by R. L. Perez
“Stay safe,” I told her.
She just nodded, still not looking at me.
Then, I faced Luke and took a deep breath. “What will happen to you?”
“Benny set me up with a coven of Thinkers in New York. They offered me shelter and will monitor my mind to ensure nothing—nothing happens.”
“What will happen to my body?” I asked uncertainly, imagining a lifeless version of myself collapsing on the floor.
“My mind will absorb you,” Luke said. “All of you. Your mind, your body—everything.”
My face twisted with a grimace. “Will you—I mean, will it hurt? To have me and all this magic trapped in there?”
Luke smiled and shook his head. “With our bond, it’ll be easy. A little heavy, but definitely doable.”
My hands started shaking, so I focused on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale.
Then, Gwen was there, her hands outstretched. In her palm was the amulet wrapped in cloth. Gingerly, I grasped the corners of the cloth, careful not to touch the amulet, and tucked it in my hands.
“You all be careful,” I said to the room at large. “Quentin is smarter than you think.” I paused. “And . . . please watch out for Cora. Even if you don’t like her. She doesn’t have many people to watch her back.”
Gwen’s lips tightened, and Jocelyn’s nostrils flared. But, to my surprise, Mom nodded. There was no resentment in her face. And I believed she would look after Cora—for me.
“Ready?” Luke asked, stepping closer to me.
No, a voice inside me screamed. But I forced myself to say, “Yes.”
“Close your eyes,” Luke said. “Go back to the field.”
It would be easy. As easy as breathing. That lacrosse field had become a mental haven for me. A place I could conjure easily.
But now, I was afraid of it. Afraid this monumental task would tarnish that field forever. That I would always see it as a prison from now on.
Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, picturing the field. In a flash, I was there.
But it was different this time. There were no other players around me. And I wasn’t dressed in my gear. I wore the same clothes as before—a T-shirt and cargo shorts. I still clutched the cloth and amulet with trembling hands.
Then, Luke appeared in front of me, his expression full of sympathy and understanding. “I’ll be here. Anytime you need some company, just shout for me, and I’ll be here.”
“Thanks.” The word sounded strangled.
Luke’s expression went blank for a moment. “Uh, Gwen says to put the amulet on now.”
I nodded, shifting the cloth so the gold gleamed in the sunlight. Inhaling deeply, I lifted the chain in my fingers and draped the amulet over my head. It settled in the middle of my chest, a heavy weight—a reminder of my task.
Protect the magic, I reminded myself. If you’re here, it means Quentin can’t get this power. It’s safe with you.
When I let go of the amulet, the heaviness intensified, like it was an anchor dragging me down, down, down . . . I groaned, gritting my teeth against the strain, the tugging at my neck. I fell to my knees, hunching over.
Luke let out a sharp breath in a hiss. I weakly glanced up at him and found his expression strained. The muscles and tendons stood out on his neck. He clenched his fingers into fists.
“Gwen says . . . we will adjust to it,” he panted. “But it’s hard . . . at first.”
I sucked in gulps of air, struggling to keep my eyes open. “It’s fine,” I grunted. “I’ll be fine.”
“I gotta go now, Vince. Before Quentin—”
“I know. Go. Be safe.”
He nodded and then vanished. Leaving me utterly alone.
34
Cora
Getting close to Quentin wasn’t easy. I downed my shadow elixir and made my way to his army. The front line of werewolves tensed at my approach. The benefit of my shadows was that they masked my scent, which was handy around werewolves. But they could still see the tendrils of black smoke surrounding me.
I weaved between soldiers. A few wolves snapped their teeth at me, but my shadows burst forward, blocking me from view. Vile dog breath stung my nostrils, but I remained unharmed.
Quentin sensed me before I reached him.
“So, this is your famous shadow elixir?” He chuckled as I drew closer. “I’m impressed.”
Quentin gradually came into view, surrounded by demons on all sides. Werewolves, vampires, dark warlocks, and witches . . . He had his own personal squad to keep him safe.
The coward.
A dark witch lunged for me. I ducked to avoid her magic, then sent a burst of purple magic directly into her chest. She soared backward, colliding with another warlock and exposing Quentin.
I bounded forward, taking advantage of the opening. Even though Quentin only saw a rippling mass of shadows, he could still hurt me.
But I was prepared.
Once I stood directly in front of him, I pressed my hands together and murmured a spell.
“Magic above and powers that be,
Momentarily blind my enemy.”
A flash of purple light, and then Quentin cried out, clutching at his eyes.
I moved quicker than lightning. Several demons surged forward, their faces taut with terror and confusion. I evaded them easily, sidestepping until I stood face-to-face with Quentin.
He froze, his eyes crammed shut. “I can still sense you. You think I’m powerless without my sight?” He swung a fist. I ducked, hooking my leg around his ankle and bringing him crashing to the ground. I pressed my knees into his legs, pinning him in place.
While he was down, I fished through his pockets. He writhed and wriggled, trying to get away, but it was no use. A jet of purple flame seared against my face. Pain coursed through me, but I gritted my teeth, determined to get what I came for.
Then, I found it: a belt with holsters, similar to mine—though this reminded me more of a utility belt. The glass vials clinked together as I unbuckled the belt and rose to my feet.
Quentin blinked furiously, his eyes clearing.
Time’s up.
I uncorked one of my own vials—a Jumping elixir—and swallowed it down. Before I could move, a splitting pain cut into my arm. Crying out, I wrenched my body free from the assailant before turning in place. I vanished with a small pop and reappeared a block away, where Kent was waiting. He frowned at the flurry of shadows surrounding me.
“Cora?” he asked.
I waved my uninjured hand, and my shadows vanished. Panting, I glanced at my other arm. Purple blood ran freely down my forearm, soaking my shirt. The wound pulsed and throbbed, and I hissed in pain. I didn’t have time to take a healing elixir—and even if I did, I needed to save it for the other demons. They needed it more than I did. If I had more time, I could hunt for the healing elixirs Quentin probably had on his belt.
But time wasn’t on our side.
I looked at Kent. “He’s coming.” I glanced at the crowd of demons behind him. “Everyone, get ready!”
I’d left a few of my strongest men on patrol around the city, but the bulk of my coven was here behind me. Ready to fight. Ready to die.
I could practically feel Quentin’s fury. A dark presence stirred in the distance, raging. Drawing closer.
He was powerful without his elixirs. But he needed them, just like I did.
And, more importantly, I’d stolen from him. His pride was wounded.
A small smile quirked on my lips as I thought of his anger. But the satisfaction faded when an eerie purple mist seeped into the parking lot we stood in.
My heart lurched in my throat, and several demons shifted nervously behind me. A thrill raced through me, my once familiar companion: adrenaline. The excitement. The fight.
But it was different this time. It wasn’t just me here. It was everyone I was responsible for protecting.
Fire burned in my veins, and my magic churned in response. Waiting. Ready.
When a figure emerged from the mist, I snapped into action. My magic swelled around me, gathering like a current that carried me forward. And I blasted the first figure until he fell to the ground.
It wasn’t Quentin. I knew he wasn’t stupid enough to put himself at the front.
Not like me.
Another blast. Another one down. But they were approaching quickly, and I couldn’t hold back all of them. Dozens of demons emerged, racing forward, wielding their weapons. I sliced my magic into one of them and ducked to avoid a dagger in the face. Kick in the shin. Slice in the gut. Blood sprayed, demons screamed, bones crunched . . .
The air was a cacophony of sounds. The coppery tang of blood stung my nostrils, mingling with the thick smell of the various dark magic around me.
I heard Kent go down behind me. Then another one of my guys.
Agony pulsed through me, but I shoved it down. I could mourn them later. Now, I had to fight.
The demons didn’t stop coming. It was like Quentin had Jumped his entire army right to us.
I’d hoped to lure him out—alone.
My plan had backfired. Somehow Quentin had Teleported his men right to me.
A scream echoed behind me. With a start, I whirled and found one of my witches being clubbed in the face.
My heart sank to my stomach. Behind us was another throng of Quentin’s men.
Any second now and we’d be surrounded with no way out. We couldn’t win this.
“Fall back!” I roared.
I urged my coven backward, dodging blades and gunfire. Shock rippled through me when I found Piper’s familiar spark of purple hair. I snatched her arm, dragging her away from another demon’s knife.
“What’re you doing here?” I cried.
Piper’s eyes widened at something behind me, and she shot her black magic over my shoulder, assaulting a demon. She fixed a fierce expression on me. “I’m here to fight.”
“You can’t—”
“I know I screwed up before. I can’t fight my father head-on. But I can fight these goons, easy.” She offered a grin before bashing her head backward into the face of another demon.
I raised my eyebrows, impressed.
“We have to retreat before they surround us,” I said. Quentin’s demons kept on coming as if they were multiplying. I no longer recognized the faces around me, except for Piper.
My coven was dying.
Were we the only ones left?
“For Hinport!” I shouted, raising my fist in the air. “My men, on me!” My voice cut through the haze of battle, and several demons shifted in response. I recognized Dex, blood dripping from his fangs as he feasted on a demon. He looked up at me, and I shot him a warning look. With a nod, he shoved aside the demon, whose throat was torn open, and made his way toward me.
Benny . . . Where is Benny?
I’d sent him to the other side of town with the wolves. But they should’ve been here by now.
“Cora,” Piper said urgently.
Through the purple fog emerged one final figure I recognized. My father.
I shook my head. No. If he joins the battle, we’re all dead. We’re already dying.
The slaughter was so, so much worse than I’d feared.
I grabbed Piper’s elbow. “Get to the bunker. Now.”
“I’m not hiding!” she hissed. “I’m with you, Cora.”
I didn’t have time to argue with her. After grabbing the potion vial from my pocket, I quickly downed the rest of my Jumping elixir. My eyes flicked around the lot, squinting as I tried to make out anyone else on my side. Anyone I might have missed.
There was one more: Finn, a dark warlock. I hollered for him until he caught my eye and moved over to me. When we were all huddled together and Quentin’s demons had us blocked in, I made sure we all had our arms linked.
“Hold tight!” I shouted.
I turned in place, gripping the arms of my last remaining comrades, and with a pop, we vanished from the battle.
Dust, dirt, and sharp concrete broke my fall. My hands were still tightly gripping the arms of Piper and Dex, so I had nothing to break my fall but my forearms. I grunted as the hard ground scraped against my skin. Around me, my comrades coughed and sputtered, waving dust out of their faces.
“Where are we?” Piper wheezed.
I squinted. A gloomy darkness surrounded me. As my eyes adjusted, I made out several dusty cardboard boxes and broken pieces of furniture. Dust tickled my throat. “An old storehouse. It’s cloaked, and no one can enter unless they have—” I stopped. I was about to say my blood . . . but that now included Quentin. Shaking my head, I said, “We can’t stay here too long. We’ll have to move soon.”
“And go where?” Finn asked.
A heavy silence fell around us. Our eyes met with grim realization.
We had nowhere to go. No home. No friends or allies.
Quentin and his army would hunt us.
We were on our own.
All I wanted to do was collapse in a heap and succumb to the despair. To do nothing but wallow in my defeat, in the horrible choices I’d made. I’d lost my coven, my city, my family . . .
But as I gazed at the bleak expressions of my last remaining allies, an unfamiliar fire burned in my chest. I yearned to triumph over this—but not for my own sake. For them. To save them. To bring them back home. To give them hope again.
Wiping dust from my pants, I climbed to my feet with a grunt. Even though my body ached and throbbed with injuries and exhaustion, I forced myself to stand up straighter and look each one of them in the eye.
“I don’t know,” I said, answering Finn’s question. My voice was strong, but it crackled, betraying my fatigue. “I don’t know where we’ll go or how long we’ll have to run. But this isn’t over. I swear to you—on my life and on my blood—that somehow, we’ll take our city back. One day, we will have our revenge. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen.” I pressed my bloodied hand to my chest, my fingers forming a fist. “I’m with you. All of you. Until the end.”
For a moment, silence followed, and I feared my words had no effect on them. But then, slowly, my friends stood, their eyes glinting with determination. One by one, they pressed a fist to their chests and echoed my words: “I’m with you. Until the end.”
35
Vince
I had no concept of time in the field of Luke’s mind. After what felt like an hour, the heavy weight of the amulet settled into something more bearable. I was able to straighten and even stand, though it was still a strain for me. Sweat dripped down my face, and my arms trembled.
After what I guessed was two hours, I could easily pace the length of the field. I even broke into a brisk jog, my legs aching to strain against something. Especially when everyone I loved was out there fighting—and possibly dying.
Were the Reapers helping Cora fight Quentin? Was Cora all right? What about my parents?
I didn’t dare call for Luke. Not yet. He needed to get to a safe place first. I wouldn’t jeopardize his safety by distracting him.
When I was too exhausted to keep pacing, I collapsed to the ground, propping my arms up on my knees as I twirled a blade of grass between my fingers. My heart thrummed rapidly inside me like the fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings. My breaths were sharp and uneven, and sweat now coated my entire body. I vaguely wondered how I would take care of hygiene, sleep, food, and other needs . . . But I reminded myself Luke would be back eventually.
Perhaps I didn’t need to eat. Gwen had said my body would be in a sort of stasis. Maybe time was completely frozen for me.
After another long stretch of time, the aching boredom started to gnaw at my mind. All I could do was fret about my friends and family, my brain circling through horrifying scenarios and dwelling on how helpless I was.
Something pulsed inside me the longer I sat there with my anxiety. At first, I thought it was simply the magic of the amulet. But the presence grew and grew
within me until, with a jolt, I recognized it. Foreign, and yet so familiar.
The timeline.
It called to me.
As soon as I identified it, it surged forward eagerly. Power tickled my skin. I wiggled my fingertips. Even with my Reaper magic gone, I still felt alive inside. Not just the weight of the amulet, but the weight of my own powers.
My warlock powers. They mingled with the timeline, intertwined like two snakes enjoining. Like they fit together perfectly.
I stared numbly at the grass in front of me, finally facing what I’d been avoiding for so long.
The Call. The connection to the timeline. I had it. Just like Hector.
Something quivered along the timeline like a ripple in the water. I frowned. What was that?
There it was again, more insistent. Like a crisp, clear chord of music flowing through me.
My mouth opened, and before I’d even processed it, I spoke.
“Hector.”
Hector appeared in front of me. And though my mind faintly registered I should be shocked at this . . . I wasn’t. Deep inside, I knew I could summon him. Just like I could summon any Timekeeper.
Because I had the Call.
Hector only looked at me, also unsurprised. A heaviness stirred in his eyes—something I’d seen before but hadn’t identified.
The timeline was a burden to him. Just as this amulet was a burden to me.
I rose to my feet to face him. My mouth felt dry. For a moment, we just stared at each other.
Then, I asked, “Did you know who Quentin was?”
Gold light flared inside me as if chastising me for asking this. The timeline, an unfeeling and logical side of me, warred with my emotions. It seemed to whisper, This doesn’t matter right now. And you know it.
But I had to know.
“The Demon War,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “Did you know?”
Hector swallowed hard. “Yes. I knew who Quentin was. But that was before.”
I didn’t have to ask what he meant. Before I’d marked him. Before he’d accessed the timeline.
“It was a fixed event on the timeline, Vince,” Hector said quietly. “It couldn’t be altered even if I wanted to.”