There was a time when Elise Anders would have considered Camila Noceda to be her best friend. The two of them met at work – Elise was a surgeon and Camila was a nurse who often worked under her – and they found an instant bond, what with their love of cheesy adventure novels and animal documentaries, as well as their hatred of the penny-pinching hospital administration. Elise was divorced – the pressures of her job meant she really wasn't all that good at relationships – and never had any children, whereas Camila was a widow and had a child.
At first, Camila's stories about Luz focused on her creativity and her unique perspective on the world. But as time went on, Camila's attitude towards Luz became harsher. Camila started seeing Luz's creativity as an obstacle preventing her from achieving the same successes of her peers, and constantly lamented that Luz wasn't making any friends and kept on getting into trouble in school. Elise remembered how difficult that time of life could be and kept on trying to convince Camila to cut her some slack. Middle school sucks for everyone; it's a cardinal rule of the universe.
But Camila wouldn't. She started to see Luz as a problem, and that, Elise realized, was a problem for her. Camila was absolutely certain that if Luz was truly having difficulties in school, she'd tell her. After all, who else did she have to tell? No, to Camila, Luz was just acting up out of spite, and that was the end of it.
In retrospect, she realized she was probably being unfair to Camila. Elise didn't have all that clear a picture, but she surmised that Camila's extremely violent attack on Luz's middle school principal was an indicator that Camila had belatedly come to blame him, not Luz, for Luz's issues. It was likely that there was failure to communicate on both sides, that Camila was just driven towards harsh judgments by stress. But at the time, all she saw was a parent who was venturing into darker waters, and Elise was not interested in following her.
The last straw was when Camila had enrolled Luz in Reality Check Camp. Elise didn't know anything about the camp specifically, but in her mind, even the name itself was a gigantic red flag. The brochure that Camila had shown her wasn't all that encouraging either, what with the prominent image of a child inside the box. Trapped inside the box. Elise had jumped to some conclusions at that point, assuming that Camila was homophobic and had sent her daughter to a conversion camp, and she'd just dropped all contact with her cold turkey.
Camila tried her best to resume contact with her, but Elise dodged all her attempts at friendship. As far as Elise was concerned, Camila had crossed a line, especially when a later investigation revealed that Reality Check Camp indeed was a conversion camp. And then things got absurdly strange.
Because Luz revealed magic to the world. It was definitely magic; Elise was never one to deny what was in front of her own eyes. And then she revealed that Camila was the Queen Mother of the Boiling Isles. And also that Camila also had a secret demon son that she'd never mentioned? Elise was kind of fuzzy on the details there, frankly. And also that she herself could do magic.
That was when Elise decided to reevaluate the conclusions she'd jumped to. She had absolutely no clue how Luz or Camila had become extradimensional royalty. What she did know was that no one who willingly sent her daughter to a conversion camp would start doing magic herself, get involved in a relationship with two witches, and become Queen Mother of the Demon Realm. Camila had to have been deceived into sending Luz to the camp somehow – probably by Luz's principal, given the fact that Camila had gone berserk on him.
Elise resolved to reconnect with Camila, but before she could get the chance, Camila was fired. It was ridiculous. Camila had served the hospital loyally for as long as she could remember. Even after Elise had lost faith in Camila's parenting, she could not truthfully say she had acted with anything less than the utmost in professionalism throughout her tenure there. Yet she was just cast aside like yesterday's garbage. Elise was almost tempted to resign in protest, but how could she be certain anywhere else she went would be a less hostile environment?
She was just going through all these thoughts in her head when she was called urgently to the ER. Very urgently. Running all the way, Elise practically leaped through the doors and then almost fell to the ground when she saw the extraordinary scene before her.
There was a dragon in the ER.
There was also a very significant chunk of the outer wall missing; the dragon had just smashed through it. Granted, it didn't seem small enough to fit through the door, but Elise could only imagine the manifold ways the administration would take this out on them later. Elise could not believe that a frigging dragon was before her. At least it wasn't breathing fire on anyone.
Help her, the dragon called out telepathically and Elise jumped in shock. The dragon deposited an elf girl – a witch, Elise was pretty sure the nomenclature was – on the floor with extreme gentleness. There was a gunshot wound in the girl's chest. "Prep for surgery, stat!" Elise called out, trying to keep her voice even. Of course, doing surgery would be difficult when she had no idea what this girl's anatomy even looked like.
"She was shot in the bile sac," a voice called out, and before Elise's eyes, the dragon transformed into a male witch. "It's an organ next to the heart. It's extremely critical – it's the method by which witches wield magic. She could die if you don't save her! Um, does anyone have some sort of a knife?"
Much to Elise's shock, a receptionist handed over a penknife to the shapeshifter, and he (?) proceeded to slice his own chest open. Loud shrieking sounds erupted from absolutely everyone, including Elise. "Oh my Titan, you humans are such crybabies; I got exposed to injuries ten times worse than this by the time I was five." The shapeshifter just shoved his own skin apart as if it wasn't causing him any pain whatsoever, and showed Elise what his internal organs looked like.
Elise wouldn't have gotten to where she was today without a strong constitution and an ability to roll with the punches. So she proceeded to take copious photographs of the shapeshifter's anatomy. But she knew that after she got off work, she'd drink until she lost consciousness, and the nightmares from seeing this would haunt her forever. After she was done, the shapeshifter cavalierly transformed into some sort of snake creature, his injuries seeming to heal along with it, and plopped himself down on a chair.
"One of my girlfriends, Clara MacKinnon, was shot in the leg," the shapeshifter informed everyone, sounding slightly worried but otherwise calm. "Let me know when she gets here. Until then, I'm gonna take a nap. Healing that injury took a lot out of me." And with that, he closed his eyes and was presumably out like a light, if what Elise presumed was snoring was any indication.
Elise took a few deep breaths. "Well, this is going to be one for the books." And then she had Amity put on a stretcher and prepped for surgery, because magic, shapeshifters, and nonhumans aside, Elise had taken the Hippocratic Oath and she was going to do her goddamn job.
Someone was crying, and Amity was getting annoyed. She'd been enjoying a perfectly pleasant dream where Luz and her were astronauts in the International Space Station, and she was just at the part where they were about to become the first people to dress up and travel in zero gravity when she was abruptly torn from the dream by that damn crying.
"Would you stop it?" she called out in annoyance, and she opened her eyes, and she was in a hospital room. Next to her, Edric was sitting in a chair, in his real form, crying over her. "Ed, for the Titan's sake, stop crying! I don't interrupt you when you're dreaming about Jerbo!"
Hang on a second. What was she doing in a hospital room? Amity thought back to the last thing she remembered and oh Titan, she'd been shot. She'd been shot in the bile sac. Oh, man. This was bad. Well, at least she was alive, so that was good, right? "You're awake!" Edric called out, looking like he was witnessing a genuine miracle.
"Luz!" Amity said, sitting bolt upright in her bed. Her first instinct was to run straight to Luz's house, but was wearing a very sheer outfit that didn't even have a proper back. If she got out of the bed, Edric would be able to see her butt, and Amity was very against that idea. "Is she all right? What the hell happened?"
"Oh, Amity, you were shot in the bile sac!" Edric said, sounding as if he was barely holding off from crying. "And it was all my fault!"
Amity furrowed her brow. "You shot me? I'm sure I'd remember that."
"No…but I should have been there to protect you! But, no, I decided to stay at home! Like the idiot that I am!"
Well, this just would not do at all. Self-pitying Edric was like a crime against nature. It went so against his regular way of doing things that it was frankly ridiculously disturbing. "I told you to stay at home, Edric, remember? So are you calling me an idiot?" She had asked Edric to stay at home because she was worried he'd make a fool of himself flirting with Luz's high school classmates, and, honestly, because she was worried about him telling them embarrassing stories about Amity's youth as well.
"No!" Edric said, his eyes wide with horror. "I would never." Well, that wasn't good either. A dead serious Edric was a sign that things were very bad.
"Edric, what the hell happened to Luz?" Amity demanded. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing happened to Luz," Edric said. "Eda rescued you all. Um, Vee's girlfriend – not Willow, the other one, I can't remember her name – got injured, and so did Luz's friend Caroline. But they're making it through."
Amity directed her most ferocious glare in his direction. It didn't look all that impressive when she was wearing that ridiculous outfit. "What. Happened?"
Edric winced and braced himself, and said, "You can't do magic anymore!" Amity blinked a couple times. "Yeah, sorry, Amy. Your bile sac was shredded. They're…um, saying that if you do even the smallest spell with it…there's a very good chance you'll die. Um, it's possible we could do a transplant at some point…but the odds of you surviving that would be…iffy. Hey, but you can still use glyphs, right?"
She couldn't do magic anymore. She'd never be able to cast another bard spell. Or abominations spell. She was now completely and utterly useless to Odalia…and that meant she didn't have to be afraid of her anymore. Once Odalia learned she was magicless, if Amity fell into her clutches, she'd simply kill her. And, honestly, that was very low on the list of Amity's fears. Far more worrying was having her memory being messed with, being forced into hurting Luz. Forgetting Luz. Forgetting that she'd ever been free. She didn't have to worry about that anymore.
"I can't be her heir anymore," Amity whispered, a huge grin on her face. "I'm free!"
Edric's eyes lit up. He hadn't made the connection before. "Yeah! Oh my Titan, you're right! Amity, you're gonna be okay!" And then his face fell. "But I'm not. I can still do magic, remember? She'll settle for me or Emira. Probably me, because I'm easier to manipulate."
Amity reached out and squeezed Edric's arm. "It's gonna be okay. But I need to talk to Luz! I know her. She's blaming herself, isn't she?" Edric gave her a look that indicated that she had just asked a very stupid question. "Okay, I need to talk to her as soon as possible, then."
It turned out that she'd been unconscious for a few days. It was almost astonishing that Luz's peers were so bloodthirsty and savage that they were ready to burn her to death. Seriously, what was wrong with some people in the Human Realm? At least Havik's scheme to turn Eda against humanity failed, since Luz had been able to tell her exactly who had been responsible. And Odalia was probably bereft of Havik's resources, though it was unclear whether this would make her more or less dangerous.
Even though she felt well enough to leave the hospital right that moment, it would be another day or so before she was discharged, and she was stuck in her bed. Stupid hospital. First they fire Camila, then they imprison her. What was next? At any rate, the next visitor she had was Luz.
"You're blaming yourself," Amity said immediately upon seeing her, "and I will not be having that. As your awesome girlfriend, I hereby command you to stop forthwith!"
Luz couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Easier said than done," she said in a wry tone. "I know, Amity. Everyone's been saying it wasn't my fault. Even mami said so, and she swore she'd hang it over my head if things went wrong. But…I still led you into a trap, because I was dumb enough to believe I could ever be popular!"
"Luz, no one could have foreseen this," Amity argued. "No one. Look, yeah, everyone thought this party was bad news. But, I mean, I thought they were just gonna laugh at you or something! I didn't think they were going to try to kill you! I mean, who does that?!"
Luz nodded. She'd already accepted these arguments consciously; it was just that her subconscious mind was taking a while to catch up. Well, Amity would repeat herself however many times it took to sink in. She genuinely believed what she was saying; expecting a literal ambush at an ordinary teen party – especially one supervised by adults – was absolutely ludicrous. "You know…it kind of feels like one of those careful what you wish for situations. I mean, pretty much all my major bullies are under arrest now for what they did to me…and Erik is flat out dead…but it came at the price of this. Edric told me about your bile sac."
Amity shrugged. "I mean, it sucks. Don't get me wrong. But...I'm not defined by my magic. Not anymore. There's lots of things I can do with my life that don't involve magic. You know what I want to do? I want to be a pilot. Yeah. That sounds like it'd be awesome. And it doesn't need magic at all!"
Luz grinned at her. "I think that sounds awesome."
"Caroline and Clara are doing okay?" Amity asked.
"Caroline's fine. The stab wound missed the arteries, thank God, and she's got a badass face scar now." Amity noted that Luz left out Clara, but that was likely because she didn't want to talk about the ex-bully, not because Clara's injuries were particularly serious. "I swear, when I see Havik again, I'm gonna kick his face in!"
Amity had no objections to that. She felt guilty herself about how things had ended up at the party. She wished she hadn't persuaded both Edric and Agent Johnston to stay home. Selling Agent Johnston on the idea of staying home was much easier than she had anticipated. Of course, he had objected at first, but after Caroline joined in, he caved on the grounds that there would be a law enforcement officer present at the party and that Caroline deserved to go to her first party with the cool kids without her father embarrassing her. But then again, if Agent Johnston had gone, he could have been injured or even killed.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Luz asked.
"Get me out of this damn hospital," Amity responded immediately.
Luz gave an apologetic grin. "Yeah, sorry, no can do. Maybe I can take you on a little walk?"
Amity raised an eyebrow. "You'll have a heck of a time convincing the nurses to let you do that."
Luz's grin turned more Eda-like and she used illusion glyphs to make Amity look like Willow, her clothes look normal, and then, when Amity got out of the bed, another glyph to create an illusory copy of Amity sleeping in the bed. It was so lifelike that it even emulated her heartrate. Then she used a construction glyph to temporarily put a hole in the outside wall, so they wouldn't run into Agent Johnston. "Shall we?" Amity took Luz's hand, they walked through the hole, and then Luz sealed it up.
It had all seemed so simple back when Swaard and Arend had planned out the party ambush. Arend was starting to have considerable doubts about the reliability of his partner in crime, so he asked Swaard for plans to move forward that didn't involve Odalia. Swaard eagerly proceeded to brainstorm. He found Odalia to be unreliable in the extreme and psychotically deranged to boot. It was dangerous to center their plans around a woman in the first place, let alone someone so volatile. At any rate, Odalia's ultimate plan for provoking the war seemed…rather extreme. Swaard had no problem with killing people, even large numbers, but the more people one killed, the more complications would arise, and an enormous number of people would die in Odalia's plan. He was also worried he might be one of them.
So he decided that the sensible option would be to just get rid of Luz and all her friends in one fell swoop. Once they were dead, Odalia could be killed with no issues. Her mind magic was powerful, no doubt, but it would be child's play to kill her. All Swaard needed was a sniper rifle, and he could put a bullet into her head before she could even think about casting a spell in retaliation. More to the point, Luz's death at the hands of humans would enrage Eda to the point where she'd eagerly declare war on the human realm…especially with "Agent Johnston" publicly lying that the American government had commissioned the assassination.
It was almost disturbing how easy it was to gather people who hated Luz and convince them to commit the murders. There was certainly no love lost between Luz and much of the community. Odalia's lies, as silly as they sounded, also helped considerably in that regard. There were certainly a lot of things people wouldn't otherwise do that they would do if they thought they were serving a holy cause. Well, the adults did. The kids were just following their lead or acting out of hatred for Luz and/or witches.
But the whole thing had unraveled when it turned out that Eda had been spying on the party the whole time. The bugs in Luz's house had indicated otherwise; Eda had specifically promised to Camila not to interfere in the party. Swaard should have realized that Eda wouldn't keep her promise. That was on him. And not only did Eda save everyone, the plans to frame the humans were useless now, because Arend, being the showman that he was, just had to make a personal appearance. Swaard would have advised him against it if he had known Arend was planning it, which, of course, is why Arend hadn't told him in the first place.
At least no one seemed to have connected the ambush to Swaard. He had used an illusion glyph to disguise his appearance, so no one knew that they had been speaking with "Johnston." And while he was certainly in hot water with Johnston's superiors in the FBI, it was his decision to stay home from the party that was getting him in trouble, not any suspicion that he'd been responsible for the party's events. In any event, the fact that Caroline had been injured would likely buy him enough sympathy to skirt by with just a warning.
In fact, no one seemed to suspect for the slightest moment that Johnston had been replaced by an imposter at all. Swaard was no stranger to con jobs, but there was a difference between creating a false identity for oneself and stepping into the shoes of a complete and total stranger, and one that had a wife and daughter to boot. But Swaard had taken on the role of father and husband with aplomb. He was honestly quite proud of how well he was doing. It helped a lot that Johnston seemed to have been pretty distant with his family. Swaard was less distant than Johnston had been, apparently, but this had been met with happiness instead of suspicion from Mrs. Johnston and Caroline.
Now that the ambush had failed, they had no choice but to continue to align themselves with Odalia, at least until another opportunity arose. Fortunately, Odalia didn't seem to care one iota that Havik had shot her daughter; as long as she wasn't dead, Odalia didn't give a shit what happened to Amity. Granted, she didn't appear to know that Amity couldn't do magic anymore either, and Swaard was so not going to be the one to tell her.
"Agent Johnston?" a voice called out, and Swaard nearly went for his gun. But it was just the MacKinnon girl. Swaard wondered how Clara had found him, given that he'd been guarding Amity's room at the hospital for days. But then again, he guarded her most everywhere she went now; it really wasn't a stretch for Clara to assume he'd be there. "Sorry I scared you."
Swaard gave her a kindly smile. "It's quite all right, Clara. I'm just…jumpy. I know intellectually that Caroline is safe, that it was just a one-off incident, but…still. How's your leg healing up?"
Clara gave a grimace. "I mean, I can walk on it now, but I'm totally off the cheerleading squad, maybe forever. Can't do the moves I used to do." It was very hard for Swaard not to roll his eyes, but he somehow managed. "And, like, a quarter of the squad is under arrest, so it's pretty bad news for the squad overall. But I know it could have been worse."
It certainly could have. Swaard didn't normally have much respect for girls in general, much less vapid ones like Clara, but even he had to concede that her actions at the party showed valor and strength that even his contemporaries would be hard pressed to beat. She had disabled one of her peers and shot another straight in the back of the head after being shot. That wasn't something that just anyone could do. "Well, it's just a good thing you were there," Swaard responded. "Those were some excellent moves. You were a credit to your squad there, young lady."
Clara gave a short but genuine grin. "Thanks." She wringed her hands together, looking as if she was trying to figure out the best way to say something. "You've killed before, haven't you?"
Swaard froze. Did she know? It was impossible! Wasn't it? No, it couldn't be. If she knew, she wouldn't confront him herself; she have come with her basilisk girlfriend at the very least. She wouldn't have come alone. "There have been times when I've had no other choice, yes," Swaard said guardedly.
"Like…when you killed Swaard, right?" Clara asked, sounding nervous. "How…how did you handle that?"
Swaard breathed a sigh of relief internally. Of course she didn't know! The idea had been silly. This wasn't about him; this was about her. She had killed Hellinger. It was her first time killing, and since she had a conscience – a trait that Swaard had been blessedly free of his whole life – she didn't know how to handle it. So she had gone to the one person she knew had killed before in what she thought had been self-defense. Right. He could handle this. Probably. It wasn't as if he knew what it was like to feel guilty over killing, but he could guess.
"Well, Clara, it's not easy," Swaard said, trying to keep his voice light and sympathetic. "I have my doubts, every single day. But I just remind myself of all the people who would have gotten hurt if I hadn't acted." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She took a step backwards. Okay, so that was a misstep. They weren't on friendly affection terms. "Perhaps you should see a psychiatrist. Luz often raves about hers. Maybe your girlfriend has some good advice?"
Clara scowled at him. "My beloved kind of sucks at comforting people. Xe means well, but every time xe tries to comfort me with a story from xyr past, I'm just horrified by how xe was abused and the fact that xe doesn't even know xe should be traumatized by it all." Wait, was Vee just using random pronouns now? Ugh, kids these days. When Swaard was a child, things had been much simpler. Men were men and women were women, end of story. At least Avery's pronouns were words.
"The fact that you're having difficulties dealing with having killed is a good thing, Clara," Swaard assured her, going for a gentle tone of voice. "Trust me when I say that bad people don't ever doubt their actions." He could speak from personal experience there, after all. "You were forced to make a very difficult choice, but you can take heart in the fact you made the right one."
Clara relaxed. It was clear he'd taken a huge weight off her shoulders. Oddly, Swaard felt good about that. He hadn't expected that. "Well, thank you. Um…could you not tell anyone about this conversation? Especially not Vee. I don't want xyr to worry about me. Xe's already done plenty of that."
"My lips are sealed," Swaard said truthfully, with an accompanying gesture. He couldn't think of any potential gain from telling anyone at all about this conversation. Clara was a nonentity in the overall grand scheme of things. Once she left the hallway, he probably wouldn't waste time even thinking about her for the rest of the day.
"You're a good person, Agent Johnston," Clara said softly. "Thanks."
Swaard waited at least ten minutes after Clara had left to make absolutely sure she wasn't coming back before he burst out laughing.
President Lake was not a woman who had heretofore believed in destiny. She believed that humans (and now, she supposed, nonhuman sentients) made their own choices and no force compelled them to do so. If they made mistakes, no higher power was causing it. Mankind stood on its own. But now…she believed otherwise. She believed she had a destiny now, and that destiny was to lead the United States, and, to a lesser extent, the rest of humanity towards an age of magic and wonder. And, more importantly, make sure her country didn't destroy itself before it got there.
Her approval rating was officially in the soup. If she had any ambitions for running for office again – which she still did not – they would be thoroughly quashed. But Lake had not ran for president to hold onto power for as long as she could. She had run to create a more perfect union, establish justice, and all that jazz. It mattered not if everyone hated her in the process. Besides, no matter how unpopular she got, there was no way both parties in Congress would cooperate for a second, much less the time it would take to impeach and remove her from office. Ordinarily, Congress's intransigence was a problem, but there were some side benefits to it.
Unfortunately, while the United States had now formally established relations with the Boiling Kingdom, the extradition treaty between the two nations still had to be ratified by the Senate. And since neither the majority nor the minority leader were even taking Lake's phone calls anymore, that didn't likely to be happening for some time. That meant that Lake had no legal authority to have Odalia arrested for her crimes in the Boiling Isles.
And, even worse, it didn't appear that she'd committed any in the United States. True, she'd been selling the most appalling pack of lies, but she'd been very careful about avoiding actually advocating for any violence publicly. And, yes, she'd apparently messed with the memories of the princess's grandparents, but that was not, according to the attorney general, actually illegal. It eventually would be, since Congress was busy negotiating adjusting the legal code to fill in a plethora of magical loopholes, but that would take a considerable amount of time.
Havik, of course, could be arrested at Lake's leisure, since he was wanted for mass murder and conspiracy to kill Eduardo Noceda, but the problem was finding the racist bastard. He had been recently spotted in Johannesburg by a CIA agent stationed down there, and they had just been finalizing plans to pull an extrajudicial rendition when he suddenly appeared, as if out of nowhere, in the Seattle area and shot Amity Blight. The CIA was beginning to suspect that the Havik they'd been tracking was an imposter of some sort, generated through magical means. Lake was still very fuzzy on the details about what magic could do, but Agent Johnston's daughter's videos had helped clarify matters. She hoped Caroline would make more. At least the poor girl escaped with superficial injuries. A good thing too; just a couple of centimeters to the left and the knife would have hit an artery.
None of this, however, was Lake's biggest problem. Her biggest problem was none other than her vice president, Abel Thompson. Thompson had seemed like such a good choice as a running mate at the time. The senator from Wisconsin had a reputation for pragmatism and compromise, but he was just conservative enough to win over some of Lake's doubters on the right wing. But ever since becoming vice president, Thompson had taken a hard lurch to the right and openly clashed with her on a variety of issues.
This would have been problematic enough. But when Odalia gave her song and dance routine about hell to the public, Thompson fell for it hook, line, and sinker. It took Lake some time to realize this. She thought he was just positioning himself to be the next frontrunner for president. It wasn't until he actually went on the news channel that Odalia loved to give interviews on and denounced Lake for standing with the forces of darkness that Lake realized that Thompson actually believed this crap.
Lake, lamentably, was unable to fire Thompson. Constitutionally speaking, she was stuck with him for the rest of their term unless he voluntarily resigned or was impeached, neither of which were likely to happen anytime soon. Lake had cut him off from having any official role in the government, other than his constitutionally mandated role of breaking ties in the Senate. But this didn't really solve her problem any, which was her administration was not united in the slightest, and it was causing her to have serious credibility issues.
Thompson was all too happy to go on news channels and denounce the administration. He gave fiery speeches in front of the Naval Observatory demanding that the people vote his party into Congress in the midterms next year, so that they may declare war on the Demon Realm. The whole thing was just becoming embarrassing. It was making the United States look weak in the eyes of the world, and, perhaps even more importantly, to the Clawthorne administration. They smelled weakness. And while she didn't believe in Odalia's lies in the slightest, she did know that the Demon Realm's inhabitants were predators at heart.
At any rate, there was nothing that could be done, legally, about Thompson. The more important thing was to apprehend Havik and do whatever it took to convince the Senate to sign the extradition treaty with the Boiling Isles. Once Havik and Odalia were out of the picture, they'd have much more breathing room to work with.
For now, she had some damage control to do. Thankfully, Clawthorne did not appear to blame the United States for the attack on her daughter, but it was probably a good idea to make a personal appearance so Lake could smooth over any ruffled feathers. That was why she'd come to Seattle, a place she hadn't been since her campaign. The Boiling Kingdom now officially had an embassy in Washington DC, but given that its princess lived in the Seattle area, they'd established a consulate there as well.
"Madam Prime Minister, Mx. Consul General, thank you so much for meeting with me," Lake said as she walked into the office of the newly appointed Consul General of the Boiling Isles to the United States, Raine Whispers. Clawthorne was beside her partner, her face expressionless. She must really clean them out at poker, Lake reflected. "I hope you're settling into your new quarters well, Mx. Whispers?"
"Yes, it's a lovely building," Whispers said, their voice genial. "I'm so glad I have the opportunity to stick around in your country. It's truly a beautiful place, Madam President."
The pleasantries done, everyone proceeded to sit down, and give each other evaluating stares. Lake suddenly felt nervous. What if she said or did something offensive without knowing it? The culture of the Demon Realm was a closed book. "I trust your daughter's girlfriend is recovering well, Madam Prime Minister?"
Clawthorne grimaced. "Do we have to use those stuffy titles, Raine?" Whispers nodded firmly. Clawthorne let out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. Amity was severely injured. Her bile sac has been almost destroyed. That's the organ that allows us to wield magic. She probably won't be able to use magic again without dying. And I can't help but wonder where her bodyguard was during all this."
That was actually a question Lake had been wondering herself. Johnston's decision to stay at home at this party, when he'd been very consistent about guarding Amity everywhere else, seemed odd at best. There had been no prior doubts about his loyalty before. Lake had given him a thorough evaluation, concerned that the desire to utilize an agent with a connection to the Noceda family, even if it was only through their daughters, had caused people to perhaps brush things under the rug that they otherwise would have. But, no, the evaluation had come up squeaky clean.
"I assure you, Agent Johnston has been reprimanded for his decision to leave Amity unguarded," Lake said firmly. "However, he is an agent with many years of loyal service and a very effective one as well, so we'd like to request that he continue bodyguarding her. Let me remind you as well that his decision resulted in his own daughter getting injured – he will not be so lax twice."
Clawthorne and Whispers looked at each other, but it was just pretense, Lake knew. The decision had been made before Lake even walked in the room. "If you can vouch for him, Madam President, that's good enough for me," Clawthorne said after a few seconds. "But I warn you, if he falters again, I will start to wonder if it's being done deliberately."
Lake pursed her lips. "Prime Minister Clawthorne, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that the United States doesn't have a long history of interfering in the affairs of its neighbors, even backing regime change and internal revolutions at times." Clawthorne raised an eyebrow; she had not expected such forthrightness. "But those countries all had one thing in common: They were all in a position of weakness compared to the United States. The Boiling Kingdom is not. We know that interfering in your affairs is ridiculously unadvisable."
Whispers leaned forward. "I don't think your deputy shares your views on that."
Lake shrugged. "I misjudged the man. Unfortunately, I have no legal authority to fire him. And as I told you already, I can't make any promises for future administrations. But as long as I am president, your sovereignty will be respected."
Clawthorne abruptly gave her a huge grin. "Well, that's a huge weight off my back, Joanna, thanks for telling me." Lake nodded, suddenly off-balance. "Let me give you a demonstration of what'll happen if the United States doesn't respect our sovereignty, though." Lake's Secret Service agents went for their guns, and then Clawthorne made a circle and the guns turned to gold right in front of her eyes. Unbalanced by the much heavier weight of the guns, the Secret Service agents dropped them, though they scooped them up with admirable swiftness.
Lake's mouth dropped open. She'd heard rumors that transmutation was among the abilities in a witch's arsenal, but it was one thing to read intelligence reports, and another thing to see it in front of her eyes. "Which…um, which branch of magic is that from?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.
"Construction magic," Clawthorne responded coolly. "This is a nice little house of cards you've built for yourself here. The rich get richer, the poor get screwed, and those in the middle scrape up what meager scraps are put on their plate." Lake pursed her lips. It wasn't as if she disagreed with this assessment of the American economy, but she still was not happy to hear it. "Hey, I'm not judging! I'm a con artist myself! Heck of a pyramid scheme you've built here. Heck of a scheme."
Clawthorne then proceeded to pull a dollar bill out of her pocket and cast a spell on it, generating a completely identical one. "Duplication spells. Transmutation spells. They're both really basic stuff. I can crash your economy whenever I want. Billions of dollars, just tossed out into the street; gold as far as the eye can see. And all of it worth jack shit. How long do you think this country's going to last when its money is completely worthless? Not long, I'll tell you that much." She leaned forward, menace in her face. "Don't screw my country, I won't screw yours."
Whispers put their hands up, looking suddenly worried that Clawthorne had gone too far. "Of course, this is a strictly hypothetical situation the prime minister is describing. We definitely don't have any plans of doing this in the future, except as an emergency, last-ditch effort in order to stop a war."
It was not outside the realm of possibility, Lake realized then with a flash of horror, that she was completely out of her depth. It was definitely worrying. She knew that the Demon Realm's interdimensional nature made it very difficult to wage war on; all they had to do was close the portal, and none of the government's scientists had the slightest clue how to open one. But she had no clue that they'd be so effective at winning one…and they could do so without firing a shot.
"As I've stated on multiple occasions," Lake said, her voice ice cold, "the Demon Realm has nothing to fear from the Lake administration. These threats, however, are not appreciated in the slightest, though your point has been noted for the record."
Clawthorne nodded slowly. "Okay, then. Now that we've gotten the unpleasant stuff out of the way, I was wondering if my family could pay you a visit sometime soon."
"Which would constitute?" Lake asked, tilting her head.
"His Majesty, the King of Demons, misses his sister considerably, and is planning on paying a visit to her soon," Whispers explained. "We were wondering if you would be amenable to the royal family, along with the participants in the cultural exchange and their host families, visiting the White House during this time. We'd of course understand if it wasn't possible."
Lake found herself rather liking the idea the more she thought about it. She'd definitely appreciate an opportunity to meet face to face with Princess Luz in particular, as she wanted to know more about the extraordinary individual who had make all this possible. (And, though she was barely admitting it to herself, she kind of wanted the chance to talk to another Good Witch Azura fan.) A state dinner sounded like just the thing to smooth the waters over. "I think that sounds like an excellent idea," she said with a friendly smile. "I'll have my secretary of state and your foreign minister consult on that. I look forward to offering you the White House's hospitality."
Whispers breathed a sigh of relief. They had clearly been worried that Clawthorne's threat would spark a war then and there and were quite happy that everyone was now on better terms. "As we look forward to partaking in it, Madam President."
Emira could not remember a time when she'd been more angry, including the times when Odalia had hit her, the time when she was stood up to Grom, and the brief (at least from her perspective) period of time when Amity had been trapped in an enchanted sleep. Havik had almost killed her baby sister. Amity couldn't do magic without dying now! Yes, Amity herself was not bothered by it, but Emira was furious enough at the indignity of it all for the both of them.
This was Odalia's fault. It was her fault through and through. True, she had not authorized the attack, judging by eyewitness testimony from the party, or at least she didn't authorize Havik shooting Amity. But without her pernicious lies, Havik never would have been able to establish the ambush in the first place. Odalia had been making all sorts of moves since her arrival in the Human Realm, and it was finally time for Emira to start countering them.
Emira had no clue what Odalia's overarching plan was, only that it would end up killing a whole hell of a lot of people. She also had no clue how to figure out what it was or how to stop it. But she'd worry about that later. Clearly, Odalia still needed time to execute her plan, or she'd have done it already. No, Emira was going to start dismantling her plans from the ground up – starting with her manipulation of Luz's grandparents.
To that end, Emira had enlisted the help of an ultrapowerful ally: Näkijä, the undisputed most powerful oracle witch in the Boiling Isles. Näkijä was not the head of the oracle coven, but only because she hated politics and preferred teaching. She had taught for centuries, and had personally mentored Odalia as a student in Hexside. Emira did not blame Näkijä for anything Odalia had done, though; it was not her fault Odalia had misused her teachings so comprehensively. If anyone could remove the compulsions placed upon the Serranos' minds, it would be her.
At least…she assumed she didn't blame Näkijä. Yet as the two of them were walking through the castle, Emira said, in a much more plaintive voice than she thought she was going to use, "Why didn't you stop her?"
Näkijä appeared to know exactly what she was talking about. "The future is constantly in flux, Miss Blight, and there were many pathways your mother could have taken." Emira stopped in her tracks and grimaced at the usage of her name. "If your family name bothers you, perhaps you should change it. Is there another name you want to be called by?"
Emira had literally never thought about changing her name before. Which was odd, now that she thought about it. Why hadn't she thought about it? A headache blared up from behind her eyes. Näkijä blinked a few times, and then waved her hand in front of Emira's face. "How petty," Näkijä said, disappointed. "A compulsion spell was placed upon you to prevent you from considering renouncing the Blight name. I have removed it."
For a few seconds, Emira thought she was going to throw up. "I…oh my Titan. Are there…any other compulsion spells on me?"
Näkijä pressed her hand on Emira's forehead for a few seconds. "Not anymore. I sense the remnants of quite a few, but they are weak and faded. Many of them were keyed into how you would react to the head of the Blight family and since you are now the head of the family by law, they no longer apply." Emira breathed a sigh of relief. "This is very disappointing. To think that one of my students would resort to such…uncouthness."
Emira could think of many words she would rather use than uncouthness to describe Odalia's behavior, nearly all of which she'd be in so much trouble if she used around King. "Why are you helping me? I thought you were trying to stay neutral."
Näkijä looked vaguely insulted by her comment. "Miss Blight…Emira, my apologies. Emira, your…progenitrix…is an outlaw, not a political figure of any standing or power. Neutrality does not apply in this case. In any event, I taught her. I therefore have a responsibility to help clean up the messes she has used my teachings to create."
Emira nodded and started walking again. "What was she like as a student?"
Näkijä sighed. "Full of warning signs that I, in retrospect, should have seen. I am not infallible, Emira, as much as I deliberately cultivate that impression. I make mistakes, and taking on your progenitrix as a mentee was one of them. She has boatloads of magical power and absolutely no ability to use it effectively in any way whatsoever. She does not understand that oracle magic is an art, and not something you can just pump power into until you get a result."
Once the two of them were through the portal, Emira was expecting Näkijä to use some sort of illusion or glamour in the Human Realm. Instead, she just strode through the streets of Luz's hometown bold as brass. Näkijä cut a very imposing presence to say the least, with her hornless bull's head and massive frame. A lot of people whispered and even blatantly fled from her presence. Näkijä either did not notice or did not care. Likely a mixture of both.
Emira and Näkijä took the bus to Seattle, ignoring the stares from passersby. Emira had managed to sneak into the Sinclair & Broadchurch offices and read their file on the Serrano case, and in so doing, was able to figure out what hotel they were making their temporary residence in. Näkijä finally consented to let Emira use an illusion on her once they got inside the hotel, and used her magic to augment it so people not only saw two human housekeepers going about their normal business, they believed it in their hearts as well.
Näkijä simply used her bulk to smash her way through the door, knocking it off its hinges. Emira used an illusion to make it look like the door was still there; they were just going to have to hope no one investigated the scene. The Serranos let out a shriek. Emira pulled out a gun (it had been disappointingly easy to use invisibility to steal it from a human gun store) and pointed it at them. She would never have shot them – these were Luz's grandparents, after all – but they didn't know that. "No one say a word or move a muscle!" she shouted.
Näkijä stepped forward and cast a spell to put the Serranos to sleep. "This is going to be difficult. It is always very difficult to unravel an oracle spell without the consent of the person's conscious or subconscious mind. It may be some time." She put a finger. "Additionally, I will only be removing whatever compulsions and manipulations Blight placed upon them. Therefore, it is entirely possible they will continue their pursuit of custody of Miss Noceda and win as well. I am merely establishing a level playing field."
Emira nodded. "Thank you for this." Näkijä looked startled, but nodded curtly back at her. She started using her magic on the Serranos and appeared to be in a trance. Emira let her get to it. Without Odalia's interference, Camila would no doubt be successful in persuading her parents to back off, as she almost was a while back.
Your move, Odalia.
The good news was that Luz was no longer having nightmares involving her loved ones hating her, her killing them, or being carted off to a mental asylum. The bad news was that this was because her nightmares now featured Amity bleeding to death or her friends getting burned at the stake because of her. Luz had really done her best to stop blaming herself for the ambush, but it was hard, especially since she was literally the only reason any of them had been at the party in the first place.
But Dustin had told her she wasn't at fault, and Luz was actually starting to believe him. She was getting sick and tired of feeling guilty. Havik had shot Amity. Jessica and her friends had tried to burn Luz at the stake. Luz hadn't forced them to do that. She hadn't made Havik pull the trigger, or Jessica light the torch. And, honestly, it did feel pretty good to go to school and not have to worry at all about her worst bullies. Were it not for the fact that Amity was now unable to use magic without dying, Luz would actually be feeling pretty cheerful about everything. At least Caroline had escaped without any nerve damage and she thought her new facial scar was "incredibly badass."
Nonetheless, the nightmares still haunted her every night. And Willow was no help; she was an absurdly heavy sleeper and all of Luz's attempts to wake her to get her moral support had been abject failures. So when Luz was awoken in the middle of the night one evening by an even worse nightmare than usual of Amity getting burned at the stake, Luz knew it was time for drastic measures. Normally, she slept with just one of her stuffed animals at a time, but she needed all of them now.
So she opened the drawer, noting it was already slightly open, and she let out a shriek of fright at seeing what was inside.
"Hi, Luz!" King said with a wave, cradling Beaker adorably, as Luz tried to get her heart to calm down from the shock of seeing her brother. "Surprise!"