Chapter Fifteen

King sat on a cliff edge near the Owl House as the sun rose over the Boiling Sea, soaking in the first rays of dawn like he'd seen in the "anime" clips Luz had shown him on her phone. His eyes were closed and he was trying to still his mind and connect to the island, the same advice Eda had given Luz to discover new glyphs.

The theory was simple, and something he had come up with himself. If connecting to the island was not only possible for a human — a non-native of the Isles no matter how much they all loved her to death — but also provided her with insight into herself and the nature of magic, then what could happen when a demon who had emerged from the Titan's muck made that connection?

He'd tried a few things from Luz's shows already. He'd spent one night staring into a firebee fire, and Eda had laid into him when she'd found out he'd stayed up all night before letting him crash and power nap for the morning before chores. He'd tried meditating under a waterfall, but had found it difficult to breathe. Then he'd tried clearing his "chakras," but nothing happened so he'd decided it was either a human thing or complete nonsense.

King grunted as he felt the urge to wiggle his toes. His tail twitched, his head tilted … How was he supposed to do this?!

He sighed and opened his eyes to see the sun slowly emerging from the horizon. It did feel … nice under that new warmth, but it just wasn't enough. He stood up and turned to face the distance visage of the Skull, the face of the Titan.

"How am I supposed to connect to the Isles?" he wondered aloud. Part of him was tempted to just lash out with his voice and destroy something, but what would be the point? Using his voice wouldn't help him find his dad.

HE IS HERE.

King yelped and fell on his tail as the ground shook. His skull rang with the echo of that voice, the same one that had woken him a few weeks back. It was … familiar?

"What is that?" King asked himself. He looked up at the Titan's Skull again. "What's happening to me?"

"Can you tell me where we're going now?" Luz asked, holding Amity's waist as they flew on Ghost toward the stomach of the Isles. "I know you've got training with Darius later."

"You'll find out," Amity said in front of her, the wind from the flight blowing through her lavender hair. "And I think you're really going to like it."

"I'd like anything you show me, sweet potato," Luz cooed, hugging her tighter. They both blushed and Amity shook her head before deciding to make their descent. She landed them on a large boulder on a grassy plain and let Ghost retract into her true shape to land at the girls' feet and rub against Amity's boots.

"Huh, a grassy field," Luz said. "Gotta admit, it's really pretty. I haven't seen much besides trees and seas except for that thing in Latissa."

"This isn't the surprise," Amity laughed, and pointed into the distance at some indistinct, gray shapes. "Those are." She conjured a small telescope — the thing covered with scales and ending in an actual eye in true Boiling Isles fashion — and Luz took it to peer at the shapes. They resolved into …

"Are those rhinos?" Luz asked.

"Here, we call them alicorns," Amity said, smiling at Luz's reaction. "I did some research and found that they first arrived on the Isles from the human realm about a hundred years ago. All we know is that they're herbivorous, best left alone, and not native to the demon realm." She brightened her expression, as if just remembering something. "Oh! And they're also insanely resistant to magic."

"Whoa! Really?" Luz asked, eyes bright with joy. "That's incredible!" She clasped her hands in front of her face as a piece of trivia came to mind. "Funny thing. A lot of human scholars think that rhinos were the origin of unicorn myths back home. They think that people who weren't native to the place they live, Africa, saw them and wrote about these stocky, horse-looking animals with horns on their heads, and that evolved into unicorn myths."

"I certainly didn't know that," Amity admitted. "I just thought you could use a piece of home, since-" Amity blinked and shut herself up, cheeks pinking with mortification. Then she grunted as Luz tackled her in a hug.

"Thanks, Amity," Luz whispered, a tear running down the cheek that wasn't pressed into Amity's hair. "This means so much."

Amity returned the hug and the girls stood together for a while, at least until a curious, high-pitched grunt interrupted them. The girls looked down to find a baby rhinoceros looking up at them curiously, nostrils flaring.

"I don't know much about Beastkeeping," Amity said, "but I think this one recognizes someone from home."

"Aw, I wanna pet them," Luz cooed, hands clasped to her cheeks. "But I also don't wanna be trampled by an angry rhino mama, so I think I'll stay up here and settle for this." She waved at the adorable animal.

The baby sneezed and ran back toward the herd, the massive animals moving on in a great wave. Luz settled on the rock, Amity doing the same, and they watched in silent contentment as the animals whirled around in a great formation before moving along to a different pasture.

"One day I'll show them to you in their native realm," Luz whispered.

"I know you will," Amity whispered back.

In his chambers in the castle, Pythus Mawe gazed into a large, silver mirror that was clouded with the image of roiling purple fog. The elderly Kogtisty demon leaned on his upper set of arms, his palms pressed to the cool silver of the elaborately carved frame, magic funneling into the engravings to pour seamlessly into the face of the mirror.

An image of his fellow head witch Ludwig Carrol appeared, pacing back and forth while gesturing grandly to his apprentice. Though the girl's face was hidden behind her mask, her shaking shoulders indicated that she was laughing.

"A little longer," Pythus decided in his dusty voice. He focused harder and delved his mind afar, into the future. He witnessed flashes of possibilities, some clearer and thus more probable than others, until he reached the eve of the Day of Unity … and the mirror turned dark as midnight.

Pythus huffed an ironic laugh and stepped away from the mirror to write down what he'd seen in the book that hung from the hip of his belt. As he wrote, he thought about the upcoming Day of Unity that neither he nor any member of his coven could See.

As any oracle could tell you, perceiving the future with any amount of certainty became exponentially more difficult the further afield one tried to sense from their own place in time. Sight diminished after anywhere from a few days for the weak to a matter of weeks for even the strongest, best-practiced, and most well-equipped of seers.

Sensing past that timeframe meant relying merely on a sense of intuition to derive possible events from anywhere between months or years, often reached while in a trance and left to mumble rhymes or chants that often only made sense after events had transpired.

And that didn't even begin to cover narrowing down possibilities into focused probabilities. That took years of practice and experience, and even then only a handful could become truly good at it. Pythus's own talent in this art was one of the major reasons he had been appointed coven head in his mere forties.

Of course, one field of prediction was universally unforeseeable: chance.

Gambling was the great equalizer among oracles, with the spin of a die or the draw of freshly shuffled cards too quick and erratic to predict even unreliably. In a monumental piece of irony, many oracles greatly enjoyed gambling upon games of chance. The thrill of not knowing the outcome was like a drug to those whose entire lifes' works were built upon knowing what was to come.

And that, in a very real sense, was why Pythus and so many elders of his coven had put their faith in Belos's Day of Unity.

For whatever reason, be it the celestial power of the eclipse on that day or the will of the Titan, no one — not even Pythus — could see or sense what was to come on the Day of Unity. Trying left a void in the aether, as if a curtain had been drawn over that event. Belos's own vision he'd shared with the coven heads was the sole exception.

No one could tell … and so it was the ultimate gamble. Belos preached that the Day of Unity would bring a utopia when he merged the Titan with the human realm … but was he correct? Was he even telling the truth? It seemed that no one could know.

And that was a thrill unlike any other.

With his predictions written, Pythus moved to a separate sheet of parchment and began writing figures and calculations for the memory lock spell he'd had to place upon Raine Whispers. It made the old demon's stomach turn to have to do so, and to witness the migraines that had plagued the Head Bard, but he couldn't let their shortsighted attempt at a rebellion continue, even without Belos's orders.

"Even with them straining the bindings," Pythus muttered aloud, as was his habit in deep thought when alone, "they should last even past the Day of Unity." Pythus's spell had sacrificed lasting strength for short-term resilience, the thick chains making them more difficult to slip through, but also quicker to wear down. But with the Day of Unity so close, it seemed to be no concern.

"All will be ready for that day," Pythus murmured as they continued scribbling. "Whether they realize it or not."

Katya drummed her fingers against the head of her tambourine sitting on the table as she stared at the clock. She'd arrived at the Eat Street diner half an hour ago and Steve still hadn't shown up. She'd begun to wonder if the job he mentioned was keeping him late … or if she'd been stood up. Her fingers itched to summon her scroll and message him, but she'd had more than one relationship fail because a then-partner thought she was too clingy.

She started to rise to head for the door when her scroll pinged and she checked a message. Handle-4-Steve: Almost there! Don't leave!

As if on cue, there was the faint roar of a motorcycle and the screech of tires sliding to a halt. The bat hanging before the door screeched in announcement as it swung open and Steve came rushing in, breathing heavily and face flushed. He glanced around frantically before he spotted her and sighed with almost over-the-top relief.

"Oh, thank the Titan," he breathed, almost stumbling to the table. "You're still here."

"I was just about to leave, if I'm honest," Katya said neutrally.

Steve's face reddened even further, this time in clear shame. "I- Look, my, uh, superviser kept me later than expected. And we have a strict no-scrolls policy on the clock. I didn't even think to message you until I was halfway here, and-" He stopped and took a breath, stepping out of the way to the door. "If you still wanna go," he said, hanging his head, "I won't blame you. But I really hope you'll stick around."

Katya blinked and smiled before taking Steve's gloved hand in one of hers and shaking her tambourine with the other to lift his chair back, before scooping him up in it and pulling him over to sit down. "Aw, you're too cute to stay mad at," she chuckled.

"I'm cute?" he asked, eyes lighting up. "Really?"

"Cute, handsome, hot, take your pick," Katya shrugged with a flick of her wrist and a teasing grin.

"Well, you," he started counting on his fingers, "are lovely, stunning, gorgeous, breathtaking, alluring, enchanting," he tapped her tambourine with a sheepish grin, "let me know if I over do it."

"It's just right," Katya laughed, her cheeks pink.

"Hey there, sweeties," a middle-aged waitress said, a hot-pink-skinned demon with golden eyes and hair made up of long, purple tentacles. "Guess he finally showed, eh, Missy?" she said, winking at Katya. "What can I get-? Oh! Hey there, Steve. Been a while."

"Too long, Mrs. Cuttle," Steve said easily. "I'll have my old usual, please."

"Easy enough," Mrs. Cuttle said. "And for the lady?"

"The burger macabre," Katya said, handing over the menu and glancing at Steve, "with foetato fries and a shockolate smilk-shiver, please."

Mrs. Cuttle gave a faint, knowing grin at Katya as she nodded and left to put in the order.

"Nice choice," Steve said with a smile. "Like I said before, the burgers here are to die for." He snickered. "Maybe literally with all the grease they use."

"You're not upset?" Katya asked.

"Why would I be?" Steve asked, and he looked honestly baffled.

"A lot of people I've gone out with before look down their nose at a woman eating unhealthy food," she explained. "That's how I know they don't get a second date."

"Aha," Steve said knowingly. "That's a really smart trick for dumb jerks like that. And I mean, c'mon," he gestured at her, "you look amazing, so what do they know?"

Katya covered her mouth to only partly stifle a giggle. "Are you always this complementary?" She curled a lock of hair around her finger. "Because I could get used to that."

"Yeah, pretty much," Steve said, blushing lightly. "There's enough trash talk in the world. Maybe I wanna make people feel good about themselves."

Katya thought of the BATs and how they want to help people … and she placed her hand on top of Steve's. "You wouldn't happen to be a bard, would you?" she asked.

"I know a thing or two about Bard magic, but no," Steve said with a rueful smile. "Unfortunately, I'm not."

"So what do you do?" Katya asked, honestly curious. She hadn't missed his family's downplaying of his job that apparently worked long hours.

"I'd … rather not talk about it," Steve said, his smile falling. "It's kinda personal." His eyes brightened again. "What about you? What did you do before you were between jobs?"

"Well, my boss just came back from vacation," Katya said with a smile. "But they're really hush-hush about it."

"Fair enough," Steve chuckled. "What else do you do? You know, in your free time?"

"Promise you won't judge?" Katya asked, and Steve nodded. "I write fanfics about food falling in love."

Steve blinked, his smile turning bemused. "Okay. Not sure what I was expecting, but that wasn't it," he chuckled. Then his brows lowered in a thoughtful frown. "But, uh, would you call that a fanfic?"

"What do you mean?" Katya asked.

"Well, I mean, fanfiction is writing about the characters, settings, and stories that someone else already came up with, right?" Katya nodded, gaze interested. "Well, if the food falling in love thing is your own idea, wouldn't that make them original stories?"

Katya looked at him with wide eyes before smiling. "That actually makes a lot of sense." She groaned melodramatically and placed the back of her free hand against her forehead. "Oh, woe is me to mislabel my own work."

"Everybody makes mistakes," Steve laughed, taking her hand from her face and running his thumb over the back of it.

"And your hobbies?" Katya asked.

"I do origami," Steve said, taking a paper napkin and folding it into a rose. "I also work on my bike and I read some." He reached over and placed the paper rose behind Katya's ear. "Never had the guts to try writing, though."

Katya blushed, at the paper rose and the compliment. "You, uh, would you like to read some of mine?" she asked, her voice small and shy. "You know, later on?"

"Sure," Steve said, eyes bright.

Their food came — Katya's burger and Steve's usual being an audumbla steak sandwich sopping with gravy — and they continued to talk about everything and nothing between bites. Katya had already met Steve's family, so she talked about her aunt and uncle who had raised her since her parents had been killed in shale hail when she was seven. He offered up stories of Dortheabelle and Mattholomule's childhood antics, as well as his own. They discussed literature — with Katya unsurprisingly adoring romances while Steve enjoyed historical fiction — music and bardic styles, even fashion.

"Any dreams for the future?" Steve asked, taking a sip from his drink.

"You probably don't wanna know," Katya said.

"Oh, well now I've gotta know," he teased. "C'mon, there's gotta be something. You don't want to publish your works, maybe?"

"I've thought of that," Katyua admitted. "But the others are more …" She looked at him with a steady gaze. "Well, subversive may be a good term."

The base of Steve's horn throbbed like it always did when he felt in over his head, like on the mountain during the scout basic training. "Oh?" he asked, voice wobbling.

"See, I told you," Katya said, "you don't want to know."

Part of Steve knew that as a coven scout he should stand, pay for the food, and leave without looking back. But even after only a dinner with his family and a single lunch date, he knew he was really starting to like this girl. And like a spark from a struck knife, all of his doubts about the Emperor's Coven rose up, too, and were stoked into a small blaze of conviction.

"Your secrets are safe with me," he said firmly. "I swear on the Titan's bones."

Katya blinked at such an oath before taking a deep breath. She tightly shook her tambourine to form a silencing spell around them. "I think the coven system, as it is today, is a disgrace to the Titan. I think that wild magic isn't as big a problem as the Emperor says." She bit her lip before adding, "I want to show the Isles that truth, and … And I think the Day of Unity isn't going to end well for anyone on the Isles except Belos himself."

Steve kept his face as neutral as he could, though he could feel his lips tightening. Years of service and devotion to the Emperor's Coven was not easy to shake, even with the widening cracks in his faith in it all. "That's … pretty intense," he settled on saying. He turned his hand over, the one Katya was holding, and looked into her eyes. "Can I tell you a secret right back?" he asked.

Katya nodded, her eyes intent.

"I have some friends who are part of the Emperor's Coven," he revealed, deciding to stick with a half-truth. After what she'd just told him, revealing he was a coven scout would terrify her. Even though there was a small part of him that screamed to be honest with her, or even to tell someone. "A lot of them are worried about the same thing."

Katya looked at him with wide eyes before tracing a spell circle that dispersed her silencing spell. "That's enough of the heavy stuff for now, right?" she asked with a tense smile.

"Oh yeah," he agreed and dug into his sandwich again, polishing off the last few bites. Katya followed suit, mopping up the grease from her burger on a fry before smirking and reaching over to stick it between Steve's lips. He grunted in surprise before chomping down with exaggerated motions, which Katya laughed at. They talked a little bit more before Steve paid for the food and they left together.

"Care for another lift home?" Steve asked, gesturing at his haphazardly parked motorbike.

"Tempting," she admitted, "but I have some stuff I need to do for a friend."

"Fair," he decided, a blush rising as he rubbed the back of his neck. "So, uh, am I lumped in with the sexist jerks? Or … do I get a second date?"

Katya made a show of thinking it over before softly placing a hand on the side of his face and swooping up to plant a long, soft kiss on his lips. She pulled away with a soft chu and smiled at him and his punch-drunk expression. "What do you think?" she asked.

"Uh hum," he babbled, "not sure." He grinned. "Maybe run that by me again to make sure?"

Katya bared her fangs in an excited smile and did just that, placing both hands on the sides of his neck as he placed his on her waist. She kissed him harder this time, and he returned the kiss with just as much passion, and they didn't break apart until both were almost desperate to breathe.

"So that's a yes?" Steve panted quietly.

"Yes, it's a yes," Katya giggled. "Preferably before the Day of Unity."

Steve tensed at those words, thinking fiercely. "Uh, well, how about-?" He kept thinking. "Sartur's Day?" he ventured. "In the evening this time."

"Sounds great," Katya whispered against his lips before stepping out of his embrace. She ran her hands down his arms, tugging a bit at the hems of his gloves with a teasing grin, before she summoned her staff. "Message you when I get home?"

"And vice versa," he said. "See ya soon, Katya."

"Bye, Steve," she said with a flirty wink as she summoned and mounted her staff side-shaft before flying away.

Steve dispelled the chain spell around his bike and loaded up to drive away, sighing with infatuation that he was fully aware he had long slipped into and ecstatic for it. What he didn't notice was Katya watching from above as he drove away, her eyes warm. She placed a hand over her heart and felt her cheeks pink at the thought of him.

But she was also concerned about his avoiding telling her about his job, at least when coupled with his "friends" in the Emperor's Coven.

Just what made Steve so nervous about it all?

"Head Witch Whispers?"

Raine looked up from some documents for the Day of Unity — everything seemed to be about that these days — to find the Amethyst Artisan at his door. The masked girl in her battle-style gown bowed at the waist, her hands clasped at her front in a picture of demurity.

"Yes, can I help you?" Raine asked.

"My mentor asked me to deliver this," she said, offering a sealed envelope. "He said it was quite urgent. And that I was to relay the reply."

Raine lifted an eyebrow at the emphasis and took the envelope. "Thank you, Miss," they said. They sliced it open with a whistle and removed it to find what to most would appear a formal invitation to a gathering of old school friends. But the red and gold lettering of the words "old friends" made Raine pause. "Did Darius say what this was about?" Raine asked.

"He said something about concerns about wild witches trying to derail the celebration," the Artisan said. "And that he would like your expertise in helping them find what they need for the good of the Isles."

Raine looked at the invitation and then back at the Artisan's mask. She gripped the metal and slid it over to bear one golden eye. "He feels you would be like-minded in certain preparations for the great Emperor's plans?"

Raine whistled and the letter turned to ash to dust the ground.

"If you would tell your mentor that I would be happy to meet with an old friend."

"Head Witch," she said, slipping her mask back on and bowing before departing.

Raine closed the door with an amiable smile, aware that the Emperor could be watching and listening in at this very moment. 'Darius, what are you planning?' they wondered darkly.

"And so if we do this," Hunter said, tracing a final of three variant plant glyphs the width of his outstretched finger in the soil, all connected by a circle of their own, "this will happen."

Willow watched closely as Hunter pressed his fingers to one of the glyphs and then gently pushed her back to give it space. The glyphs glowed at his touch and seemed to pause before erupting into towering pummel trunk trees. Willow's eyes shone at the display of magic and she latched onto Hunter in a hug.

"They're magnificent!" she cheered.

"Thanks," he said, a blush rising. "I, uh, may or may not have been working on that particular combo for a while now."

Willow giggled and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. "You're so sweet, you know?"

"I wish I could be sweeter," he said. "You deserve it."

Hunter yelped as Willow tackled him to the ground in a riot of giggles, her conjured flowers to break their fall bursting into an equal riot of colorful petals. They landed and rolled in the grass, savoring each other's presences as they slowed and just held each other on the ground.

"So Lilith finally talked to you?" Willow asked, nuzzling her cheeks against his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

"We talked a little," he said, holding her tightly. "Surface level stuff, mostly. Complained about Belos, for real now that we're not trying to please that jerk. She apologized for treating me like dirt, I apologized for being a brat." He snorted. "With the Day of Unity looming, we decided to hold off on the real waterworks until after the fact."

"I'm just proud you're starting," she said simply, pecking his cheek. "Both of you."

"Thanks, Willow," Hunter said, his voice strained. Not long ago he would have killed to hear those words from his uncle. Willow, though, she gave them away so freely. And he could feel in his heart and useless bile sac that she meant it every single time.

"Eda and Lilith got a message from Head Witch Darius yesterday," Hunter said. "Something about a 'reunion' of old friends before the Day of Unity. Turns out he knew Eda and Lilith while he was at Glandus. Something about him playing grudgby during school and them being respected rivals from Hexside."

"Amity's mentor," Willow said. She was quiet for a moment before asking, "What was Darius like to you?"

"Condescending, mostly," Hunter admitted. "He mentioned once that my predecessor as the Golden Guard was his own mentor. Called him one of the most powerful witches Darius had ever known." He scoffed bitterly. "And with Darius's standards for pretty much everything, that's not faint praise."

"Why would he want to meet with Eda and Lilith?" Willow wondered.

"Not sure," Hunter admitted. "But Eda and Lilith seemed to pick something up from his letter. Especially since Amity was the one who delivered it in civilian clothes."

"Meaning it's either a trap," Willow surmised, "or he wants to meet with them out of Belos's sight." She thought it over. "Could he be conspiring?"

"If he is, I wouldn't turn him away," Hunter said. "He's a damned powerful witch. One of the best Abomination crafters in decades. And he's got a head for strategy, from what I hear."

Willow pursed her lips and shifted to sit up and look down over her boyfriend. "Well, whatever the case," she said, brushing his trademark forelock from his face, "the Clawthorne sisters can handle themselves." She cupped the side of his jaw in her palm and brushed the pad of her thumb over his lower lip. "Whereas we don't get time like this very often."

It was true.

With the Day of Unity barely two weeks away, Willow had been at Lady Feronia's side through thick and thin, both to avoid suspicion of the coven head's apprentice seemingly slacking in her learning and for actual help to prepare. It made Willow's belly squirm to be helping with anything Belos had planned, but she needed to keep her cover. She'd made a deal with Feronia for Hunter's life and she would damn herself if she broke her word.

"Good thing flyer derby doesn't start its season until the next term," Hunter chuckled. "That might be too much," he cupped her cheek right back, "even for a witch as amazing as you."

"Flatterer," Willow lightly accused.

"I only speak the truth, my syphara," he smirked.

Willow leaned down and kissed him. Softly, unhurriedly, and unrelentingly. She lay on top of him and moaned into the kiss as Hunter held her hips. She traced a spell circle that grew a willow tree to drape its branches over them in a curtain of privacy.

"I love you, Hunter," she whispered.

"I love you, Willow."

Boscha was panting heavily as she hurled the umpteenth flaming grudgby ball at a reinforced target behind her parents' mansion. Sweat coated her body, her bangs were plastered to her forehead, and her workout clothes were drenched, not to mention her hands were scalded from the continuous heat, but it was well worth it.

The target was pitted with grooves from the force and heat of her signature move.

Boscha brushed away her bangs plastered on her face and grabbed a water bottle to sip from, settling her pulse before she realized that she wasn't alone in the backyard. Her father sat in a large lawn chair, drumming his fingers on the knuckles of the opposite hand as he smiled warmly at her.

"Having fun, sweetie?" he asked, eyes sparkling behind round glasses.

"Still mad at mom for her thing with Kikimora?" Boscha asked.

"I'm not mad at your mother," Joen said, standing with a grunt as his smile dropped. His physique had gone to seed somewhat since Boscha was born. "I don't care for Kikimora in the slightest," he admitted, "but your mom's, er, dalliance, I suppose, did keep you out of the Conformatorium." His smile returned. "And how can I be unhappy that my little girl is still home?"

"And walking on eggshells until the probation's over," Boscha said bitterly, unwinding the bandages tied around her hands and wrists.

"Better than prison, Sweetie," he shrugged.

"What do you want, Pop?" Boscha asked, going for uncaringly distant and landing on teenaged petulance.

"I wanted to tell you in person that your mom and I are going out of town for about a week tonight," he said. "And I wanted to make sure you wouldn't throw any wild parties or anything while we're gone."

Boscha glared up at her dad. Or tried to, at least. She'd rather swallow broken glass than admit it out loud, but she'd always had a soft spot for her old man. She didn't hate her mom or anything, but she and Alyet van Aken were far too similar in temperament to truly get along. Alyet had been in competition with Odalia Yvain to be queen bee of Hexside back in the day, and that rivalry had stayed somewhat alive in the form of Boscha and Amity. Granted, they were more pressured to be friends and "combine their strengths" than to outright struggle, but their mothers had long had a game of lording their childrens' accomplishments over each other.

"I won't be throwing parties," she promised, though she kept her tone uncaring.

"That's wonderful to hear, Boscha."

Alyet approached from the house and took Joen's hand to lean her head over his own. Whereas Joen was somewhat short and more-than-somewhat heavyset, with dark magenta hair hanging in spikes that framed crystal-blue eyes creased with crow's feet, Alyet was taller and slim, with three icy blue eyes she'd passed on to their daughter and bubblegum-pink hair she wore long and with bangs.

"Mother," Boscha said, the chill in her voice no longer feigned.

"Sweetie," Joen chided lightly.

Boscha rolled her eyes and lifted an open hand. "I swear I won't get up to any mischief that would break my probation while you two are gone pretending to do business and really just doing gross couple stuff on your therapist's advice."

Joen blushed and Alyet tightened her lips before snorting. "I'll take that," she said. "Remember to take breaks from grudgby practice."

"Fine, Mother," Boscha deadpanned.

"We'll call when we get to the Toes," Joen said. He hugged Boscha, though she squirmed and otherwise chose not to fight it, while Alyet brushed Boscha's hair from her face with a small smile.

"Goodnight, Boscha."

Her parents left with that, taking the family airship as Boscha watched from a distance. She grabbed a towel and began to wipe her skin down as she headed inside for a shower … when her scroll began to go off. She summoned it and found an image of the Golden Guard's mask as the ID. With a sultry smile, she answered.

"Hey, Cutie," she greeted.

"I need your help," was his reply.

"Straight to business as usual, huh?" Boscha teased.

"This isn't a joke, Boscha," the Golden Guard snapped. She blinked at the cold anger in his voice. Normally she would have been pissed and fired back, but something else was in his voice. Desperation, maybe?

"What do you need my help with?" she asked cautiously, curiosity piqued.

"Something that's personal at the moment." He paused and added, "And not strictly-speaking legal."

"Well, I'm flattered that you thought of me," Boscha said semi-sarcastically, "but I'm on probation and really don't feel like being thrown into the Conformatorium if this goes sideways."

"You're not on probation," the Golden Guard said seriously, though there was an edge of smug satisfaction in his voice. "I settled the paperwork today. Your probation has ended early as payment for services to the Emperor's Coven."

"Oh," Boscha said blankly, her cheeks pinking at the implied use of power on her behalf. "Well, then how can I refuse?" She smirked. "What do you need?"

"I'll have all the materials ready in a few days," he said. "What I need is people. Lookouts, mostly. Plus a very specific third person for the rite I'm planning."

"Who?"

The Golden Guard said a name, and Boscha's mouth twisted with ire. "You've got to be kidding," she growled.

Chapter fifteen, everyone! Lot's of character interactions and set up for the next chapter ... which will be a doozy!

*King's last exercise of "clearing his chakras" is an intentional reference to "Avatar: the Last Airbender."

*Amity's explanation of when the rhinos arrived on the Isles coincides with a sharp decline in their numbers in the 1920s.

*Luz's comment about rhinos and unicorns is a real scholarly theory! I've been wanting to put that in this series for a while and finally found a way!

*Pythus's voice, in my mind, is the late and great John Hurt - best known to modern audiences as Ollivander from the Harry Potter films, or the voice of Killgarah in the 2012 "Merlin" series.

*Mrs. Cuttle is named after cuttlefish, a kind of cephalopod. Also, Steve's comment about "friends" in the EC being unsure of Belos's plans is based on Warden Wrath's comment at the end of "Reaching Out."

*Smilk shiver is the Boiling Isles equivalent of a milkshake.

*Steve's commentary on Katya's writings is basically my own thoughts.

*Odalia's maiden name is Morgana le Fay's son's name - it also has "vain" in it, which I think relates to Odalia quite well.

*I'm officially retconning a previous author's note in "Masks" that Boscha's grandfather was the latest full-triclops of the family - that's now Alyet. Since I never wrote it in the story, I'm revising it to better acclimate the design of Boscha's possible parents in "Thems The Breaks, kid" since i really like their designs.

As always, I really hope you liked it! Leave a review if you wish! And may your own works be as fun to read as to write!