance. She had no concept of where his loyalty truly lay.)

If he wanted to earn the trust of the Owl Lady, he had to—not abandon, never abandon—ignore the values that he typically held in such high esteem. Just for the duration of the duel. He could suppress his sense of justice for that long, at least. After all, the Owl Lady may be reckless and chaotic and hasty…not to mention brash, overconfident, and generally irresponsible…but she wasn’t fundamentally a cruel or evil person, in spite of her propensity towards wild magic. Slanted moral compass aside, Hunter had seen the types of spells she was setting and knew her motivations were true. She had no intention of inflicting harm on Blight or even her sister, despite their troubled relationship and opposing desires. This witch’s duel was nothing like the treacherous and often life-threatening duels between the nobility back at court. It was truly what it appeared to be: a benign spar between civilians designed to settle a childish disagreement.

A benign spar in which one party was actively cheating and the other was foolishly risking her reputation within the Emperor’s Coven in a desperate attempt to finally capture the most notorious wild witch on the Boiling Isles (and, subsequently, save the sister she loved). And Hunter couldn’t do or say a thing to contain this impending airship-wreck without either overstepping the bounds afforded to him by his civilian persona or losing what little favor he’d managed to find with the Owl Lady.

He sighed, long and deep through his nose, and reached up to rub at his temple, trying to soothe the headache that had been building since he’d recognized the youngest Blight back in the lobby. As he was attempting to ease at least the physical manifestation of his distress, the hasty clatter of footsteps reached his ears. Hunter looked up in time to see Porter and Park racing toward the theater, the former waving eagerly while the latter wore a grin that threatened to split her entire face in half. Hunter bit back a groan and resigned himself to whatever additional fiasco they no doubt intended to drop at his feet.

He highly doubted the human would choose allies who were in any way less chaotic than her.

“Caleb!” Porter cheered, pointing at his forehead, which now bore the messy scrawl of a name Hunter only dimly recognized from the quarterly reports. Huh. It would seem the young witch had been successful in his admittedly bizarre quest to get a scout to sign his forehead—though as to what purpose, Hunter had neither the time nor inclination to uncover. He merely nodded in acknowledgement, silently hoping that they would pass him by to join the three charlatans already inside the theater.

It was a vain hope from the start.

“Caleb,” Park panted as she skidded to a stop only a foot or so away from him. “What’s going on? Luz didn’t really challenge Amity to a witch’s duel…did she?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Because the whole Covention is talking about it!” Porter exclaimed, the words exploding forth in a sudden burst of air. “They’re saying that if Luz wins, Amity has to actually apologize to you guys! I don’t think I’ve ever heard Amity apologize for anything!”

“But that’s only if she wins,” Park reminded him. She turned to Hunter, a worried frown crossing her face. “People are also saying Luz has to stop studying magic if she loses. And that she made an Everlasting Oath on it. But that’s not true, right? Please say that’s not true!”

“It is,” Hunter answered cautiously, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“Caleb!” Park huffed, her brow wrinkling as she threw up her hands in a dramatic gesture he normally would have associated with the human. “Yes, that’s a problem! Amity is like the best Abominations student at Hexside! And Luz only just started learning magic! There’s no way she can win!”

Hunter couldn’t help the sharp, bitter laugh that escaped his mouth. “Finally, one of you with some sense. I tried to tell her that, but if you know her as well as you think you do, you should know how difficult it is to convince her not to act when she believes she’s found some goal or cause to fight for. It didn’t help that the Owl Lady and her little furball were right there egging her on.” He shook his head, doing his best to convey a vague sense of disapproval without revealing the guilt that lurked underneath. Nothing he had said was false strictly speaking, but in truth, he had hardly fought as hard as he could to prevent the duel from occurring.

“So, that’s it?” Porter questioned, his expression falling. “She’s done for?”

“Not if the fu—er, freaking Owl Lady has her way,” Hunter muttered, ignoring the way his eye twitched irritably under the throbbing pulse of his headache. Stars, he couldn’t even wholly condemn her deception, could he? Regardless of how it aligned with his own sense of right and wrong, it was still the human’s best chance at surviving the duel.

That shouldn’t make a difference. Cheating was cheating, regardless of motivation or outcome. And besides, if the human won, that meant Clawthorne would have squandered another opportunity to catch the Owl Lady, which would hardly reflect well on their Coven.

Then again, if Blight won and Clawthorne did succeed in capturing her errant sister, ‘Caleb’ would be forced to end his tenure at the Owl House prematurely, with no chance of getting his hands on the closest approximation to a cure he had found since his uncle had discovered the temporarily restorative benefits of Palistrom energy. He groaned loudly. See, this was what came from fraternizing with the enemy, damn it all.

“Uh, Caleb? You ok man?” Porter extended his hand towards him, only to stop abruptly halfway. The part of Hunter that didn’t currently feel like someone was battering his skull with a sledgehammer was grateful that there was at least one civilian capable of remembering his injunction not to touch him.

“I’m fine.” He bit out tightly. Park and Porter exchanged what had to be the most overtly disbelieving glance he had ever seen. He sighed, trying to force his voice into a more reassuring cadence. “Look, it’s nothing. Really. The Owl Lady just…came up with a plan to assist the human in her duel and it’s a little irritating for me. That’s all.”

“But isn’t that a good thing?” Park wondered.

“…So, it would seem,” Hunter grunted, not quite able to keep the slight sneer from his tone. Fortunately, neither witch seemed offended, though they did share a look between them once again. Hunter fought to keep his expression neutral, reminding himself that as far as Park and Porter knew, he was just some random kid they had met earlier today and were trying to figure out. ‘Caleb’ was nothing more than a mask, an empty shell. It would reveal only what he wanted them to see.

But damn, if he didn’t suddenly wish he were back at the castle, safe behind the power and authority of the Golden Guard or the prestige and honor of the Heir Assumptive. Either way, he would be far away from the Owl Lady and her ridiculous schemes.

And far away from the pain of feeling torn between two outcomes, away from the shame of knowing his honor could be traded away like common goods.

“Well…” Park said slowly, “if Eda has a plan, then Luz is probably in good hands. She is one of the most powerful witches on the Boiling Isles, after all.”

“Next to the Emperor,” Porter added. “And the Golden Guard and Head Witch Clawthorne. She’s the fourth most powerful.”

The corner of Hunter’s mouth twitched in spite of himself. He had spent too long being subjected to the Owl Lady’s all too frequent boasts of her own skill. It was good to be reminded that not everyone shared her inflated opinion.

And ok, maybe a small, selfish part of him preened at being named the second most powerful witch by Porter’s reckoning. It was a balm his wounded dignity desperately needed right now.

“Right,” Park agreed, turning back to him. “My point is, whatever they’re planning, it’s probably gonna help Luz in the long run. And even if it doesn’t,” she added when he frowned, “I don’t think standing out here is going to do much good anyway. Gus and I were gonna ask Luz if she wanted to go get some ice scream, but since she’s probably busy training, do you want to come?”

Hunter stared at the two civilians. Strictly speaking, the Owl Lady had charged him to keep watch for Clawthorne and Blight. Leaving his post would be dereliction of duty, and while he certainly did not owe the Owl Lady, of all people, the same fealty he had sworn to the Empire, his desire to curry favor with her meant that he was understandably reluctant to leave his post.

Even if the idea of putting this absolute clusterfuck behind him for a few minutes was undeniably appealing.

“C’mon! We checked out the Frozen Delights Coven on the way over here. They’ve brought out a lot of designer flavors just for Covention and I wanna try them all!” Porter wheedled. “Plus, no offense dude, but you look like you could use a cone or two. How about it?” He grinned and Hunter was struck by the sincerity in his expression; an innocence shared by Park as well. Unlike the many noble-born teenagers back at court, there was no glimmer of guile in their eyes, no hint of cunning lurking behind their open smiles. Their words seemed honest; their motives true.

He glanced behind him where the Owl Lady was laying the basis for a wind spiral. The rat, idiot that he was, tripped over the end of his scarf, stumbling over the circle and activating it. The human shouted and danced around, trying to pull him out as he was borne higher and higher on the cylindrical winds.

Hunter shifted his gaze back to the myriad of bodies shuffling through the lobby. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Clawthorne or Blight since the two sisters parted ways. If they were out there, it was more realistic to assume they were engrossed in their own training, as the human should have been, rather than lurking around the theater looking for an opportunity to upstage their competitors. That kind of shameful, duplicitous behavior was more representative of the younger Clawthorne than the elder.

He thought back to the Owl Lady’s request that he stand watch. Technically, she had only asked that he ‘keep an eye out for my pesky sister and her little shadow’ and inform her when he noticed their approach. She had never stipulated that he must remain at the theater’s entryway to do so.

He glanced back at Park and Porter, who were still waiting patiently for him to announce his decision.

(Neither the Owl Lady, the human, or the rat had so much as looked in his direction since they began putting their little plan into motion. Hunter knew the booth Porter had mentioned; he had seen it on the way in. It was no more than a brisk 5-minute walk from there to the theater—less at a jog. Add on an extra 3 minutes to account for the average length of a queue, and Hunter could be there and back in under 15 minutes. And those charlatans he was forced to put up with would be none the wiser.)

“Fine, I’ll accompany you,” Hunter agreed with a brief nod, ignoring the way Park’s smile grew and Porter pumped the air with his fist.

“Yes,” the shorter witch cheered, spinning on his heel and taking point. “Novelty ice scream, here we come!”

“You’re going to love this, Caleb,” Park promised. “The Frozen Delights Coven always brings out the best flavors for Covention.”

Hunter hummed noncommittedly. He very much doubted the ice scream would be as auspicious as the two civilians believed, but the opportunity to at least stretch his legs would be welcome, nonetheless.

And if it also meant he didn’t have to listen to that blasted wild witch and her apprentice casually disregard every tenet of honor and valor he’d ever been taught, if for a few moments he could pretend that his silence had not made him complicit in her machinations or that there wasn’t a significant part of him that hoped that the human would win, in spite of her foul play and what it would mean for his colleague…well. That was just, as one of his lieutenants liked to say, ‘the icing on the cake.'

Chapter Text

Hunter resisted the urge to tap his foot impatiently as Porter dithered in front of the counter, his eyes darting between several options, including Bubblegum Toil, Caramirage Carnage, and Sigil Sugar Swirl. Park stood patiently off to the side, licking her single scoop of Healemon Sorbet. Porter flashed a winsome smile at the bored demon manning the cash register. “You’re sure you can’t give me a discount here, buddy? Y’know, since it’s Covention and all?”

“No.”

“Ok, ok, I hear you but…” He brought his two hands up to his face, tapping his index fingers against his mouth. “How about some free samples, hmm?”

“No.”

Porter slammed an open palm against the top of the display case. “You drive a hard bargain. Ok! How about you give me a third of a scoop of each flavor and we call it even.”

“No.”

He let out a defeated groan, his body drooping theatrically as he pouted. “C’mon! Please?” Behind him, an older witch readjusted his hold on the bags in his hands, glaring at the back of Porter’s head.

“Hey, kid, hurry up and make a decision already. You’re not the only person in line, you know.”

“I’m trying! They’re just so many good options and I didn’t expect them to be this expensive!” The boy whined.

Hunter winced, the ache in his head objecting rather sharply to the shrill sound Porter had produced. Still, he managed to keep his voice civil when he spoke. “I thought you said you inspected this venue before coming to invite the human to partake of the wares?”

“Well, yeah! I scoped out the flavors, not the prices! I thought my dad gave me enough to get whatever, but I didn’t count on everything looking so good.”

“Just pick one and get out of the way,” the witch behind him groused.

“You probably should hurry, Gus,” Park advised with an apologetic grimace. “The line’s getting pretty long.”

Porter groaned again and dug around in his pocket for the appropriate amount of snails. Passing them over to the cashier, he sulked. “Fine. One scoop of Sigil Sugar Swirl, I guess.”

“Finally!” The man grumbled before turning to glare at Hunter. “You’re not going to take that long, are you?”

Hunter met his glare with a glower of his own. “No.” And true to his word, he didn’t. As Porter moved further down the counter to collect his order, Hunter reached into his own pocket, pulling out a larger handful of snails. “Two scoops—one Bubblegum Toil, one Caramirage Carnage.”

“Cup or cone?”

“Doesn’t matter—whatever’s quickest.”

The demon shrugged and accepted his payment and Hunter also stepped off to the side, declining the offer of any toppings. He was already three minutes behind schedule as it was. As their group walked away from the booth, much to the audible approval of the other patrons, he held out the cup to Porter, already scanning the crowd for any sign of Clawthorne or the Blight girl.

He still had a mission to complete, after all.

“Uh, Caleb, what’re you doing?”

“Sightseeing,” he replied blandly, not bothering to look back at either of his companions. His gaze moved swiftly over the bodies in the crowd, analyzing and dismissing individuals with all the effort it took to breathe. Finding no sign of his targets, he turned back in the direction of the theater, pausing only long enough to shove the cup further in Porter’s direction. “And now I’m done. Let’s move out.”

Park frowned, shifting enough that Hunter flicked his gaze in her direction. “We don’t have to go back yet. If you want to look around some more, that’s fine with us! How about we take a few minutes to finish our ice scream and then we can decide what to do?”

“Sounds good to me!” Porter cheered, licking at a melting droplet that was slowly inching its way down his cone. He pointed across the lobby to where a few covered tables had been set up by one of the Cooking Coven booths. “Look, there are some seats over there!”

Hunter grunted. He should return before the Owl Lady or her accomplices noticed his departure. He had an assignment to complete, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter. “You can obviously do whatever you want, but I need to get back to the theater. Here’s your ice scream,” he added pointedly when Porter made no move to relieve him of the cup. He wished the shorter witch would take it already; the cold was beginning to seep through the thin plastic wall in a way that set his teeth on edge.

Porter’s smile vanished and a look of genuine confusion crossed his face. Covens, the boy couldn’t be this slow, could he? “Whaddya mean my ice scream? You bought it, remember?”

Apparently, he could. Hunter refrained from rolling his eyes, but it was a near thing. “I bought it for you,” he grumbled, shifting his gaze back to the bustling crowds around them. Clawthorne and Blight could very well be passing him by while he was being forced to participate in this asinine conversation.

Yes, that was the only reason. Shut up.

“Caleb, that’s…you didn’t have to do that, man,” Porter rambled. “I mean I appreciate it and all, but you should’ve gotten the flavor you wanted. I’d’ve lived without trying all three flavors. Besides, it’s kinda my own fault for blowing so much of my allowance on Coven merch. He smiled sheepishly, an expression Hunter caught out of the corner of his eye, and waved his free hand, revealing two bags nearly overflowing with caps and mini-lamps and other trinkets. He waved again and they vanished in a puff of blue smoke. “But hey, there’s always next year, am I right? You go ahead and enjoy that before it melts.”

This time Hunter did roll his eyes. He hadn’t taken the witches up on their offer because he had any delusion he would enjoy the ‘treat’, but even forcing himself to consume the icy concoction was worth the opportunity to try and clear his head for a bit. Unfortunately, not only did putting physical distance between himself and the frauds back at the theater fail to magically resolve his internal conflict, but the increasing sense of time anxiety had only magnified his stress. Porter’s indecision had at least provided him an unexpected opportunity to avoid the frozen pain that was ice scream, but now the witch was insisting he partake of the dessert simply because he bought it?

Porter was clearly taking lessons from the human and the Owl Lady in how to vex him. He nodded slightly, retracting his arm and eying the frosty dish with all the enthusiasm of a veteran scout staring down a rampaging wyvern. His lip curled, but he scooped out a large portion of the Caramirage Carnage, nonetheless. The sooner he got this over with the better.

The first touch of ice scream against his teeth was agony. His jaw clenched as frozen sugar stabbed at his teeth and scraped against his tongue. The small particles of ice still present in the dish seemed to sharpen into spears and pierce the roof of his mouth, instead of melting like they ought. His skin shuddered as he fought to swallow the mouthful; fought to keep the grimace from his face as the descending bolus slashed the inside of his throat, rubbing the softer tissue raw as it slid down his esophagus.

The pain in his skull exploded. He dropped the cup in favor of bringing both hands up to his temples, up to the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to still the jagged beastwhip that was cutting through synapse and nerve and bone alike, leaving bits of shattered glass and broken nails in its wake. He was barely aware of the groan that escaped his lips and even less aware of the two bodies closing in on either side of him. Something shifted; he thought it might've been him, but it could have just as easily been the floor or the sky or the realm itself. Pain, icy and frozen, radiated through his mind and body with every breath he took, burning him in a way the sun and the rain and even the sea itself never could. He gasped, choking on air he couldn’t breathe, and spasmed brutally when another blow of leather and glass and nail slashed through his mind.

Nine Covens, he missed the fucking sledgehammer.

No sooner had that inane thought crossed his mind than a warm heat seeped into his skin. It crept over bone and tissue, seeking out the torn, damaged places and mending them in a blazing inferno. Frozen nerves thawed and stabbing pain melted away. The beastwhip burned under a lash of fire and even the sledgehammer was swallowed up by a tongue of flame. Hunter breathed, carefully at first, then deeper, the tension draining from his body as blistering air seemed to fill his lungs, replacing the artic winds that had sought to freeze him from the inside out. Gradually, the warmth also cooled and faded away, leaving him with nothing but the natural, ambient heat produced by multiple bodies drifting around a confined area and the soothing touch of the sun on his face.

…The sun?

He opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to find he was seated at one of the tables nearest a window, Park and Porter hovering over him with twinned expressions of concern dominating their faces.

A different kind of heat began to prick at the tips of his ears. “…Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”

“Forget your face,” Porter exclaimed waving a hand dramatically through the air. Hunter caught a glimpse of a small, round object nestled in the curl of his fingers. “You almost died, Caleb!”

Hunter scoffed. “I did not.”

“The how do you explain taking a bite of ice scream and almost immediately keeling over?!”

“Are you allergic?” Park questioned, her tone a little more stable—though not by much. “You could’ve told us if you were. There’s lots of different food to try here; we didn’t have to get ice scream if you’re allergic.”

“I’m not allergic,” Hunter sighed. “I just…it’s complicated, ok?”

“It’s not ok!” Porter shot back. “Dude, you were choking. You didn’t seem to hear anything we said, and you kept scratching at your head like you were trying to crack your own skull open! We thought we were going to have to go get the Healing Coven representatives or call an ambulance or something!”

His voice was tight, Hunter noticed, the words chasing each other out in a rush of air, as though if he didn’t get them out all at once, he wouldn’t get them out at all. Park was no better. She hadn’t looked away from him once, her eyes running endlessly down the length of his body, as though searching for some clue or sign that could explain what just happened. But there was a tautness to her motions that belied her nerves, and Hunter’s nose wrinkled slightly at the scent of blood, courtesy of the shallow droplet that had appeared on her bottom lip.

There was fear in both their eyes.

“I’m not allergic,” Hunter repeated firmly. The last thing he needed was two well-meaning but severely misinformed civilians badgering him to go the hospital. “I just have a headache…or had, I suppose. It seems to be gone now.”

Park raised a dubious eyebrow. “A headache caused you to almost collapse?”

“Was it brainfreeze?” Porter questioned. “It was brainfreeze, wasn’t it? That on top of a headache,” he shuddered. “I’ve done that before and it’s no joke.”

“That was a part of it,” Hunter nodded. “That and…” He hesitated. What he was about to admit to wasn’t…normal. In the same way not burning in the boiling rain or having to ignore the incessant chatter of Palismen wasn’t normal. It was dangerous to speak of, dangerous to illude to, and even if it wasn’t…

Even if it wasn’t, Hunter hated thinking about it. He hated remembering all the stupid, dumb little ways he was different. The ways he was other.

“And?” Park prompted, the worry in her tone as sharp as any blade. Hunter’s gaze fell to the pale smear of blood on her lip. He had caused that, however inadvertently. He had caused these two civilians, these two teenagers, undue stress and fear and was even now continuing to do so. Because apparently somewhere in between the Covention trip and the ice scream and all the stupid conversations, they decided they cared enough about him—about ‘Caleb’—to not want him to die.

…At this point, Hunter really just wished random civilians would stop caring about him. It was getting exhausting.

“I…may have a slight sensitivity to the cold,” he admitted in a low whisper, eyes darting around to make sure no one was overtly listening in on their conversation. Rationally, he knew there was no need. ‘Caleb’ was just a random teenager. Unlike his other personas, the boy had no enemies that would take advantage of his weakness to harm him or manipulate the Emperor. But a lifetime of habit—particularly one as long as his—didn’t vanish simply because of a temporary change in circumstances.

“If that was slight, I’m not sure I want to know what you consider severe,” Park joked feebly, before huffing and molding her facial features into an expression that Hunter could only describe as ‘fondly irritated’. “You know, you could have just said you didn’t want to eat the ice scream. You didn’t have to almost die because of it.”

Hunter blinked at the gentle reprimand, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he realized he was being taken to task by a teenager. He coughed to conceal the laugh in his throat. “I’d like to point out again that I was at no point in danger of dying,” he muttered perfunctorily, hoping to erase the gleam of worry he could still see lurking behind her eyes. “Trust me, I’ve been in enough life-threatening situations to know the difference.”

Park’s eyes widened and her mouth parted around a small wheeze. “I…you…what?”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “I’m saying you don’t need to be concerned about my welfare. I’ve experienced severe physical injury related to my,” he lowered his voice again. “…inconvenience often enough that I know what it feels like when my body is truly reaching its limits. I correctly surmised that consuming two scoops of ice scream, while unpleasant, would not harm me beyond what I could bear.” He paused, considering the events that had just unfolded. “…I may have failed to account for the impact my headache clearly had on the situation.”

Park continued to stare at him as though he had spontaneously grown a second head from his stomach. Porter shifted uneasily, tugging at the collar of his school uniform. “Um, yeah, I guess you did!” The boy blurted out. “But also what the heck man?”

“What?”

Porter twisted his hand in an erratic, but ultimately meaningless gesture. “You’ve ‘been in enough life-threatening situations’ and ‘experienced severe physical injury’ enough to know eating ice scream would suck big time, but not actually kill you? Are we just, I dunno, not gonna talk about that?”

“We are talking about it. You expressed concern that I was dying, I proceeded to assure you that I was not and explain how I could be confident in that assessment. What more is there to say?”

“Uh, how about everything? You’re like, what, 16? What life threatening situations could you possibly have gotten into? I need details, Caleb!”

“…That’s getting off topic,” Hunter retorted. In the first place, most of those ‘details’ Porter was demanding were part of very highly classified missions, and in the second place—

“Dude, c’mon! I helped heal you from the Revenge of the Ice Scream; you can’t just leave me hanging!”

In the second place, Hunter did not feel comfortable divulging such information to teenagers. “How did you heal me, exactly? I thought you said you were training to be an illusionist, not a healer.”

Porter pouted. “Now who’s changing the subject?”

“Gus,” Park scolded lightly, fumbling slightly with her glasses as she spoke. “If Caleb doesn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t have to. Don’t push him.”

Hunter couldn’t be sure, but he thought he detected the barest hint of relief in her voice.

“Aw, c’mon Willow. Aren’t you a little curious?”

“Gus.”

Ported sighed dramatically. “Ugh, fine.” He opened his hand to reveal a small wrought iron pendant boasting the colors and stylized sigil of the Healing Coven. “The Healing Coven’s booth was selling these minor restoration amulets for ten snails a piece. I thought it would be good to get one for the next time Boscha—I mean, I thought it would be neat to have one.” He grinned at Hunter. “Didn’t expect to have to use it so soon, though.”

Hunter stared at the amulet, before slowly shifting his gaze to Porter. “You used the entire enchantment on me?”

Porter nodded.

“Even though you had bought it to heal yourself in a time of need?”

“Pppfffft, no,” Porter scoffed, breaking eye contact with Hunter. “I mean, I didn’t buy it for a specific reason or anything. I just thought it would look cool, that’s all. And hey, it still looks cool even without the enchantment, so no worries, yeah?” He glanced back at Hunter. “Everything worked out in the end, so that’s all that matters, right?”

“…Sure,” Hunter agreed easily, pushing himself up from the chair. “That’s all that matters.”

Park instantly moved closer to his side, hovering but not touching. “Are you sure you should be getting up right now? You just went through a lot, even if the enchantment healed you. Maybe take it easy for a little bit.”

Hunter gently stepped around her, once again surveying the crowd. “I told you, I’m fine. The damage done by the ice scream was mostly superficial, it just hurt like hel-ck.”

“Nice save,” Porter snickered. Hunter ignored him.

“I appreciate the break, but I really need to get back to the theater now—I’ve been gone much longer than I should’ve been. So, if you’ll excuse me, I—” He cut himself off, narrowing his eyes as he caught sight of a very familiar witch weaving her way through the crowd.

Clawthorne was on the move.

And she wasn’t alone.

The Coven Head snaked her way through the throng of people, impatiently brushing aside requests for autographs and pictures or inquiries about her work in the Emperor’s Coven—opportunities Hunter knew Clawthorne normally treasured highly. The demon following after her appeared much less confident, constantly glancing over his shoulder or apologizing when he so much as jostled another individual. He took quick steps, sticking as close to Clawthorne as propriety and the crowd would allow, almost as if he were afraid to be parted from her.

Hunter frowned. They were headed in the opposite direction of the theater. Logically, whatever Clawthorne was planning should not be a concern to him at this time—at least not according to the parameters of the Owl Lady’s request. But something about the way they moved set Hunter on edge. Something about the swiftness of Clawthorne’s pace, the visible nervousness of her companion, the fact that she was maneuvering among the crowds at all when she should have been assisting her protégé in preparing for the upcoming duel.

Clawthorne could be overconfident, even somewhat full of herself at times, but he had never known her to be arrogant to the point of foolishness. Abandoning Blight to train alone, especially when she herself also had much riding on the outcome of this duel, was not the decision he would have expected the Coven Head to make.

So, why was she rushing through the crowds as though she were late for a meeting of the Greater Council, and yet running away from the theater? Why was her apprentice not in her company? It didn’t sit right with Hunter and he moved forward quickly, dodging other pedestrians left and right as he tracked the elder Clawthorne silently through the halls.

“Hey, Caleb, wait for us!”

“Where ya going?”

Almost silently.

Ignoring the cacophony of shouts and apologies—presumably from his companions colliding with other people in their haste to catch up with him—trailing in his wake, he stalked after his colleague until she arrived at an area of the building that was devoid of any Coven booths. The space had been sectioned off by a flimsy rope barrier and multiple towers of wood and stone, each of varying sizes and widths, had been erected at one end of the small enclosure. At the other end stood Blight, sweat beading on her forehead and her hands clenched into fists as she commanded breathlessly, “Abomination, destroy!”

The short, purple golem leapt at the targets. Two of the smaller, thinner wood towers shattered instantly under a surge of Abomination matter. The third endured a few attacks, but slowly gained more and more cracks under the relentless onslaught, until finally it swayed and fell. Blight panted heavily, her knees starting to buckle, but she clenched her jaw and raised another glowing fist. With a scream, she urged her creation toward the shortest stone tower. The Abomination swung its arm and, with a gurgling shout, splattered purple goo against the unyielding grey stones.

The glow around Blight’s fist flickered as she fell to her knees, fighting for breath and blinking moisture out of her eyes. The Abomination undulated for a moment, struggling to hold its shape, only to melt into a sticky puddle of goo as the spell finally gave out.

 Clawthorne cleared her throat and stepped into the ring.

Blight’s attention immediately snapped to her mentor, though she remained trembling on the hard aluminum floor. “Head Witch Clawthorne,” she panted when she had regained enough air to speak. “H-how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see that your stamina has greatly improved since the last time we sparred. Well done, Amity.”

Blight preened under the praise, a brilliant smile flashing over her face, though she quickly tried to hide it under a much more studious expression. “Thank you, ma’am! I remembered what you told me about being mindful of the ambient energy I release. I’ve been practicing keeping my bile lines clean during class, too!”

Clawthorne favored her apprentice with a small, but genuine, smile of her own. “Well, it seems all that practice certainly has paid off. However,” she added after a moment, glancing at the stone tower covered in Abomination matter. “I’m not sure it will be enough for this duel.”

Hunter flicked his ears forward, watching the two witches closely. While it didn’t surprise him to learn that the unyielding confidence Clawthorne had worn like a veil during her discussion with the Owl Lady had apparently been for show, his colleague sounded more contemplative than concerned. She must have already come up with some kind of plan.

Somehow, that thought wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been.

Blight frowned, turning to look at the parapet she had failed to demolish. “I know my spells aren’t as powerful as they should be,” she began hesitantly. “B-but I’m sure they’re strong enough to handle one pathetic human girl! I mean, I beat everyone in my period at Abomination Royale during gym last week! And three of those witches were Juniors! I know I can—” She fell silent as Clawthorne held up a hand.

“Amity, I’m not judging you. Don’t you remember? I warned you that attempting to constrain and control the flow of magic during your spellwork would result in your spells being weaker until you learn how to properly balance precision and control with raw power. I expected this outcome, and I certainly don’t condemn you for being unable to maintain the same level of power while consciously attempting to keep your excess energy from being released into the environment. No one, no matter how talented, can manage that without extensive practice.”

Blight’s shoulders slumped slightly as she let out a quiet breath. Hunter watched the tension drain from her weary frame and wondered if Clawthorne understood how much influence she held over the teenager.

Evidently, she did, because she held out a hand to help the young witch to her feet, and when she spoke, her voice was gentler than Hunter could ever recall it being. “I’ve never had a student who works as hard as you do, Amity. Believe me, I’m more than pleased with your progress. And if you were facing Luz alone, I have no doubt you would defeat her easily. But unfortunately, I have reason to believe her so-called ‘mentor’ plans to interfere with the duel.”

“You mean the Owl Lady?” Blight scoffed, a familiar smirk crossing her face. “I wouldn’t worry about her. My mother says she’s just a spineless, lazy con-witch who relies too much on wild magic instead of actually working for anything meaningful in her life.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. Odelia Blight was one to talk.

The corner of Clawthorne’s mouth ticked up. “That is my sister you speak of.”

Blight flushed tomato red. “You have a—she’s your—I-I’m so sorry, Head Witch! I meant no offense!”

Clawthorne laughed, reaching out to pat Blight lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t apologize. Your mother’s analysis, while harsh, isn’t completely inaccurate. My sister is obviously a criminal who favors wild magic, and she does tend to take the easy way out most of the time. Her expression soon sobered. “However, Edalyn is not, nor has she ever been, a coward, Amity. She is cunning and sharp, in her own misguided way. When she decides to fight for something—or someone—she throws herself into the fray wholeheartedly, without regard to law or consequence. Do you understand?”

Blight nodded slowly. “I think so. You think the Owl—er, Ms. Edalyn—is deceitful enough to tamper with a witch’s duel and powerful enough that she might succeed?”

“Precisely. That’s why we can’t afford to take chances on the outcome of the duel. We both have too much riding on it to risk losing. Especially since I have no idea what kind of tomfoolery my delinquent sister may be planning.”

“Ok. So, what do we do? If she is as unpredictable as you say, how can we possibly plan against her?”

By being tactical and using the human’s propensity toward emotionalism against her, Hunter thought. By incorporating defensive maneuvers into your training instead of relying solely on offensive exercises. Even dividing your magical energy to create multiple weaker Abominations to trigger the Owl Lady’s traps and overwhelm your opponent with sheer numbers. Anything but—

Clawthorne’s lips thinned, and her gaze grew sharp and calculating. “We can’t. There’s no reasoning with the unreasonable, Amity. Sometimes, the only way you can hope to reach them is by beating them at their own game.”

Blight nodded resolutely. “So, we’re going to cheat too.”

That.

Hunter bit down on his tongue to keep from screaming and ran his fingers through his hair, yanking harshly. Nine Covens, why was every so-called adult in his life so willing to disregard honor and integrity over a ridiculous disagreement between a couple of teenagers?

…Ok, yes, there was more to it than that. Clawthorne had made the outcome of this duel of great importance to every party involved. Including, unfortunately, Hunter himself. But stars above, did that mean everyone had to sell their moral code for a chance at winning?

“I prefer to think of it as…preparing for any possible contingency.” Clawthorne refuted as she gestured to the skinny demon still hovering behind her. “This is Mr. Springweld, one of the representatives of the Construction Coven this year.”

“Hello, young Lady Blight.”

Apparently, it did. Hunter clenched his jaw and slowly pulled his fingers out of his hair, trying to keep from tearing it out of his scalp in his frustration.

“We’re not in court, Mr. Springweld,” Blight politely countered as she shook his hand. “Please call me Amity.”

The demon swallowed. “Very well, Miss Amity.” He dug into the pocket of his coveralls and drew out a small bandana. Dabbing at the sweat beading on his forehead, he continued,  “Head Witch Clawthorne has told me a little about your problem. She thinks maybe I can help. Do you, uh, do you know what power glyphs are?”

Blight nodded. “Of course. They’re a method of performing magic unique to the Construction Coven. The correct symbol is drawn on a sheet of paper, which is then attached to a structure or person to strengthen it or them.”

“Th-that’s the gist of it, yes. Of course, it’s a little more nuanced than what they might have taught you in school. You can’t just use the same glyph for everything. I mean, take those training dummies over there,” he gestured erratically at the parapets. “Wood is an entirely different material than stone. A glyph that could reinforce a crumbling wall would shatter a rotting floor. P-people are the same way. Everyone’s bile lines flow differently; we all have different….propensities toward a certain kind of magic—even young witches like you, who haven’t chosen a Coven yet.” He wrung his hands nervously around the sweat-and-oil stained fabric. “So, the glyphs to strengthen people have to be made specific to the person themselves. Or it won’t work, you see?”

“I understand, Mr. Springweld.” Blight stared up at the fidgeting demon with a solemn look on her face; an expression of grim determination that would not have appeared out of place among hardened warriors as they assumed position on a field of battle. “What do you need me to do?”

Whatever reply Springweld made was drowned out as Hunter’s ears twitched back, drawn to the sounds of skidding feet and strident voices.

“Caleb!” Park shouted as she and Porter rounded the corner. “There you are!”

“Have you ever considered…going out for-for track?” Porter questioned through loud, ragged breaths. “You’d be pretty good at—hey!”

Hunter grabbed them both by the fringe of their uniforms, tugging them into the safety of the shadow just as Clawthorne’s piercing gaze swept over the room. “Quiet!” He muttered, quickly closing his eyes. A shiver raced down his spine. Purposely limiting the information he could glean from the environment didn’t sit well with him, but he could scarce afford the Coven Head to catch a glimpse of his eyes burning against the darkness.

A minute passed with only Springweld’s faltering, awkward attempts at a lecture filling the silence. Hunter carefully peeked through his lashes. There was a tenseness to Clawthorne’s stance that hadn’t been there previously; a stiffness to her spine and widening of her stance that suggested she wasn’t completely oblivious to his—to their—presence. But her face was turned away from their hiding place and her attention consumed by her young protégé and the bumbling, awkward explanations of the demon she had coerced in helping them, and so Hunter allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief as he opened his eyes fully and released his death grip on the teenagers’ cowls.

Park frowned at him. “What is this about? Why did you run off like that and why are you spying on Head Witch Clawthorne? Caleb…are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Constantly,” Hunter drawled. “But not the kind you’re thinking of. I simply…have an assignment to finish.”

“Great!” Porter cheered. “What kind of assignment? We can help!”

“Shhh!” Hunter hissed in a low tone, his gaze snapping to Clawthorne. Fortunately, the witch didn’t so much as twitch in their direction. He turned back around, leveling a glare on Porter who chuckled awkwardly.

“Whoops, my bad.”

Hunter groaned. “Don’t you two want to…I don’t know, finish exploring the Convention or whatever?”

“Nah, spying on government officials sounds way cooler!”

Of course it did. These were teenagers he was talking to. Civilian teenagers, at that.

“This isn’t a game, Porter—”

“Gus.”

“What?”

Porter tilted his head. “My name. It’s Gus—well, Augustus, actually. But you can call me Gus. And that’s Willow. I’m preeeety sure Luz told you our names back at the Owl Lady’s booth, remember?”

“Porter,” Hunter repeated firmly, not melting at all when the light dimmed behind the shorter boy’s eyes or his ears drooped sadly, like a Cerberus puppy denied a fresh skull to play with. “I’m not pretending to be a spy. I’m not playing a game. And I’m not,” he scowled at Park, “in any immediate danger from Clawthorne or Blight or any other witch. If you absolutely must know, the Owl Lady has tasked me with keeping an eye on her sister until the time of duel—” Not exactly the full truth, but he was hardly going to take the time spill out the whole sordid tale to these two interlopers. “—A duty which I was fulfilling admirably until you two insisted on shouting my name near the target and almost got me caught.”

“And um,” Park cleared her throat delicately, one hand going up to fiddle with her glasses as her gaze drifted slightly to the left of Hunter’s face. The hair on his neck began to rise and Hunter bit back the urge to groan. “Just to clarify, if you were caught, how, uh,” she swallowed tightly. “How bad would that actually be?”

Hunter straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and smoothed his expression out into a pale imitation of the calm, unbothered mask that Prince Hunter frequently wore throughout his comings and goings within the castle. He turned, blinking placidly at the sight of Clawthorne and Blight standing only inches away: the former staring down at him with a singularly unimpressed look, while the latter glared as if he had purposefully insulted her entire lineage. Behind them, the demon twitched nervously, the row of spines on his arms rustling softly with the motion.

“Head Witch Clawthorne,” he greeted respectfully.

Clawthorne raised an eyebrow. “So, my erstwhile sister sends children to do her dirty work now, does she? And yet she accuses the Emperor’s Coven of corrupting the minds of the young.”

“T-that’s not it at all!” Park exclaimed, stepping forward until she stood at Hunter’s shoulder. “Of course we weren’t trying to spy on you Head Witch! We just, uh, we got a little turned around in the crowd! And, uh…”

“And then we saw you!” Porter added, grinning toothily as he raced to flank Hunter’s left. “We thought maybe you could help us find the way back to the Swag Coven! We were just about to come ask for directions, in fact!”

Clawthorne’s gaze never left Hunter’s. “Is that so?”

“I’m sure it is!” Blight blustered, frowning at Park, before gesturing at her and Porter. “I recognize these two from Hexside. They’re just normal, average, run-of-the-mill witches—they aren’t even in the advanced classes yet. I bet they had no idea how completely inappropriate it is to bother an appointed official when she’s busy with her professional duties….right?”

Park stared at Blight for a second before visibly shaking herself from her stupor. “Uh, right. Yeah, of course. S-sorry to interrupt, Ms. Clawthorne. We’ll just be on our way now.” She nudged Hunter lightly with her elbow as she turned.

“Not so fast,” Clawthorne demanded. "I’m very interested to learn more about this ‘duty’ my sister has tasked you with.” She narrowed her eyes. “And what exactly you think you saw.”

“Us?” Porter forced a strangled, shrill laugh through his teeth. “We didn’t see anything. Did we guys?”

Hunter turned away from Clawthorne, letting his gaze roam from her to Blight to the two civilians standing faithfully at his side. “…No, Head Witch,” he muttered, his hands curling into fists at his side. “We saw nothing. Nothing except one of the most prominent witches in the Emperor’s Coven openly planning the most effective way for her protégé to cheat!”

“Caleb!” Park gasped, glancing frantically between him and Clawthorne. “He didn’t mean that!”

“Excuse you?” Blight clenched her jaw tightly, stomping forward. “How dare a peasant like you accuse the Emperor’s chosen Coven Head of cheating?”

“Maybe the question should be ‘how dare the Emperor’s chosen Coven Head set such a poor example for the young witches she’s supposed to guide and inspire?’ Or ‘how dare the Emperor’s chosen Coven Head cast aside her own integrity just to ensure she doesn’t lose a bet with her sister?’” He frowned. “Or even ‘how dare an alleged noble-witch behave with less honor than a five-year-old child?’”

Blight gaped, spluttering audibly as she searched for a rebuttal. “…Now you listen here, you—you arrogant, ignorant little mutt! You have no right to judge—!”

“That’s enough, Amity.”

“But Head Witch!”

Clawthorne held up a hand. “Return to your training. We don’t have long until the duel; I’ll deal with these three myself.” She glanced at the orange demon that was still hovering behind them. “Mr. Springweld can accompany you.”

“Oh!” The demon gasped. “Yes, of course! Certainly, Head Witch! Come, my la—I mean, Miss Amity. I’ll need a few minutes to properly read your bile lines, if the power glyph is to be effective.” He quickly rushed off, chattering inanely about the differences between raw, unfiltered magic and processed magic and how different spell circles altered the flow of energy in different ways. Blight threw one final, bitter glare over her shoulder, but followed after the Construction representative, nonetheless.

Once the two had returned to the arena, Clawthorne shifted her gaze back to Hunter. “Now, you were going to tell me exactly what kind of mission my sister sent you on.”

Hunter scoffed. “That’s it? You’re not even going to deny that you were caught cheating?”

“Not cheating,” Porter cut in, holding his hands out defensively. “Uh, he meant…uh, Willow, a little help here?”

“…Forming an unconventional battle plan?”

Porter snapped his fingers. “Yes, that! He meant that!”

Hunter raised an eyebrow at them both. “No. I meant cheating.” He turned back to Clawthorne. “And you are planning on it. Aren’t you?”

Clawthorne actually had the gall to laugh. “You accuse me as if my sister isn’t also planning a similar path. Tell me, young man, what exactly is your dear mentor’s plan to ensure her other apprentice actually stands a chance to win?”

“First of all, the Owl Lady is not my mentor. As if I would ever take advice on magic—or anything else—from a criminal like her,” Hunter scoffed. “And secondly, just because your sister refuses to fight with honor, doesn’t mean you need to do the same. You’re an elected official; you should hold yourself to higher standard than that.”

“Caleb!” Park and Porter groaned in unison. The latter facepalmed while the former grimaced and leaned in uncomfortably close. “You can’t just talk to a Coven Head like that,” she hissed.

“Yes.” Hunter raised his head to meet Clawthorne’s scowling face head on. “I can. What she’s doing isn’t right. What the Owl Lady is doing isn’t right. And I’m tired of pretending that I’m ok with grown adults behaving like children over some ridiculous duel that never should have escalated this far in the first place. I heard the bet you made with your sister, Clawthorne. I understand what you’re risking on the outcome of this duel. But there are better ways of defeating the Owl Lady than by sinking to her level.”

“You think you have all the answers, don’t you?” Clawthorne sneered. “Well, let me tell you something, Caleb. It’s easy to preach about honor when you’re not the one with everything on the line. Sometimes you have to bend the rules to save those you care about.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes. “You think you’re the only one who ever fought to protect someone? I understand more about that than you could ever know. But I realize now that there’s a line, Clawthorne. A limit to how far any of us can go. If you, as a known and beloved government official, a high-ranking member of the most illustrious Coven in the Boiling Isles, are discovered to be cheating—to openly practice the same level of deceit and trickery associated with the most infamous wild witch in the Deamon Realm—how do you think that’s going to reflect on the Coven you represent?” He gestured in the direction of the arena. “How do you think it’s going to make your apprentice look, if word gets out that she unfairly augmented her Abominations with power glyphs instead of relying on her own strength and skill? You’re Head Witch of the Emperor’s Coven—are you really going to stand here and tell me you can’t think of any better way to beat a common criminal than by cheating?”

Silence echoed in the wake of his declaration, but as the seconds ticked by, Clawthorne’s gaze only hardened. “What would you have me do, child? You, who have lived so little, but dare scold me for what? Not living up to your idealized, childish standards of honor and integrity? You have no idea what I’m fighting for—what I stand to lose! Don’t you dare lecture me on what it means to lead when my sister is—!” She froze, taking several deep breaths and running her fingers over her hair, smoothing away the frazzled and disheveled edges. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. But I refuse to stand here and be criticized by a teenager who has no concept of what true loss actually means.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Titan, maybe you’re right. Maybe there is a ‘better way’ to beat Edalyn than by sinking to her level. But I don’t have the time to try to find it. Not when my sister’s life hangs in the balance.”

Hunter opened his mouth, but before he could retort, the air reverberated with an explosion of energy and force. Blight tottered forward in the wake of the blast, her face pale and her footsteps unsteady. But her eyes gleamed with borrowed power and her lips curled in a triumphant smirk. “I’m ready.”

Behind her, Springweld drifted uncertainly, one hand half outstretched, as though he wanted to steady the girl. “Please remember what I said. The glyph is a temporary power boost at best. Given your age, it isn’t safe to keep using it for very long. You’ll have to end the duel quickly or it might cause you severe damage.”

“I know,” Blight assured him. “I can handle it, don’t worry.” She turned to face her mentor. “Let’s take those losers down.”

Clawthorne nodded. “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Springweld. I trust you will be…discrete regarding your work here today?”

“O-oh, yes, of course. Whatever you want, Head Witch! Mum’s the word!”

“Good. Then you may return to the Construction booth.” Placing a gentle hand on Blight’s shoulder, she steered the girl toward the theater. “Oh, and Caleb…you might want to hurry along, if you still mean to report back to my sister. Not that it will make much of a difference, in the end.” As she and Blight disappeared into the crowd, Hunter barely heard her mutter, “I will find a way to save Edalyn, no matter what it takes.”

Hunter sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He couldn’t fault Clawthorne her loyalty or her conviction, but damn it all, this was going to Tartarus in a tote bag.

Porter coughed rather unsubtly. “So, I guess we’re going to go rat out a government official now, huh?”

“No.”

“Oh.” The boy’s expression fell, though he quickly tried to hide it. “Are you sure? Because, for the record, I would totally be ok with that. If you wanted to.”

“Porter—”

“Gus.” The young witch stressed.

“We are not going to help perpetuate this mockery of a duel any further.” Hunter shook his head, scoffing under his breath. “I never should have let it get this far, but I was afraid of opposing the Owl Lady directly. Now, the reputation of the Emperor’s Coven—not to mention the welfare of two teenagers—is at risk because I decided currying favor with a criminal was more important than standing up for what I know to be right.”

The two civilians exchanged a glance. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean,” Park admitted with a small smile. “But it sounds like you could use some help.”

“Yeah! Let’s go willfully obstruct a witch’s duel between the apprentices of one of the highest-ranking members of the Emperor’s Coven and the fourth most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles!” Porter paused, the glee on his face melting to disappointment. “Wait, but if we stop their duel, that means we won’t be able to see Luz kick Amity’s butt!”

“Again, that’s kind of the point,” Hunter snorted. “And I don’t have the time to keep discussing it with you. I’m going to end this duel, one way or another. You two can either join me or get out of my way.”

“We’re with you,” Willow assured quickly. She elbowed Porter, who let out a beleaguered groan.

“Fine. Let’s go stop the duel of the decade.” He quickly jabbed a finger in Hunter’s general direction. “But for the record, you owe me for this. I was finally gonna see someone take a member of Boscha’s gang down a notch. It was gonna be epic!”

“I’m sure you’ll live,” Hunter droned flatly. “Now let’s move; we don’t have much time.”

Chapter Text

Hunter brushed past the open flap of the theater, roughly jostling a towering behemoth of a demon. The man turned, pinning him with a dark glare. “Hey! Line’s back there, bub! Wait your turn!”

Hunter ignored the protest, easily twisting out of reach when the man made to grab him, and continued weaving his way through the crowd, ignoring the hasty apologies Park and Porter were issuing on his behalf as they fumbled along in his wake.

He didn’t have time for this.

His eyes scanned the bustling mob restlessly, darting from body to body as he sought out his targets. A familiar flicker of grey caught his attention just as a portly witch cut in front of him, muttering a half-hearted “excuse me, dearie,” as she tried to squeeze into the already overflowing bleachers.

Hunter bit back the sharp retort burning on his tongue and raced around her, sprinting to the far side of the theater as quickly as the jumbled flock of bodies pressing around him would allow.

The human noticed his approach first, looking over with a wide, relieved smile. “Caleb! You came back! Oh, man, I was starting to think you’d ditched us or something.”

“Where were you?” The Owl Lady pressed, hands on her hips as she frowned down at him. “I thought I told you to keep an eye on the door.”

Hunter stared at the Owl Lady, his mouth pressing into a thin line. How easy would it be to spin the situation to his favor? Covens, if she knew he had followed Clawthorne, had not only discovered that her sister also planned to cheat but the manner in which she had chosen to do so, the younger Clawthorne would most likely praise him for his ingenuity and quick thinking. Knowing her, it was entirely possible that his deviation from her initial order would endear him enough to receive an invitation to the Night Market after all.

“Technically, you told me to keep an eye out for your sister, which I did. You never specified I must remain at the door to do so.”

The corner of her mouth ticked upwards, amusement flashing through her eyes. Hunter sighed. It was just a shame he had to ruin it now.

“Whoa, Blondie. A loophole? I didn’t think you had it in ya.” She grinned, bright and taunting, and raised a hand to slap him on the back. Hunter shuffled to the side.

“What did you find out?” Luz wondered, her voice just a little higher, a little faster, than usual. “Any cool information that you might like to share with the group? Something like, I dunno, Amity suddenly coming down with a case of hiccups and not being able to cast spells the right way? Or that she’s got a big ole blind-spot on her left side, or maybe a secret confession that she doesn’t really want to duel at all, and we can just forget all about the whole death-handshake deal thing? Maybe? Please?”

“Not exactly, although if we’re taking a vote, I definitely agree with stopping this farce before it gets any farther.” He scowled as he glanced around the covered mounds littering the battlefield. “Not only are you dishonoring yourselves and your opponents by seeking to steal a victory unfairly—”

“Oh, here it comes!” The Owl Lady rolled her eyes theatrically, smirking at Hunter. “The standard goodie-two-boots speech. I wondered how long you’d last before you just had to get up on your high beast and preach at us.”

“—But you’re putting your life as well as Blight’s at risk if you allow this duel to continue!” Hunter pressed on, ignoring both the Owl Lady’s jab and the sting of disappointment in his chest. He’d find another way to get the elixir. But he couldn’t allow two children, one of whom was a guest under his protection and the other a citizen of the Isles in her own right, to endanger their own lives without at least trying to prevent it.

The human, at least, frowned, her brow crinkling and the edge of her bottom lip disappearing under a row of teeth. “But we aren’t…Eda said the traps would be safe.” She protested, turning to face her mentor.

“And they will be!” The Owl Lady retorted, glancing out at the mounds herself. “…Mostly.”

“Eda!”

“Luz, it’s a witch’s duel. A real witch’s duel. I know that book of yours tried to hide it under the flowery language and, ugh, frankly horrible prose—”

“Hey!”

“But the truth is witch’s duels aren’t ever really totally ‘safe’.” She knelt by the human, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. “But I’ve done everything in my power to make this one as safe as I can, and still let us come out on top, ok?”

The human studied her for a moment, then nodded, her concern ebbing at the soothing pile of shit spewing out of the Owl Lady’s mouth. “Ok. I trust you, Eda.”

“Well, I don’t,” Hunter grumbled. “And even if I did, that only accounts for traps you two set. It offers no guarantee that you’ll be safe from Blight. Or that she won’t go into severe bile drain trying to take you out, for that matter.”

The Owl Lady tilted her head. “What are you talking about, kid? Greenie Weenie may have a serious stick up her butt, but not even she would push herself into bile drain just to prove a point.”

Hunter sighed. “Intentionally? Probably not, she’s smarter than that. But there’s a good chance her magic may end up draining faster than she expects.” He focused on the human, hardening his expression. “And her spells may turn out to be a lot stronger than you expect. End the duel, human, now. While you’re still capable of doing so.”

The human wavered. He could see the indecision playing out across her face, the uncertainty in the scrunch of her eyebrows. Before she could make up her mind; however, the lights dimmed overhead, and the relentless drone of conversation muted as Clawthorne and Blight stepped onto the field.

Bump, ever the spokesperson for the Covention it would seem, gave a rousing introduction that had the crowd cheering Blight’s name and booing their discontent for the human.

The two Clawthorne sisters exchanged even more jabs and insults as they pushed their respective apprentices forward.

Park and Porter finally caught up, nearly bowling Hunter over in the low light. He glowered and rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn’t comment on either their tardiness or their clumsiness. He only narrowed his eyes and hoped beyond hope that the duel would end with minimal bloodshed.

He really should have known better.

               Hunter grunted softly as Blight summoned an Abomination that was easily twice the size of the ones she had produced previously. Under the appreciative roar of the crowd, he could just make out the whimper of the human as she stared down the behemoth, just barely catch the amazed gasp as Blight started to grasp what the power glyph was fully capable of.

            There was a reason it alone, among all the glyphs still lost to time, had been preserved throughout generations until the day Uncle had first arrived in the Boiling Isles. There was a reason it endured, even under the harsh reign of the old King; a reason the Emperor had permitted it to remain even as he instituted the Coven system to safeguard them all.

The power glyph alone out all the glyph and glyph combinations that had once been so widely practiced by the ancient witches was the only one that drew its magic from a witch’s bile sac, rather than from the ambient, wild magic still poisoning the air and water and earth. It was the last glyph to be ‘discovered’, the only one to be created, and the only one whose corrupting influence could be managed.

To an extent.

As Springweld had so articulately pointed out, it was still capable of great harm if used unwisely. That was why Hunter had suggested tethering the knowledge of its creation and use to a single Coven, thus limiting the likelihood of abuse or misuse while still allowing their people access to a tool which, when utilized properly, had the propensity for great power, service, and protection.

When utilized properly.

Not at the hands of a teenager whose only aim was revenge against a perceived slight to her academic record.

Not against a human who had no magic of her own to speak of, no sense of strategy, tactics, or weapons work, and whose only defense was a myriad of untried and untested magical traps which may or may not actually be effective against a creature imbued by the strength of the power glyph. 

And certainly not with the approval of the Head Witch of the Emperor’s Coven, who more than anyone else should be intelligent, knowledgeable, and mature enough to recognize the danger she was putting both girls in by allowing an untrained child with no Coven sigil to wield such power, just for a chance at capturing the Owl Lady.

(Hunter understood, better than anyone, the weight of responsibility and the heavy expectation of duty…but victory should never come at the expense of their people. Not unless there was no other option.)

Hunter watched as the human fled from the towering construct. He held his breath as it ripped off its head, throwing it at her in a ranged assault. She dodged, slamming her shoulder against the wall seconds before the projectile would have hit her. The Abomination pursued, blocking her in. Hunter curled his hands into fists, arms twitching with the desire to fling a weapon of his own at the lumbering golem. He dug his heels into the sandy surface of the arena and resisted.

Barely.

The human screamed and Park and Porter screamed with her, their proximity to his sensitive ears causing him to wince. Before he could snap at either of them, the Abomination stepped on one of the Owl Lady’s traps, activating a raging column of fire.

It roared with such intensity that it drowned out the human’s screams. It burned with such power that Hunter could feel the heat even from his position behind the arena. It grew until it almost touched the ceiling, tongues of flame reaching to lick at the rafters and skylights.

And still it only scorched the leg of the augmented Abomination.  

The creature moaned and knelt down, smothering the flames under its giant hand. Blight smirked. “I told Head Witch Clawthorne there was no need to worry. If that’s the strongest spell your mentor can manage, I’m about to set a new Isle record for how quickly I defeat you!”

The Owl Lady frowned. “Why that little—hey, Luz! Lead Jumbo over there to the right! The right!”

“What?” The human called back, glancing hastily over her shoulder, only to whip her head back around seconds later, when the Abomination’s shadow fell over her. “You want me to use my light?” She shouted as she dodged the construct’s heavy fist. “I thought you said to stick to the tra—ah, other spells! That I definitely know! Because I’m the one casting magic!” She rambled, throwing a wide-eyed stare at Blight.

Hunter facepalmed.

“No,” The Owl Lady bellowed. “Go to the right!”

“Save it, Luz.” Blight taunted. “We already know you and the Owl Lady are cheating. Too bad it won’t be enough to save you. Abomination, destroy!”

The Abomination roared, glowing with purple light—the same aura that suddenly emanated from Blight. The girl gave a shout and raised both hands and her creation surged forward, spikey outgrowths forming in the places where the light coalesced the brightest. With another earth-shattering rumble, the golem tore the large barbs from its body and flung them at the human, forcing her to bob and weave frantically as slimy projectiles exploded all around her, splattering the field in thick Abomination goo.

“I didn’t know Abominations could do that,” Park breathed.

“It’s a higher-level spell,” Hunter agreed. “Though I’m not surprised Blight knows it. Clawthorne’s evidently been teaching her well.”

“But Luz can still win this, right?”

Hunter flicked his ears forward and stared intently across the field, his gaze locked on the two challengers. He didn’t respond.

Blight panted, blinking furiously to try and keep beads of sweat from dripping into her eyes. Her knees trembled and her hands were starting to fall. Still, she pressed on, though the pallor of her skin grew more translucent by the moment.

The human wheezed, coughing clouds of dust and sand from her lungs as she sought cover where there was none. With each spike flung into the earth, the ground thundered and shook, sending more swirls of silt and soil into the air.

Splat. A spike smeared into the wall of the bleachers.

Boom. Another one launched just to the left of the challenger’s box.

A moan and a rush of air—the Abomination triggered a spire of wind. Blight gasped, the glow around her body flickering, and the creature staggered, pushed back by the buffeting winds.

“No,” Blight gasped. “No! I won’t lose!”

The human hesitated and turned, her voice rich with concern when she called, “Amity are you ok? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine!” Blight snapped. “Mind your own business, human!” She raised shaking hands, her sides heaving with the effort it took to breathe. The Abomination began to melt, the side of its face splashing down to the ground as Blight lost her hold on her creation.

“I can’t believe it!” Porter cheered. “Luz is actually gonna win this!”

“Alright, go Luz!” The Owl Lady shouted. “That’ll show ‘em!” She smirked at Hunter. “And you wanted to stop the duel.”

Blight made a noise more reminiscent of a wild beast than a young witch. With a wordless snarl, she threw out her hands, propelling the Abomination forward with the strength of her will alone. The shrinking golem stumbled toward the human, once more tearing off its head in a final, desperate attack.

The human tried to run, but her foot caught the edge of a mound, sending her tumbling in a graceless dive. The Abomination head soared harmlessly over her body, crashing against the far side of the bleachers and splattering a few observers in the lower seats. Blight fell to her knees, fighting for breath as what was left of her creation finally melted into a shallow puddle of Abomination goo.

Park and Porter cheered, whistling and clapping for their friend.

The Owl Lady beamed with pride, strutting forward to join her apprentice on the field.

Clawthorne scowled and marched over to Blight, her severe features softening slightly when the girl looked up at her.

And from the mound near the human’s foot, unnoticed by all, cracks began to appear in the sand.

Hunter’s eyes widened and he raced forward. “Get off the field now!”

“Before Lilly and Baby Blight make good on their sides of the deals?” The Owl Lady crowed, throwing a shit-eating grin at Clawthorne. “I don’t think so!”

“Edalyn—”

A thick vine exploded from the earth, growing taller and thicker with each passing second. At its head, a bud began to harden and split, forming a large mouth filled with rows of thorny teeth.

The human whirled around to face the Owl Lady. “Eda? What the heck is that?”

Clawthorne glowered at her sister. “You planted a Mars Witchtrap?! Are you out of your mind?!”

“Relax, Lilly. Like I would ever actually plant one of these things and not have the antidote on hand.” She dug around in her hair and pulled out a bottle marked “Peddlin’ Pete’s Perfected Plant-i-cide”. Smirking, she tossed it over her shoulder at the Witchtrap.

The plant swung its mouth forward, snatching the bottle out of the air with a snap of its jaws.

Everyone in the theater seemed to hold their breath as the plant-i-cide slid down the Witchtrap’s throat. A beat passed. Then two.

Then the ground shook as dark purple roots tore through the earth. One set surged forward, wrapping its thin, needle-like protrusions around the Owl Lady and lifting her high into the air. The second set lunged as well, aiming for Blight, but the human slammed into her, shoving the witch out of the way, only to be quickly ensnared in her place.

“Ahhh! Eda! What do we do?”

“Don’t worry, Luz, I got this! Hey thorny! You want eat us? Well, I hope you like your meals spicy!” The Owl Lady twisted, bending an arm back towards the creature in a way a witch her age—or really, any creature with a structurally sound endoskeleton—should not be able to do and traced a circle next to one of the plant’s giant leaves.

“No!” Park shouted. “Don’t aim for the stem—”

A blast of fire cut her off, tearing through the plant with a thunderous roar. The Owl Lady smirked. “Hah! Take that you overgrown weed!”

“You did it! Great!” The human cheered. “But, uh, how do we get down now?”

Clawthorne sighed and stepped forward, tracing a circle of her own. “Honestly, Edalyn, do you ever think anything throu—”

Before she could complete her circle or her thoughts, another set of roots lunged forward, binding her hands and coiling around one of her feet. She yelped as she was pulled through the air to dangle upside down near the smoldering stem.

A stem that was beginning to quiver and creak. In a burst of neon green light, the Witchtrap regrew and spilt, dividing into two snapping, drooling mouths. The Owl Lady scowled and made to attack again, only to be arrested by the sound of Park’s voice.

“Stop! Don’t attack again! A Mars Witchtrap can regrow if it’s damaged, and when it does, its buds double in number and aggression!”

It was almost comical how fast the Owl Lady froze. “Really coulda used that information earlier, kid!”

The Witchtrap snapped both of its thorn-riddled mouths, hefting Clawthorne and the Owl Lady even higher as more roots ripped through the ground, aiming for the witchlings surrounding it.

“Guys!” The human called as she turned to stare at Porter, Park, and Blight. “Run!”

“I think we’re the ones you need to worry about, Luz!” The Owl Lady called as she squirmed away from the plant’s steaming mouth. She rocked back as far as she could, then swung her leg forward, scraping the bud with the harsh point of her boot. “I am your master!” She seethed. “Obey me! I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!”

As the Clawthorne sisters struggled to keep from being digested and the human did her best to aid them in that endeavor (which in so far as Hunter could tell, appeared to mainly consist of emptying the contents of her pockets and flinging them in the direction of the mouth that seemed most immediately threatening at any given point in time), Blight, Porter, and Park continued to frantically dodge the needle-like roots attempting to capture them.

Hunter raced between the three of them as fast as he was able, slipping between the branches and their prey whenever he had the chance. He couldn’t risk pulling a weapon without severely exacerbating the situation, but he was more than willing to use himself as a shield if it would spare the three witches a worse fate.

He grunted as four whip-like protrusions lashed across his chest, cutting through his shirt and leaving long thin welts in their wake. Another root slithered near his foot, attempting to trap him as it had trapped Clawthorne, but he jumped over the creeping roots as Blight scurried off unharmed.

Near center field, Park panted heavily, her eyes glazing over as her hands pulsed with plant-green magic. The Witchtrap flashed intermittently with the same aura, and though she couldn’t fully stop the enraged flora, her influence bought them all something precious: time.

Between her power and antics of the three imbeciles dangling from its clutches, the Witchtrap was distracted enough so that Hunter had time to shoulder-check Porter out of the way, taking a blow that was meant for him. From the corner of his eye, he saw that the Owl Lady had adopted the human’s ‘toss all your shit at the enemy and hope for the best’ approach, while Clawthorne seemed to be taking a fiendish delight in driving the very solid heels of her Coven-regulation boots into whatever soft, fibrous plant part drifted into her reach.

Apparently, the term ‘damage’ was meant to be applied loosely. Or maybe Park had meant magical damage versus mundane—if that was the case, then Hunter could afford to use his arsenal at a much lower cost than he had initially—

“Dude, move your butt!” A hand bunched into the back of his shirt, tugging him to the side. He and Porter both fell against the sand but managed to avoid another clash with the vicious needle-like roots.

“Caleb, you good?” Porter demanded as they both leapt to their feet. “You totally zoned out there! And also why did you run towards the creepy roots? Not that I don’t appreciate the save and all, but—”

“Questions later, run now!” Hunter barked, shoving Porter ahead as another clump exploded from underneath their feet. “Converge on Park!”

“Willow?” Porter wheezed, his tone betraying both his exertion and confusion, but a flash of false green in his peripheral caught Hunter’s attention before he could explain.

Blight had stumbled.

The young witch was fighting for breath, her sides heaving as her knees sunk deeper into the soft sand. Her uniform, drenched in sweat, clung to her body like a second skin, and her arms twitched and spasmed fruitlessly as she struggled to push herself back up.

The power glyph had finally exacted its pound of flesh.

Hunter swore and peeled away from Porter, ordering him to press on towards Park in his absence. He sprinted towards the fallen witch, already fishing in his pocket for one of the small throwing stars he kept on his person. The ground around Blight quivered and cracked as a new set of roots sprung up, towering over her like a spindly, gnarled cage.

The star flew from his fingertips, spinning through the air in a tight arc similar to the flying discs children used to play with. In the same breath, Blight looked up, her lips parted in a wordless cry and vanished from Hunter’s sight.

She reappeared seconds later, standing free on the far side of the cage. Hunter staggered, taken by surprise. Teleportation was among the most difficult and dangerous spells to learn; how had Blight come upon the knowledge? And how had she done so without using Abomination matter as a medium?

Blight, understandably, did not linger to offer an explanation. She turned and ran as Hunter’s star finally made contact with the Witchtrap, sharp blades sawing through several of the protrusions before continuing on its arc.

The Witchtrap screamed and retracted its roots, a barbed vine flying toward Hunter in retaliation. Hunter grunted as several thorns lodged themselves in his skin, burrowing deep as the thick stalk wrapped around him.

“Caleb!” Porter’s voice screeched from somewhere behind him. The air shimmered with blue light, revealing Blight kneeling in the sand, still panting with exhaustion as she stared in their direction.

Well, that made a hell of a lot more sense. Hunter felt some of the tension drain from his body, in spite of his current circumstances. For a moment, he was afraid that he had somehow missed Odelia’s youngest learning a skill that could potentially enable her family to gain access to highly restricted areas—or worse yet: information.

Then the vine around his shoulder tightened, dragging him forward as the Witchtrap retracted it back to itself. Park shouted and the stalk pulsed with deep green magic, the force of her power vibrating like electricity against his skin. The vine withered under the verdant glow, shriveling down into something thin and dry and dead. Hunter wasted no time rushing to Blight, ignoring the stinging twinge of thorns nestled in his flesh. “Can you move?” He demanded.

Blight—the true Blight—frowned at him, suspicion mixing with fear in her eyes. “Why do you care?”

“Because I actually give a damn whether you live or die. Don’t ask me why, I just do. So, you can either take my hand of your own free will or I can throw you over my shoulder like a sack of scarrots, but either way I’m not leaving you here.”

Blight scoffed, somehow managing to turn her nose up at him despite being the one kneeling on the ground. Then a sickening squelch echoed across the field and Hunter’s attention snapped toward the mother stalk in time to see two more buds sprout from the fibrous plant tissue. Blight had already been dangerously pale—now her eyes narrowed to pinpricks and her pallor faded into something almost translucent. She swallowed, her gaze cutting once more to him as her nails dug even further into the sand. “Fine. But only because I’m letting you help.” She tried to school her face into something more imperious, but the effect was betrayed by the sweat on her brow and the quiver she couldn’t quite smother in her voice. “Someone like you could never force a Blight to do anything.”

“Sure. And if Odelia ever questions it, I’ll be sure to substantiate that you very magnanimously allowed me to save your life, now let’s go!”

Blight frowned, her forehead creasing as she opened her mouth, presumably to continue arguing over pointless details. Hunter rolled his eyes, pulling her up before she could rattle off whatever additional insult she had planned. As they stumbled away from the Witchtrap, Hunter’s grip tightened on Blight’s arm. The air buzzed with the remnants of Park’s magic, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield, and occasionally Hunter saw a double of either himself or Blight cross his path, darting left and right as they further divided the Witchtrap’s attention—and they weren’t the only ones.

“Dang it, kids! Cut it out with the spells already! This thing doesn’t need more ways to try and eat us!” The Owl Lady screeched as she dangled over one of the newly formed mouths. Clawthorne gave a war-cry worthy of one of Hunter’s own scouts and threw her body weight forward, slamming into the underside of the mouth. The thorny maw shrieked and would have turned its attention to the Head Witch, if not for a very well-placed blow from the human’s ridiculous book.

“There’s more where that came from, sucka!”

As the captives fought to hold the plant at bay, he and Blight trudged to center field as fast as the exhausted young witch could manage. Another flash of blue swirled before his eyes and Porter and Park appeared in an instant. Porter hurriedly waved them closer, and when Hunter obliged, he drew another large spell circle, weaving an illusion of empty space all around them. In his right hand, twin rings of light spun endlessly around his index and middle fingers.

Hunter reached into one of his hidden pockets, pressing a cache of darts into Blight’s hands as he lowered her to the ground. “I’ll be wanting those back when we’re done.”

Blight stared at the darts. She blinked up at him, her forehead crinkling. She shifted her gaze back down to cache. “What in the name of the Titan—” 

This time, Hunter didn’t refrain from rolling his eyes. “We have to kill the Witchtrap.” He hissed, trying to keep from outright snapping at the noble witch. The human’s shouts and the Owl Lady’s taunts echoed in his ears—an audible reminder of how much time they didn’t have. “Magic may not work, but mundane weapons will. Those darts are filled with a powerful paralytic. All you have to do is aim and throw.”

Her face pinched. “I don’t—I’ve never fought without magic before. I’m not—” She forcibly bit off the rest of what she was going to say, glaring at the projectiles as if they had purposefully offended her family name.

Considering what she had very nearly confessed to, they might as well have.

Hunter cringed at the human’s war cry behind him, but kept his eyes trained on the Abomination witch. “You can throw a ball, can’t you?”

“Of course!”

“Then you should have no trouble throwing a dart. They’re smaller, but that’s not as important as the size of your target. Just aim away from the captives and I doubt you’ll have much cause for concern.”

Blight pursed her lips, her brow furrowed as she studied the cache in her hands. Her eyes darkened and a familiar glint of disdain passed over her face, but before she could sneer a word a familiar scream rent the air.

Hunter whirled around, twin blades appearing in his hands as if by magic. His breath caught in his throat even as he leapt forward, abandoning the safety of Porter’s illusion.

Behind him, a symphony of less familiar, more terrified shouts echoed through the still air. “Head Witch Clawthorne!”

“Stay where you are!” He bellowed at the trio behind him. “Hold the line!” He plowed forward, never turning to see if his orders would be obeyed and let one of the knives fly from his fingertips.

It lodged deep in the hard part of the stem just under the bud, forcing the Witchtrap to release Clawthorne with a painful, furious screech.

The Coven Head tumbled to the ground, bleeding and pale, but alive.

“Lilly!” The Owl Lady screamed, thrashing even harder in the Witchtrap’s hold, but this time the vines didn’t tighten.

This time all four mouths turned in Hunter’s direction and the ground under his feet began to tremble and quake with pent up energy.

The roots exploded through the soil faster than he could dodge, coiling around his feet and slashing deep into his torso. Hunter lashed out with a yell of his own, blade whirling through the air.

As bits of roots fell to the ground, a glint of light off of metal caught Hunter’s eye. From empty space a dart appeared, flying past his face to pierce one of the thick vines holding the human in place.

That was not aiming away from the captives. Hell, that was barely aiming away from him!

The human crashed against the ground, pushing herself up with a groan and quickly rushing to Hunter’s side, wielding her idiotic book like a club. “Get away from him you jerk!”

“Human…!”

She hovered at his left, battering one of the roots ineffectively with the tome as he continued to chop away at the few still slithering up on his right. “If you tell me to run, I’m hitting you next! No te voy a dejar atrás, idiota!”

“I was going to tell you to fight smarter,” Hunter grunted, fumbling for an extra knife. “Nine Covens, human, we’ve been through this! At least use a real weapon!”

“Hey, a book can so be a real weapon!” The human defended as she took the blade. “Lots of things can be a real weapon if you try hard enough. You should see what my Mami can do with la chancla.”

Another dart zipped through the air, this one nearly nicking his arm as it hit the middle of the stem.

“Blight! Aim better! I shouldn’t have to dodge attacks from my own side, damnit!”

“Maybe you should stop getting in my way then!”

 Hunter rolled his eyes. “None of you would last five minutes in a real war,” he muttered.

“You wouldn’t either,” the human retorted as she sliced through another root.

The Witchtrap snarled and threw two of its mouths forward, aiming for them both. Hunter tensed, crouching low. “Human—”

“Just tell me when.”

A shadow, a flash of green, and then— “Now!”

Hunter rolled to the side while the human threw herself to the ground. The mouths burrowed deep into the soil as Hunter turned and pounced. He swung his knife before they could dislodge from the dirt, cutting through one of the thick stalks with a sickening squelch. On his left, the human mirrored his action, though with more grunting and groaning. Still, the second stem soon hung limply in the air, dripping sticky sap onto the lifeless head below.

“Whooo!” The Owl Lady cheered. “That’s how you do it! Great job, Luz!”

“Thanks, Eda!” The human called, waving back.

The Witchtrap roared, sending three more vines flying in their direction. Hunter ducked and dodged, dancing around the creeping foliage as his knife sung through the air. The human likewise stumbled and flinched and jumped out of reach, stabbing and thrusting her own blade in sharp, erratic patterns.

More snips of green fell to the ground and the vine holding the Owl Lady finally loosened. She spun her staff as she fell through the air, catching herself in the nick of time. A shadow loomed over her as she touched down, one of the mouths poised to strike, but a flash of blue swirled on the air and the Owl Lady smirked. Her form doubled, tripled, her doppelgangers racing left and right, cackling loudly and slinging taunts like arrows.

“Can’t catch me, manure breath!”

“Over here, you overgrown salad bowl!”

“You’re the reason Titan created aphids!”

“Daaa-rn, I gotta remember some of those,” the Owl Lady cackled as she took advantage of the chaos to dart over to Clawthorne. The Witchtrap hissed, it’s vines tearing through illusions like paper.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hunter watched a blue dome flicker as Porter, Park, and Blight shimmered in and out of existence. He heard Park’s ragged breaths and watched as the green glow surrounding the Witchtrap began to fade.

“We need to end this now!” He shouted over the plant’s furious roars. “Before your friends drive themselves into bile-drain!”

The human’s eyes widened, and she glanced behind her, her expression crumpling at the sight of the other three. She turned back to Hunter, nodding resolutely. “What’s the plan?”

“I’ll tell you what the plan is! We chop that thing down, grind it into paper, and print something horrible on it! Like a picture of Ma in her bathrobe and grime-guts mask. Remember, Lilly?” The Owl Lady chuckled, elbowing her sister as the two of them converged on Hunter’s location.

“Edalyn this is serious,” Clawthorne scolded, shaking the last of the healing magic from her hands. She drew a spell circle, summoning a bow to her hands. The Owl Lady raised an eyebrow.

“Since when can you use a bow?!”

Clawthorne’s reply was cut off by the sound of jaws snapping through the air. “Scatter!” Hunter commanded, and for once no one argued.

The group split, dodging in four different directions. Clawthorne flanked the left, flinging arrow after arrow at the Witchtrap’s thick stalk. The Owl Lady darted to the right, spinning her staff to summon an army of forks, spoons and knives. Under the golden glow of her magic, they grew arms and legs and mouths, chattering loudly in obnoxious, high-pitched tones and flying forward with ruthless abandon.

“Go, my children!” She cackled wildly. “Destroy this abomination and avenge me!”

“Whoa!” The human ducked to avoid one of the chittering knives as it swooped past her head. “Now that’s putting the ‘cut’ in cutlery!” She studied the Witchtrap for a moment, then nodded decisively, raising her blade high above her head as she charged forward with a yell.

Hunter groaned, but followed after her, slipping a few more throwing stars into his hand. The glint of light off of metal continued to flash in his peripheral as darts flew fast and furious, lodging in leaves and vines and gnarled roots.

The mouths rumbled, the vines sagged slightly, wilting as the paralytic began to take effect. And through it all, the arrows continued to fly. Through it all knives and forks and meat cleavers chopped away at the Witchtrap, piece by piece, as the human closed in, her gait never faltering, her eyes narrowed in determination. She was so focused on her goal, that she didn’t notice the mound right in front of her feet.

Hunter’s eyes widened. “Human, watch out—”

The warning came too late. She stepped on the trap, triggering a column of ice that froze under her feet and propelling her high into the sky. Gritting her teeth, she flung the weapon, lodging it deep into the center of one of the mouths.

The Witchtrap screeched, vines and roots alike flying toward the human. Hunter cursed under his breath and the stars soared from his fingers. They whirled through the air, slicing through the vicious flora before it could harm her. The human crashed to the ground, landing on knees and elbows, but pushed herself up nonetheless. She stumbled back as Hunter hastily darted forward. “Are you hurt?”

“No. No, I think I’m ok.”

“Good. Then, when this is over, remind me to kill you.” He pulled out a thin metal tube roughly the size of his forearm. “Take this, aim for the roots, and by the Nine, don’t fucking throw it again!”

The human pursed her lips, but thankfully had enough common sense not to start an argument in the middle of a battlefield. “What’s it do—aaah!”

She grazed the small button on the side, causing the tube to extend and release a sharp, curved blade from a slot at the top. A second later, the edge crackled and pulsed with electrical energy, sending sparks flying through the air as she spun it around.

“An electro-sycthe? Coo-ool!”

“Focus!”

“Right, right, right. Focusing. Totally focusing. Attack the roots; got it!” She charged forward, swinging the scythe above her head with a shrill yell.

Hunter scowled but pulled his attention back to his own assault.

Mostly. If he modified his trajectory slightly so that he could keep watch on the idiot human from the corner of his eye—well, that was nobody’s business but his own.

As she hacked away the roots, Hunter lunged around the side, drawing fire and slicing through any remotely plant-like material that got within arm's reach. Chunks of vines, roots, leaves and stems all fell to the ground around him as he spun, duck, leapt, and wove. He had just managed to sever the third mouth when the human’s screech echoed across the battlefield.

“Uh, Caleb? I think I found something!”

“What now?”

“I don’t know!” She ducked to avoid a sluggish, clumsy swipe. “It looks like a giant purple-yellow slime cell?”

“Luz found the…Witchtrap’s core!” Park panted, her voice barely audible over the din of the arena.

Porter’s confusion was nearly tangible. “Ok? And that’s a good thing?”

“A really good thing! If she can pierce it, we win!”

“Now you’re talking! But how do we tell them that?”

Hunter grinned, stabbing vindictively at another leaf that made the mistake of getting too close to his face. He wove around another writhing mass of roots and leapt over a spasming vine. “Human!” He shouted when he was close enough to be heard. “Destroy the core! Now!”

The human’s eyes darted quickly, uncertainly, between him and the ‘purple-yellow slime cell’, but then something in her face tightened and she nodded slightly, lifting the scythe once more. With a final scream, she plunged the blade deep into the heart of the core, sending sparks flying in every direction. The core convulsed and ruptured, exploding in a burst of acidic sap and goo. Both Hunter and the human rushed back, barely escaping the splash zone, but when Hunter turned back to look at their foe, all he found was a dry, blackened stalk that was crumbling to ash on the air.

The Witchtrap was dead.

Hunter patrolled the arena methodically, taking care to ensure he cleaned and returned each weapon to its proper holster or sheath on his person. Coven-regulation weapons were forged using the highest quality materials, after all, and were hardly cheap to produce or replace. He watched with half an eye, listened with half an ear, at the interactions taking place around him—as Clawthorne attempted to lecture the Owl Lady for using a Mars Witchtrap, of all illegal magical flora, and as the Owl Lady completely ignored her legitimate complaints to mock her sister for stooping to her level and cheating in the first place.

Gee, if only someone had warned them that using duplicity and subterfuge was a bad idea. Hunter rolled his eyes and reminded himself that while it would be intensely satisfying to remind the sisters that he had ultimately been correct in his ‘moral lectures’, it would not be worth the price of further alienating the Owl Lady or having to deal with Clawthorne’s waspish comments.

Even though he had told them so.

Smirking, he ran the hem of his shirt along the edge of his last throwing star, studying it a moment to ensure that no thin, filmy residue remained on the polished steel. Satisfied, he slipped it back into one of his hidden pockets and adjusted his course to lead him to the corner of the arena where the younger witches had gathered.

Park and Porter were seated on a bench, their faces pale and sweaty, but their exhaustion did nothing to diminish the gleam of triumphant in their eyes or silence their incessant chatter.

“We won! I can’t believe we actually won! Do you guys know how rare that is? They say Mars Witchtraps were one of the few inherently dangerous flora created to destroy witches. And we beat one!” Park gushed.

Porter flashed a teasing grin at the girl. “Created? I’d always heard that they grew from seeds scattered in the corrupted light of a fallen Star.”

“Gus, that’s just an old witch’s tale,” she giggled. “It makes more sense to think that someone intentionally created them than it does to think they just randomly appeared because a Star fell from the sky, doesn’t it?”

“Well, who created them then?”

“I don’t know! Maybe the Titan?”

“The Titan created the Mars Witchtrap to resist magic and eat witches?”

“Maybe he meant for it to eat wi—er, dangerous magic and didn’t know that it would target all witches.”

“I think both theories sound awesome!” The human interjected. She turned to the only witch who had remained silent throughout the conversation. “Amity, what do you think?”

Blight didn’t even twitch at the sound of her name. She sat on the edge of the bench, away from the others, her gaze trained on the crumpled power glyph in her hands.

“Amity? Are you ok?”

“I went into bile-drain.”

“Uh…”

“I could have died today. And for what? Just so you could humiliate me again? So you could make me look like an untried fool in front of the Emperor’s Coven?” She snapped her gaze up to the human, scowling deeply. “If it wasn’t for your mentor’s tricks none of this would have happened!”

“Hey! You can’t blame Luz for this! That’s not fair!” Porter defended.

“Yeah, besides nobody forced you to use the power glyph, Amity,” Park added, her voice only slightly hesitant. “You chose to do that on your own.”

“Because we knew she would cheat! And she did! What kind of psycho uses a Mars Witchtrap in a witch’s duel!”

“Eda thought she had a cure for it!”

“There is no cure for it! The only way to stop a Witchtrap is to kill it before it kills you! If it wasn’t for your pathetic friend—” She cut herself off, shifting her glower back to the glyph and wrapping her fingers tightly around the three darts still clenched in her fist.

Well, that was as good a cue as any. Hunter cleared his throat as he approached. Blight cringed slightly when she caught sight of him while the grins of the human and (strangely enough) the two witchlings only grew.

“Caleb!” The human cheered. “We totally crushed that weed!” She held out a hand, palm up. “I don’t suppose that’s enough of a reason for you to give me a celebratory high-five, huh?”

“Does your ‘high-five celebration’ involve physical contact?”

She snorted, making a vague gesture with her hand. “Only in like, the lightest possible definition of the phrase.”

“Then my answer is the lightest possible definition of ‘no’. Besides, I still have a bone to pick with you.”

“Me? What did I do?”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, pinning her with a scowl worthy of the Golden Guard staring down an errant rookie scout. “What kind of idiot chooses to throw their knife at the enemy when they know they only have one weapon at their disposal?”

The human’s smile turned sheepish. “I, uh, guess I really didn’t think about that. But it’s ok! I mean, you were right there and you’re, like, a walking arsenal so it’s not even really that big of a deal, right?”

“It absolutely is that big of a deal,” Hunter scolded. “What would you have done if I wasn’t there or if I had been incapacitated? Hell, you don’t even know how many weapons I brought along today. What if I didn’t have another one to give you? You can’t fight based off of impulsive actions and half-formulated plans, human! You need to think things through better! And never give up your weapon unless you know you have another method of defending yourself! Are we clear on that?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” she huffed. “Don’t go throwing knives at giant plant monsters, got it.”

“Human!”

“Ok!” She held out her hands defensively, as if trying to ward off his lecture. “Ok, I get it! Don’t throw my weapons at anybody unless I come up with a backup plan really quick!”

“I’d prefer it if you came up with a backup plan before engaging in ridiculous life-threatening stunts,” Hunter grumbled. “Or better yet, took the time to formulate a less risky strategy in the first place. But I’ve known you long enough to realize I need to temper my expectations.”

The human’s expression flattened, and she put one of her hands on her hips. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

Hunter held out a hand of his own. “It means I’ll take my scythe back now.”

Pursing her lips, the human reluctantly handed over the weapon, muttering under her breath in her native tongue all the while. Hunter ignored her antics, deactivating and contracting the scythe before making it vanish on his person. He turned to Blight. “And the darts. Please.”

Blight’s face pinched, but she didn’t meet his eyes as she passed them over. Hunter studied her for a moment before sighing and shifting his attention back to the projectiles, inspecting them for any nick or weakness or flaw. “You know, you weren’t half bad with these.”

“Really? It didn’t sound like you were all that impressed during the fight.”

“Well, obviously I’d rather not get drugged with my own paralytic,” Hunter retorted. “Especially during the middle of a battle. But if you work on improving your aim, you could probably do some real damage with these.” He raised an eyebrow. “Without nearly taking out any allied fighters in the process.”

Porter chuckled, earning him a slightly abashed glare from Blight. Her attention was pulled away from the shorter witch; however, when Hunter offered up the projectiles

a second time. She blinked, staring at him. “Why are you—the fight’s over. I don’t need them anymore.”

“Maybe you will someday.”

Blight frowned, tilting her head up and molding her expression into one of cool condescension—but somehow, when she spoke, she couldn’t quite capture the same sneering tone she’d used before. “I’m Top Student in the Abominations track at Hexside. I’m the protégé of the head of the Emperor’s Coven. I’m Amity Blight, daughter of Lady Odelia and Lord Alador Blight. I shouldn’t need a non-magical crutch to help me.”

“If that’s what you think weapons work is, you’ll never make it in the Emperor’s Coven,” Hunter stated bluntly. “Didn’t you see your beloved Head Witch also pulled out a mundane weapon when needed? And unlike you or the human, she was skilled with it. The Emperor’s Coven boasts the most powerful witches in the Boiling Isles, that’s true, but they don’t limit their knowledge of strategy and war to magical combat alone. Neither do they include or exclude witches or demons based solely on bile production or raw magical talent. If you’re strong, smart, and loyal, they want you by their side, but in spite of what certain others may lead you to believe, they are neither foolish nor elitest enough to pretend like there is only one kind of strength. If you want to be one u—one of them, you’re going to need to know more than just the conventional ways of battle.”

Blight’s mouth twisted slightly and her gaze flicked towards the human. “More than the conventional ways…Luz?”

“Huh?”

“If your mentor hadn’t insisted on cheating, how would you have fought me?”

“Oh.” Luz blinked, pulling out a small pad of paper and a pencil. She drew the light glyph on the page and tapped it. “I would have just used this.” She rubbed the back of her head, smiling tightly. “I know it probably wouldn’t have done much against your Abominations, but—”

“Humans aren’t supposed to be able to use any magic,” Blight breathed. She quickly masked the surprise on her face when she caught Park’s shy smile and Porter’s leering grin, but she couldn’t quite keep the wonder out of her voice as she continued, “I mean, it’s just a light spell. Even a baby can cast that. But still…”

“Yeah…” The human chuckled. “I can’t really cast magic like you all can, so I had to find my own way to do it. And with a little help from some friends,” she winked at Hunter, who immediately scowled.

“Let the record show I had nothing to do with this! I just told you our history; any two-bit demon on the street could have done the same.”

“—I re-discovered that other way,” she continued as if he hadn’t said a word. After a moment, however, her face fell and she sighed. “I should have just used the light glyph from the start. But I was scared that I’d have to stop training to be a witch and then Eda put her freedom on the line just to help me and before I knew it, this whole thing was spiraling out of control.”

“Yeah, well,” Blight muttered, staring down at the ball of light hovering over the human’s pad. “I don’t think any of us expected things would go this pear-shaped this quickly.” She bit her lip, her shoulders creeping toward her ears, the lines of her body snapping a little tighter than before. Suddenly, she took a sharp breath and grabbed the human’s hand, drawing a glowing pink spell circle around their arms. Their hands pulsed yellow as the circle splintered and broke around them, fading out piece by piece. “The oath is unbound,” she muttered, quickly releasing the human’s hand and snatching the darts from Hunter. “I’ll take these…and I will make it in the Emperor’s Coven. I’ll be one of the youngest witches ever to take the trial and pass. You’ll see.”

Hunter smirked. “I look forward to it.”

Blight eyed him for a second as she slowly rose to her feet. “You know…you’re not quite as pathetic as I initially thought,” she admitted, before brushing past all of them to exit the arena.

The human tilted her head as she stared after her. “Was that an apology?”

“Coming from Amity?” Park sighed. “It’s the closest thing you’re going to get.”

“So…what do we do now?” The human wondered.

An explosion echoed across the arena and Hunter glanced over his shoulder to find the very mature and imposing head of the Emperor’s Coven engaging in a dignified chest-pounding contest with the Owl Lady. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “We could always go watch those two morons kill each other.”

“I’m down,” Porter nodded, jumping off the bench.

“Hey, what about Eda’s bet with Lilly?” The human wondered as they began to walk over. “Please tell me I didn’t accidentally cause her to be indoctrinated into a Coven against her will!”

“Did you lose the duel with Blight?”

“Not exactly? It was kind of interrupted by the whole people-eating plant fiasco.”

“So, the terms and conditions of your bet were altered. You never finished your duel. Technically, the Oath never would have bound either of you until you did. Same for those two.”

The human sighed loudly. “Thank goodness.”

“Wait, so then why did Amity release Luz from the Oath?” Park wondered. “Does she not know that the bet is in limbo since neither of you finished the duel?”

Porter snorted. “Nah, she probably just didn’t want to run the risk of having to really apologize if her and Luz ever fight again.”

Hunter hummed vaguely, glancing back toward the exit. Porter’s theory was plausible, even likely given what he knew of Odelia’s youngest. But he had seen something in her eyes today—a hint of compassion that had always been ruthlessly smothered in the presence of courtiers and nobles and government officials, if it indeed had ever existed before. Perhaps there was more to this particular Blight than he had initially assumed.

Perhaps she was worth keeping an eye on as well.  

Chapter Text

Hunter glanced at the clock as he passed by the living room, frowning as he caught sight of the time: 7:04. A little less than two hours before his next shift at the castle officially began. Nodding to himself, he dropped the three dust-covered boxes among the large pile that he’d been building in the corner, before turning on his heel and marching back to the living room.

The Owl Lady didn’t so much as glance his way, her attention consumed by the Hexas Hold’em cards she was dealing out to her Palisman. The human, on the other hand, looked up at his approach, eagerly waving him forward. “Caleb, you’re just in time! Eda’s teaching us how to play old people games!”

“Hexas Hold’em is more than just a card game, Luz,” the Owl Lady retorted, picking up her own hand. “It’s the trickiest game on the Boiling Isles. You need to be quick, clever, and cunning if you want to be able to win.” The eyes on the back of her cards opened, shifting upwards signifying that the round had begun.

“So, you’re saying the bird actually has a chance, then?”

Now the Owl Lady’s eyes darted over to him, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “Alright, smart guy, I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Hexas Hold’em players in the entire region. I won the biannual championships two years in a row! Woulda been three if I hadn’t come down with a bad case of the common mold just before the last tournament.” She placed the red devil down on the table, causing Hunter to wince.

“Uh-huh. Hey regional champ, I wouldn’t play that if I were you. The witch in the moon can turn the red devil’s power back on—”

The Owl Lady snorted. “No offense, Blondie, but I think I know what I’m doing.”

Hunter rolled his eyes and held up his hands, taking a step back as golden lightning flashed over both sets of cards, causing them to sprout legs and fangs, charging at each other with shrill screams. The Palisman’s set began to press forward, routing the Owl Lady’s, and as Hunter had predicted, the witch in the moon card glowed with amber light as the red devil attacked, causing her card to vanish in a puff of smoke.

The human gasped, but her mentor only smirked, pulling another card from her hand. “Watch closely, Luz. When it looks like the deck is stacked against you, that’s when you need to break out…the wild card!” She held up a piece depicting a tower under a crimson sky. The card glowed green and, in a flash, each of the Palisman’s cards erupted into flame. The flames spun a twirled, writhing through the air until they converged to form the words: WINNER: EDA in the air above the table. Then, they also vanished, leaving behind the faintest scent of ash and sulfur.

The Palisman narrowed its eyes, flapping onto the table and hooting a complaint that the Owl Lady used the wild card to win every single time they played. Not that its wielder seemed to care one way or the other, once again showing her great humility by letting a raucous cheer and taunting her opponent. “Yes, I win! In your adorable owl face!”

“Some champion,” Hunter scoffed. “It doesn’t count if you have to keep using the wild card to win every single time.”

The Owl Lady froze, interrupting her self-adulation to squint suspiciously at him. “…How’d you know I favor the wild card gambit? I’m pretty sure this is the first time you’ve seen me play.”

Hunter’s eyes widened and he inwardly cursed his carelessness. How could he let that slip? Meanwhile, the human leaned forward eagerly, her eyes taking on a peculiar shine. “Oooh, dra-maaa. Caleb, have you been spying on Eda?”

“What? No. Like I don’t have anything better to do with my time than lurk around watching her play some stupid card game.” Hunter shook his head. Honestly, where did the human even get these ideas?

“Well, then how did you know she likes to use the wild card thing?” She gasped as a thought seemed to occur to her, leaning even further as she waved one hand erratically through the air. “Do you have, like, a secret, special power that lets you know really random facts about people like what their favorite pastry is and how they win at cards and if they have a really embarrassing middle name?”

Hunter had no heartbeat to speak of, but the energy that traversed his veins and arteries still rushed faster, until it practically buzzed beneath his skin. The human leered at him, a wide, eager smile splitting her face in two as she stretched her body even farther. Some small distant part of Hunter was frankly amazed that she hadn’t fallen off the couch yet, especially with the wild, empty gestures she kept weaving through the air.

The larger, more immediate part was much more concerned with the dangerous turn this conversation had taken. Time to redirect. Hunter crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he tried to think of a way out of this increasingly bizarre interrogation. “I don’t have any weird powers,” he scoffed. “I’m bile void, remember? But even if I did, what kind of power even is that? Knowing people’s favorite pastries? That’s the sort of ability you’d use for a party trick or to impress a childhood crush, not for anything useful.”

“But it’d still be cool, right?” The human countered, now fully leaning on the armrest of the couch. She waved her hands dramatically, her voice lowering into a mockingly ominous tone. “The mysterious Caleb, wielder of the All-Knowing Pastry Sense. Beware his uncanny ability to uncover all your sugary secrets!”

The Owl Lady barked out a laugh, slapping the table. “I’d believe it. He’s got that whole broody know-it-all thing going. Just add pastries and voilà, a perfect storm of weirdness.”

Hunter groaned, running a hand down his face. “Can we not? I don’t even like sweets.”

“Not even chocolate?” The human gasped, clutching her chest as if he’d personally offended her.

The Owl Lady tilted her head down, smirking. “You’ve just confirmed there’s something suspicious about you, kid. Only a spy—or someone with a tragic lack of taste—would say something like that.”

“I’m not a spy!” Hunter snapped, his voice rising an octave as his patience frayed. “I just—oh, nevermind.” He cut himself off with a huff, very much aware that it didn’t matter what excuse he gave. There would be no digging himself out of this inane conversation—not when these two were this determined to get a rise out of him. He glanced at the clock again, as much to avoid the irritating amusement in their eyes as it was to check the time. The castle was hardly a stone’s throw from Bonesborough, especially on foot. He really should get going if he wanted to make it back in time for night patrol.

And if the completion of his duties also allowed him to escape the Owl Lady’s childish taunts and the human’s ridiculous antics, so be it.

“If you’re both done mocking me, I really need to be getting home. And since it is Fearsday, Owl Lady,” he held out a hand. “That means it’s time for you to pay up.”

The Owl Lady glanced at the clock, letting out a low whistle as she marked the time. “Shi—ooot, that late, huh? Yeah, you better get going, Blondie. Even spies need their beauty sleep,” she laughed, winking at him. Hunter clenched his jaw and wished it wasn’t quite so important to keep up the appearance of a scraggily teenager in need of a part-time job.

But when the Owl Lady walked around the table to hand him his snails, feathers floated to the ground in her wake. Her skin shifted before his eyes, changing from flesh to plumage as small, dark grey—almost black—quills began to curl up from her arms and shoulders. Her hair—a veritable vole-rat’s nest at the best of times—grew thicker and courser with each step she took and the smallest tinge of black touched the amber stone she wore around her neck. And Hunter wasn’t the only one to notice.

“Um, Eda? It’s happening again!”

The Owl Lady glanced at her apprentice. “What’s happening again?”

“Your curse is returning!”

The Owl Lady winced as she peered into the scorpion-spider web-covered chest. “Ok, that’s not good,” she muttered as she lifted one of the dusty vials. But it didn’t matter how much she tilted and turned the bottle; not a single drop of elixir caught the light.

“You’re out?” The human screeched. “How can you be out?! The last time that happened you turned into this!” She thrust her low-tech scroll forward, the cracked screen depicting the image of a hideous beast snarling with malice as her dark eyes gleamed hungrily in the camera light.

The Owl Lady let out an approving whistle. “Dang, I look fierce.”

“Eda!”

“Calm down, Luz. Everything is going to be fine, I promise.”

Hunter scoffed, crossing his arms. “Bold words from someone who let their ‘secret stash’ run out. Remind me, what good is having a reserve that even the rat didn’t know about if you don’t bother making sure that reserve is fully stocked when you need it?”

“Hush, Caleb. No one likes a wise guy.”

The human held up a finger, her expression taut. “Um, people also don’t really like it that much when the Owl Beast comes out to play. Just fyi.”

“The Owl Beast isn’t coming out.” She placed a hand on the human’s shoulder. “Trust me, I’m not gonna let tall, fierce, and feathery anywhere near you or King again, Luz.”

The human glanced over at Hunter. “What about Caleb?”

“Him I’m still undecided on.”

“Eda!”

The Owl Lady held up her hands, a small smile stretching across her face. “Kidding, I’m kidding. Look, as annoying as he might be,” she flashed Hunter a taunting smirk, wiggling her eyebrows playfully. “I don’t actually want to see him get hurt, either. After all, it would be such a shame to deprive the world of his unique gifts, don’t you think?”

“Don’t start that again,” Hunter groaned. “I told you; pastry sense isn’t a thing.”

The Owl Lady smirked. “Yeah, but I notice you never denied being able to ferret out embarrassing middle names. Is that skill still on the table, Mr. Spy?”

Hunter opened his mouth, ready to fire off a retort of his own, only to pause when the human giggled. It was a tight, nervous sound, much more restrained than her normal full-bodied laughter, but it chased away some of the fear in her eyes and when she turned to face him, the lines of her body had softened slightly.

Damn the Owl Lady and her ability to the human at ease by saying the most idiotic things. And for that matter, damn the human for being put at ease by her foolish ramblings. And damn him most of all for going along with it.

“It could be,” Hunter ground out, causing the Owl Lady to blink in surprise and the human to gasp slightly, some of her concern fading away under relentless curiosity.

“Wait, you’re actually admitting to it?”

“I’m not admitting to anything. I’m just saying I’ve never tested it before.”

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” the Owl Lady cackled, placing her hands on her hips as she stared him down. “What do you think my middle name is? C’mon, Blondie, give me your best shot.”

Hunter studied her for a moment before his lips curled into a smirk. She wanted to screw with him under the guise of setting the human at ease? Well, fine. Two could play that game. “Beulah.”

The human burst into peals of laughter while the Owl Lady gaped at him, her posture flopping from challenging to flabbergasted in a heartbeat. The human side-eyed her mentor as she waited for her laughter to subside enough to ask, “is it really?”

“No!” The Owl Lady spluttered, her face a satisfying mix of incredulity and indignation.

“Oh, darn. Well, I guess I can’t identify peoples’ middle names after all.”

That only renewed the human’s laughter and she raised a hand, wiping at the tears that had started to spill from her eyes. “I think…you’ve got a bright future as a comedian, Caleb,” she wheezed.

Hunter snorted. A comedian? Not even in some alternate reality where Belos wasn’t Emperor and he was no longer Golden Guard and had to find a civilian job to keep food on the table, thank you very much. Still, he couldn’t help the spike of vindication he felt when the Owl Lady groaned, frowning playfully at her apprentice. “Great, Luz, now Blondie’s gonna start thinking he’s actually funny.”

“Excuse you, I’m hilarious,” Hunter deadpanned. “You just have a below-average interpretation of what should be classified as ‘funny’.”

“Wha—I do not!”

“Last week you pulled out a human fake flatulence bag—”

“Whoopie cushion,” the human cut in, still snickering under her breath.

“—And cackled for an hour after the furball accidently sat on it.”

 The Owl Lady crossed her arms, putting on an exaggerated air of dignity. “I'll have you know, Blondie, it's a classic piece of human comedic innovation. Art, even.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, but try as he might, he couldn’t suppress the tiny, amused smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, sure. I’ll be certain to add ‘appreciating whoopie cushions’ to my list of cultural enlightenment.” And then, because the human’s shoulders were finally free of tension and her face no longer pinched in fear and because someone clearly had to get these hooligans back on track, he added in a more serious tone, “in the meantime, what are we going to about our little owl problem?”

The Owl Lady sobered and the last of human’s laughter died out as the gravity of the situation once again fell upon the room. After a moment, the Owl Lady sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “The thing is Morton—he’s the resident cure-crafter in town—he’s all out of this potion until he can get more ingredients next week.”

“Can you last that long?” The human questioned, flinching slightly when another plume of feathers exploded from the top of her mentor’s head.

“No,” the Owl Lady admitted with a grimace. “But what I can do is head to the Night Market and get more. There’s a seller there who deals in…let’s say liberated items—”

Stolen goods, Hunter translated, but he remained silent, letting the Owl Lady talk.

“—word on the street is, he might have an extra bottle or two of my cure floating around.”

“Great!” The human cheered, turning toward the door. “Let’s go to this Night Market and get every last bottle he has!”

“Hold it!” The Owl Lady reached out, snagging the human by the back of her hoodie and pulling her to a stop. “Luz, the Night Market is a dangerous place. It’s filled with the worst kinds of low-lives and degenerates in the Boiling Isles—and that’s coming from someone like me. I don’t want you going anywhere near it.”

The human frowned and, honestly at this point, Hunter wasn’t even surprised by the objection that fell from her mouth. “But Eda! If it’s that dangerous, then it’s too dangerous for you to go alone! What if someone ambushes you or you get hurt?” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You can’t exactly cast spells if you’re sprouting feathers every two seconds!”

“I know,” the Owl Lady sighed. “That’s why I won’t be going alone. Caleb and King will be coming with me.”

The human’s eyes widened, and Hunter couldn’t help but feel the same shock. “They will?” 

“I will?”

The Owl Lady nodded, glancing at Hunter. “Much as I hate to admit it, I’m going to need another pair of hands out there in case things get ugly. You’ve proven you know how to not die often enough by now, so provided you don’t crow up your recruitment officer and have him send a bunch of scouts after us to arrest everybody in the whole place…”

“Deal,” Hunter agreed immediately. While part of him rankled at the idea of letting dangerous convicts and wild witches roam free, he knew it was a necessary, and temporary, sacrifice. The Night Market could only be found by those who had already walked its streets once before. If the Owl Lady granted him admission once, he could always find it again and bring the trash slugs to justice in his own time. But right now, it was more important than ever that he continue to play his part—especially if it meant finally getting his hands on the elixir.

The Owl Lady stared at him, her gaze unusually serious. “You promise? I don’t want to have to end up fighting my way through hundreds of scout companies while trying to keep the Owl Beast locked up, just because you wanted to get some brownie points with your drill sergeant or whatever.”

“If I was going to turn you in, don’t you think I would have done it before now?” Hunter pointed out. “Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you get hurt, either.” Not the whole truth, not nearly, but…it wasn’t as much of a lie as it probably should have been, either.

Best not to dwell on that too much, Hunter quickly decided. After all, there were much more important matters at hand. Like the human pouting and whining.

“Ok, seriously? I mean, Caleb I get because he’s all…” she made a fist and turned it sidewise, miming a warrior stabbing and slashing. Hunter’s lips twitched; her stance wasn’t as poor as it had been the first time she challenged that deranged puppeteer Adagast. The human was learning. “Ah, hah, bayoh, eat metal sucka!”

Then again, maybe not.

“But why does King get to go? He’s even littler than me and he can’t fight at all!”

“King’s coming because I need another pair of eyes to keep a look out for pickpockets, not to mention another pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Hunter drawled.

The Owl Lady clucked her tongue at him, shooting what the human called ‘finger-guns’ in his direction. As near as he’d been able to infer, it was meant to convey approval.

“I can totally help you with that! In fact, I can probably help even more since my arms are bigger. I can carry more stuff!”

“Tempting, but no.”

The human groaned, her face falling, and the Owl Lady gestured around them. “You know how many magical doodads and sto—I mean, liberated thingamabobs I’ve got lying around here?”

“No?”

“Me either! But it’s probably a lot!” She slung her arm around the human’s shoulders, drawing her close. “I need someone to stick around and make sure no two-bit wannabe thief tries to steal my stuff. You know I like King, but c’mon kid. Do you really think he’d be able to put up much of a fight if some yutz tried to break into my house?”

The human sighed. “I guess not.”

“Exactly! But you? Whoa-ho-ho-ho. I know I don’t have to worry about anyone getting in here with Luz Noceda: Witch’s Apprentice standing guard.”

“I know what you’re doing, you know,” the human groused, but there was a glimmer of laughter behind her eyes.

The Owl Lady grinned toothily. “See what I’m talking about? Nothing gets past you! And tell you what.” She drew a small spell circle. “I’ll even let you borrow my scroll while I’m gone. You could play a bunch of cool witch games or watch some videos on BooTube or even call up those two friends of yours. What were their names? Whimsy and Goops?”

“That’s Willow and Gus, Eda.” She glanced at the device, groaning again before reaching out to take it. “Fiiiinnneee. I guess if you won’t let me come with you to the Night Market.” She frowned suddenly, pinning the wild witch with a serious expression. “But you have to promise you’ll be careful.” She turned her stare to Hunter. “And that you’ll look after each other, ok?”

“This is apparently why I’m going,” Hunter reminded her, but he still nodded solemnly, nonetheless.

The Owl Lady ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry so much, kid. We’ll be back before you know it; you’ll see. In the meantime, lock up tight, don’t open the door for strangers, and try and keep Hooty from wandering the forest after midnight. He’s been pellet-trapping the local wildlife and if I get one more angry letter from the Enchanted Forest-Dwellers Association…”

“Lock the doors, stay inside, distract Hooty. Got it.”

“That’s my girl. See you in a few hours, Luz. Hey King! Get your fluffy tail in here, we’re going shopping!”

The rat’s voice echoed from the next room, muffled but unmistakably exasperated. “Shopping? You mean I get to carry all the stuff you’re gonna get with your five-finger discount, don’t you?”

The Owl Lady cackled in response as the tiny furball waddled into view, his usual air of faux regality replaced by what could only be described as resignation. “Come on, King. You’re the King of Demons! Surely a few knickknacks and trinkets won’t bring you down,” she teased, ruffling his fur.

The rat puffed out his chest, clearly attempting to reclaim whatever small sense of dignity he thought he had. “Hmph! I agree to this under protest. But don’t think for a second I’ll let you call it ‘helping.’ This is a royal decree of...temporary cooperation!”

The human couldn’t hold back her laughter, which only seemed to embolden the little gremlin further. “You better bring me back something cool, like, I dunno, some winged shoes or a scepter or—ooh, a magical cheese wheel!”

The Owl Lady tapped her chin thoughtfully, pretending to give the suggestion serious consideration. “Cheese wheel, huh? You might be on to something there. I hear the enchanted gouda from the Night Market is to die for.”

“Perfect!” The furball declared, already envisioning his spoils.

The human shook her head, a fond smile on her face. “Don’t let her distract you too much, King. And remember, I’m holding you both to that promise.”

The Owl Lady saluted with exaggerated flair. “Scout’s honor, kid. We’ll be back soon, and maybe we’ll even bring you something fun. Now don’t forget: no wild parties while we’re gone!”

“Wait, that was an option?!”

“Not anymore! Bye!” Without another word, the Owl Lady pulled on her traveling cloak and swept out the door, the old, tattered fabric billowing dramatically behind her. The rat scurried in her footsteps, muttering something about how he’d better not be stuck carrying any smelly herbs again. Hunter hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the human.

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “We’ll be careful. I promise.”

She gave him a small but confident smile before shooing him out the door. “I know you will. Now go before Eda leaves you behind.”

Hunter winced. Considering all that he had gone through to secure an invitation in the first place, that would be…disappointing to say the least. With a quick nod to the human, he darted towards the door, barely remembering to glance at the clock on his way out.

7:26. He had a little over an hour and a half to infiltrate the Night Market, get the potion, and get back to the castle in time for his shift. Depending on where the Night Market had popped up in relation to the castle, this could very well be within the realm of possibility…assuming everything went exactly, perfectly according to plan.

 Unfortunately for Hunter, he was currently traveling in the company of the most chaotic witch on the Boiling Isles and her equally unruly pet. He had no doubt that their presence alone would somehow manage to thwart even the most scrupulous of his schemes.

He just didn’t know how.

Chapter Text

Hunter waded through a shallow stream, careful not to lose his footing as he crossed the mud-slick banks. Up ahead, the Owl Lady and the furball strolled boldly through the forest, the former brushing aside dense foliage and thick tree limbs with a wave of her hand while the latter tripped over stones and whined endlessly about fire-flies spitting streams of flame into his face or creeping vines tangling in his fur.

Frankly, Hunter had no clue why the Owl Lady had decided to bring this idiot along. He heard the excuse she’d given to the human, and he had no doubt she definitely intended to leave the Night Market with more than just the potions she needed to keep the Owl Beast at bay, but he also knew that she was more than capable of stuffing any ill-gotten gains within the ‘hidden’ pockets of her own cloak or—more likely—the thick, matted mane of hair atop her head. Why bother dragging the little gremlin along when he was clearly more of a burden than an advantage?

For that matter, why did she bother dragging Hunter along? He wasn’t an idiot. Hunter was well aware of what he’d given up when he chose to oppose the Owl Lady’s deceitful ‘strategy’ during the witch’s duel. She tolerated him well enough on a daily basis, sure, and maybe there were even some moments when the two of them could set aside their differences and opposing philosophies and unite to achieve a common goal, like they had to assuage the human’s fears. But Hunter was under no illusion that their temporary alliances and occasionally net-positive social interactions meant that she in any way trusted him. Why would she? He was a pro-coven law-abiding citizen…or as she liked to say, ‘a goody-two-boots know-it-all little brat’. Their relationship had always been completely transactional: she needed an assistant to do all the menial labor and leg-work for her legitimate business that she was too lazy to bother with and he (insofar as she knew) needed a part-time job to help an ambiguous and rarely-discussed guardian-figure pay the bills. Trust had never been a factor, one way or the other.

So then why had she invited him to accompany her to the Night Market? Yes, ok, she needed backup and out of all the current residents and visitors in the house, he was the most capable. But potential skillsets aside, she had no reason to believe he would remain loyal to her after uncovering the whereabouts of one of the most crime-ridden cesspools in the Isles. She hadn’t even asked for an Everlasting Oath, for crying out loud, just accepted him at his word when he said he wouldn’t summon an entire garrison of scouts down on their heads. Hunter knew several Coven Heads who wouldn’t have such faith in the Golden Guard, much less some random kid they met in the streets and knew next to nothing about.

So why had she?

Hunter was so distracted by her unprecedented behavior that he almost missed it when she paused at the forest’s edge. Not the boundary that would gradually lead into Boneborough, but the other, less traversed path that the human had taken the day she had set out on Adagast’s fabricated quest. He approached the Owl Lady, raising an eyebrow as he stared past the edge of the cliff. The village that the false wizard had created was long gone, replaced with a barren valley of crumbling stone. “This is where we’ll find the Night Market?”

“Tonight, yeah.” The Owl Lady stared at him, her expression somber. “Tomorrow, who knows? That’s the thing about it, Blondie. The Night Market is ever moving, ever changing. One day it’s in a back alleyway in Latissa, the next you’ll find it in the shadow of the Titan’s Skull. Even those of us who have a…let’s say a ticket for entry…don’t always know when or where it’s going to show up next. And if you’re still in the Night Market when it disappears at sunrise…well, people say you’ll disappear with it.”

“And go where?” The rat squeaked.

“To the place from whence all shadows came.”

The furball gasped, pressing closer to the Owl Lady, one paw fiddling nervously with the hem of her traveling cloak.

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Is this really the most appropriate time for ghost stories?”

“Y-yeah. Quit trying to scare us, Eda!”

The Owl Lady grinned, but it was tighter than usual, restrained in a way Hunter hadn’t known she was capable of. “I’m not trying to scare you; I’m just trying to warn you. The Night Market is more dangerous than you know.” She slipped her hand into the rat’s, who grumbled and muttered and quietly pretended like he wasn’t clutching on with both hands. “Our best chance of making it out before sunrise is to stick together.”

Hunter blinked, studying the taller witch. That sounded a lot like the beginning of one of the human’s friendship speeches. In fact, this entire conversation sounded more and more like a page from a child’s scarytale than it did an actual warning. So much so that Hunter was sore tempted to brush off the Owl Lady’s words altogether. After all, inviting them both out to the edge of the woods just to frighten them before taking them into the Market was the kind of short-sighted, childish prank he had come to expect from the Owl Lady.

Except…

He could see the feathers on her arms growing thicker with each passing minute. Prank or no, the curse was real. The fact that she hadn’t wanted the human to come to Night Market was real. The way she gripped the rat’s paw and the way her other hand twitched and jerked, as if she wanted to reach for his hand, too…that was real.

Hunter narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t buying the whole ‘disappear into the shadows’ thing for a second, but there was clearly more to the Night Market than even he had known. And now, facing the very real nervousness in the Owl Lady’s eyes, he couldn’t help but wander again: why had the Owl Lady invited him to such a ‘dangerous’ place?

Just what did she hope to gain by bringing him here?

Luz sighed as she scrolled—ha, get it? Because it’s a scroll? Witch-tech pun! Good one, Luz—through the apps Eda had downloaded. “Hexas Hold’em….Hexas Hold’em Casino…ooh, Holo-Hexes?” She clicked the small circle with the laughing skull, only to frown when a mini hologram of Eda appeared, waving her hand and setting out five Hexas Hold’em in the space between her and Luz. “Is this just a way for her to play Hexas Hold’em against herself? I thought it was going to be a fantasy roleplaying game where you get to cast magic spells and fight dragons! C’mon, Eda, don’t you have anything on here besides card games?” She peered at the hologram of her mentor, who just shrugged before sitting cross-legged on the air and summoning five more hologram cards. As the two sets fought, Luz sighed, leaning back onto the couch. “I can’t believe Eda left me behind. I bet no one is even gonna break in tonight! She totally just made the whole thing up to convince me to stay here!”

Mini-Eda shrugged again, her attention wholly consumed by the battle being waged on the coffee table.

“I mean, I guess I kinda went along with it—but it’s not my fault she’s so persuasive!” Luz threw her hands up in the air, relishing in the dramatic-ness of the gesture. “Besides, I thought the coolest witch on the Boiling Isles would have way cooler games on her scroll than just a million different ways to play ‘Solitaire with Teeth’.” She sunk back down into the cushions, pouting as she stared at the holograms. The set of cards furthest away from Mini-Eda burst into flames, thanks again to the Wild Card, and Mini-Eda soared into the air, pumping her fist and doing a backflip as she spun around. Luz giggled in spite of herself. “I guess you are pretty cute,” she allowed. “You kinda remind me of one of Gus’s illusi—” She gasped, sitting up fast enough to bang her knees against the table and snatching Eda’s scroll from where it had bounced harmlessly to the floor. “Gus and Willow! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner! Eda said something about being able to talk to them on some kinda website. Penstagram, I think.” She scanned the scroll for the app that would allow her to talk to two of her bestest friends.

Mini-Eda floated over her shoulder, studying the scroll for a second before reaching out to push against the screen with both hands. A purple-pink-blue symbol of a pen surrounded by a swirl of golden magic flashed over the screen and Luz grinned, reaching out to pat Mini-Eda gently on the head. “Aw, thanks, little guy.”

Mini-Eda flashed her a thumbs up and floated back to the table, waving her hand as she summoned another set of cards into being. A quick search brought Luz to her friends’ profiles, and she shot them both a quick message, explaining that she had borrowed Eda’s scroll and wondering if one of them could create a group chat so they could all text together. Not a minute later the group chat ‘Triple Threat’ had been created.

RazzleSnazzle: Luz! I didnt know you had Pensta!

BADGIRLCOVEN: I dont rlly

Eda let me borrow her scroll for the night while Im house-demon sitting

RazzleSnazzle: Wait so youre home alone??

BADGIRLCOVEN: Ya why?

RazzleSnazzle:  >:3

Hello_Willow: Gus…

RazzleSnazzle:  Aw c’mon Willow theres no harm in asking, right

BADGIRLCOVEN: Ask me what?

Hello_Willow: Luz said Eda isn’t there

She probably wouldnt want people coming over to her house without her knowing about it

BADGIRLCOVEN: You guys wanna come over? That would be awesome lets do it!

RazzleSnazzle: Yes

Hello_Willow: No

RazzleSnazzle: Sorta

BADGIRLCOVEN: I am so bored rn

Wait

Im confused. *Do* you guys wanna come over? Or not??

…

…

Willow?

Hello_Willow: I dont want to get you in trouble Luz

Especially just because Amity’s being a witch

BADGIRLCOVEN: Um but she is a witch though??? And so are you and Gus???

Hello_Willow: lol not that kind of witch Luz

RazzleSnazzle: lol the b-word kind

Hello_Willow: Gus!

RazzleSnazzle: I didnt say it!

I implied it

But I didn’t say it

BADGIRLCOVEN: Ok wait back up

Im still confused

What did Amity do??

I thought we were all cool after the whole deadly plant thing

Hello_Willow: She invited everyone to a moonlight conjuring at her place except for me and Gus

RazzleSnazzle: She even posted about it on her pensta! ‘No dorks allowed’!!!

😡 😡

BADGIRLCOVEN: What!!!

That is *so* not cool!!!

How dare she hurt my babies like that!!!

Uh…

What’s a moonlight conjuring??

Hello_Willow: lol Luz

You spend the night at someone’s house

Telling stories playing games

BADGIRLCOVEN: Like a slumber party!!! We have those

Hello_Willow: Then you bring something to life with moon magic!

BADGIRLCOVEN:

…

Like a weird slumber party!!!

Hello_Willow: Gus and I have never been to one, tho

You need at least 3 ppl and

Well

BADGIRLCOVEN: Im 3 ppl!!!

I mean were 3 ppl

We can totally have our own conjuring!!!

RazzleSnazzle: Yes!!!

Time to cross another thing off my bucket list!!

I’ll go ask my dad! Brb!

Hello_Willow: I dunno Luz

I mean I appreciate it and all

But are you sure Eda will be ok with it

Luz glanced at Mini-Eda, her brow furrowing. The tiny hologram was doing a one-person wave as she danced under the words WINNER: HOLO-EDA, only to pause when she noticed Luz staring at her. The miniature copy of her mentor floated back over to the couch, hovering as she read over Luz’s shoulder. Luz bit her lip. “I—I shouldn’t, right? I mean, obviously I shouldn’t. Eda left me here alone because she trusts me. I don’t want to let her down.” Her gaze fell back to the scroll. “But Gus and Willow sound so excited…well, Gus does anyway. And I wasn’t kidding about being super bored,” she grinned at Mini-Eda. “I have no idea how you can even want to play the same game so many times. I’m starting to think you might have a problem.”

Mini-Eda stuck her tongue out, before gesturing at the scroll and using two of her fingers to mimic a pair of feet walking along a path. Luz tilted her head. “You…think I should invite them over anyway? But Eda said—” Luz’s eyes widened as she thought back to the real witch’s instructions. “—to not have any wild parties. But this isn’t a wild party, is it?” She met the hologram’s eyes and Mini-Eda flashed her a grin worthy of the Owl Lady herself. “It’s just a weird slumber party. Just three pals getting together for a totally calm, peaceful night of games and stories and using moon magic to bring inanimate objects to life. And hey! Who says it even has to be a whole night anyway? We can totally just spend a few hours doing a moonlight conjuring and then Willow and Gus can go back home before the others even get back! I mean at that point it’s basically more of a friendly visit than a slumber party anyway! Eda will never even know the difference!”

Mini-Eda nodded eagerly, tugging on Luz’s sleeve and gesturing impatiently at the scroll. Luz laughed. “Ok, ok, hold your Hexas Hold’em cards. I’ll ask.”

BADGIRLCOVEN: Forget about Eda for a second, Willow. What do you want to do?

Hello_Willow: Me? Idk, I mean…

I know I should just ignore Amity and Boscha and be the bigger witch

That’s what my dads say anyway

BADGIRLCOVEN: And that’s great! But I didn’t ask what *they* want you to do. I asked what *you* want to do

Hello_Willow: …

I want to go to a moonlight conjuring with my friends

BADGIRLCOVEN: Then a moonlight conjuring we shall have!!

And don’t worry Im sure Eda will be fine with it

Hello_Willow: Seriously? Thanks, Luz! Youre the best human friend a witch could ask for!

BADGIRLCOVEN: As long as we don’t touch anything or make a mess or ever bring up that we did it

Hello_Willow: Wait what?

Hunter let his gaze roam freely over the shadowed corners of the Night Market. Though fire and fey light both were in abundance, a dark miasma hung in the air, clinging to tattered posters and pooling between the cracks of splintered stone and rotting boards. Demons and witches scurried passed, some scuffing their shoes against the cracked cobblestones in a way that seemed to echo through the air, reverberating off half-built booths and crumbling walls. Others slithered by silently, a flash of movement in the corner of his eye the only proof Hunter had as to their presence here.

He inhaled quickly, shallowly, trying not to choke on the stench lingering all around them. For once, it wasn’t the rat that agitated his senses—this place reeked of death and with every step he took, Hunter could feel his skin pricking, crawling, as a cold, icy sensation ghosted over his lower arms and face.

The rat whimpered, clutching the Owl Lady even tighter and she stumbled, nearly tripping over him in the dark. “Careful King. I still need to walk here.”

 The gremlin squeaked in reply, flinching as they passed a booth selling—stars above were those actual severed hands? Hunter swallowed back a wave of disgust and bile as the rat’s hackles began to rise. He turned, burying his skull against the Owl Lady’s dress and the woman sighed, letting go of his hand to cup the back of his head gently. “I know, squirt. I know. This is why I never invited you along before. Unfortunately, my curse isn’t the only one that’s been getting stronger recently. The Night Market’s has too.” She frowned, rubbing a random pattern into the back of his skull. Hunter turned away, sternly reminding himself he was here to get the elixir and safeguard the travelers against those who would seek to harm then, not eavesdrop on meaningless conversations. He flicked his ears forward, trying to focus more on the scraping footfalls and hissing whispers around him, but others were too close and despite his best attempts, their voices still carried. “If there was any other way…but there isn’t. I need you here, King. You and Caleb both. I promise I’ll do everything I can to make sure we get the potion and get out whole, but until then, I need you to be the brave King of Demons I know you are. Can you do that for me?”  

Hunter frowned as he scanned the way ahead. Something felt off about the Owl Lady’s word choice. There was an implication in her reassurance that made Hunter tense, that set his teeth on edge. Just what did she mean by whole? Did she have reason to expect an assault greater than they could prepare for? Did she not think they were going to make it back in one piece? Or was something more sinister at work?

The mist swirled lower, draping over his skin like well-worn cloak. The chill was nothing compared to the mountain trial or even the migraine-empowered ice scream brain-freeze he’d weathered during Covention, but a shiver raced down Hunter’s spine nonetheless, his lungs beginning to sting as he drew the darkness into himself.

“I can try,” the gremlin whimpered. “But I don’t like it here Eda. It feels…wrong.”

“I know. Here, maybe…” she paused and Hunter barely caught the flash of a spell circle out of the corner of his eye. He turned back in time to see the rough, uneven lines of the circle fade away as beads of sweat slowly dripped off the side of the Owl Lady’s face.

Another burst of plumage exploded from her wrist.

She grimaced, but quickly forced her expression into a tight smile, holding out the pink infant sling as a peace offering. “You can ride in this. That way you don’t have to see anything upsetting and I can walk without tripping over you every five seconds.” She hesitated and Hunter’s ear twitched as she muttered, “you should still be close enough for it to work.”

For what to work? Hunter wanted to challenge, to demand, to sneer. Just what are you using us for? Before he could get the words out; however, a shadow loomed over him—one much more natural than the dark fog that had burrowed its way into every crevice in this accursed place. All three of them glanced up to find a behemoth of a demon staring them down, his dark eyes trailing over slowly over Hunter and even more slowly over the rat, lingering in ways that felt oddly invasive.

The Owl Lady wrapped one arm around the furball, pressing him even closer to her side as her smile turned sharp. “Anything we can help you with, pal?”

The demon flicked his gaze over to the Owl Lady. “They yours?” He rumbled.

She took a step forward, eyes hard despite the wide smile still stretching over her face. “Yeah, what of it?”

Hunter started slightly, ears flicking back in surprise and suspicion. The rat he could understand, but what cause did she have to claim him? And why do it so fiercely?

The demon grunted, pointing off to the left, past shadowed booths and layers of coiling mist. “Go that way and you’ll find Grimhammer. He’ll give you a good price.”

The Owl Lady’s gaze turned even flintier, but Hunter barely took notice because with those two sentences suddenly all his questions had been answered. This demon? He was a bounty hunter, a speck of Titan-born shit who made a living by capturing wild beasts or kidnapping demons and witches to sell to a handler, who would in turn pass them off to a pre-determined buyer or, if there was no such contract already in place, auction them off to the highest bidder. And as for the Owl Lady, it was clear now that she had never needed him for protection, nor had she brought him along out of any peculiar sense of trust. She had made him promise not to inform his company so that she would be free to carry out her dark deeds without resistance. She had taunted them with ghost stories and scarytales so that the rat would cling to her for reassurance, so Hunter would be too distracted to see what she was doing until it was too late. She had brought them to stand as payment against a sadist who dealt not in snails or objects, but in lives…in people. With every word, with every action, she had lied and cheated and conned her way into getting exactly what she wanted. She played them—played him—like a game of Hexas Hold’em, and Hunter had fallen for her tricks just as surely as her Palisman had.

A wild witch made one hell of Wild Card, after all.