The drive to the Trail of Tears state park was quieter than I was used to.

My trips with Rose, Zarina and Aubrette were normally spent in conversation, and I couldn’t even think of the last time I’d gone on a drive that lasted more than fifteen minutes that didn’t involve one of them. Cindy was perfectly content with silence—she was happy to talk, but by preference would put her mouth to a different use.

The trips that we didn’t fill with words were filled with music instead. Everyone had different tastes, so to maintain harmony we rotated who got to choose the genre, but there was usually something on.

Today, the knowledge that we were heading into battle weighed on us, and while it was technically Rose’s turn to pick the music, the radio was currently as silent as we were. The only sounds were the hum of the car’s engine, the road beneath our wheels, and the distant rumble of thunder.

While the sky was overcast, we hadn’t seen any sign of the forecast storms.

My weather gave us a sixty-forty split on severe weather. Given that one of Janssens’ thralls was a lightning bird, my own prediction was closer to one hundred percent.

It was possible the witch hadn’t predicted our attack, that the weather was nothing more than bad luck, but I wasn’t willing to take that chance. I also wasn’t willing to back down. If we fled—if I turned tail and hid, it would only be delaying the confrontation and giving her more chances to bolster her forces.

Maybe Janssens knew we were coming. Maybe she didn’t. Either way, now that the vampires had backed down as a threat, we had to come down on her as hard and fast as we could in the hopes of ending things before they got out of hand.

We’d briefly discussed holding off a day to give the weather a chance to pass, but had ultimately decided against it. If the storms on the horizon were the result of the impundulu’s magic, waiting a day wouldn’t make a difference. If they were natural, we might have an easier time locating and approaching the witch, but we also gave her more time to grow suspicious and prepare.

We pulled into the visitor’s center parking lot and climbed out to stretch. We hadn’t stopped on the drive, and as spacious as Zarina’s SUV was, five people and our gear made for limited space to get comfortable.

The last few days had been warm enough that only a hint of snow remained, but the temperature today had dropped far enough that the lot was nearly empty. According to a large sign posted on a board near the entrance to the park the visitor’s center was closed for the day, but there was a pair of state park rangers hanging out and chatting together next to a slightly beat up jeep. One of them, an older man with a neatly trimmed beard, gave a friendly wave as we approached them on our way towards the trailhead.

Both he and his younger partner gave us much closer looks when we got close enough for our bulky clothing to be more visible.

We didn’t stop.

Rose gave them a beaming smile and waved cheerily, but I didn’t want to get bogged down talking to the local law enforcement. I wasn’t a huge fan of having encountered them at all, since our confrontation with Janssens might draw some attention and I didn’t want anyone trying to find us to ask us about it later. It was bad enough that they obviously noticed how oddly we were dressed. Doing anything to draw more attention to us would only increase the odds that if something significant happened in the park they would want to bring us in and question us about it.

To my relief, though, they didn’t attempt to flag us down or engage in conversation.

The trailhead was about a mile down the road, and as soon as we were out of sight of the rangers, we took off at a jog.

Fifteen minutes later—with a solid wall of trees for cover—we launched our next round of preparations. Rose’s form rippled and flowed to assume her black mare shape, and her massive hoofs made dull clomping sounds on the dirt as she trotted in place to ready herself.

Zarina chanted and gestured with swift, precise motions that left golden streaks of light hovering in the wake of her nimble fingers. When the pattern was complete it vanished. A moment later, the golden mirror of my Puca mount appeared at the wizard’s side, shimmering in the diffuse light that filtered through the dark clouds above.

The first time I’d seen Zarina conjure her magnificent mount, the wizard had told me that the modern Akhal-Teke breed of horses was an attempt by a rival family to breed a living alternative of equal beauty. I’ve never been a horse aficionado, but when I looked online I could see that, as beautiful as the breed was, it fell short of the Malle family Arcane construct which had inspired it.

The horse appeared as a living creature—or at least close enough to pass a mundane inspection—with sleek lines and shining fur to make any living creature blush. Tall, powerful, and swift, it was already clad in harness and tack that were as much a part of it as its gleaming coat.

Rose snorted as she saw it and stamp one of her hoofs hard. Despite the seriousness of the situation, a smile cracked my lips as I walked over and leaned in. My arms wrapped around her horse-form’s thick neck and I squeezed her in a hug, then whispered, “Don’t compare yourself. You’re a beautiful horse, it’s just a shiny toy. Besides, your tits are better than its. I mean, not now, but-” She stamped again, more gently, and flexed her neck to nuzzle against me.

I left it at that.

By the time I pulled back, Zarina was mounted and Aubrette was approaching with a saddle she had pulled from thin air. The items the Sidhe conjured weren’t generally as impressive as the golden steed the wizard rode, but that was a bespoke Arcane construct crafted through one of the Malle family’s legacy spells, and I was constantly amazed at the sheer utility of having a woman in my service who simply always had any mundane item I might require readily at hand.

It took a few minutes for Aubrette and me to saddle Rose. Once I did, I vaulted myself into her saddle with the practice born of several days of searching the park the last time we were here. Cindy slid up gracefully behind me, and locked her thin arms around my torso, while Aubrette took slightly longer joining Zarina.

Once mounted, all heads turned towards the trail as we set off at a trot.

* * *

The last time we searched the state park, in late February, we’d been searching blind. We knew there was an impundulu in the area, but little else. This time, we had a good idea of what we were looking for, so Zarina had taken some time to prepare.

I carried the same essence dowser she’d crafted for me before, but this time it had some additional modifications. It wouldn’t be as useful for searching out anything and everything—most of the random traces of magic it had picked up last time were absent now—but it was far, far more sensitive when it came to tracking impundulu, and Jinn.

I swept the magical device back and forth in slow arcs at arm’s reach as I peered through it to search the skies. With the rippling distortion between the metal prongs and the roiling clouds overhead, I had to fight back motion sickness that was not made any easier by the bouncing motion of Rose’s steady trot. Her heavy hoofs thudded in a steady rhythm on the dirt trail that was echoed from behind as Zarina’s Arcane mount followed twenty feet back.

The sky continued to darken.

It was only after more than an hour of searching that we saw our first sign of success. Zarina—a faintly golden glow lighting up her eyes—pointed skyward. “There. The impundulu passed through here recently. I can’t tell which direction he was traveling, but we have a good chance of finding Janssens if we pick a direction and follow.”

Rose slowed and then stopped. Her breathing was heavy, but the sheer fact that she had kept up that pace for an hour with two riders on her back reminded me that I might not have given the Puca’s magic enough credit most of the time. She didn’t have Zarina’s Arcane prowess or Cindy’s raw physical might, but the unending endurance of the Fae trickster was not to be underestimated.

While my mount caught her breath, I lifted my essence dowser to the skies to follow Zarina’s finger. Sure enough, as the metal prongs swept over the skies I was able to just barely pick out a thin trail of swirling storm clouds perhaps a hundred feet up, somehow undisturbed by the rising winds. Against the camouflage of the dark skies above the dark shapes were all but invisible, but a few minutes of careful examination allowed me to eventually pick out a path that ran from southwest to northeast.

I tucked the entwined metal rods into my belt to free up my hands, then unfolded a map from a pouch at my belt. Tracing the heavy finger of my glove along the paper, I followed our route and announced, “If we head along the path a little while longer we should hit a fork. The path curved to run east to west a little while ago. If the impundulu was headed southwest, that would mean Janssens is near the lake. If it was headed northeast, she’s in the woods deeper in the hills. The lake has a bathroom and parking—I think if her camp was there it would be pretty obvious, so…”

Zarina needed only a moment’s thought after I trailed off. “She’s in the hills. We should continue on, take the right at the fork, and find the spot where the lightning bird’s path crossed the trail. We’ll probably need to go off the path there, but if we follow the trail as long as possible we wont need to spend as much time traveling cross country.”

I checked my Gift to see if it provided any guidance, but the range of possibilities laid out before me contained both weal and woe no matter which direction I planned to head. The park wasn’t empty, the chances of crossing paths with more free-willed individuals were high, and I simply wasn’t well enough informed about the situation to allow my inherent magic to discern a clear path forward.

Instead, I trusted in the judgment of one of the smartest women I’d ever met and we took off down the trail. It was only about twenty minutes later that we reached the fork, and before we took off into the woods I checked my gift again. It was no more successful than the last time, though, so without further delay we stuck with our initial guess and took the right fork, headed to the north.

This trail was slightly wider, and the larger gap in the trees made it far easier to follow the lazily swirling trail of storm clouds the impundulu left in its wake. When we finally stood directly beneath the path he had taken, we turned off and headed deeper into the hills.

Our pace slowed drastically. While the trees were spread far enough apart for our mounts to weave between them, even with winter barely fading into spring, the underbrush was thick enough to prevent running. The uneven ground was treacherous underfoot, and we went from a steady trot to a slow walk as we carefully followed the magical tracks the Lightning Bird left on its journey through the skies above.

Silence and vigilance were the order of the day. Zarina’s glowing eyes swept the skies while I peered out between metal rods. Cindy and Aubrette held their heads high, scanning through the still bare branches of the trees for any sign of our prey—or incoming attack.

As I glanced back over my shoulder, I was struck by how astonishingly natural the Noble Sidhe looked. Even riding behind another, her bearing acted as a firm reminder that in her time in the Sidhe court, her specific role had meant she accompanied the royal family on regular hunting trips—and while she hadn’t given much detail, I had gathered that their prey was rarely as mundane as foxes or boars.

Cindy was obviously no stranger to conflict, and Zarina had confronted more than one supernatural threat in her time, but the tall redhead had centuries of experience in specifically riding into the woods with a party in search of something to kill.

And sometimes, I thought of her as soft because of the way she blushed when I ordered her to get her tits out. I shook my head with a quiet laugh and re-focused my attention on the skies above.

It took nearly an hour of winding our way along occasionally treacherous slopes of rolling hills before I caught a glimpse of something new in the air—a patch of what looked like swirling blue sand spiraling overhead. undisturbed by the increasingly powerful gusts of wind driven by the oncoming storm. I pointed it out to Zarina, and we altered our course to head towards where the two paths left by Janssens’ magical servants converged.

* * *

By the time we reached the next clearing in the trees my face was pricked by occasional misty drops of frigid rain.

In other circumstances, the meadow that opened up ahead might have been a beautiful sight. Overgrown with native wildflowers and shrubs, surrounded by huge sycamore trees, it held the promise of gorgeous summer days.

Today, in the throes of late winter, we were greeted by brown grasses, ankle high stones, and wiry shrubs that promised to snag every limb they could reach.

A few hundred feet away, on the opposite side of the clearing, stood three figures.

If I hadn’t known what to expect, I might not have recognized Tzila. The Jinn’s glossy black hair was just as I remembered it, but where she’d been fair-skinned when she arrived at my apartment, her exposed arms and face were instead the light blue of a cloudless sky. Her legs were gone. Instead, her body below the waist was a hazy swirl of blue that left her torso floating several feet off of the ground.

To her left stood a tall Black man wearing a long white cotton shirt adorned with colorful blue and gold embroidery. The dark hair atop his head was buzzed almost to the scalp, and he wore a pair of cheap heavy sunglasses even in the darkening light of the growing storm.

Between the two stood a woman.

Janssens.

She looked younger than I had expected—mid to late thirties at the oldest—with curly, reddish-brown hair pinned back behind her head. She wore a heavy wool coat that managed to narrowly avoid looking anachronistic, and jeans.

I spent half a second wondering if this was actually the witch who had been causing headaches for Amari Malle for centuries. I’d been expecting tattered robes and warts, not a woman who looked like someone’s career-focused aunt.

Then I looked at her face and pushed the thought away immediately. Her eyes, even from a hundred feet away, were cold, without a hint of compassion in them. She was studying me even as I studied her, and the sheer avarice on her face told me everything I needed to know—she wanted what I had, and she was prepared to kill to get it.

There weren’t going to be any nonviolent outcomes to this meeting.

Tzila raised a hand and a flood of blue motes gathered up in a swirl around her outstretched fingers. Zarina responded instantly and golden light coalesced into two disks of ethereal runes a few feet across in front of her, but no attack came.

Instead, Janssens spoke, and her voice carried across several hundred feet of distance through rising storm winds with ease, reaching my ears as though we were chatting casually in a quiet room.

“I will give you one chance to accept my offer, Jack Puttman, because I am a generous and forgiving woman. I will even provide the payment my slave offered you, that you might walk away enriched. Give me the book—my rightful property—and none of your toys need be damaged.” Despite her heavy accent, Josina’s words were as perfectly clear as the rage scarcely concealed behind them.

I stared across the meadow for several long seconds. Rain began to pelt down around me in fat, cold, stinging drops, and the corners of my vision began to go white as I answered in a flat monotone. “My counteroffer is this: Release those you brought with you from their bargains. Free them, and I will allow you to leave. There is no way in all of the hells that you’re ever so much as touching the book. Not in this lifetime or any other. I’ll see it destroyed first.”

I didn’t raise my voice, but from the way Janssens’ shoulders stiffened abruptly, I had no doubt my words had reached her. She glared at me in silence for several seconds in an attempt to pierce me with the frozen steel of her gaze.

When that failed to slay me, she gestured with both hands in my direction and unleashed the creatures at her sides.

Tzila launched forward into a swirling funnel cloud of blue sand, while the man beside her raised both his hands above his head, then yanked them to his waist as though pulling down invisible ropes.

I felt the hair across my entire body rise and my heart began to pound as the roar of rushing blood filled my head. A hint of gold coalesced in my vision, then everything went white. For several seconds, I could see nothing as lightning blinded me, the roar of thunder drowning out everything as my awareness was lost in an ocean of noise and light.

I swayed in my saddle, and only Cindy’s arms around my waist kept me from toppling off Rose’s back. A moment later even those were gone as the diminutive demon slipped free.

By the time I had managed to blink my eyes clear of the afterimages flooding my view, I was the only one still mounted. My vision swam as I scanned the clearing to try to catch up on everything I’d missed in those few seconds of disorientation and blindness.

The Arcane mount was nowhere to be seen. The wizard had likely dismissed it as soon as she dismounted, and both of its original riders were moving in different directions.

Aubrette was on foot about thirty feet away, and as I watched as she plunged what looked like a large javelin several feet into the ground. Her pace barely slowed and she moved with unearthly grace as she leapt clear of a rounded boulder, her hand already reaching out behind reality to pull another metal rod into existence.

My eyes found Zarina next. She was a point of glowing light above the battlefield, and the golden glow that surrounded her was the only steady illumination as the skies above were blotted out by heavy roiling clouds. I could barely see her through the nimbus that surrounded her, but as her hands wove a complex pattern I felt the air thrum with building power.

I tapped Rose with my heels and leaned forward along her back. While I was a novice rider, the magical bindings that linked my Puca mount to me allowed us to work in far greater harmony than my inexperience would suggest. She could read my needs and responded with supernatural ease by leaping forward in a full gallop. Her hoofs cut through the dirt and launched huge clods of soil in her wake as she launched herself across the field.

For a moment I seemed to soar weightlessly as she cleared a chest-high patch of brush in a single leap, then I had to squeeze the pommel in a death grip to avoid being thrown from the saddle as we landed. My legs flexed in the stirrups to hold myself steady as we raced towards Josina’s last location and I again swept my eyes across the battlefield.

This time I managed to finally spot Cindy and Tzila. The latter was a vaguely humanoid mass of blue that swirled and darted around the Sin Demon like a swarm of gnats—except as she approached, she coalesced at the last second into a solid humanoid form for just enough to strike.

A second strike of lightning crashed down somewhere behind me, and in the flash of illumination it cast I caught the look of exultant glee on Cindy’s face. Her purple lips were drawn in a fierce grin that bared her perfectly white and even teeth, and the impact of Tzila’s fist on the small of her back did nothing to detract from her obvious excitement. If she felt even a hint of discomfort at the blow, she gave no sign- instead, her torso whipped around in a blur as she lashed out with one hand to slash through the space the Jinn had occupied a heartbeat before.

I still couldn’t find any sign of the tall man that I assumed to be the impundulu, but as Rose carried me towards the patch of ground Janssens had occupied, I caught a glimpse of the heavy wool coat the witch had worn as it disappeared deeper into the trees. My thighs squeezed around the Puca’s flanks as we altered direction to follow, and our pace barely slowed as we plunged into the woods.

* * *

Branches whipped past my face in a blur and I had to press myself flat along Rose’s back to keep from being knocked off of my mount. At the same time, it was like I could feel my bond with the Puca thrum in harmony with my Gift. We should’ve crashed into a tree immediately, should’ve stumbled over roots and gone tumbling to the forest floor, but somehow-

Somehow, every time Rose’s hoof hit the ground, it found an open patch between the roots.

Somehow, she managed to turn her body just enough that the branches which should have knocked me from the saddle just barely brushed against me instead.

We rode in perfect harmony, and slipped through the world as though following a path laid out just for us.

Despite that ease, it was all but impossible to keep my eyes fixed on the darting figure ahead. The skies had grown dark as storm clouds gathered overhead, and I lost track of Janssens for several long seconds as she dashed madly into the woods ahead.

I only found her again when lightning lit up the skies.

The crack of thunder rolled through me hard enough to rattle my teeth and I watched the witch throw something in my direction. I lost track of it before it landed, but its effects were easy enough to see—vines suddenly sprouted and grew, supernaturally fast. They lashed out at Rose and she was forced to rear back to avoid being entangled by the thorny mass.

Only my death grip on the saddle and my bond with the Puca kept me from being thrown off into the woods. Even as I teetered on her back, she whirled on her rear legs and shifted her body to avoid the writhing mass and keep me in place.

Then, to my horror, the vines began to pull themselves closer.

Rose broke into a trot to try to circle around the mass of tendrils, but both she and I underestimated their speed. We had barely gotten more than a dozen feet of distance from the plant-thing before several vines wove themselves together into an amorphous mass and launched themselves towards me.

Fortunately, we were already moving—my Puca mount reacted instantly by throwing herself forward, and this time she kept up her speed. I glanced back over my shoulder, trusting my steed to navigate for us, and watched the monstrosity Janssens had thrown as it chased us through the forest. Rather than walking on any kind of legs, the mass of vines would lash out with several tendrils and wrap them around whatever trees or branches were closest, then yank those tight to launch itself forward.

I straightened myself in the saddle and yelled, “It’s chasing us. We need to find Josina, or get back out into the open!”

I’d lost track of the witch in the darkness and chaos of our pursuit, but Rose’s senses were keener than mine. Instead of breaking for the clearing she wove through the trees in a nimble turn and—a moment later—I caught sight of a figure on foot as it ran from tree to tree.

I leaned forward and pressed myself down along Rose’s back as she swiftly closed the distance. The Puca didn’t slow until we were almost upon her—I wasn’t horseman enough to fight in the saddle, so as soon as I spotted a clear space in the underbrush, I leapt off and hit the ground running.

We’d made no move to be quiet in our approach, so the figure was clearly aware we were coming. She tried to duck behind a tree, but with adrenaline and Wrath pumping through me she had no chance to escape. I closed the last few feet at a sprint and the pounding of my boots on the uneven forest floor was joined by the sudden drum of rain crashing down from above as the storm broke.

I tore through the space between us. Wind roared in my ears as I flew forward, and while Josina did her best to dodge my charge, she wasn’t fast enough to evade my grasping fingers. I snagged the sleeve of her coat in an iron grip and attempted to throw her to the ground.

I failed.

Rather than moving the witch, I found myself spinning wildly as I rotated around something that might as well have been a telephone pole anchored deep into the ground. I lost my grip as my momentum whipped me around in a semicircle until my hip slammed into a tree with a resounding crash.

I was stunned for a moment, until my Gift suddenly roared in my head.

My head swam as I staggered around to look behind me. Whatever was wearing that coat, it wasn’t Janssens. It wasn’t even human. Another crash of lightning illuminated the shape as it began to grow and swell. The wood fabric split around the form and the tatters of the jacket fluttered to the rain-swept ground as it grew, and grew, and grew. Mud and rocks tumbled and flowed along the ground without obvious cause to add their mass to whatever horror I’d attempted to grapple until it dropped its veneer of humanity entirely. A moment later its head was absorbed into the massive barrel shape of a torso supported by two thick trunks of mud and earth. It swept two massive arms towards me and I watched in horror as its limbs grew and stretched in my direction.

I ran. I had no idea what the fuck this thing was, but I had no interest in tangling with a twelve-foot tall construct of rocks and soil. It was all I could do to keep moving as I stumbled over roots and bushes, but the pounding sound of massive footsteps behind me provided all the motivation I needed.

My head swam, and my heart thudded in my ears, but I felt oddly exhilarated. The rock creature was still chasing me, but it was slowed by the trees more than I was and its footsteps gradually faded behind me. Another crash of lightning lit up the skies, but my wild flight from the vine-thing and the chase after Josina’s decoy had disoriented me enough that I wasn’t sure exactly where the clearing was. I slowed, cognizant that I was still being pursued, and did my best to focus.

There. I felt, more than saw or heard, the approach of my mount. Rose responded to my need and, a moment later, the pounding of rain was joined by the thunder of hoofs as the magnificent shape of her black mare form burst through the trees.

I vaulted into the saddle and, without a word, we were off.

* * *

Less than a minute later, we broke past the treeline. I rose up in the stirrups to try to get a better view as Rose hooked to the right and carried us towards the center of the clearing.

Spotting Zarina was easy—though the glow surrounding her was dimmed, the wizard was still a beacon of light hovering dozens of feet above the terrain. As I watched, she thrust both her hands towards the skies and unleashed a torrent of golden flames into the air. The roiling fire lit up the distant outline of a massive bird as it banked on storm winds to avoid the blast.

I lost several moments as I stared in awe at a creature out of legend.

The impundulu was the size of a small passenger jet, and it presented a fantastic view of its profile as it tilted its wings to catch a gust of wind that it could ride out of harm’s way. A dazzling glow began to gather around it and crackle along its feathers before coalescing into a sudden bolt of brilliant blue that lashed out at the glowing shape of the flying wizard.

It didn’t connect. The bolt curved and grounded itself into one of the many metal rods that now peppered the field—Aubrette’s conjured handiwork was showing its worth by giving Zarina a defensive field to augment her own. Since the wizard didn’t need to spend effort defending herself against that strike, a moment later a second column of flame joined the first, and the two began to box in the massive bird overhead.

An abrupt change of direction pulled my attention back to ground level and the battle at hand. Rose vaulted a waist-high thicket and when we landed I managed to finally spot my bound demon ahead. She was surrounded by a haze of blue that could only be Tzila, and the two were a whirlwind of activity.

Cindy had a massive stone clutched in each hand. She’d somehow sunk her fingers into the rock and was spinning around wildly, lashing out apparently at random. She must have struck something, though, because one of the rocks she held shattered in her grip, sending fragments flying in all directions.

The cloud surrounding her rippled like the surface of a pond, but the Jinn wasn’t out of the fight yet. Four slashes of deep purple light raked across the Sin Demon’s torso, but while they shredded through her shirt, the flesh beneath remained unmarred and unblemished.

Whatever the attack had been, it wasn’t sufficient to so much as scratch the demon’s tiny physical form. It was obvious that Tzila recognized that what she was doing wasn’t working, too—rather than try again, the cloud swirled off like a funnel cloud, rising into the skies. Cindy spun once more, trying to land another hit with her remaining stone, but there was nothing there for her to hit. She let out a primal scream of Wrath and flung a rock the size of my torso at the departing Jinn, but that too failed to connect and instead soared off into the trees beyond the edge of the clearing.

My Gift suddenly flared with danger and I tugged at the reins, but Rose had already started to turn before the leather straps drew taut. She pushed into a full galloping sprint towards the center of the clearing, and I felt an a whump that was more feeling than sound when it hit me. A few heartbeats later, I was pelted by a spray of loose dirt and pebbles that peppered across my back and head. I rose up in the stirrups once more and spun to see a boulder the size of an SUV still skidding to a halt in the open field behind us.

If we’d been slower to react, if I hadn’t gotten the warning from my gift and Rose hadn’t sensed my need, it would’ve crashed straight through us. I gawked for a moment, before spinning my head to try to find out what had launched it.

It didn’t take me long. My eyes rose up above the trees as I took in the now towering form of the earthen construct Janssens had unleashed. It loomed over the battlefield, a hill in humanoid form, and I watched as another massive rock began to flow up its leg as though carried by a rising tide of dirt and soil.

And then I noticed another figure in the trees.

Standing perhaps a dozen yards from one of its feet, missing her woolen coat, Josina regarded the battle from its outskirts. She had a mass of vines draped over one of her shoulders that undulated and writhed along her back and, as I watched, she raised one arm to point across the field.

The vine-monster slid off her form and began to ooze across the field with disturbing speed. I turned to follow its path and saw Aubrette, halfway across the battlefield, her eyes raised to the sky. The Sidhe held a massive crossbow in both arms and was calmly tracking the impundulu as it wheeled overhead. She seemed to be in no rush, and despite being buffeted by wind and rain her stance remained steady as she adjusted, adjusted again, and then fired. A bolt of black metal streaked into the air faster than I could follow.

About two seconds later, a screech like thunder split the sky.

The impundulu’s massive wings flapped wildly in a sudden frantic struggle to stay aloft as Aubrette’s bolt struck true. In the dark and rain, I couldn’t see where she’d hit, but whether the bolt itself was a critical injury, the distraction it caused came at a key moment—as the lightning bird struggled to regain its control over the skies, one of Zarina’s columns of flame managed to close the gap. For a brief moment, the outline of the mythological creature was limned in golden flame, a majestic image that lit up the storm like a banner that would be seared into my mind for as long as I lived.

The bird began to shrink in on itself under the wizard’s withering assault. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster the outline of the bird grew smaller until only the comparatively tiny frame of a human remained. The body fell from the sky, buffeted by the winds of its own storm as it plummeted towards the earth.

I nudged Rose towards Aubrette, even as the Noble Sidhe began to laboriously crank the string back on her weapon to load another bolt. As we neared my sworn vassal I again leapt from the saddle. My hands slapped into the grass below to catch my momentum and as I pushed myself forward I yelled to be heard over the rain, “Axe! Quickly!”

The redhead didn’t hesitate. She dropped the crossbow to the ground and thrust her right arm into the space between worlds, and when she withdrew it, her fingers were wrapped around a long wooden handle. Rather than the traditional fireman’s red, the axe was black from head to haft, except the shining gleam of sharpened steel along the very edge of the blade. She spun the weapon expertly in her hands and held it out to me as I approached.

I reached out, snatched the weapon, and spun in place. My Gift had already begun to thrum in my head and I charged forward towards the source of oncoming danger.

It wasn’t a moment too soon.

A large bush no more than fifteen feet away was ripped from the ground by the writhing mass of vines as it approached. The plant creature must have been growing as it crossed the field, because it now had a tightly wound central core several feet across that was covered in some kind of greenish-brown warty bark. From that emerged dozens of long tendrils covered in wicked looking thorns, which lashed around and slapped into the ground as it pulled itself closer.

As I stared it down, I deliberately drew on both my Gift—and my bond with Cindy.

White-hot Wrath filled my mind. My vision narrowed to a single point of focus as I stared down the creature the witch had dispatched to strike down my vassal. This… thing, this fucking plant wanted to harm Aubrette.

I screamed, unthinking, and stepped forward to meet it.

My Gift guided my steps, while Wrath gave them purpose.

I felt a vine lash out. Its thorns pierced my back, but the damage they caused was minor.

I ignored it. Instead, I swung the axe to my right with one hand without looking. The blade slashed through with minimal resistance.

Another vine slapped at my waist and tried to wrap around me. I felt pinpricks of pain that only fueled my anger.

I slashed in a wide, wild arc at waist height and the tendril around my waist went limp.

Another vine slapped at my calf in an attempt to trip me. I planted that foot and stepped forward with the other, and my vision filled with lashing green and dark thorns.

I raised the blade of the axe above my head, both my hands wrapped around the black haft. The plant-creature tried to envelop me, tried to bind my movements.

It failed to even slow me.

My mind followed the path my Gift laid out, and the head of the axe fell like a meteor.

Every single vine the plant monster had wrapped around me shuddered, then went abruptly and eerily still.

I looked down. The blade of the axe had slashed through the direct center of the heart of the creature and only stopped when it had buried itself nearly a foot into the ground.

I raised my head, heart pounding, adrenaline surging within me, urging me to action- but there was no action to take.

I scanned my surroundings. There was no sign of Tzila—no blue cloud, no humanoid Jinn—and the skies overhead were beginning to calm. The rain had already started to thin, and the light of the sun was just beginning to peek through from above.

My eyes fixed on the earthen construct, just in time to watch as one of its legs exploded. Rocks and dirt were sent flying as though it had been struck by artillery—though as they rained down on the clearing they revealed the truth of the matter.

A tiny, mud and dirt covered form—tiny by comparison—stood in the fresh mound of dirt that had been the thing’s leg.

Cindy was already reorienting herself to leap again as the earthen titan teetered. It had been preparing to throw another massive boulder, but that weight at the end of its enormous arms now acted to pull it off balance.

She didn’t give it the chance to recover. The Sin Demon leapt again, and this time she launched straight through the thing’s torso. There was another explosion of dirt and stone as she burst through. Even while jumping through a sixty-foot tall creature made of animated earth, the tiny blonde managed to clear the tops of the trees before her arc crested and she began to plummet back to the ground, and the shock of that sight was enough to finally push through my pounding adrenaline and snap me back into the moment.

Holy fuck, how strong was she?

The boulder crashed harmlessly to the ground as the titanic earth creature was bested by a five-foot, ninety pound blonde in, as far as I could tell, two hits. It crumbled into mounds of loose soil, animate no longer.

The rain slowed to a chilling mist that lingered in the air and clung to our skin with every motion.

Aubrette approached me on Rose’s back. Despite her exertions, the tall Sidhe looked calm as her Puca mount trotted closer, and she extended a hand down towards me. I accepted it and with her help I was soon seated behind the redhead in the saddle as she guided us towards the mound of dirt—and the Sin Demon now sauntering across the meadow towards us.

Cindy’s outfit was in tatters. Her jeans ripped in several places, her shirt hung on by a few loose threads, and her shoes nowhere to be found. She was covered in dirt from head to toe, with only a few patches of skin visible where she’d started to brush herself clean.

She also had a smugly satisfied grin on her face, and showed no signs of having sustained a single injury.

Zarina hovered about ten feet above the ground as she searched the area.

Rather than chase her down, once we reached Cindy, Aubrette and I dismounted and we took a few moments to go over ourselves and check for injuries. My Puca mount had a few superficial scratches along her haunches from our mad dash through the woods and a brush from the plant creature that had been closer than I’d realized, while the Sidhe was soaking wet but unharmed.

I actually turned out to be the most injured thanks to the embrace of the plant creature. I had a handful of lacerations up my back, several scratches along my midsection, and four oozing puncture wounds in my leg. I’d barely noticed them at the time, but Aubrette pointed out that blood was seeping down my leg and starting to pool in my brand new hiking boot.

The tall redhead spent the next several minutes tending to me. She first conjured a simple overhead canvas canopy to provide some shelter from the rain, then sat me down on a folding cot so she could adequately clean and dress my injuries.

I was still on my back with my leg in the air when Zarina returned. The wizard gracefully touched down and the glow around her faded as she announced with some obvious frustration that she couldn’t find the body of the impundulu. She’d watched Tzila flee and there was no sign of Josina, leaving us the victor of this battle but without having eliminated either of the witch’s powerful Bargained creatures. Worse, we’d revealed a substantial amount of information about our capabilities in the process.

I drew in a deep breath as Aubrette tugged my pant leg back down over my new bandages. It stung when I put weight on it, but I could still walk.

I nodded, and all five of us started preparing our pursuit.

* * *

Not far away:

I have underestimated the boy, and it is now time to leave.

That cancerous and syphilitic ballsack of a boy has somehow managed to gather a strong enough force of slaves to drop a lightning bird, drive off my favorite pet, and killed both the elemental and the ironbriar I’d unleashed. No matter that I’m finally so close to gaining the Book of Jannes, that bastard idiot who thinks with his prick is going to force me to flee.

Tzila swirls around the front of the cave. She’s been occasionally swooping into the skies to try to spot Puttman and his harpies, but I don’t want her to be spotted so she has orders to stay close most of the time. I should be working to secure what items I do not want to leave behind, but my frustration is too great.

My foot lashes out and I send a bottle flying across the cave to shatter against the far wall.

Sema should already be on his way. I signaled the Mondjoli as soon as I reached the cave, but the lazy bastard still hasn’t returned the sign to confirm, and the crystal over the irregular pool in the back of the cave is still lifeless and dark.

Fuck. I have another way out, of course, but the cost is high. Too high. For one thing, Tzila would have to travel back by air, and as fast as the Jinn is, that would leave me without her services for too long.

No, I can wait.

A while.

Another minute passes, and I stomp my way to the front of the cave.

There’s still no sign of Msizi.

I recognized the golden flames the wizard wielded. Of course Malle’s spawn would chase me. The man is a plague, and probably has progeny spread all across the Earth by now. I can only hope he succumbs to age soon.

I indulge myself in a few fantasies of the ancient man rotting away from the inside. That manages to bring a smile to my face, but only for a moment. I have sent curses, assassins, poisons—everything I can think of to bring Amari low, but still he walks this land.

There is no justice in the world.

A swirl of blue sand announces Tzila’s return from her latest trip to the skies. The clouds that had blotted out the sun have begun to drift off to the east, and the skies grow ever brighter as the noonday sun burns through.

The Jinn takes her natural form—blue skin on an otherwise human body.

I can’t even bring myself to scowl. She knows I approve of this less than her other, but this is not the time. I’ll make my displeasure known later. When I’m safe.

The Jinn believed they were the natural rulers of the world. If that were so, why then is Tzila bound to the ring? Where is her much vaunted father?

Not so superior now.

“Mistress Janssens, I believe they are approaching now. I would estimate they will arrive in half an hour.” Tzila’s report is short, and to the point. She learned long ago not to either question my decisions or suggest actions to me—I keep her for her powers, not her brains. That it took more than one lesson to drive that point home was all the more confirmation that I was right.

A glance over my shoulder sends a wave of relief through me. The crystal is lit at last. The Mondjoli will return soon to open the way home.

I will need to relocate, but it is past time to do that anyway. Perhaps I should come back—not to here, obviously, but elsewhere in this land. I have spent long—so long—in Africa. To leave it behind will be strange, but there are opportunities here, and it will place me closer to the book.

I will have to wait, of course. The Puttman boy’s guard will be up and he will expect me again. Eventually, though, he will relax. Perhaps it will take years, but I have those in abundance.

I hate being patient, but at times it is the strongest Bargain of all. If I must trade years of life to accomplish my goals, then I shall.

It’s not like most of those years are mine at this point. I’ve hoarded the years I’ve gained, and have many, many more remaining.

Someday, I will make the boy pay me for every day he forces me to spend.

But not today.

A rustling sound catches my attention and I turn to see Msizi as he limps into the space before the cave. His white shirt is stained with his bright coppery blood and he clutches one hand to his ribs, and my head shakes sadly. “Msizi, boy, you were meant to stop them.”

I wait until he parts his lips to answer me, before I squeeze the small doll in my pocket, then watch as his body twists in pain. My fingers remain clenched around the doll for a few more moments until I am certain my point has been driven home, then ask, “You said you were more than a match for a wizard. What happened?”

The impundulu is bent nearly in two, and his voice cracks, but he manages to answer. “Mistress, most wizards I could best. Man tires, and a man who fights a storm loses. This wizard, though… she knew. If she is not a Malle herself, she was trained by one.” His tone is short—short enough to catch me off guard, even. I didn’t realize he had this much fight left in him.

I also didn’t realize the impundulu knew that family by name. Still, I keep the surprise off of my face—it does not do to show weakness. “Go on.”

He does. “More, she was helped by the redhead. I have not seen her likes before. One on one, even with a Malle trained opponent, I would have won. This time, I could not.”

The impundulu meets my gaze as I stare him down, his face still twisted in pain.

There is something there, in his face, but I cannot see what it is.

Before I can gather myself to give an order, he suddenly speaks again. “I have a plan. Mistress, I see Sema is not here yet. If you will permit me, I will go and delay them. I can give you time to escape in safety. But-” He pauses briefly, and it’s all I can do not to roll my eyes at the theatrical delay, “-I cannot attempt it as I am now, bound by our current Bargain. If you will break it, I will make a new one with you: I will try to delay the wizard and her companions so that you may escape, and in exchange you release me from the rest of my obligations.”

My eyes narrow as I consider, and he swiftly adds, “If my plan is to work, I must go now. I do not mean to rush you, Mistress, but time is short.”

I sigh. Much as I want more detail, Msizi likely has a point about time. Puttman will arrive soon, and if Sema isn’t ready yet, it will cost me dearly.

It was a pain to find an impundulu to Bargain, but he has little curse left. I have already received most of what I Bargained from him. And he is always so helpful, so eager to please—a blessing in more ways that one. Accepting his offer will cost me only a few years of his service, and that is a far less than what I must pay if the boy and his whores catch me.

I reach to my side and pull the short knife I keep sheathed on my belt. The tip traces along the skin of my palm, caressing a scar so old and weathered that I barely feel the sting. It takes a moment for a thin trickle of blood to ooze to the surface, but a trickle is all I need.

Shaping the Bargain takes only a few moments before I hold out my hand. “You will carry out your plan to the best of your ability, to buy me the time to escape. In exchange, our previous Bargain is concluded and we are both freed of other obligations.”

Msizi knows how this part works. His hand all but engulfs mine as he clasps it, then releases. His fingers cover his face as he smears his lips with my blood. “Of my own accord, I agree.”

The weight of a new Bargain settles around my shoulders, almost comfortable by now. It is almost enough to ward off the empty chill that fills my gut as the old Bargain leaves me.

He wastes no more time—a few limping steps into the clearing, then he squats down and changes. Unlike many who change their shape, the impundulu’s transition is instantaneous and dramatic. One moment he appears to be a young Black man, the next, there is a flash of blue-white and a bird fills my vision.

He says not a single word before flexing his legs and launching himself into the air.

I nearly stagger as the wind of his take off pushes me back.

Inconsiderate whelp.

I will remember that.

The massive bird wheels slowly to gain altitude and the air pushing against me lessens. I take several more steps back into the cave to escape the fresh fall of cold rain his wings leave in their passage.

A moment later, he is out of sight. I turn and move towards the pool.

When Sema arrives, I should be ready. There is little here that is worth retrieving, but I spend a few minutes picking through, searching for any items of note until they are piled at my side.

Just as I am sorting through the last crate, Tzila’s voice rings airily from the front of the cave.

“Mistress, whatever Msizi had planned, it does not appear to have worked. Jack Puttman and his retinue will arrive shortly.” The Jinn’s tone is short and direct. For all her faults, the ability to get to the point has never been one of them. Between that, and the fact that she is bound to me more deeply than any Bargain, she has become one of my favorite servants.

She was well worth the lives I traded for her.

Plus—unlike that wretch Ayoka—Tzila doesn't sit around lamenting her position, she simply fulfills it.

Consumption upon that simpering specter, let her join her dead husband and suffer it in hell. And cancer upon Msizi if his grand plan lasted only minutes.

Useless, the both of them.

“Tzila, hold them. No matter what you do, the demon must not reach me!”

The boy and the wizard are human, and the tall redhead woman—whatever she is—doesn’t seem as much of a threat, but I saw what happened when the Sin Demon got her hands on my elemental.

No Bargained lives will restore me if that thing has its way.

The rest of what sits in the crates here can rot. Clinking and clattering fills the cave as I toss the bottles and cases I have gathered into a bag and set it down by the pool of water in the back of the cave. Already, the surface has begun to swirl—the Mondjoli’s transit is nearly complete, and I am perhaps three minutes from safety.

A glance to the front of the cave reveals that is far too long. Tzila rushes forward as a cloud to hold off the oncoming group, but they are close, far too close.

My fingers dip into a pouch at my side and pull out the small clockwork device nestled in soft cotton there, but my eyes do not leave the oncoming four.

The Puttman boy is at the front.

Idiot.

Surrounded by thralls, but he must prove he is a big man and go first. No one with balls that much bigger than his brains should have the Book of Jannes.

Malle’s spawn is in the center of the group, and her hands already glow with the accursed man’s teachings as she wards off the sirocco winds Tzila brings to bear.

The redhead brings up the rear with spear in hand, but it is the demon my eyes seek out.

Tiny. Nude. Unconcerned with the cold. Her bright gold eyes fix on my face and a chill runs through me.

I have never been face to face with a Sin Demon before. Those eyes—nothing I read prepared me for them. She smiles at me, but there is no joy in it, and I have to suppress another shiver.

She is the true threat, but the wizard is tying up Tzila, so I must deal with her first. The gurgle of water behind me tells me that I will be safe in moments, so moments are all I must buy.

This day will not end in my death.

As Tzila dives for the demon, I fling the small sphere of gears directly at the wizard. She responds predictably with a disk of golden runes to block its path.

Fool.

A cackle escapes my lips as Jorinde’s Witchbane unfolds. The fragile metal shatters when it strikes the disk, leaving a translucent red lotus in its place. The glowing plant releases pale gray roots that begin to twist and burrow into the Arcane construct the wizard tried to use to defend herself, and the wizard’s spawn begins to scream in pain.

Puttman himself does not so much as look back at his pet wizard. Perhaps the boy is more deserving than I thought. As the wizard’s barrier fades from view, the demon and her master break left and right, keeping a wide birth around the glowing pink flower.

Tzila moves to intercept the Sin Demon as commanded. The hints of purple within the blue tell me she is exhausted, but the ring compels her and she must obey.

The redhead moves to assist the screaming wizard.

Only Puttman remains. The man’s steps are light and easy, and his eyes fix on me. A chill runs through my body as I meet them.

Tzila’s description- she did not do him justice. She spoke of a soft and gentle man, weak. Overly cautious.

The man who walks now moves lightly, does not seem to care about the others with him. His face is oddly placid and unchanging.

I sneer as he approaches and take a step to the right. It requires some work to keep my eyes away from the dark patch of stone between us, but I have no desire to give him any warning. My right hand snags the straps of my bag as I call out in the boy’s native English, “Idiot. You could have been rich and gained an ally. Now you have neither. I will end you, Puttman. I have lived for ten of your lives, and will live for a hundred more. I have buried better and more powerful men than you and watered their graves with my piss. Give me the book and I will let you live out your days.”

I am stalling for time, and I suspected Puttman knows it. His mouth remains unmoving as he approaches, his expression fixed and unchanging. He strides forward forward and closes the gap between us.

Exactly as I hope.

His foot touches dark stone, and it welcomes his arrival. Dark tendrils ooze up from the ground and lash out to wrap around his feet. The ground roils and what looks like wet stone envelops his leg to the knee.

I do not fight the sneer. That ooze is one of my favorites—its parent lives in a jar at home, and I will have to harvest some more children for next time. It may not kill him, but it will leave some scars and—if I’m lucky—might even cost him a leg.

Except-

He continues walking, unconcerned.

The acid should be eating away at his flesh, but his face—he doesn’t even flinch.

My eyes grow wide as he closes the distance between us. “I- what- what did you do?”

He should be screaming in agony as he fights to keep the his leg, but the gray tendrils release him and lash out as though searching.

That horrible flat mask of a face turns to regard me dispassionately.

The sound of water rushing behind me as the pool begins to bubble is a welcome one. I back towards it but cannot take my eyes off the approaching man. His steps quicken, and I hold up my hands to ward him off as I stumble backwards towards the safety of escape.

My left hand is closer to the boy and I thrust my palm at him, trying to push him back.

His arm moves in a blur, faster than my eye can follow, and there is a sickening wet pop.

My-

My arm is gone.

Pain roars in my head. The boy’s fingers are wrapped around the forearm, but he casually tosses it aside to bounce across the smooth floor of the cave.

What-

What is-

My foot hits water and I fall back into the pool. My breath escapes me in a rush, and when I try to breathe in again, water fills my mouth.

What did the boy do?

I am falling, sinking, my vision going dark. I thrash as strong arms wrap around me.

I try to cough, but there is no air in my lungs.

The light above grows more and more distant, and through the roiling surface of the pool, just before darkness takes me, the last thing I see is the unchanging face of Puttman staring down at me.