There was cheering and clapping.
“Yessss!” someone screamed. Ridley realized it was her.
ShadowKnight stopped in his tracks and turned to listen to the president’s words. He fell to his knees, shaking his head.
“The portal is open!” Aunt Viola exclaimed. “Let’s send Mr. Hobbes back to his time.”
An image of Penelope flashed through Ridley’s head. Her sweet smile, her warm brown eyes. We’ll bring her back somehow, with or without ShadowKnight.
“Reditus?” Dr. Jessup asked Viola.
“Yes. Reditus. Why don’t we all cast it?”
The ten witches joined hands again and invoked the time-travel spell together. Ridley watched, fascinated and a little terrified, too, as a hole opened up in the sky and ShadowKnight’s body began to glow.
He reached his arm out toward Binx, his eyes wide and frightened.
“Pokedragon, no! Please don’t!”
Ridley felt her best friend’s hand twitch and momentarily slip away.
Then slip back into Ridley’s grasp again.
“Reditus,” Binx repeated, her voice steady.
“Pokedragon!”
With one last cry, ShadowKnight disappeared into the portal.
EPILOGUE
It was strange being in ShadowKnight’s house without him. As the other witches set up for the necromancy ritual, Binx walked slowly around the dimly lit room and trailed her fingers lightly across the equipment. Keyboards. Monitors. Consoles. VR headsets. All of it covered by an almost invisible layer of dust. How Maximus Hobbes had transported from the nineteenth century and morphed himself into a young twenty-first-century tech savant was beyond her comprehension. And it hadn’t been an act, either. Binx knew a gaming addict when she saw one, and he’d definitely been a gaming addict.
Was he still, though? What happened to people when they time-traveled? Did ShadowKnight revert to his Hobbes identity when he landed in 1877… if he landed in 1877? Or was he still ShadowKnight, with all his newfound, circa 2017 knowledge and passions, trapped in an era without computers or video games or even access to electricity?
Was he even alive? His first journey through time had practically killed him, which was why the horrific heart-fire business had been necessary. Well, not “necessary,” exactly, because was ShadowKnight’s role in the prophecy ultimately essential to save witches from extinction? Was everything that had already happened by definition essential, since how can one unbake the cake of the present back into its original ingredients? Had C-Squared known in advance how all this would play out?
Binx chuckled and rolled her eyes. Now she was just being silly and random and philosophical, which wasn’t like her. Although it was better than dwelling. Dwelling on recent events would only suck up all her physical, mental, emotional, and magical energy more than it already had.
You should have been honest with me, ShadowKnight.
She would eventually have come around to accepting his dark past. She could have handled the “I used to be a witch-hunter” detail. What she couldn’t handle was the “I’m going to release a deadly virus to kill our enemies” part. Mass murder was fine in games, but definitely not IRL.
Luckily, Torrence and Iris’s alteration of the W-stone, infused with the love potion and praetereo hybrid, seemed to have had the desired effect. At the rally, President Ingraham had pivoted from anti-magic to pro-tolerance, ripped up his proposed new law, and promised to draft yet another version that would ensure civil rights for witches. The rallygoers had looked momentarily confused, but the W-stone had affected them, too, because they’d listened to the president’s words without protest. Some had even applauded. The work was just beginning, of course. The W-stone had touched only President Ingraham and a small number of his supporters. There were many, many others whose minds had yet to be changed. But having the president on the right side of the issue was huge progress. And already, footage from the rally had gone viral via the news and on social media. It would just be a matter of time before the New Order, and the rest of the Antima, fractured and folded for good.
Guess Div will have to settle for equality, not witch superiority. So will I. But for now, that seems like a good—no, great—outcome.
A photo caught Binx’s attention. A headshot—was it a nondigital selfie? It was the size of a trading card, nestled in a metal bowl full of controllers and cables.
Binx picked up the photo and squinted… and gasped. Was that her? No, it was a young woman who resembled her, except that her hair was long and black and pulled back in a knot, not short and streaked with purple, and she wore a high-necked, old-fashioned-looking blouse, not a BLUE ANGEL PUPPY HEART T-shirt.
Who was this woman? Was she some sort of time-traveling version of herself? A nineteenth-century Binx Akari Kato?
“Binx? Over here, please. We’re almost ready to get started.”
Div was calling out to her. Binx slipped the photo into her pocket—she would solve this mystery later, maybe using her new magical facial-recognition app—and joined the others. They were standing solemnly in a large circle: Div, Aysha, Mira, Ridley, Greta, Iris, Torrence, Dr. Jessup, and Aunt Viola.
And in the center of the circle was Penelope, lying on the floor on a bed of pink rose petals. Next to her, thirteen candles flickered over a careful arrangement of bloodstone, black onyx, mugwort, and wolfsbane. ShadowKnight had promised to lead the necromancy ritual tonight at midnight during the fleeting dark moon phase with the help of the two covens. He was no longer available, obviously, and so Dr. Jessup and Ridley’s aunt had stepped up with some of C-Squared’s notes on the ritual. According to Dr. Jessup, C-Squared had explored necromancy and other dark arts in the years before her death. She hadn’t been only about the love and light. Or rather, her concept of love and light had been very fluid and out of the box.
Fluid and out of the box… that was Binx’s style of witchcraft, too. She had a newfound appreciation for C-Squared.
Dr. Jessup laid down a crystal vial of dark red liquid among the magical gems and plants. “This is Penelope’s blood. We had a sample at the hospital from an old lab test,” she explained.
“Ew! That is… I mean… ew thought of everything!” Iris said with a nervous laugh.
“Jane, what about Penelope’s diary? Did you manage to find it?” Aunt Viola asked.
“Yes. With the help of Aysha’s excellent mobilus skills.”
“Thanks, Dr. Jessup!” Aysha reached into her backpack, pulled out a small leather-bound notebook, and placed it next to the other items.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Binx reached into her own backpack and pulled out her Pokémon deck. She quickly found Xerneas, the black-and-blue stag with four pairs of antlers.
“Is it okay if I add this?” she asked the circle. “It’s a powerful Gen Six Legendary that can help us with the ritual. It has the ability to extend eternal life—not that we’re going for immortality here, but resurrection is kind of the same thing, right? Anyway, we’ll know it’s working when Xerneas’s antlers turn seven different colors.”
“Yes, of course, Binx,” Dr. Jessup said, nodding. She turned to the others. “Before we begin, there’s something very important that I need to share with you all. Viola and I discussed it on the way here, and it’s the only solution we can come up with.”
“The only solution to what?” Greta asked curiously.
“To our time-line conundrum. If our ritual is successful, we’ll be bringing Penelope back to life when her family, her friends, her teachers, and others know her to be dead. Which would create an impossible situation. So Viola and I have decided to cast a series of spells that will make people forget what happened to Penelope on that fateful day… including Penelope herself. In her mind and in everyone else’s minds, she spent the last month in the hospital with a bad head injury because she was thrown by a horse. She’s now recovered and returning to her normal life.”
“Wow, that’s even more sci-fi and time-bendy than the
portal thingama-whosit!” Iris burst out. “Well, maybe not. Maybe it’s a tie.”
“We’ll know the truth, though, right? The ten of us in this room?” Mira said, sweeping her arm in a circle.
“Unfortunately, no,” Dr. Jessup replied. “This amnesia, this rewriting of Penelope’s history, will include all of us. These spells Viola and I will be using… they don’t discriminate or make exceptions. It’s all or nothing. After this is over, none of us will remember what happened to Penelope. In addition, all traces of her death, including her gravestone, the coroner’s report, and so forth, will have disappeared.”
Ridley stared at Dr. Jessup. “Does that mean…” Her voice trembled slightly. “Will I at least remember her from before she died? And will she remember me?”
Aunt Viola squeezed Ridley’s arm. “We’re not sure, darling girl. But this is the only way. And if the two of you are meant to remember each other, then you will remember each other. That, I’m sure of.”
Ridley sniffed and brushed away a tear. “Yes. Okay. The most important thing is that she come back to us, right?”
Binx reached over and hugged Ridley. Her heart ached for her best friend.
Greta and Iris joined in on the hug, and so did everyone else. Even Div. The ice queen does have a softer side, after all.
After a long moment—Are the two covens really hugging? The two covens are really hugging!—Binx felt Ridley extract herself.
“I’m ready, guys. Let’s do this,” Ridley said, brushing away a few more tears.
The ten witches joined hands and began the ritual.
On the floor, Xerneas’s many antlers shimmered with rainbow colors.
Iris’s Krush date was a bust. As soon as they walked into the homecoming dance, Yasmine left Iris to fend for herself.
“Oh, there’s my friend Taro! I’m gonna go talk to him. I’ll see you later?”
“Um…” Iris stammered.
“Hey, Taro!” Yasmine fluttered her fingers and hurried away. Argh. Iris pulled her phone out of her vintage cat-shaped purse and pretend-scrolled furiously. She’s not my type, anyway. I don’t really like girls who are cute and smart and funny and into gaming.
The Sorrow Point High gymnasium had been transformed into a glamorous gold-and-pink party space with streamers, balloons, and silk flowers. The theme of the dance was “Moonlight and Magic,” so there were paper moons and stars dangling from the ceiling, plus each table was decorated with craft wands, potion bottles filled with colored sand, and votive candles floating in crystal water bowls. It was all so romantic. Now, if only Iris had someone to be romantic with.
She didn’t even have anyone to hang with in a not-romantic way. Binx, Div, Aysha, and Mira were present, but busily working the event as committee members. Which was surreal, in Iris’s humble opinion. Aside from Mira, who was super-friendly and gregarious, that coven generally tended to avoid humanity and social interaction. At the moment, Mira and Div were at the refreshments table with a girl named Hannah, ladling lime-green punch into paper cups and handing out cupcakes. Aysha and Binx were out front with another girl named Hannah, overseeing the guest list and check-in process.
Where was Ridley, though? And Greta? Especially Greta?
“Hey, Iris!”
Torrence approached her, holding two cups of green punch. He offered her one.
“It’s not a love potion, is it?” Iris said sarcastically.
“No. But it’s not a reverse love potion, either.”
“Ha.”
“I still feel bad about that.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
The day after WitchWorldCon, when Iris had discovered that Torrence gave Greta a love-potion tea, she’d quickly concocted a successful counter potion to negate its effects. Then, a few days later, Iris had whipped up another love-potion tea, this time to make Greta like her, not Torrence. But before serving it to Greta, she’d changed her mind. She couldn’t keep trying to win over her crush by using sneaky shortcuts and intrusive magical shenanigans; she wanted Greta to like her for real.
Last week, after a coven meeting, Iris and Torrence had spoken to Greta privately and confessed about giving her the love-potion tea and anti-love-potion tea. Greta, being the sweetest, kindest, most amazing person in the world, had forgiven them. She’d also indicated that as much as she liked them both as friends, she was still getting over someone… she hadn’t said who.
Which meant that Iris was not doing so well in the “Greta liking her for real” department. Or in the Krush department. Maybe she was destined to be single forever.
“So are you having fun?” Torrence asked Iris as he leaned against a twinkle-light-covered column. “Are you a school-dance person?”
He looked kind of handsome in his retro black tux, but Iris wasn’t about to tell him that. “No, times two. Are you?”
“Same. You’re here with a date, though, right? I saw you walk in together.”
“Technically, she’s an ex-date. Our relationship lasted, like, twenty minutes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well… I’m not having a lot of luck lately with the dating thing.”
“Same. I was doing just fine, but then this O.P. witch came along and foiled my plot.”
“What a coincidence! The same thing happened to me!”
They grinned at each other.
“Iris! Torrence!”
Iris turned in the direction of the familiar voice. It was Ridley, hurrying toward them from the check-in area. She wore a rose-gold velvet dress and strappy red heels, and her hair and face shimmered with a subtle glitter effect.
“Ohmigosh, you look a-mazing!” Iris gushed.
“Thanks! My mom and Aunt Viola took me shopping. Can I hang out with the two of you? I just got here, and I’m already feeling kind of… I don’t know… discombobulated. And my date, Binx, is busy at the moment.”
“Of course. Here, let me get you some punch. Be back in a sec,” Torrence said.
Once they were alone, Iris hooked her arm through Ridley’s. “Is everything okay?”
“Well, yes. Except, remember that girl I told you all I liked? She’s here with someone. I think he might even be her boyfriend. Ugh.” Ridley chin-nodded toward the center of the floor. A beautiful blond girl was slow-dancing with a cute blond guy.
Iris scrunched up her face, trying to remember their names. “She’s Penelope something, right? And who’s he? He looks familiar.”
“She’s Penelope Hart, and he’s Colter Jessup. I think he used to date Mira in middle school?”
“Oh, wow. Yeah, I met him before. He helped me find my homeroom the first day of school because I got lost. Because that’s what I do. Get lost. He’s nice.”
Ridley rolled her eyes. “Oh, great. He’s hot and he’s nice. I don’t have a chance!”
The song came to a close. Penelope peeled away from Colter and started toward the restrooms. Colter joined a small group that was sitting at a nearby table. Then Penelope’s gaze flicked in Ridley and Iris’s direction. She smiled and wandered over.
“Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh,” Ridley murmured under her breath.
“It’s gonna be okay. Hello! Greetings!” Iris called out to Penelope.
“Hi! You’re Iris, right? I love your kitty purse!” Penelope complimented her.
“Thanks! I bought it at this vintage store in New York City. Well, technically, my sister Kedren bought it, but I’m taking care of it while she’s away at college.”
“Cool.” Penelope beamed at Ridley. “And you’re in my history class. Ridley, right? Ridley Stone?”
Ridley rainbow-waved. “Hi! Yup, I’m Ridley. Soooo… how did you do on the quiz yesterday?”
“I’m not sure. I forgot to read that chapter, plus I didn’t get much sleep the night before because I was up late rewatching The Matrix for the gazillionth time.”
Ridley gasped. “You like The Matrix? That’s my favorite movie.”
“Really? Me too. What’s your
favorite scene?”
“Hmm, excellent question. Maybe the scene where Neo is mystically dodging all those bullets? No, actually, it’s the scene where he meets Trinity.”
“Ohmigosh, me too!”
“Also, there is no spoon.”
“There is no spoon!”
The two girls giggled.
“So I’m just going to… and I’ll be back in a…” Iris waved awkwardly and slipped away. Ridley and Penelope had an obvious connection. Maybe there was a chance for Ridley, after all? And maybe she, Iris, could help fate by distracting Colter for a bit? But as she headed toward his table, a startling—no, totally shocking—sight caught her attention.
Two girls were kissing behind a twinkle-light column, their slender arms wrapped around each other. Platinum-white hair mingling with long auburn curls.
Div and Greta.
Iris’s jaw dropped practically to the floor. A moment later, Torrence appeared at her side.
“Did you know?” he whispered.
“Um… no? Gah! Did you?”
“No. Although…”
“Although what?”
“Greta and I had an interesting conversation recently. About how hard it can be to get over someone from your past. I thought she was speaking hypothetically, but… I guess not?”
“I guess not.”
Iris stood there staring for a long moment, her heart hammering in her chest, wondering if there was a not-caring spell she could cast. Maybe that reverse-love-potion tea would be helpful right about now? On the other hand, things could always change. With time. If Ridley could feel hopeful about her crush, then Iris could feel hopeful about hers.
The song ended with a bittersweet-sounding chord. Greta broke away from Div and hurried away, looking flustered. Div shrugged and checked her phone. Hmm, maybe things are already changing?
“Hey, Torrence! Random idea. Let’s make Greta jealous,” Iris said suddenly.
Torrence blinked. “How?”
“We could dance together?”
“You… and me?”
“Yup. Unless you don’t know how to dance? Actually, to be perfectly honest—what does that phrase mean, anyway? How do you be imperfectly honest? Anyhoo, I’m like the worst dancer in the world.” Iris demonstrated a quick flossing move. “See?”
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