The First of a Dynasty

by Emperor_Myrcalus

Summary:

Luz, now the Empress of the Boiling Isles, has been jaded from years of war, and is trying to reestablish order so her coming child might have a safe world to grow up in.

Notes:

Due to when I began writing this story, the fic will diverge from canon following the events of the season 2 finale. If there are things in season 3 that I want to, and feel that I can, work into the story I will do so, but I will not be attempting to crowbar in every element of season 3 into this story. Assume that elements and plot points from season 3 are either radically different in, or outright absent from, this fic, from major events to minor details.

You can find The First of a Dynasty audio version along with the other stories Sam has voiced HERE! If for some reason the embedded link doesn’t work, you can paste the following URL into your address bar: https://www.samgabrielvo.com

Chapter 1

                                                     

BANG!

Amity Blight-Noceda carefully and slowly looked up from her book. The cottage hearthfire blazed fiercely in her wife’s eyes. They were lovely eyes, always wide open, taking in the entire world and reflecting it right back. In quiet moments, Amity can see in those eyes the young, almost-irritatingly exuberant girl she had met at school all those years before. There was, in those quiet moments, a softness to those eyes, a contentment simply to be, a happiness that a young, stifled Amity had fallen in love with. 

BANG!

This moment, however, was not quiet. In this moment, the eyes into which Amity gazed belonged not to a 14-year-old human girl exploring the Demon Realm for the first wonderful time, but to Luz Noceda, Empress of the Boiling Isles, Savior of Witches and Demons, Vanquisher of The Collector, and Deposer of the tyrant and false prophet Belos. Ten years she had worn those titles, and to some people, that was ten years too long. 

BANG!

Wordlessly Amity and Luz closed their books and stood up. They walked to the coat rack to retrieve their cloaks, donning them without a word as magical spells continued to shell their summer home.

BANG!

Amity opened the door and Luz, in her flowing white cloak fringed with gold, walked out of the study swiftly and silently.

BANG!

Walking down the hallway Amity picked up the crow phone off of its holder as she passed by the table on which it stood, dialing the number of Willow’s crow phone.

BANG!

That better not have ruined the stuccos on the East Wing. Thought Amity with a frown. I just had those refurbished. Shaking her head, she brought the crow up to her ear.

*Caw Caw! Caw Caw!* “Amity?” a groggy Willow replied. “This had better not be able to wait. Hunter and I finally managed to get Jacob to sleep.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but you’re both needed in the council room. Emergency meeting.”

*YAWN…* “Gotcha. We’ll be at the castle in 10 minutes.”

“Thank yo…”

BANG!

“Wow, I bet you’re glad that you upgraded those forcefields, aren’t you? It’s almost like my suspicions that the enemy might discover where you were vacationing were not unfounded,” quipped Willow, smugness lacing her words.

“You don’t have to rub it in that you were right.” Amity replied with a morbid chuckle. “How many nights of babysitting did we bet again?”

BANG!

“Three, and you can’t pawn Jacob & Daniel off on Luz.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. All right, well, we’re about to enter the portal, so I’ll see you at the council meeting.”

“Bye, Amity.”

“Goodbye, Willow.”

At the end of the hallway stood a shimmering golden doorway, reminiscent of the one that had led to Luz stampeding into the Boiling Isles and, more importantly, her life.

Without hesitation, without slowing down, Amity and Luz walked through the portal, cutting off the sound of another spell blasting into their cottage.

 

Stepping through the portal the environment shifted from a rustic cottage to a drab, stone chamber lit with torches. A man in a white cloak, wearing a gray, beaked mask saluted them. “Your Majesties, I hope that you had a pleasant night?”

“Unfortunately, we did not, Captain Wilston.” Said Amity, not looking at the guard, but instead turning around to close the portal. ”It seems that our location was leaked." Amity then tossed the portal key and crow phone to Captain Wilston. "Please gather a team and head back through the portal to arrest the assailants and have them sent to the Conformatorium. Also, the Parks are on their way, but could you please have someone summon the rest of the Coven heads to the council room?”

“At once.” replied Captain Wilston, who immediately whisked himself away.

What followed was a silent walk through the castle. The hundreds of tapestries, murals, and stained-glass windows depicting the history of the Isles that lined the walls were all ignored as Amity and Luz headed deeper into the castle.

Coming up upon a set of double doors emblazoned with a 2-meter-wide glyph combination, Luz Noceda, not slowing down, tapped the light-glyph in the center and the doors swung open.

At the center of the room sat a circular table with 11 seats encircling it, 10 of which had a coven symbol painted onto their backs. Walking to her seat Amity let her hand graze the pink abomination brand on its wooden back. Head of the Abomination coven. Thought Amity, closing her eyes solemnly. If only Dad could see me now.

Opening her eyes Amity’s gaze shifted to the ornate, gold-fringed chair to her left, Luz’s chair, and to the emblem on its back. I wonder how King would have reacted if he learned that Luz made the Titan’s skull her family crest? Amity mused while she took her seat.

It was only a few minutes before Captain Wilston called Luz to inform her that the cottage had been destroyed. "When we opened the portal, rubble just came tumbling out. My team is almost done clearing out a path through the rubble so we can arrest the insurgents, but I worry that they may have already fled the scene, Your Majesty."

"Continue regardless, if there's even the slightest chance that they can be arrested tonight then we have to try." Luz commanded.

"Understood, Your Majesty."

Minutes passed after that call without a word spoken until, to Amity’s surprise, Luz turned to Amity, a dull pain in her eyes, and said “I’m sorry that we had to head back early, Hermosa. I know how hard you’ve been working. You deserve better than this.”

“Don’t say things like that, Luz. There is nowhere that I will ever want to be more than by your side.”

“Thanks, Hermosa. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Or I you, Batata,” replied Amity, leaning in to kiss Luz.

“I hope we’re not interrupting anything” Hunter interrupted with a smirk, as he and Willow entered the council chamber.

“Of course, you aren’t interrupting, Hunter,” Amity replied, unfazed. “Though I would like to know how the location of my wife’s summer home, which the two of us only ever enter by portal, was somehow tracked down and assaulted with a spell barrage?”

Hunter’s eyes, which sported deeper bags below them than usual, hardened. “It shouldn’t have been possible. Only the council and top coven officials were privy to that information.”

“And yet here we are. Back in the castle, mere hours into our weekend getaway, having escaped an assassination attempt,” responded Amity. “What I want to know is how that information made it’s way to the rebellion, and how soon will the people responsible be locked away in the Conformatorium for the rest of their lives?”

“Do we have any leads on how the information got to the rebels?” inquired Willow.

“Given that the attack occurred mere minutes ago, I haven’t exactly had time to look into the matter yet have I?” snapped Amity.

“Hey, don’t bark at me,” scowled Willow “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know,” Amity rubbed her temples, “I know you are. I’m sorry, I’m just stressed out right now.”

“Preaching to the choir here.” muttered Hunter.

Surprising everyone, Luz spoke up, her eyes tinged with concern “Is Jacob really that bad?”

“Psssh. Of course not, Luz,” reassured Willow. “It’s just that Jacob isn’t quite the deep sleeper that his older brother was when he was Jacob’s age, and Hunter's body is throwing a bit of a protest at the lack of sleep.”

“I can’t believe I used to function on only four hours of sleep.”

“It’s a wonder, indeed” said Willow, who gave Hunter’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

A few minutes later the remaining council members began trickling in. Once the last Coven head had taken their seat Luz tapped a plant glyph against the table causing a massive vine to burst forth from the stonework behind her. The looming mass reached across the council room and slammed the doors shut before withering away.

The gaze of Luz Noceda, Empress of the Boiling Isles, swept across the Council. Eyes of steel, framed by caramel skin, bored into the witches assembled before her. “This war has gone on for far too long. It’s time to bring peace to my Empire.”

 

 

“Approximately 15 minutes ago, a surprise attack was launched on my summer residence. While not confirmed, the likelihood of this being the responsibility of insurgents is high. As such, I am proposing the distribution and mandatory use of spell and location logging bracelets alongside the implementation of a program of spell auditors to monitor for suspicious behavior.”

Augustus “Gus” Porter, head of the Illusion Coven, remarked “Should I also hand the insurgents their next propaganda campaign, because that’s what this scheme will amount to.”

Hunter added “I have to agree with Porter on that. Our support amongst the people is already slipping, and I can’t imagine this action being painted as anything other than a step towards the reintroduction of coven brands.”

Boscha huffed “We don’t need bracelets or brands. Give me the word, Empress, and I can have the factories synthesizing truth potion within the week.”

The outrage was immediate. “We’d be descending back into barbarism!”

“You’ve gone too far, Boscha!”

Amity Blight-Noceda slammed her fist down on the table “Do you want us to return to the days of Belos, because that’s what it sounds like, Hollowleaf!”

“Difficult times require tough choices.” Shrugged Boscha, a nonchalant tone infused into her words.

Hunter glared “Be careful with what you say, Hollowleaf.” To which Boscha raised two of three eyebrows.

“Oh? And how about you be a bit more specific when you’re threatening me, Witteba-” Thick, fibrous vines shot out from across the table, and coiled around the Potion Coven Head hoisting the offending potion maker high up off the ground.

“HIS NAME IS PARK, YOU THREE-EYED BANSHEE!” bellowed Willow, her narrowed, furious eyes a solid, luminous green. “Call him by the name of that tyrant one more time. I dare you.”

The bard coven chair crashed against the floor, shoved out of the way by its occupant, who stood up with a righteous fury. “Unhand my wife right now, Willow” screamed Skara, whipping out her viola and summoning her bow “I won't ask again!”

“ENOUGH!” screamed the Empress, who stretched out her right hand to summon her staff, and an otter scurried out from under her cloak and jumped up to her master’s hand. The mahogany-colored staff finished elongating before it reached Luz’s hand. At the same time, with her left hand, Luz pulled out a card emblazoned with an intricate glyph combination from one of several clips attached to her belt, before immediately throwing the card to the ground and slamming the bottom of her staff on the card with a deafening crack, activating the glyph. Simultaneously the arguing coven heads were lifted in golden orbs joining Boscha in being ignominiously suspended several feet off the ground. Clenching her staff tighter, the Empress breathed in audibly before exhaling just as forcefully. “We seem to have gotten ourselves off-track. If we could please return to discussing the agenda as civilized people, that would be lovely.”

Having calmed down, Luz dispelled the levitation spell, and the now-grounded coven heads began to sit back down. “Oh, and Boscha?” Luz addressed the ruffled potions coven head.

“Hm?” a now unkempt, disgruntled Boscha huffed.

“If you make such an obscene request again,” Luz hissed, ice in her words “I will need to find a new coven head. Are we clear?”

Boscha blanched, her normally vibrant skin turning a sickly, pale hue. “Of course, Empress.” stammered Boscha, leaning forward in a deep bow, “I merely meant to aid you in bringing peace to the Isles.”

“I will not allow peace to come at the price of the Isles backsliding back into the tyranny of Belos.” Luz asserted, the cold fury smoldering in her eyes slowly fizzling away. Luz dusted off her cloak, feeling herself calm down as her fingers ran across the fine threads of her stark white cloak and its shimmering gold fringes. Luz couldn’t remember when she had picked up this habit. Was it before or after Eda left? Luz pondered, trying to recall what happened during those early years of chaos after the Collector was defeated. No, wait, wasn’t it during the Siege of the Right Palm? Titan, that was a blood bath. Heh, I bet the ground there still reeks of iron. Unable to remember when she learned this particular de-stressing tactic, she elected to return to the matter at hand.

“While we’ve managed to bring order to most of the Isles, the attack on my home once again demonstrates that there are those within the Empire that seek to return us to those anarchic days after we defeated the Collector, and that they have potentially been able to infiltrate high-level positions within the Covens. I will not allow the Isles to once again be divided up by petty warlords because some delusional rebels forgot what happened the last time we trusted the Isles to be able to govern itself.” Luz became briefly somber, her heart having never been able to let go of its fondness for one specific rebel, but quickly regained her composure. “Even if it’s not in the form of tracking bracelets, we need to tighten security somehow, or the pacification campaigns on the Skull and Left Arm fronts are at risk of sabotage from within. Let’s table the proposal for tracking bracelets, but I need ideas on how to root out whoever is aiding the rebels.”

Gus spoke up “Are we even sure that there is a spy? Perhaps some rebels are using invisibility spells and are just listening in on conversations in-person?”

Hunter shook his head at that “I highly doubt that. The stamina someone would need to hold an invisibility spell for hours on end would be impressive to say the least.”

“We could implement memory inspections of suspicious individuals or have patrols of Oracles patrolling for rebellious sentiments.” Offered Edric Blight.

“Isn’t that what Mom used to do to us?” asked Amity, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but it kept me and Em from going completely hog-wild. I can promise you that if Mom hadn’t been scrying on us the manor would not still be standing.”

“Your ‘pranks’ still forced us to rebuild the east wing that one time.”

Edric shrugged, “I’m just saying, it might be effective.”

Amity crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t think that we should base our methods of governance on the parenting techniques of Odalia Blight, and I’m surprised that you, of all people, would suggest that.”

“Also, we’ve established that there are likely moles in the government, how would we prevent these patrols from being infiltrated as well?” Skara added.

“Why are we worrying about spies?” interjected Mattholomule, head of the Construction Coven.

“Oh no.” muttered Gus. Despite his long, and often confusing, friendship with the ex-Glandus witch, Gus was well aware that when it came to anything other than construction, and to a lesser extent illusion, spells, Mattholomule was not known to be particularly capable.

Proving Gus’ worries correct, Mattholomule, with unearned blustery confidence, continued “Why focus on spies? I say we just get on with sweeping up the remaining rebel territory. No rebel faction to report to, no danger posed by spies.”

Willow couldn’t help but roll her eyes when the construction witch spoke “Oh, of course, let’s just win the war. Why didn’t we think of that? I know you move rocks all day, but that doesn’t mean you should fill your skull with them. Spies might tell the rebels information, which might make victory a tad harder to achieve. Ergo, we should find said spies. Are we clear, or do I have to use smaller words for you?”

Mattholomule huffed “Fine. Fine. You don’t have to tug on my tunic, lady.”

Willow’s eye began to twitch, a sign thankfully noticed by Hunter who laid his hand reassuringly on her shoulder, saving Luz from having to search for a new head witch of the Construction Coven.

-4 Hours Later-

“You can’t say that it might not help to at least try the idea. At the very least it would be better than us continuing to go in circles for the rest of the day,” asserted Amity, whose patience after four hours of unproductive debate was beginning to wear thin.

“I can assure you that such a plan would cause the Skull front to collapse. Those troops are demoralized enough as it is,” responded Hunter, the bags under his eyes particularly deep after racking his brain for four hours while having not slept in more than a day.

Suddenly Luz’ hand went up and she grunted out “Enough, we’re obviously not going to get anywhere, so let’s all leave to brainstorm some ideas and come back at noon tomorrow.”

Willow raised an eyebrow at her old friend, it was unlike Luz to want to postpone something. Even as she grew cynical and pessimistic with age, she still preferred to tackle problems vigorously and immediately. “Luz, did you somehow forget your house was attacked? I don’t think this can wait.”

Luz, clenching her teeth, hissed “Positive. Everyone, please leave immediately.”

Gus spoke up “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Peachy.” For a few seconds everyone just stared at Luz, whose face was scrunching up in pain, but not enough to prevent her from barking out “LEAVE!” which caused her to wince.

Edric was the first to get up, declaring “All right. I know when I’m not wanted,” before getting up and heading and for the door. The sound of the council chamber doors opening was the impetus that prompted the remainder of the council, barring Amity and Luz, to file out. Gus, the final councilor to leave, paused in the doorway and glanced back at his friend, his Empress, with confusion, before departing the council room and closing the large, mahogany-colored doors behind him.

The second the doors closed, Amity, shocked and confused, turned on her wife, inquiring “What in the world just happened? Why did you snap at everyone?”

Luz, her face green and cheeks puffed out, grunted “Because of this,” before promptly darting over to one of the potted plants in the corner of the room and emptying her guts into it.

Amity’s face softened as she realized why her wife had behaved so unusually. “You didn’t have to expel everyone from the room. I’m sure that they would have understood you having morning sickness.”

Luz, face still buried in foliage, shook her head “No, I told you, we’re not telling anyone yet.”

Amity kneeled down next to her wife, and began reassuringly rubbing her hand over Luz’s back, making sure to avoid her scars “I know you want to make sure the baby is safe, but I think we can trust the Council at the very least.”

Luz shook her head again. “Not until we find the people who tipped off the rebels.”

Amity, taken aback by Luz’s words, spluttered “Surely we can at least tell the Council! They are our friends after all.”

Amity paused, thinking of one sycophant in particular “Well, most of them.”

Luz opened her mouth to speak, before closing it and remaining silent for a concerningly long period of time.

Amity’s eyes widened “You can’t possibly think it’s one of them?”

Luz opened and closed her mouth a few times, confusion and distress streaking their way across her face, as she searched through her many memories for clues, before quietly muttering “I… I can’t be sure it isn’t. Remember what Hunter said, only the council and select few high-ranking officials in each coven knew where we were. Besides, our cottage was far from rebel territory, so it’s unlikely that someone just stumbled across it, and even if somebody did it looks just like any other house.”

Amity implored her wife, trying to get her to stop heading down this train of thought. “That doesn’t mean we should begin suspecting our friends, some of whom might as well be family.”

Luz shook her head once again. “I’m not endangering our baby until we have the traitor or traitors in question locked in the Conformatorium for the rest of their lives,” Luz said, venom laced into her words.

Amity was the one to shake her head this time, realizing the futility of the matter. It was nearly impossible to convince Luz otherwise when she had made up her mind. It had once been something she admired about the adorable human. I wonder what our younger selves would say if they could see us now. Amity mused. I imagine every person thinks that at some point when they grow up. At the very least, I hope it doesn’t say anything that I’m somewhat glad I’ll never have to know the answer to that question.

Then again, I could ask one of my memories. She promptly shuddered, remembering what happened the last time she went memory diving, or rather, what happened right before. Never again.

“All right, but we’re not keeping this from the royal physician. I’m not going to let your paranoia keep our baby from getting the medical care they need.”

Luz rubbed her hand against her mouth, wiping off the stray bits of bile that managed to hang on to her lips, and grumbled.

Amity stood her ground, crossing her arms and staring pointedly at the stubborn human.

It took little time for Luz to crack. While she tended to cling to her positions, it wasn’t, by and large, to an unreasonable degree. “Fine.”

“Now, is the baby finally calm, Batata?” Amity asked smugly.

Luz smirked, never one to reject a challenge from her wife, and said “Oh, Hermosa, I know that you couldn’t possibly have actually been referring to me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Amity responded, chuckling. “Now, I’m feeling a bit tired after all that. Shall we head to bed?”

“I believe we shall.” Luz concluded, hooking her elbow around her wife’s, a small smirk still present on her face, along with, to Amity’s joy, a glint of contentment in those brown eyes that so easily entranced her.

Notes:

Artist: KattyPurr was commissioned to draw the cover art.

Chapter 2

Summary:

After the council meeting, Luz reflects on the past.

Later that night, as Amity and Luz prepared for bed, the quiet of the night was interrupted only by the gentle pitter patter of water hitting the stone tiles of their shower, and the humming of its purple-haired occupant. Such quiet moments tended to cause Luz to retreat deep into her own thoughts, and this night was no different, and the theme of tonight’s retrospection were the various relationships that Luz had held throughout her life.

Over her 35 years of life, Luz had been many things to many people. Each relationship had forced Luz to repeatedly raise her mental bar for what she constituted as truly surprising. First, she was a daughter to her parents, a weirdo to be avoided to her classmates, an apprentice to Eda, a friend to Willow, Gus, and many others, a sister to King, a wife to Amity, a hero, and then an Empress to the Isles, and to some a tyrant, and soon, a mother to her child. Each of these relationships had been more surprising to her than the one prior.

She hadn’t been surprised to receive her parent’s love, why would she have been, it had been given to her since before she was even born. She had been confused by her classmates’ refusal to associate with her, but her isolation had begun at such a young age that it merely became her status quo. Becoming an apprentice to an actual honest-to-titan Witch had been the first truly shocking development in her life. Making some actual friends in the form of Willow and Gus a mere day afterwards had been an even bigger shock, shattering the status quo that she had been used to for 14 years. Each subsequent development only caused her greater disbelief. Yet, no new interpersonal relationship had ever been a more shocking development than the discovery four weeks prior that she, Luz, had successfully become pregnant.

Luz’s brain, ever willing to assist her in reminiscing, brought to the forefront of her mind the memory of that fateful day Willow and Hunter’s first child came into the world.

-3 years ago-

Luz, along with Amity, Gus, and Willow’s surviving father were sat in in the waiting area of the maternity wing of Bonesborough General Hospital when the quiet evening atmosphere was violently shattered. “WHY THE FUCK DID I AGREE TO THIS?!” The words pierced through the air, the volume of the question smothering every other sound. The epicenter of the acoustic assault was Room 27, specifically one Willow Park, who was making swift progress in both bringing life into the world and asphyxiating the extremities of Hunter’s left hand with her steel grip.

“I’m going to need a prosthetic after this, Captain!” came the futile plea from the beleaguered head of the Empress’ Coven, who was currently dealing with the dilemma of his wife treating his hand as a stress ball. Unfortunately for the few undamaged muscles in his hand, his argument was ignored by his very much preoccupied wife.

“AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHH!” screamed Willow. “THIS KID WILL BE AN ONLY CHILD!”

And so, for the next 37 minutes, the head of the Plant Coven made certain that the only hearing anyone accomplished was by the deaf with their own thoughts.

Trying to distract herself from the cacophony that permeated the building Luz turned to her wife sitting beside her, saying what had crossed her mind more than a few times during the past 14 hours since Willow had first gone into labor. “You know, I never pictured Hunter choosing to become a father.”

Amity turned to Luz, surprised “Why is that?” Amity noticed a tinge of sadness briefly flash across Luz’s eyes.

“I… I had always imagined that he’d be too scared of repeating the mistakes of the past.” Luz replied, the half-truth nature of her answer painfully obvious to Amity.

“Luz, Hunter may admittedly never fully undo all of the damage he suffered from how Belos treated him, but if you think that Hunter is going to do anything less than shower that little boy with love and affection because of that then I can say that you are even more clueless right now than you were when you were 14. So, what is this really about?”

“....”

Amity waited a bit, allowing her wife to collect her thoughts.

“As they currently are, the Isles aren’t safe for a child. We’ve only just managed to reclaim the Upper Chest from the rebels, and do you know off the top of your head how many assassination attempts we have had to fend off so far, because I can’t and the fact that I or someone on the council has had to stare down the staff of an insurgent so many times that I’ve lost count is saying something. Hunter is the head of the Empress’ Coven; Willow is the head of the Plant Coven. Both of them are targets for rebel activity. What if they die, and leave their son an orphan? How could they be so selfish? To bring a child into this world before we’ve managed to fix it?”

Luz was starting to spiral, breath hitching in fitful stops and starts, her hands ran frantically over her cloak to little effect. Her eyes were rapidly filling with panic as her mind brought forth all of the anxieties and fears for the future it could muster to the forefront of Luz’s consciousness.

“I mean, what if the council is attacked and the Isles fall back into anarchy? How will their kid possibl- Umph”

Having realized the error in allowing her wife to speak Amity pulled Luz into a bear hug, and slowly ran her hand back and forth across Luz’s back. Back and forth. Up and down. Wordlessly they sat there, embracing each other, as Amity’s touch slowly worked to ground Luz’s thoughts.

A little over a minute later Luz had calmed down “Thanks, Amity, I don’t know what came over me just now.” Luz admitted, hanging her head and rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment.

“Batata, I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, never apologize for having emotions. I fell in love with a person, not an unfeeling abomination.” Amity said.

Luz, seeing an opening, looked up with an admirable attempt at a confident smirk plastered across her face, and quipped “That makes sense. After all, you were the only one to see through my disguise the day we met.”

Amity glared back at Luz. She knew the human too well to fall for this trick. “Don’t try to deflect away from the subject by joking. I know you can do better than that, Luz.”

Luz hung her head again “Sorry.”

Amity grabbed Luz’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, Batata, I just don’t like how you try to put up a front all of the time. Save it for the troops, not your wife.”

Luz sighed “As usual, Amity, you’re right.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Amity feigned a haughty attitude, which her mother had drilled into Amity during her childhood, but couldn’t keep it up, and giggled. While her aristocratic upbringing still caused her to expect some of the finer things in life, Amity had largely managed to grow past the arrogant sense of superiority that her mother had expected the Blight family, and especially Amity, to carry themselves with.

Upon noticing the relative quiet that had settled upon the waiting room Luz’s ears perked up. She had long since learned how to move her ears out of both adoration for, and envy of, Amity and her far more mobile ears. “Hey, I can’t hear anymore screaming, do you think Willow finished giving birth?”

As if summoned by Luz’s words a nurse walked into the waiting room and announced, “Mrs. Park is recovering in room 27, but has stated that she is ready for visitors should any of you wish to do so.”

“Well, duh, I want to see my nephew after all!” Luz replied before standing up with a sense of restrained grace that heavily contrasted with not just her jubilant tone or her emotional state a mere two minutes ago, but also to how she carried herself when she first came to the Boiling Isles. There was little trace of the 14-year-old human spring that would have literally jumped up out of her chair with unbridled enthusiasm.

Amity rolled her eyes but was secretly glad to see a hint of the boundless joy that so characterized the girl she fell in love with all those years ago, “Just because the same hermit in the woods took you and Hunter under her wing doesn’t make you siblings.”

Luz turned back with a grin that Amity so wished that she could take for granted once again “Of course it does!”

They followed the nurse into Room 27. Opening the door revealed a tender scene, that of an exhausted Willow, brows christened with sweat, embraced by Hunter as they both stared down at what had instantly become the most precious person in their lives. A deep love for the tiny, fragile creature swaddled in Willow’s arms permeated every muscle, fiber, and cell in their bodies, a love that their eyes made no attempt at keeping secret, their gaze one of unmoderated adoration. “Hey,” Luz said, announcing their presence with a soft rap of her knuckles on the ajar door “how’s the kid doing?”

The new parents somehow tore their eyes away from the new center of their universe and Willow, exhausted as she was, beamed with a smile so luminous one could be forgiven for thinking she had cast a light spell. “He’s perfect.”

Willow’s dad’s eyes were already tearing up. Wiping away the tears from his eyes, he, like his daughter and son-in-law, could barely tear his gaze away from the baby to quietly ask “May I hold him?” An emotional fragility, betrayed by the slightest of voice breaks, was evident in his words.

A tacit understanding flashed across Willow’s face, and she handed over the baby to her dad who stepped forwards and gingerly took him into his arms. It took only a few seconds before he was on the verge of tears again, “I wish your father could have been here to see this day.”

Willow’s face shifted to one of lingering mourning, concurring “I’m sure that Father would have loved him. He did always hope that at least one of his grandkids wouldn’t be a plant.”

Gilbert chuckled at that comment and handed the baby back to Willow’s all too willing arms. “Well, you have to admit, it did look like his worry was justified for a few years.” Gilbert said, his tone one of light-hearted, familial teasing, earning an eye roll from Willow.

“Sure, Dad, whatever you say.”

“So, did you decide to go with the name Caleb in the end?” Amity inquired.

Willow and Hunter looked at each other and smiled before looking back and shaking their heads.

“We decided that our baby’s name is not how Caleb Wittebane should be honored. I was created to be a copy of Caleb.” Hunter said solemnly “Our son shouldn’t have to deal with upholding the legacy of the dead as I did. He’ll be able to live out his childhood in a way I never could, with the freedom to decide what kind of person he wants to be, not…” Hunter sighed, remembering the tyrant whose last name he had never regretted discarding upon marrying Willow, but whose memory and impact he would never be truly free from “Not who someone else expects him to be, not our Daniel.”

Luz nodded, a slight smile on her face “You’re going to be a great dad, Hunter.”

Willow leaned over the side of her hospital bed to kiss Hunter on the cheek, agreeing with Luz’s statement “I had no doubt about that.” Hunter rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

 

Later that night, Luz and Amity were relaxing in one of their many lounges back in the castle when Amity closed her Azura book “Luz, I have a couple questions, the latter of which depends on your answer to the former.”

Luz, unsure where this was going, raised an eyebrow and asked, “What do you want to know?”

Amity inhaled deeply, readying herself for the conversation to come. “Be honest with me. Back at the hospital, when you were spiraling, how much of that was projection?”

Luz looked like she would rather be anywhere else other than where she currently was.

Amity, expecting Luz’s distress, laid her hand on Luz’s shoulder and kept her gaze locked onto those anxious brown eyes right in front of her. “Please, Luz, I need to know. It’s important.”

Luz took a moment to step back from the emotional cliff edge and collected herself. Amity waited patiently for her wife to speak.

“I… I don’t know. Most of it, I think. I’m not sure.” Luz hung her head. “Okay… all of it was.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to have children?” Amity asked cautiously.

Luz’s head shot up and her eyes dilated to the size of dinner plates. “WAIT, WHAT?!”

Looking deep into her wife’s eyes Amity repeated the question, that oh so important question. “Luz, do you not want kids?”

Luz habitually reached down by her waist to try and run her fingers across the edges of her cloak only to grasp at air, her cloak hung up on the coat rack upstairs in their bedroom. Realizing that Luz was about to spiral again, Amity stood up and, once again, pulled her wife into a tight embrace. Calming her wife down had long since become the most frequent reason Amity had for hugging the human.

A few minutes later Luz’s pulse returned to a non-alarming rate, and Amity tentatively released her wife from her hold, and let her hands trail down her wife’s sides to grasp Luz’s hands within her own.

Amity sighed, looked into her wife’s eyes, a plea written within Amity’s own gaze “Luz, I’m ready to have kids, so, please, answer the question.”

It was less than a minute before Luz replied, but it felt like an eternity. Amity’s golden eyes scoured every inch of those wonderful brown eyes in front of her, searching, pleading for any hint that their wife’s answer might be hidden within, but if Amity was honest with herself, she already knew what Luz was going to say, as she later admitted to Luz.

Luz mumbled “It’s not safe yet.”

Amity squeezed Luz’s hand. “Luz, you’re the Empress, and I’m the head of the Abomination Coven. When would it ever be completely safe for us to have kids?”

“At least after we win the war.” Luz said, still mumbling.

Amity suppressed the urge to sigh “Luz, the only remaining holdouts now are in the Skull and Left Arm provinces. The castle is surrounded by loyalist territory on all sides, and we’re more than capable of defending ourselves.”

“Still…” Luz said, finally no longer mumbling.

Amity gave her wife’s hand another light squeeze. “Luz, we’re almost 33, and we’re not getting any younger. I want kids, and I know that you would be a great mother. Please, will you at least think about it?”

Luz sighed and relented. “Fine, I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask. Thank you, Batata.” Amity concluded and kissed her wife to mark the end of the discussion.

                                                     

Of course, that wasn’t really the end of it. Pulling on her silk night gown, Luz remembered the years of debate that followed. Well, debate is a strong word. In reality it was less a series of structured arguments meant to ascertain the truth, and more a battle of wills between two of the most stubborn and iron-willed people on the entirety of the Boiling Isles. Through the tears, pleas, and confessions that filled the following years, Luz could not escape the fears her mind conjured, the certainty that the Boiling Isles weren’t safe to bring a child into. Not yet. Not before the Isles, the Empire, was whole again. Just a few more years. That’s all it would take. Just… just a few more years.

As Luz pulled the covers over herself, she reflected on the most critical error she had made in her reasoning and couldn’t help but smile. Sure, for all the dangers the Isles still presented, and despite how many rebels there were to still clean up, she had forgotten one thing. One very crucial thing. She had married Amity Blight, and when Amity set her sights on something there was nothing that could stand in her way.

Chapter 3

Summary:

Luz's demonstrates her dedication to the Isles in an unhealthy way.

As she watched the casket be lowered into the ground, Luz muttered a quiet curse against the skies above. Her mother deserved a better funeral. It should be raining, Luz thought. It almost always rains during a funeral in movies, as if the heavens themselves are sharing in the grief of the attendees below. Sure, it was a bit cliché, but Luz had always thought it made sense. A somber atmosphere for a somber occasion. Today though, the sky was a mocking baby blue, with not a single cloud in the sky, as if the world itself was happy to be rid of the kindest person Luz had ever known.

In attendance were her sister Vee, Vee’s girlfriend Dahlia, Amity, Willow, Gus, Hunter, and a couple of Camila’s friends and extended family. Though the sky was bright and sunny the people watching the coffin sink into its final resting place were anything but.

Huh, I expected a sound. Thought Luz as the coffin touched the soil, its descent into the grave finished.

Next to Luz, her sister Vee was sobbing uncontrollably, already having fallen to the ground wailing in anguish. Dahlia rubbed her back, trying to comfort her, to no effect. What could one do to in such a situation? How could one possibly help? All she could do was share in Vee’s grief.

“I’m so sorry, Vee. Your mom was one of the best people I’ve ever met.” Dahlia said, attempting to console Vee.

One of? Thought Luz angrily, clenching her fists. How was she not the best person you ever met? Who did you meet that possessed such a Fred Rogers level of kindne- Huh?

Having noticed her fiancée’s rising frustration Amity had reached out to grab Luz’s hand. Feeling Amity’s fingers attempting to lace with hers had thankfully doused the flames of Luz’s anger before they could grow too large.

Looking over at Amity’s questioning eyes Luz muttered an apology as the soft sound of dirt falling on wood filled the air.

                                                     

Waking up from that titan-damned dream, Luz, groggy as one should be when waking up in the middle of the night after not even getting a couple of hours of sleep, rubbed her eyes in frustration.

“Hey, inner-self, I will have someone memory dive to ask you why I’ve dreamt of that day three times this month if you don’t *YAWN* stop.” Luz threatened, the intimidation of which was slightly undercut by how tired she was.

Luz only managed to get halfway into pulling the covers back over herself to go back to sleep before her inner non-self made its demands known with caustic acid rising quickly in her throat.

DAMN IT! Luz thought as she threw the covers off of her, which, if the yelp that came from the other side of the bed was any indication, landed on Amity’s face, and ran to the bathroom.

With her face hanging over the toilet bowl, hands gripping the seat, Luz began retching up stomach acid.

“Kid, I love you, but could you *hurk* please wait until it’s actually morning to make me sick?” Luz asked in her mother tongue, to, predictably, no response.

*YAWN!* let out a groggy Amity, who ambled into the bathroom. “Are you okay, Luz?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Luz reassured, waving her hand to try to shoo Amity away. “The baby’s just being a goofball.”

Amity smiled and knelt down besides Luz. With one hand she held back Luz’s hair and ran the other soothingly across Luz’s back. “Are you causing your mommy trouble, my little witchling?” Amity cooed in Spanish.

“They’re already taking after you.” quipped Luz in between retches, transitioning back to English.

Amity feigned a haughty persona and retorted “I view that as the highest of compliments.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Hermosa.” chuckled Luz.

A few minutes later Luz’s most recent bout of morning sickness had finally concluded.

“Are you feeling better now, Batata?” Asked Amity softly, her hushed tone caused by a mixture of caring and sleep deprivation.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” said Luz, getting up to wash her hands.

-30 minutes later-

“Bebé, for future reference, even if I’m having another nightmare of a painful memory, please don’t wake me up.” Luz pleaded, lying in bed, having been unable to get back to sleep.

After a few more minutes of tossing and turning Luz got out of bed. “Well, little one, if sleep isn’t an option, then we might as well get a head start on the day. How’s that sound?” Luz said, while unconsciously rubbing her hand across her flat midriff.

It took little time for Luz to ready herself, and within fifteen minutes had showered, grabbed her belt filled with glyph cards, and donned her black garments and gold-fringed white cloak, but as she laid her hand on her bedroom door Luz couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something.

The answer came in the form of an almost asthmatic sounding chirp from between Luz’s feet, as her palisman inquired as to why Luz was up so early.

Luz smiled, reaching down to pick up her fuzzy partner and placed her on her favorite spot in the world, Luz’s shoulder, and specifically her right shoulder. For reasons that she could never understand, nor could the palisman articulate, it hated sitting on her left shoulder. Luz had never minded though. As far as she was concerned, everyone, palisman or not, was entitled to a few eccentricities.

When she opened the door, her two guards saluted her. I hate it when they do that. Luz mentally complained.

“Empress! Is there an emergency? Do you require an escort?” the more overeager of the two guards asked.

“That will not be necessary. Continue to guard my wife,” replied Luz, waving her hand dismissively.

“Of course, Ma’am.”

“Yes, Empress!”

As she headed deeper into the castle, Luz, not in the mood to talk to anyone, made sure to avoid the patrol routes of the coven members guarding the castle.

Coming up upon the royal library, Luz tapped the light glyph at the center of the door, activating the two-meter-wide glyph combination. As the heavy doors slowly opened, letting Luz into the vast archives full of hundreds of thousands of documents Luz mused “I bet the last time most of these were touched was before Belos fell.”

As she closed the door behind her, Luz pulled out a fire glyph and tapped it against the base of the floor, placing it on the nexus of hundreds of lines etched into the floor, radiating out throughout the library, across the floors and walls. Upon activating the glyph, a tiny, almost imperceptible ember raced down each of the lines. At the terminus of each line was a torch, all five thousand of which were instantly illuminated once their respective spark reached them. Running her hand across the first book Luz, determined as ever, resolutely declared “If anyone would have had something on locating spies it would have been you, you tyrant, and I’m going to find it.”

-7:00 AM-

*MREOWWWW!!!!* cried Ghost, Amity’s palisman taking it upon herself to wake the witch up, a courtesy Amity repaid by throwing a pillow at her overly helpful partner, who deftly avoided the projectile with a simple jump.

*Mreow!*

“Too *YAWN* early, Ghost,” protested Amity.

In response to her master’s refusal to cooperate, Ghost decided on the next logical course of action, and proceeded to bat at the mane of purple hair billowing forth from Amity’s head.

“All right, all right, I’ll get up!” exclaimed Amity exasperatedly.

After rubbing her eyes to banish the last vestiges of exhaustion Amity looked around only to find her bed conspicuously half-occupied. Maybe she’s experiencing another round of morning sickness. Amity thought as she disentangled herself from the rat’s nest of covers and blankets that, through tossing and turning, she had managed to slowly accumulate around her as she slept. I don’t know how Luz can stand my doing this. I barely can. Amity mused.

Knocking on the bathroom door brought no response. “Luz, darling, are you in there?” Amity inquired, receiving only further silence.

Turning the door handle Amity found that it was unlocked. Getting a bit worried Amity asked “Batata, are you feeling unwell?” as she cautiously opened the door. However, Amity discovered only an empty bathroom.

“Oh, where has she run off to now?” Amity wondered aloud, unconsciously slipping into Spanish.

After getting ready for the day, Amity opened the doors leading out of her bedroom and caught the guards changing shifts. Getting the attention of the departing night guards Amity asked, “Did Luz say where she was going?”

The more overeager of the two saluted while responding “No, she did not, Your Majesty, she merely requested that we continue guarding your quarters!”

Of course, she didn’t say where she was going. Amity mentally grumbled. “When did she say this?”

Still eager to assist the guard once again saluted while responding “Her Majesty, The Empress, departed her quarters around midnight, Your Majesty!”

Mi- Midnight! What are you doing this time, Luz? Amity was baffled. Oh, she better not start regularly pulling all-nighters again. “Thank you. Please inform the rest of the castle guards to keep an eye out for Luz, and to tell her to meet me in the dining hall for breakfast.”

“Your Majesty!”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

With that matter hopefully resolved, Amity made her way to the dining hall. Maybe a muffin would suppress her growing anxieties over Luz’s disappearance. I could go for a fresh boo-berry muffin. I think boo-berries are in season. Ooh, maybe they’re fresh enough that you can still hear the screams. Amity picked up her pace, led by her stomach to her gooey prize.

Her mouth practically watering, Amity went down to the dining hall and requested the kitchen staff to make a batch of boo-berry muffins. To her absolute delight, Amity could hear the muffins being brought out before she could smell them, as the cries of shrieking berries filled the air. As the plate was placed down in front of her Amity inhaled deeply, taking in the pungent, fruity aromas. Ahhh, just like how Grandma Blight used to make them. Amity thought, contentedly.

Amity picked up the largest of the muffins and practically shivered with delight when the tortured screams instantly began reverberating in her head as she bit into the muffin, her teeth conducting the vibrations into her skull.

While she normally conducted herself with a certain degree of sophistication, and thus was not one prone to scarfing down food, this morning Amity went above and beyond what the etiquette instructors of her youth had commanded her to do. No hurried movements were made, and Amity savored each and every bite of the delicacy. Bite by bite, minute by minute, muffin by muffin, Amity slowly relieved the plate of its burden, before promptly requesting the kitchens to make a second batch.

 

As Amity swallowed down the last bite of her second helping, she laid back, completely relaxed. That is, until her gaze made its way to the clock on the wall. She had been in the dining hall for a full hour. Someone should have found Luz by now. Amity thought, as her anxieties from an hour ago, now evidently warranted, came back in force.

Her good mood ruined, Amity conjured an abomination to clean up the plate and went to check Luz’s usual spot, that being Luz’s private office. She’s probably drowning herself in paperwork and reports from the front again. Amity suspected, her mood only souring further as she thought of Luz, once again, avoiding delegation as much as physically possible.

Making her way up several floors Amity came up to the unmistakable door of Luz’s office, its abused appearance directly owing to the fact that Luz had constructed it primarily out the powerless fragments of Eda’s old portal door. Luz, I wish that you wouldn’t keep a reminder of Eda, of all people, around. You already deal with enough painful memories, Sweet Potato, please stop torturing yourself. Amity mentally bemoaned.

Opening the door with perhaps a bit more force than was strictly necessary, its battered frame creaking slightly as she pushed it open, Amity found no sign of Luz.

“Darling?” Amity called out, as if an empty room was going to respond. Hmm, maybe she brought her work to the council room again.

After a brisk walk down to the council room, Amity stood in front of the mahogany-colored doors and tapped the light glyph in the middle of the two-meter-wide glyph combination carved into the doors, which promptly glowed.

As the doors swung open, Amity only found her worries growing. The council room was completely empty. Luz was nowhere inside.

Okay, calm down, you’ve only checked two rooms so far. There’s no reason to panic. Now, keep calm and think. Where else could she be?

Maybe she decided to relax a bit for once and is in one of the lounges? Amity thought, fighting the panic growing inside her.

Main lounge? Vacant.

Eastern lounge? Empty.

The solarium? Unoccupied.

With every room she checked Amity felt her chest tighten, her pulse increase, and her pace quicken. After a half hour of scouring the castle, Amity realized what an idiot she had been. Maybe Luz had just gone out on a mission. In the middle of the night. Without letting her know. Without informing anyone at all. Surely, surely, that had to be it. After all, it’s not like Luz could actually be missing… right?

Approaching the point of hyperventilation Amity raced down to the Empress’ Coven headquarters buried deep within the castle. Calm down, Amity, you’re just working yourself up into a frenzy. Obviously, the perimeter guards will have reported spotting Luz leaving the castle last night. Everything will be all right as soon as you talk to command.

Arriving in front of the door to the headquarters of the Empress’ Coven after travelling at a speed just shy of a full-on sprint, Amity took a few seconds to compose herself before entering.

Spotting a coven member at their desk reviewing the latest casualty numbers with a grimace, Amity approached them. “You’re Mr. Matthews, correct?”

Amity’s words broke him out of his concentration, and, ever loyal, stood up and saluted “Yes, I am, Your Highness. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I was wondering if any of the perimeter guards spotted Luz leaving the castle late last night?” Amity asked, hopeful that her anxieties were unfounded.

“Of course, Your Highness. I will check at once.” Matthews responded, before promptly whisking himself away to another room to check the logs.

It was a concerningly short period of time before he returned. “None of the perimeter guards reported anything during the previous night, Your Highness.”

Amity’s breath hitched, and her mind scrambled to find explanations “Were any of the perimeter flood lights offline?”

Matthews didn’t even go back to the communications room, for there was nothing else to check. “No breakdowns in equipment were reported, Your Highness.”

“Ca- call the perimeter towers. Check to make sure that their equipment is working.” Amity responded, panic leaking into her voice.

Mathews saluted once again “Of course, Your Highness.” and went back to the communications room.

It was only a couple minutes before he returned. “All perimeter outposts are functional, Your Highness.”

“You- you’re sure? You’re absolutely sure?” Amity inquired.

“One hundred percent, Ma’am. I spoke to the towers myself.”

Okay, time to panic. “Find Captain Wilston!” Screamed Amity, startling Matthews, who took a step back. “Tell him that I want every guard in the castle searching for Luz, IMMEDIATELY!”

Matthews saluted, and then nearly tripped over himself as he raced off to Captain Wilston.

 

An hour later, Amity was in her office, in the wing of the castle containing the Abominations Coven Headquarters and attempted to distract herself from her anxieties by reviewing the field tests for the next generation, Mk. 3 abomatron. Currently she was rereading the third paragraph for the fifth time, having not internalized any of the information during the previous four read throughs. Oh, this isn’t working. Amity grumbled, setting down the report.

Maybe something entertaining will help calm me down. Amity speculated before promptly summoning an abomination. “Abomination, head to my bedroom and pick up my copy of ‘The Good Witch Azura” volume 6, from the bookshelf on the far side of the room.”

The abomination dutifully lumbered away, leaving Amity alone once again, well, almost alone.

*Meow* Ghost called out as she hopped up onto Amity’s lap, which caused her to smile.

“You always know what to do, don’t you, Ghost?” Amity asked, giving Ghost some well-deserved scratching under her chin and behind her ears, which caused the wooden feline to purr.

Unfortunately, Ghost was unable to calm Amity down completely before Captain Wilston and one of his lieutenants entered her office to report their findings from the search. “Your Majesty, we’ve checked the castle, but there’s no sign of the Empress.”

Amity’s breath hitched. “You’re sure that no one has seen her? She’s nowhere in the castle?”

The lieutenant by Captain Wilston’s side spoke up, saluting as he spoke “We’ve searched through the entirety of the castle, Your Majesty. Well, everywhere except the restricted sections of course.”

Amity paused, letting the idiocy of his words really sink in. “Do you mean to tell me…” Amity hissed “that there are places in the castle THAT YOU HAVEN’T CHECKED?!”

Captain Wilston stepped forward, attempting to divert the wrath of his superior off of his subordinate and onto himself, “Your Majesty, by Imperial Decree, all glyph-locked locations are strictly off limits to non-councilors unless given express permission by Empress Noceda.”

To say Amity was incensed would be an understatement, she was apoplectic. “LUZ HAS BEEN MISSING SINCE MIDNIGHT AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO CHECK EVERY SINGLE ROOM OF THE CASTLE?!”

“Your Majesty, The Empress dictated that-“

“WELL, I’M HER WIFE, AND IF THIS CASTLE ISN’T COMPLETELY SEARCHED FROM TOP TO BOTTOM, I WILL HAVE YOU STRIPPED OF RANK!!!! AM I UNDERSTOOD?!” Amity screamed at the top of her lungs, fury completely overtaking her.

Captain Wilston and the lieutenant behind him frantically saluted, never having seen the Royal Consort this upset before. “Understood, Your Majesty!”

“At once, Your Highness!”

Captain Wilston and the lieutenant dashed out of her office as fast as they possibly could.

 

It was another 20 minutes before Captain Wilston reported back, announcing that Luz had been found in the library. Amity didn’t even bother responding before sprinting directly to the royal library. Entering the library Amity made her way to the central atrium where Luz was, and found her hunched over a book, frantically taking notes in a journal. Stacks of documents, opened books, and reports surrounded her, almost completely obscuring the six-foot tall human.

As she approached closer Amity saw that her hair was a frazzled mess, looking more like a bird’s nest than the sleek, shoulder-length haircut that Luz had had since her late teens. Luz’s eyes frantically scanned back and forth across the page, not having noticed that Amity was standing next to her. “Sweet potato, are you alright?” Amity asked, gently placing her hand on Luz’s shoulder.

Luz’s head shot up, and she almost fell out of her chair, her focus shattered, “AHHH! Oh, it’s you. Titan, you scared me, Amity.”

“I could say the same to you too, Batata. It’s nearly 10:00 AM. You’ve been gone since midnight. I was in conniptions trying to find you.” Amity said softly.

Luz blinked twice “It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long.” She said, her voice monotone.

Of course, she didn’t realize how much time had passed. Amity thought as she pinched the bridge of her nose, before summoning her scroll and turning it towards Luz’s face. “See that time in the corner there?” Amity said exasperatedly, pointing to the spot on her scroll which clearly read 9:57 AM.

Luz gulped, quietly uttering. “Oh.”

Amity gave her a small smile; rarely could she stay mad at Luz for long. ”You could have at least told someone where you were going to be. You could have told me, your wife, where you were heading.”

Luz ran her hand through her hair, mussing it up even further “Sorry, won’t do it again.”

Amity smiled and hugged the human. “Now, we both know that’s not true. So, the next time you do this, can you at least tell me and the guards where you’re going?”

Luz chuckled and embraced Amity back. “I promise, Hermosa.”

“Thank you.” Amity removed herself from Luz’s grip. “Now, out of curiosity, why did you hole yourself up in the library for nearly half a day?”

Luz rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Well, after I had that bout of morning sickness late last night, I couldn’t fall asleep again, so I thought that I might as well brainstorm some proposals for the council meeting today.”

Amity sighed. “Of course, you did. How about this, we can bounce some ideas off of each other, but you need to come down to the dining hall with me first to get some food in your system.” Amity proposed, before adding with a smirk “I’m sure that our little witchling is getting quite hungry.”

Luz grinned, “Now, Amity, you couldn’t be attempting to use the baby as leverage to get me to stop working for a bit?”

Amity smirked yet again. “That’s a preposterous accusation, and one which I refute wholeheartedly. Now, come down to the dining hall with me.”

Luz chuckled and flashed Amity an amused grin “Oh, but of course, Your Majesty.”

Chapter 4

Summary:

The chaotic years after the defeat of the Collector didn't affect just the inhabitants of the Boiling Isles.

As she drove home, Dahlia felt the humming of the car’s engine soothe her nerves. Work had been difficult today, but there was nothing like the rumbling of an engine to set her mind at ease. Ever since she was a little girl, she had loved the sound and feel of an active engine. Granted, when she was a little kid it was because she thought that cars were powered by little demons, which, even as young as five-years-old fascinated her. Of course, current day Dahlia knew that internal combustion engines were not in fact imprisoned hellspawn running on tiny treadmills, not least of which because of the few times that she had been able to visit her wife’s homeland of the Boiling Isles. Nowadays though Dahlia still couldn’t help but feel relaxed whenever she felt the vibrations of a rumbling engine permeating throughout her body; it reminded her of calm nights, laying against a certain, purring basilisk that she was eager to get back to.

As if agreeing with her, Dahlia distinctly felt two pairs of legs start kicking from inside her, a sensation that couldn’t help but make Dahlia grin. “I know you’re anxious to get back to your Mami too, but hold your horses, we’re only a few minutes away.”

The twins’ response was to, unsurprisingly, keep kicking. Surely the speed limit was of lesser importance to getting back home, and more crucially, to Mami, sooner?

 

To the twins’ dismay Dahlia did not disregard the speed limit, instead pulling into the driveway a few minutes later, as she had promised.

As she got out of the car the twins calmed down, as if satisfied that they had somehow helped in getting the three of them home, which made Dahlia chuckle.

Opening the door however, brought an end to her good mood. “I’m home!” Dahlia called out.

While she had expected her 8-year-old son Dylan to, as per usual, run up to her and embrace her, she wasn’t prepared for how inconsolable he was.

“I’M SORRY, MAMA! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I DIDN’T KNOW IT WOULD MAKE MAMI CRY!” the little boy yelled into her pant leg, tears streaming down his face from puffy red eyes.

Dahlia instantly reached down and picked the light of her life up off of the ground, holding him tightly against her chest, while running her right hand through his hair, which was in easy reach as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, still wailing. “I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY I’M SORRY! I WON’T DO IT AGAIN! I’M SORRY!!!”

Dahlia paid no attention to the fact that her son’s tears had thoroughly ruined her black lace blouse. Clothing could be replaced, right now she needed to assuage her son. “Shhhh, shhhh. It’s okay, Dylan, it’s okay. Whatever happened it doesn’t matter, I forgive you.”

For the next five minutes Dahlia stood there, reassuring the little boy in her arms, as the noises emanating from him slowly diminished from agonized pleas for forgiveness to quiet sniffling.

When he had completely stopped crying Dahlia slowly placed him back down on the floor, before kneeling down to meet him at eye-level and placing her hands on his shoulders and gently rubbing them to continue reassuring him that she wasn’t mad at him. “Are you feeling better now?” Dahlia calmly asked.

“Mm hmm.” Dylan affirmed.

Dahlia smiled “That’s good. Now, what’s got my big, strong man so down in the dumps?”

Said big, strong man looked directly at the floor upon hearing that question, afraid to look his mother in the eyes. Dahlia let him do so, now wasn’t a good time to impress upon her son the importance of eye contact and patiently waited for him to respond.

“I… I…” Dylan tried speaking but couldn’t find the courage to do so. Instead, Dylan handed a small, framed picture to her which Dahlia, in the confusion, hadn’t noticed that he was holding.

Looking at the picture made Dahlia gasp. Bordered by the dull metallic frame was a picture of her deceased mother-in-law, her wife, and one Luz Noceda. They… they were sitting on a park bench, Camila had a warm smile on her face as she gazed down at a mortified Vee, who was burying her face, which was flushed with embarrassment, in her hands. Luz, sitting on Vee’s other side, was doubled over laughing, tears streaming down her face.

Dahlia sighed “You went snooping in our closet again, didn’t you?”

Dylan, gaze still fixed on the stone tiles of the foyer under his feet, weakly uttered out another “Mm hmm.”

Dahlia pushed up his chin to look him in the eyes, and gave a hopefully-not-somber smile to reassure her little boy, who was the best thing to ever happen to her. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re not in trouble, but this is why we don’t want you going in our closet. There’s stuff in there that… that has some painful memories attached to them.”

Dylan rushed forward and wrapped his short arms around his mama, and quietly said “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make Mami cry.”

Dahlia returned the hug. She would always return her little boy’s hugs. “I know you didn’t mean to. You’re a sweet little boy.”

Dahlia and Dylan stayed like that for several minutes, as Dahlia continued to comfort Dylan until she was confident that he wouldn’t burst into tears again when she asked the question that had to be asked. “I have to go check on your Mami now. Are you feeling okay enough for me to go do that? If you're not, I will stay here with you for a few more minutes, but I do have to make sure your Mami is okay.” Dahlia made sure to maintain a calm, even tone, remembering how her parents had spoken to her when she was a little girl whenever they needed to make sure that she understood the gravity of something while attempting not to freak her out.

Dylan, as per usual, made her proud, when he nodded his head and with only a minor reduction in volume reassured her that he was okay “Yeah, I feel better now. Um, can you tell Mami I’m sorry?”

“I absolutely can.” Dahlia wrapped Dylan up in a warm, tight embrace “I love you so much."

Thankfully, after having raised Dylan for eight stressful, wonderful years, she knew what would put a smile on his face. "Come on, I'll pour you some apple juice before I talk to your Mami."

 

After asking Dylan where Vee was, getting Dylan his apple juice to decrease the chances that he'd burst back into tears, and after triple checking that he was emotionally stable enough for her to leave him by himself for five minutes, Dahlia made her way to the master bedroom.

Dahlia softly rapped her knuckles on the bedroom door and got no response. Dahlia called out for her wife “Vee? Honey, are you in here?” while knocking again. After again receiving no response Dahlia moved to open the door.

As she opened the door slowly, Dahlia faintly heard sniffling coming from within.

Leaning in, Dahlia laid her eyes upon her wife staring at her phone, the soft glow of which was the only source of illumination in the room. On their bed laid Vee, huddled in the fetal position, with her back turned to Dahlia. Slowly approaching her, Dahlia kept gently calling out to Vee, but her wife was delving too deep within her emotions to hear.

Dahlia gently placed her hand on Vee’s shoulder, which caused Vee to drop her phone and her disguise to partially drop out of shock, the white sclera of her eyes turning a faint, sky blue, her cheeks to grow patches of white scales, and her ears to become large, drooping, and olive green with a fringe of dark blue fur. “AHHH! Oh, it’s you. God, you scared me, Dahlia.”

Dahlia gazed into her wife’s eyes, God, she could stare into those crystal blue eyes for hours… Focus! Focus! You have a job to do right now! Dahlia shook her head to clear her mind, before switching on the lights and asking in a clear, even tone “Vee, I saw what Dylan found in our closet. Is that what’s got you upset?”

Vee sniffled once again, and her eyes started to tear up “It… it is. I just… I… I miss them so much.”

Unable to figure out what she should say Dahlia just wrapped her arms around Vee and pulled her in close, running her hand through Vee’s brown hair. Vee took the opportunity to lay her head against Dahlia’s chest and the second she did the dam broke and tears, which had just barely been held in check, flowed freely.

Vee thankfully took less far time to stop crying than their son. Dahlia continued to run her hand through Vee’s hair as the tears slowed to a trickle before abating entirely. “Do you want to talk?” Dahlia softly inquired, testing the waters.

Dahlia felt Vee nod, her head still laying next to Dahlia’ chest.

“I… The… When Dylan showed me that photo… It… It all came rushing back. The good times we had, the struggles, the… the fights, the chaos that the Isles fell into, and… and the ambush that took Mom.” Dahlia just hugged Vee tighter when Vee practically gasped out the final word.

“I just couldn’t handle it and had to calm down in here.” Vee audibly exhaled “I probably scared Dylan, didn’t I?”

Dahlia’s first impulse was to lie and say that he was fine, but ended up nodding, realizing that nothing good would come from telling such an obvious lie. Vee would only feel worse about herself if she did, and it’s not like it would retroactively fix Vee’s momentary failure as a parent, however understandable the reason for said failure may be. “The poor kid was practically inconsolable.”

Vee had to choke back some more tears after hearing that. “I’m a terrible mother.”

Dahlia took issue with that “Hey, don’t beat yourself up. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re allowed to make the occasional mistake.”

“Not if those mistakes permanently traumatize our son.” Vee grimly said.

“Hey!” Dahlia pulled Vee up so she could look her in the eyes “Don’t say stuff like that. You’re a great mother and the sweetest person I know, so I won’t let you tear yourself to shreds.”

Vee winced upon hearing those words and Dahlia instantly began mentally berating herself for her poor choice of words. Idiot! Why did you word it that way?! Did you somehow forget what her mother’s body looked like?! The casket was closed during the wake for a reason you absolute brain-dead moron!

Dahlia’s self-flagellation was quickly interrupted by what was by now a very familiar sensation to her.

*Kick*

*Kick*

*Kick* *Kick*

Dahlia could feel her insides being pummeled, but had an idea, and guided Vee’s hand over to where the twins were kicking the hardest. Why didn’t I think of this earlier? Thought Dahlia, as she saw Vee crack a small smile.

Unfortunately, that slightest of smiles was then immediately succeeded by a shock of horror crossing Vee’s face, as she began trying to hold back her somehow still not drained tear ducts. Oh God, what did I do wrong now?! The sight of her wife on the verge of falling back into tears yet again, after having a rough day at work, and calming down her distraught son all on top of just the strain of being pregnant was too much for her to handle in a single day, and Dahlia panicked.

Dahlia tried calming her wife down but was having trouble remaining calm herself now. Aside from Sam who probably wouldn’t react much even to a bomb going off, Dahlia was the most cool-headed of the old Cabin 7 friend group, but even she had her limits. Normally said limits involved discussions of magic, which could instantly get her excited, but another limit of hers was, evidently, holding her emotionally beleaguered wife in her arms as her twins responded to her elevated cortisol levels by assaulting her internal organs.

Dahlia, her nerves well on their way to completely fraying, started practically pleading for her wife to calm down “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.”

Vee, slowly waterlogging every pore below her eyes, laid her head on top of Dahlia’s belly and muttered in a worryingly hollow voice “She’ll never get to meet them. First Dylan, and now the twins.”

Dahlia, already hugging Vee tightly, practically became a vice, as she tried to squeeze all of the anxiety and sadness from not just her wife, but also herself. Perhaps not the best or most effective strategy, but stress and logical thought are barely on speaking terms with each other at the best of times, and this moment was by no means even close to being classified as the best of times.

Dahlia tried to comfort her wife, replying “I’m sad that Camila never got to see her grandkids too.”

Vee shook her head, resulting in her tears being smeared across Dahlia’s blouse, and corrected Dahlia’s mistake “Not her. I mean, I am sad that I never got to tell Mom that she’s a grandma, but I was referring to Luz.”

“Oh.” 

Luz still had a…disproportionate influence over Vee’s heart, and Dahlia was, to say the least, ill-equipped to help her wife through those emotions. She briefly floundered at what to say. Thankfully, Vee rubbed her eyes to get rid of the remaining tears and changed the subject.

“I guess I should go apologize to our son for leaving him alone before making sure he was okay.” Vee tried to put on a smile, but it was apparent to both of them that it was forced.

“Oh!” Dahlia remembered “Dylan wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry too.”

Vee sniffled again, but her smile this time wasn’t forced in the slightest. “How did we end up with the sweetest little boy on Earth?”

Dahlia could only chuckle “I don’t know, but I’m so glad we did.”

 

Later that night, Dahlia laid in bed, wrapped up in Vee’s coils, her favorite spot in the world. As Vee rubbed Dahlia’s belly she softly purred, before she, curiously, stopped doing both at the exact same time. Without opening her eyes Dahlia asked, “Why’d you stop?”

Vee’s voice was concerningly hollow, as if she simply couldn’t muster any strong emotions after how emotionally taxing today had been. “I just realized; Luz could be a mother too by now.”

Dahlia would take what her immediate thought was upon hearing that to her grave. For the sake of her kid, I hope not.

Chapter 5

Summary:

The debate on how to hunt down traitors is settled.

As Luz and Amity made their way to the dining hall Amity could tell that Luz had something on her mind, though, when didn’t she? Luz’s mind had long since become a teeming stew of neuroses, worries, and self-imposed obligations. Luz had once told Amity about something that existed in the Human Realm called therapy, but even if such a service existed on the Boiling Isles, Luz, with her problems linked to national secrets, wouldn’t ever allow herself to use it. As such, it fell upon Amity to try to keep the love of her life from succumbing to the darkest corners of her own mind.

When they made it to the dining hall Luz finally said what was on her mind. Her eyes downcast, Luz meekly said “I… I’m sorry I made you worry earlier. I wasn’t thinking.”

Amity smiled and laced her fingers through Luz’s “You already apologized, Luz. As long as you keep your promise to tell people, and especially me, where you’re going then it’ll be fine.”

Luz’s response was just to weakly utter “Still…”

Amity gave Luz a smile and embraced her. “How about you stop moping and get some food in your system like we came here to do?” To Amity’s pleasure, her light teasing had the desired effect as Luz gave a soft, but gratifyingly genuine, smile.

“Okay.”

When they approached the long dining table Luz moved her hand to pull out the chair at the end, but Amity, seeing an opportunity to cheer up her wife, dramatically pulled the chair out for Luz, which earned a raised eyebrow from Luz.

“What?” asked Amity, in the most obnoxiously flirtatious tone she could manage, “Am I not allowed to pamper my pregnant wife?”

Luz snickered, and the slightest hint of a blush crossed her cheeks. “Amity, I’m only eight weeks along. I am perfectly capable of pulling out my own chair.”

Luz then called for the kitchen staff, which didn’t take long to send someone out. The Empress was not someone to be kept waiting.

“I’m glad to see that you seem to be in good spirits, Your Majesty, what can I get you?” said the kitchen staff, a genuine smile on her face.

Luz pondered for a bit, before deciding that some comfort food was what she needed right about now. “May I have some fried griffon eggs?”

The kitchen staff nodded “Certainly, Your Majesty. I’ll get started on that right away.” The staff member then gave a slight bow before swiftly returning to the kitchen.

“I hate it when they bow,” Luz grumbled. “That, and when they salute,” she huffily added.

“I keep telling you that you could always just order them to stop,” Amity giggled.

Luz groaned “And I keep telling you that I’ve tried doing that. Everyone still keeps bowing and saluting though.”

Amity smirked “Then maybe you shouldn’t have crowned yourself Empress, hmm?”

“If only that had been an option.” Luz chuckled.

Luz’s eyes then lit up as her ever-active brain, with no task to occupy its attention, flitted to the next topic of interest, and excitedly said “Oh, I just remembered! Did you hear what the score was from Willow’s last flyer derby match?”

Luz and Amity chatted for a few minutes about Willow’s performance in the semifinals of the Imperial Flyer Derby Cup, and how the Pelvic Pioneers would be feeling the sting of their record-shattering defeat for many seasons to come.

Quickly though, Luz’s fried griffon eggs were brought out. Grabbing her knife and fork Luz cut into the eggs, and excitedly went to take a bite, before scrunching her nose. Before Amity could say anything however, Luz tentatively took a bite of her eggs, chewing for only a couple seconds before freezing like a statue. Without moving anything but her arm Luz reached for the napkin beside her and spit out the half-chewed eggs into it.

“Is something wrong with the eggs?” Amity asked.

“I don’t know. They just taste off, and smell awful, for some reason, but I can’t say how or why.” Luz replied, utterly confused. “Maybe it was just that egg in particular.” Luz speculated, cutting off a piece of the second egg.

Luz didn’t even have to chew before rejecting that hypothesis, spitting out the offending bite.

“Daniella! Come here!” Luz called for the kitchen staff member that had brought out the eggs, a slight degree of irritation in her voice, but not before covering the source of the offending smell with her napkin.

Daniella came out promptly, bowing when she stopped beside Luz. “Yes, Your Majesty, is there something the matter?”

“I was wondering if a different recipe was used this time, because the eggs smelled odd and tasted wrong.” Luz answered, still scrunching her nose as the napkin had failed to block all of the offending smell from reaching her nostrils.

Daniella shook her head “I used the same recipe I always have, Your Majesty, but if you’d like I can try to make a replacement batch?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Instead…” Luz stroked her chin as she contemplated what could possibly replace fried griffon eggs.

“Actually, can you make some steamed eyeballs?” Luz asked before pausing. “Hm, it needs something else, she muttered to herself, before her eyes lit up as she realized what was going to save this meal. “Oh, yes! Also, can you bake a small fairy pie, and have it come out at the same time as the steamed eyeballs?” Luz, in her glee, didn’t notice the stunned expression that Daniella was giving Luz, who, after proving unable to find the right words to express her shock, merely confirmed the order and made her way back to the kitchen.

Luz, proud of her ingenuity, turned back to find her wife staring at her like she’d just grown a second head, her jaw dropped. “What?” Luz asked sheepishly.

Amity, completely stunned, put it bluntly “You hate the taste of steamed eyeballs, and I remember how embarrassed I felt when you admitted that you couldn’t eat the fairy pie that I made you because you thought it was barbaric, so, I have to ask, who are you and what have you done with Luz?”

Luz just nervously laughed and rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment.

 

After nearly an hour of further chatting, a long, satisfying conversation of a kind that the two oh so rarely got to enjoy these days, covering everything from how likely Willow’s Bonesborough Basilisks were to win the Finals against the Knuckleburg Knights to Amity having to babysit Jacob and Daniel next month, Luz’s meal came out.

Amity looked on in disbelief as she saw that Luz was practically drooling as her gaze locked onto the fairy pie and the bowl of steamed eyeballs as they were carried out and set down in front of her.

Amity eyes bulged out when Luz pierced two eyeballs with her fork, which produced a faint squelching sound. Is she really going to eat that? Amity thought, as the last vestiges of hope that this was a bizarre dream vanished along with the forked eyeballs into Luz’s mouth.

To Amity’s continued bewilderment Luz then kicked her head back exclaiming with a mouth full of food “Oh, this is so good.” Her astonishment only increased when Luz picked up the fairy pie, with the twitching limbs poking through the crust, and cries for help emanating from within its gooey center, and, rather than let the fairies loose or throw the pie away in disgust, bit into it, producing an audible crunch as Luz’s incisors sliced through multiple narrow, brittle limbs. As Luz continued to chew, Amity could distinctly hear bones cracking and snapping as they were ground down between her molars.

I guess I should be glad that she’s finally eating normal food. Thought Amity. Still though, this is unusu- oh, Titan, no.

If she thought that this day couldn’t get any weirder, then Amity was sorely mistaken, as Luz proceeded to do something that Amity never thought the human would do in a million years, something that Amity had never even considered for a second would happen. Luz, with a horrifying glint in her eyes, mashed the remainder of her steamed eyeballs with her fork, and poured said mash onto the fairy pie before picking up the entire thing and biting into it. This is a cry for help. The stress has gotten to her, and she’s snapped. There’s no other explanation. Amity reasoned, as Luz’s moans of delight failed to entirely muffle the symphony of screaming, squelching, and snapping that Luz, for some bizarre reason seemed entirely oblivious to, despite them emanating from her own maw.

A few minutes passed before Luz finished her meal, during which Amity had only been able to stare in utter disbelief at what had surely been her wife having a mental breakdown right in front of her.

After she took the last bite Luz leaned back in her chair, sighing contentedly. “Ah, that was delicious.”

“So, do you want to head to my office so we can brainstorm some ideas for the council meeting?” Luz said in a cheerful tone, before sitting up and noticing Amity’s slack-jawed expression. “Amity?” Luz blinked, confused.

Amity opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t formulate any words to express how she felt regarding what she had just seen. After a few more attempts to speak, gazing directly into the eyes of a thoroughly oblivious Luz, Amity dropped her head slightly, pinched the bridge of her nose, and said “Sure, let’s go to your office.”

 

As Luz and Amity sat down in the soft leather seats of Luz’s office, their palismen assumed their favorite spots, with Ghost occupying Amity’s lap and Maeve claiming Luz’s right shoulder. Out of habit both Luz and Amity moved to scratch under the chins of their respective palismen, a gesture which neither palisman rejected.

“First off,” Luz began to speak “the fact that the rebels managed to convert people in the highest echelons of the government to their side shows that just hunting for the traitors won’t be enough. We need to tighten up security overall.”

“I agree, but I think another problem that we need to tackle is the lack of critical thought endemic to the Royal Guards.” Amity added.

Luz, confused as to where this was going, stopped scratching Maeve’s chin, a turn of events the palisman protested, but whose protestations were ignored. “What do you mean? The royal guard are the best of the best.”

Amity rolled her eyes “In technical proficiency, yes, they are, but let’s face it, Luz. There’s such a thing as being too obedient.”

Luz scoffed at that. “Okay, I guess we’re doing comedy hour now.”

Unperturbed, Amity continued making her case “Regarding technical skill they’re the best of the Empress’ Coven, but their intense loyalty makes them too rigid in their thinking. None of them thought to search, or even ask for permission to search, the restricted sections when tasked with finding you, simply because you had decreed that they were off-limits to non-councilors. Training the guards to show some initiative, in emergencies at the very least, would be beneficial.”

Luz began to scowl slightly, displeased with this line of thinking. “So, you want us to train our guards to not follow orders? How do you think that will turn out, because I can’t see it ending with anything other than us being assassinated.”

It was Amity’s turn to scowl, her wife’s stubbornness getting on Amity’s nerves. “Luz, I did not say that we would train our guards to be anarchists, which is what you seem to be implying. I was merely stating that in times of crisis, rigid adherence to procedure can be detrimental, and that we should permit our guards to, in emergencies, take the necessary steps to keep us safe, as is their purpose.”

“I was fine though, so why is this necessary?” Luz argued.

“Luz,” Amity said, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “no one knew that though. What if you weren’t fine? What if you had been hurt, and I hadn’t been there to order the guards to check the restricted sections? In such a situation you could have died, then what would have happened to the Isles?”

“That’s just a hypothetical.” Luz rationalized.

Amity glared at the stubborn human.

“Fine, I’ll think about it.” Luz declared, exasperated, but Amity suspected that Luz intended to do no such thing, a suspicion backed up by the knowledge that came from being close to the human for more than twenty years. One tends to figure out how another operates after knowing them for more than two decades.

“Anyways, we’re not here to talk about the guards, but to figure out how to find out who leaked the location of our cottage.” Luz said, shifting topics.

Amity rolled her eyes. She loved Luz, but that didn’t mean that her stubborn nature wasn’t sometimes irritating.

Luz leaned back in her chair, pondering for a bit, before sitting back up and suggesting “What if we formed a secret group within the Empress’ Coven that had the objective of investigating, uncovering, and hunting down threats to the government?”

Surprised by the suggestion, Amity raised an eyebrow “Your suggestion is to form a secret police force? That sounds extreme.”

Luz shook her head “I’m not going to let some deluded dreamers kill us when we’re so close to making the Isles safe.” Amity noticed that Luz had begun absentmindedly rubbing her belly as she said that.

Realizing that, if she argued against this, it would just turn into another battle that neither would win, Amity relented. “Fine, but if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need to ensure that traitors won’t just infiltrate this new task force.”

*Psssh* “That’s easy.” Luz replied. “We can just make everyone who joins the force submit to an everlasting oath that they have never and will never betray me or allow me, through either action or inaction, to come to harm.”

Amity was about to say that Luz’s plan sounded good when Luz went on: “While we’re at it, we should mandate every citizen make such an oath. That way we could root out dissidents at all levels.”

Amity snorted. “The New and Improved Coven Brand.”

“I know, I know, but at least Belos was safe from his own citizens.” Luz pouted.

Amity laughed. “Not that safe.” Especially not from you, she added internally. She is joking about this, right?

As if on cue, Luz released a long, frustrated sound. “Okay, but for real, this would be a volunteer task force, and we’d tell them about the oaths up front. That’s not something Belos would do, right?” She smiled a lopsided smile at Amity. 

“Definitely not,” Amity agreed, squeezing her wife’s hand fondly.

 

Later that day, Luz looked at the coven heads assembled before her. “All right, now that everyone has been able to think privately on the matter, does anyone have any suggestions?”

Viney Merryweather, head of the Healing Coven, tentatively raised her hand.

“Yes, Viney, do you have an idea?” Luz nodded toward the Healing Coven Head.

Viney, with apprehension, said “I think that we should bargain with the rebels and recognize the Skull and Left Arm as an independent nation in exchange for handing over the operatives that attempted to assassinate you and informing us of the identity of whoever leaked your location.”

Luz may as well have cast an ice glyph, for the Healing Coven Head felt all of the warmth leave her body, sapped by Luz’s frigid, silent fury.

It was only a few seconds, but it felt like several minutes passed before Luz spoke. Making eye contact with Viney the entire time, Luz declared “Well, that was certainly an idea. However, I’m not in the mood for jokes, so can anyone give me some real suggestions?”

“I actually think that Merryweather’s suggestion has merit.” Hunter replied.

“Oh, really?” Luz growled. “And why might that be?”

Hunter was unperturbed by Luz’s anger. “Luz, we’ve been fighting for nearly 15 years. The troops are exhausted.”

Luz clenched her fists. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I cannot allow a den of anarchy to persist, and risk sending the entirety of the Isles back into chaos. Have you all forgotten how my family died? I won’t let naïve idiots risk causing more people to go through what I went through.” Luz clenched her fists even tighter, as she couldn't help but viscerally remember what the bodies of King and her mother had looked like after the ambush.

“I get that Luz,” Hunter began, sadness born of exhaustion clouding his eyes. “But the army doesn’t have the same fire in their eyes like you do. The skull front in particular is in danger of collapsing into mutiny.”

“WHAT?!” Luz exploded, abruptly standing up in anger. “Why, pray tell, have you not court-martialed someone?! Hmm? SET AN EXAMPLE! I won’t let everything we’ve accomplished be undone by SOME SPINELESS COWARDS!”

Hunter didn’t budge, continuing in a calm, saddened tone “Luz, do you really think that I haven’t tried that? I have, but I can’t court-martial the entire army. Continuing this war is what will risk our undoing, not ending it.”

Luz didn’t respond, and instead ran her hands over the fringes of her cloak, which succeeded in partially calming her down, but only enough to stop yelling. As she did so, she mentally added ‘possible mutiny’ to her list of problems to solve. I’ll have to look into just how badly morale has deteriorated on the frontlines. Luz grimaced as she worried about how severe the morale problem had gotten without her fully realizing it. I knew that the troops were very dispirited, but I didn’t realize that they were close to rebelling. If it’s bad enough I might have to knock some skulls in to reinstitute discipline. Luz sighed.

Sitting back down Luz cleared her throat, and, in a concerningly commanding tone, resumed speaking. “Thank you for your insight, Mister Park, and your suggestion, Miss Merryweather, but I simply can’t allow the rebels to continue posing an existential threat to our safety. Now, does anyone else have any other ideas they would like to share?”

Luz looked around. No one dared to say anything. “No, well, then here is what we’re going to do.”

Notes:

Edit: I altered the conversation that Luz and Amity have in Luz's office to make Luz not too immoral this early in the fic.

Chapter 6

Summary:

Luz addresses the Boiling Isles.

Every crystal ball in the Boiling Isles, in every home and display window, briefly flickered before transitioning to an image of Captain Wilston. Children across the Isles gazed curiously at the unfamiliar broadcast; older witches and demons remembered the regular public addresses of Belos, and regarded the orbs more carefully. 

“Citizens of the Boiling Isles, be it known that Her Majesty, Luz Noceda, Empress of the Boiling Isles, Savior of Witches and Demons, Vanquisher of The Collector, and Deposer of the tyrant and false prophet Belos, will address the Isles tonight on all channels at 6:30 PM Imperial Standard Time. Long live the Empress, and may she forever watch over us.”

As soon as the notice had concluded, every crystal ball flickered once again and returned to their regular programming, programming that went ignored as the rumor mill instantly sprang into action. The Isles were abuzz with whispered conversations and overly confident speculation alike.

“What do you think is going to happen?”

“She’s definitely going to bring back Coven Brands.”

“Nonsense, Luz would never do that.”

“I think that she’s going to offer to bargain with the rebels to hand over Clawthorne.”

Millions of such conversations of varying connection to reality pervaded both Imperial and Rebel controlled regions as the denizens of the Demon Realm waited, with bated breath, for Her Majesty’s Address to the Isles.

                                                     

Earlier, back in the meeting, Luz laid out her plan to the coven heads. “First, exceptionally talented members of the Empress’ Coven will comprise a new task force to hunt down not just whoever leaked my location, but traitors and dissidents in general.”

If I pull enough all-nighters, Luz thought, then I should be able to select the core of the task force within three weeks.

“Needless to say,” Luz added, “due to the nature of the group’s mission, this task force will handpicked by, and report directly to, me.”

“If they’re part of-” Hunter began speaking.

Luz ignored him and continued speaking. “Second, given the state of the frontlines and because failure to pacify the skull would be unacceptable, I will be enacting conscription.”

Looks like I have even more all-nighters ahead of me. Luz mentally remarked. I hope that Amity doesn’t get as upset about that as she did last time. Luz worried, before dismissing that thought. Eh, that’s a problem for future Luz.

Multiple coven heads tried to comment on Luz’s second proposal, but as she did with Hunter, Luz ignored them, and continued speaking. “Third, to supply the additional troops, the glyph card production facilities will begin operating 24/7.”

Luz turned to Amity and asked, “The printing machines can run continuously, right?”

Amity cupped her hand over her mouth as she tried to recall the technical specifications of the factories, before removing her hand and responding, “Doing so will probably degrade the abomitech mechanisms faster than usual, but theoretically, yes, the printing machines can run continuously.”

“Fantastic,” Luz grinned, “I’ll have you sort that out later today.” When she looked back at the rest of the coven heads her smile dropped. “As for everyone else, if a member of the anti-insurgency task force wants to see certain documents, or interview certain coven members, or even yourselves, you are hereby ordered to comply. If I hear of anyone here attempting to impede this investigation, I will be glad to find your replacement. Am I understood?”

                                                     

Luz closed one folder and added it to the growing pile of candidates for the anti-insurgency task force that she had already rejected. Luz leaned back and ran her fingers through her hair sighing loudly. “Why is good help so hard to find?” Luz moaned.

Luz looked at the larger stacks to her left, which had at the beginning of this task contained the personnel files of hundreds of people in the Empress’ Coven. She had barely made a dent in them, not to mention that these stacks represented only a fraction of the personnel files that she had yet to search through. Letting out another, quieter sigh Luz pulled down another personnel folder and opened it.

Luz only faintly registered the knocking sound coming from her office door, too focused on her work. Of course, the lack of a response didn’t stop this particular individual from just entering Luz’s office anyway. As far as the interloper was concerned, the ring on her left hand was sufficient clearance. “Did you lose track of time again?” asked Amity.

Amity’s words barely cut through Luz’s focus, and her brain struggled to tear itself away from the task that she had been focused on for the past several hours. “Huh?” Luz asked, her mind still a bit dazed.

“It’s almost time to give the address.” Amity gently reminded Luz.

Luz pulled out her scroll from her pocket (she had yet to find a glyph combination that could dispel and resummon her scroll) and looked at the time, which read 5:29 PM. Luz shrugged and remarked “I can squeeze in a bit more work before the speech” before looking back down to read the open personnel file.

Luz heard the distinctive clacking of Amity’s heels approach her desk before a pale-white hand entered her vision, closing the file that she had been reading. Miffed that her work continued to be interrupted, Luz looked up at Amity who wore a somewhat dejected expression and quipped “You know, when we were kids, I didn’t imagine that you would be the work-a-holic in the relationship.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think that would be the case either” Luz chuckled glumly. “Speaking of work, would you please take your hand off this file so that I may get back to it?” Luz asked.

“No.” Amity replied with a playful tone, and a smile on her face.

“Oh,” Luz questioned, grinning back at her wife, “and why might that be?”

Amity smiled archly and answered, “Because you look terrible.”

“What,” Luz asked quietly, shrinking back into herself a bit, “what do you mean?”

“You’ve been working for 10 hours straight, Batata.” Amity clarified. “A mussed-up look may be fine in the privacy of council meetings, but you’re about to address the entirety of the Boiling Isles. Freshen up.”

“Huh?” Luz responded, utterly confused.

Amity rolled her eyes, but internally was enjoying her wife’s dumbfounded expression. No matter how many times she said the words ‘freshen up’ or other such context-dependent instructions, if it wasn’t spelled out what that meant, then Luz wouldn’t be able to figure it out. Something about Luz’s brain made it so that the human was a tad socially inept; Luz needed specifics or instructions just wouldn’t make sense to her. Context alone just wasn’t sufficient for Luz. “I’m telling you to go shower, brush your hair, put on a fresh, wrinkle-free set of clothes, and put on some makeup to hide the bags under your eyes, you goofball.”

Luz sighed. “What would I do without you, Hermosa?”

“You’d probably forget to eat anything and work yourself to the point of starving to death.”

“Hey, that’s not…yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m definitely right,” Amity smirked, “Now, get up and get ready. While you do that, I’ll go double-check the broadcasting equipment. We can’t have the feed cut out during your big speech, now, can we?”

Amity paused, remembering that what Luz had been working on wasn’t the speech but selecting the members of the task force, and asked “You have memorized your speech, right?”

Luz chortled “Of course I have. What do you take me for, a procrastinator?”

“I take you for a hot mess.” Amity rolled her eyes and pecked her wife on the cheek. “My hot mess. Go get cleaned up.”

 

Luz walked into the bathroom attached to her bedroom and closed the door. Peeling off her clothes, Luz looked in the mirror and examined the battered piece of equipment that was her body. She barely paid any attention to the army of scars that she had slowly but surely accumulated over the years, her gaze instead settling on her face, with its frazzled hair, the result of running her fingers through it over and over again as she hunched over paperwork, and the brown eyes at its center. Luz peered into those eyes, or rather, at the puffy, sunken bags right below them, those being the result of said hours of hunching over paperwork taking the place of sleep.

Luz touched the skin under her right eye and remarked “At this rate I’m probably going to have crow’s feet by the time I’m forty like Eda.”

Thinking of Eda, Luz gripped the edge of her bathroom countertop tightly, her eyes going misty. She shook her head, but the motion flowed into a shudder. She stepped into the shower to get out of the cold.

It’s better that she left. Water flowed down her back.

She needed space. The heat soothed her scars.

She came around about Hexside, she’ll come around about this. The washcloth scraped across her skin. 

I know Mom and King would be so proud of me. Suds and grime and salt swirled down the drain. 

 

“Now, doesn’t that feel better?” Amity asked as Luz walked into the broadcasting room. Luz rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help cracking a smile.

“All right, I guess I did look a little beat up,” Luz admitted.

Amity chuckled, “‘A little,’ sure, let’s go with that,” Amity said as she brushed off a bit of dust from the shoulder of Luz’s cloak.

“I believe in you,” Amity reassured her wife, looking up into those brown eyes with conviction. “You can do this, Luz. I’ve never met anyone stronger than you.”

Luz was a bit taken aback by Amity’s words, but quickly regained her composure, pulling Amity in for a hug, and whispering “Thank you.”

Luz then released Amity and sat behind the desk facing the crystal ball.

An illusionist casted a spell circle in front of the crystal ball, activating it. The crystal ball started displaying a countdown. 5. 4. 3. When the crystal ball displayed the number 2 Luz took in a deep breath and readied herself to speak. The core of the crystal ball soon glowed red, indicating that she was live.

“Boiling Isles,” Luz began, conviction in her eyes and strength in her voice, “I address you today not as an Empress, not as a savior or any of that, but as a fellow citizen. A person. A person tired of harbingers of chaos infiltrating the ranks of our peacekeepers, attempting to undermine everything that we have worked so hard to build. I refuse to let that happen.” Luz resisted the impulse to clench her fists. “That is why I am compelled to say the following.”

“To the rebels currently perpetuating chaos and anarchy in the provinces of the Skull and Left Arm, I know that your honeysweet ideals have swayed many to your cause, but if you continue on as you have, the Boiling Isles will not be the utopia that you naively think that it will be. We’ve been down this road before. All that will happen is that a new set of petty warlords and thugs will carve out petty bickering fiefdoms.” Luz took a slow breath, making sure that her emotions didn’t get the better of her. This address was too important to mess up.

“Do you really have the gall to plunge us back into that whirlpool of tyranny and injustice?” Luz let her voice rise an appropriate amount to hammer the point home. “I have yet to meet anyone who didn’t lose friends or family to the carnage that we have just scarcely left behind. How many closed casket wakes did we attend, how many of our loved ones were so butchered, so mangled, so savaged, that there was no other option? How many children, how many parents, how many sisters and brothers and lovers?”

“I’m sure I speak for all loyal citizens when I say that I cannot, I will not return to those days. I will not be a victim again, I will not suffer under the cruel hand of a petty despot. We, all of us, must do everything in our power to leave the horrors of the past in the past.” Luz paused for a couple seconds, readying herself: “This is why I am implementing the extraordinary measure of conscription. To reinforce the brave witches and demons already fighting on the frontline, all able-bodied citizens not already enlisted or employed in agriculture or other industries supplying or supporting the war effort will be issued draft cards. If your draft number is called, you must report to your nearest recruitment station to begin your term of service. Any dependents of those called to serve will be given financial support.”

“Loyal citizens, I know this may seem extreme, but, please, I beg you to remember those days we spent paying off gangs to keep us safe from roving marauders, scrounging in the dirt for food because trade had broken down, and the endless parade of funerals. I understand that this war has gone on for far longer than any of us wanted it to, but we must stay the course. If we do not, we risk making meaningless the sacrifices already paid by every brave soldier who has fought and died for the cause of peace, stability, and freedom. If we stop this fight before it is done, the rebels will usher in another period of destruction, oppression, and death. We cannot have the Boiling Isles once again be divided among those who want to be the next Belos, the next Collector. The Boiling Isles should be crimson by virtue of its foliage, and not because yet more thugs have stained the ground with the blood of the innocent, not when we could have stopped it.”

“The Boiling Isles are my home, not by birth, but by choice, and I will continue to fight tooth and nail to protect it. To all those that yearn to return to days of peace, to days of fulfilling meals with family, to days of happiness, join me, join us, in freeing the Isles from the threat of anarchy. Together we will win the war! Together we will prevail! Together we will finally be able to cast off our weapons, sheathe our claws and fangs, lay down our glyphs and spells of war, and join one another in building a peace that we and our descendants can live their entire lives within, never knowing strife or pain! Together we will fight, so that we may savor the privilege of never having to fight again!”

                                                     

These words rang out across the Boiling Isles, in homes, shops, taverns, schools, and somewhere deep within a compound in the upper left arm, where several figures stood around their own crystal ball as the closing words of the Empress’ introductory speech died away.

They stood there, in silence, as the Empress went on to explain the details of the new policies. They remained silent through the closing remarks, through the Imperial anthem playing over a stylized image of the Titan’s skull, the royal crest of House Noceda.

Among those standing around that crystal ball was a man, a man who looked much older than he was due to the stress of trying to hold together a fractious coalition of rebels. He turned to look at a woman who was exactly as old as she looked, and broke the silence with a smirk. “Your kid’s quite something, isn’t she?”

The woman glared at him. “She stopped being my kid when she put a crown on her head.”

Chapter 7

Summary:

Luz visits the Royal Physician.

Amity laid on her bed, head resting in her hand, as she played with one of the locks of hair that framed Luz’s face. As she concentrated on the soft, comforting sounds of Luz’s breathing, Amity smiled. She looks so peaceful, Amity thought, as she gazed upon Luz’s face.

At that moment, Luz’s peaceful expression shifted into a deeply anxious one, and her head began shaking back and forth as she started letting out pained cries. “no… no… no…. No. No. No. NO. NO. NO. NO!”

“Luz?” Amity asked while lightly nudging Luz’s shoulder, her tone a unique mixture of concern, anxiety, and resigned familiarity with the situation.

Amity’s nudging and calling of Luz’s name were all it took to wake her up. Luz’s past wasn’t exactly one that had fostered a habit of sleeping deeply. Luz’s eyes opened groggily, and when she saw Amity she leaned her head back into the pillow forcefully and groaned “Sorry, Amity, I don’t know why this keeps happening.”

“It’s okay, Luz, you don’t have to apologize for having a nightmare,” Amity said, running a hand through her wife’s hair to comfort her.

Luz closed her eyes tightly and quietly muttered “Still, I don't like making you worry.”

Amity leaned down to kiss Luz before reassuringly saying “I’m your wife, I have to worry about you,” which earned a grim chuckle from Luz as she extracted herself from under the covers.

Luz reached over to her nightstand to grab her scroll before promptly groaning when she saw the topmost reminder. “Dang it, that’s today?” Luz bemoaned.

“What’s the matter, Luz?” Amity asked quizzically.

Luz sighed, “I just got a reminder that my appointment with the Royal Physician is today.”

Amity snickered, “Luz, you don’t exactly need to make an appointment to see your personal physician. You can just show up.”

“I know it’s silly,” Luz started as she rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment, “but I made an appointment so that I could put off telling them that I’m pregnant. This way I could keep my promise to you, and tell the physician, but also focus on work for a while.”

“Of course, that’s why,” Amity sighed, closing her eyes briefly as she internally worked through the information that Luz had actually procrastinated on something, but only so she could keep working.

When Amity opened her eyes, she saw that Luz had become somber. “What’s the matter, Luz?” Amity softly asked.

“It’s just… I just realized something” Luz vaguely answered.

“And what’s that?”

“That it’s a good thing that Viney turned down the position of Royal Physician when I offered it to her. Since she’s a suspect, if she had taken it, I’d have to make her step down.”

When Luz briefly paused, Amity noticed that Luz looked like she was about to tear up and began rubbing her hand across Luz’s arm to reassure her, which thankfully worked as Luz’s eyes cleared up. “I… I remember what she said to me when I asked her why she refused. She said that she couldn’t because we’re friends, that healers can’t have close emotional attachments to their patients, because it impedes objective analysis.”

Amity, sensing that nothing good would come from letting Luz ruminate further on this topic, asked Luz what else she had on the agenda for today.

Luz chuckled and joked “A simpler question would be what don’t I have on the agenda.” 

When Luz declined to elaborate, Amity rolled her eyes and asked, “Such as?”

“Well, first, I need to look over the reports from the governor of the Right Arm. The Head of Finance has been breathing down my neck lately, saying that, as things stand, we can’t afford the surge in troops that the draft will bring in. So, I thought, the right arm was liberated a while ago, and we haven’t had anything major incidents there, we could probably afford a modest tax increase on the Right Arm. I asked Governor Harley to give me regular reports on how the public is reacting to the new policy. Hopefully we won’t have any unrest, but just to be safe I ordered the local overseer to keep the provincial police on alert. If this trial run goes well, I’m going to apply the same tax increases across all of the more secure provinces. After that, I need to look over the reports from Governor Smith.” Luz grimaced at that thought “I‘m worried that some in the Upper Chest might still be rebel agitators. The Upper Chest was under rebel control for so long, and I’d rather be safe than sorry. Following that, I’m going to oversee the field tests of the next generation glyphing gun. I want to get that rolled out as a soon as possible. And then after that I have like twelve more things that I need to do before...”

“You have that much on your schedule for today?” Amity’s eyes bulged.

“No,” Luz began, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, good, I was worried.” Amity immediately said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Again,” Luz said, a faint hint of annoyance in her voice, “you didn’t let me finish, Amity. I was going to say that no, that’s all that I need to do before we head off to see the physician at 11, but I have more tasks scheduled for the afternoon.”

Amity’s jaw dropped. How has she not dropped dead from exhaustion? Amity thought, absolutely bewildered that Luz had somehow, miraculously, avoided making Amity a widow.

Before Amity could change the subject to something that wouldn’t make her fear for the future of her marriage, Luz then began listing off the bafflingly long list of tasks she had planned to do in the afternoon, and Amity could have sworn she felt her own heart stop.

 

Later that day, Luz, her elbow hooked around Amity’s, walked into the medical wing of the castle, her mind firing on all-cylinders, intrusive thoughts flooding her brain. You’re putting the baby in danger. The physician could be a traitor too. Why are you risking it?

With one arm occupied, Luz resorted to clenching her teeth instead of her usual tactic of running both of her hands over the edges of her cloak, a substitute which proved to be decidedly ineffective.

No real mother would endanger her baby.

Luz promptly clenched her teeth even tighter, as she and Amity strolled across the reception area to the front desk. Said receptionist had just bitten down on a sliver of winged-nose jerky, only to notice out of the corner of her eye just who was standing in front of her.

“Your Majest-,” the surprised receptionist started to speak, before promptly choking on the jerky that she had been eating.

Her instincts took over, and Luz immediately hopped over the desk, the tail end of her cloak billowing out behind her as she vaulted the counter.

Lifting up the receptionist from her chair, Luz supported her with her right hand while slamming the heel of her left hand between the receptionist’s shoulder blades. After five strikes, Luz switched to performing the Heimlich maneuver, gripping her fist in her other hand before thrusting it into the receptionist’s abdomen.

Once.

Twice.

*Splat.*

The sight of a small, moistened piece of jerky hitting the counter paired with the sound of the receptionist coughing prompted Luz to release her.

“Are you okay now?” Luz asked.

The receptionist, who was sitting on the floor, letting her breathing rate slowly return to normal, nodded. “Thank… thank you, Your Majesty.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Luz gave an apologetic smile to the receptionist. “I was kind of responsible for you choking in the first place.”

Saving lives that were only in danger because of you. How nostalgic.

Luz briefly ran her fingers along the edges of her cloak before hopping back over the desk.

“If you’ll head to your private observation room, I’ll let the Head Physician know you’re here, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you.” Luz said before hooking her elbow around Amity’s again, this time squeezing Amity’s arm a little bit more tightly than she had been prior to walking up to the receptionist.

 

Sitting in the royal observation room, as they waited for the physician, Luz’s mind refused to let up.

Mami would be ashamed of you, risking the life of her first grandchild like this.

Luz began tracing her hands over the fringes of her cloak, trying to banish the intrusive thoughts.

King’s niece or nephew, entrusted to the care of the worst parent in this or any other realm. You’re a disgrace.

Luz’s hands fluttered faster and faster, the whorls of her fingertips dancing over the gold trim. Faster. Faster. Faster. Faster. Faster. Fa-

“Huh?!” Luz let out with a start, shocked out of her downward spiral by Amity’s sudden, and total, embrace.

Luz sighed. “I did it again just now. Didn’t I?”

“Just a little bit, Batata,” Amity affirmed; judgement completely absent from her tone.

“Sorry.” Luz said meekly.

“It’s okay, Luz,” Amity reassured Luz, rubbing her hand against Luz’s back. “May I ask what caused it this time?”

Luz opened her mouth to speak, only for shame to wash over her, ripping her voice away.

“Luz?” Amity questioned.

After trying to speak again, Luz elected to nod instead.

“Luz,” Amity sighed, “I’m hugging you right now. I can’t tell what you just did.”

Out of options, Luz continued silently clinging to Amity.

“If you want me to see what you’re doing, then you’re going to have to relea-“

Luz immediately squeezed tighter.

“Okay. Okay. We can stay like this. Let me know when you’re ready to talk.”

For several minutes, Luz and Amity embraced each other, Amity’s reassuring words and touch only briefly interrupted by the sound of the door opening and Amity shooing someone away. Luz hated those few moments, those horrible seconds.

“Do you feel ready to talk now, Batata?” Amity softly inquired.

“Y… yeah,” Luz timidly mumbled.

Amity waited for Luz to continue.

“I… I’m scared,” Luz stated, as if that much wasn’t already blatantly obvious. “I… I know it’s irrational. I know the baby would be in greater danger if we never saw the physician, but…” Luz trailed off.

“But, what?” Amity asked.

“I’m worried the physician will hurt the baby.”

“You personally appointed our physician, Luz,” Amity reasoned.

“Yeah well, I also appointed the council, and most of the other suspects for whoever leaked our location, so maybe I’m just incapable of figuring out who’s a good person,” Luz retorted.

“…Luz,” Amity quietly began, “I know it’s tough, but you can’t ever be fully certain that someone isn’t hiding who they really are. So, unless you have some evidence incriminating the physician, I’m going to have to ask you to set your fears aside and do what’s right.”

“I… I just want our baby to be safe.” Luz nearly cried out, tears threatening to stream down her face.

“I know you do, Luz. That’s why we’re here. There’s nothing safer than making sure that they receive the best medical care on the Boiling Isles and ensuring that they’re healthy.” Amity paused. “We’re doing the right thing by coming here. You know that, right?”

“…Yeah,” Luz relented, “I know. I just… I can’t stop worrying.”

“I know, Luz. I worry too,” Amity said soothingly.

“Wait, you do?” Luz responded, surprised.

“Luz, how have you, after the thousands of times that I’ve come to you for advice and reassurance, not figured that out?” Amity questioned, chuckling.

“Huh, I guess I really am clueless sometimes, aren’t I?” Luz said, a degree of mirth returning to her voice.

“Yes, yes you are, Luz. Even so, I’ll always love you, Batata,” Amity reassured.

“And I you, Hermosa.”

“Now, how about we call in the physician that I had to kick out?” Amity asked, somewhat cheekily in the hopes that it would help cheer up her wife.

“Heh. Yeah, okay, I think I’m ready to tell them now.” Luz replied.

Amity smiled, kissing Luz before she went to open the door, through which the Royal Physician tentatively walked through, and stood there in awkward silence, unsure of how to broach the subject of having seen the Empress herself on the verge of tears.

“Empress,” the physician said, deciding to brave bringing up what they had seen, “if I may ask, are you doing all right?”

“I’m just having an off-day, Healer Ramus.” Luz lied, the outright fiction slipping effortlessly past her lips.

The Royal Physician looked at her with a mixture of confusion and compassion, clearly feeling that the matter should be interrogated further, before deciding against it, concluding “I hope you feel better soon then, Titan knows you’ve earned a peaceful life,” to which Luz gave a half-hearted smile in return, but said nothing.

“Well, moving on from that, what brings you to me today, Empress?” Ramus said, a hint of their usual cheerfulness returning to their voice.

Luz remained silent, until Amity grabbed Luz’s hand in her own, gave it a reassuring squeeze, and nodded at her.

Luz took a deep breath, and began responding confidently, “I’m pr-" before instantly shattering. “I’m… I’m… I’m… I’m... I’m…” Luz stammered, panic slowly stripping her of her ability to speak once again.

Amity sighed, before deciding to speed the whole process along by breaking the news. “She’s pregnant,” Amity explained, exacerbating the panicked expression on Luz, whose head snapped towards her wife, and whose free hand began its normal ritual without the company of its partner.

“Normally I would ask if this was planned, but given the interspecies nature of the matter, that question is unnecessary. As such, I would like to offer my congratulations, Your Majesties. I imagine Mrs. Blight-Noceda has been hounding you for kids for a while, Empress,” Ramus responded.

Luz, her panic slowly having subsided as she ran her fingers over her cloak, chuckled and affirmed their suspicion, “You’re definitely not wrong about that.”

Amity spluttered, “How could you have possibly known about that?!”

The Royal Physician looked at Amity with the most deadpan expression that the two had ever seen on the demon. “Your Majesty, when you’ve been a healer as long as I have, you can tell when someone has baby fever, and you’ve had it bad for a long time.”

Amity promptly fell back on her old habit of mimicking a tomato, and her ears wildly flapped out of embarrassment.

Luz, seeing Amity’s reaction to Ramus’ blunt explanation, snorted. I haven’t seen her this flustered in years. Luz hoped that it didn’t make her a bad person for indulging in a little schadenfreude in that moment.

“Now, when did you drink the conception potion?” Ramus asked, turning to write something on their clipboard.

“It was ten weeks ago,” Luz responded.

The Royal Physician slowly looked back up from their clipboard, a serious expression on their face. “Why did you wait so long to see me?”

Luz fell back into silence and shuffled in her seat a bit.

“At the latest you should have made an appointment as soon as you confirmed that the potion was successful.”

Luz’s free hand started running along her cloak a little faster.

“In fact, in the case of planned pregnancies, it’s best to inform your healer, that’s me, prior to getting pregnant. That way care plans can be devised, potential problems can be discussed, and…”

Wow, the kid’s not even born, and you’ve already failed as a mother. Congratulations.

Luz tuned out Ramus’ continued fussing and wrenched her right hand free from Amity’s grip. She needed to destress properly.

Closing her eyes, Luz took a deep breath, and tuned out everything besides her own mind.

Calm down, Luz thought.

Yeah, as if you could-

Luz violently shook her head, shunning the uninvited criticism from her mind.

Focus on the cloak, Luz. Focus on the cloak, on the gold trim touching the base of your fingers, and on the silky texture of the fabric grazing along your fingertips. Up and down, up and down, yes, that’s good. One more time. Ah, that’s better. How did I ever cope without this cloak?

Luz opened her eyes to see her wife and physician looking at her with concern in their eyes. Luz took a deep breath and apologized. “I’m sorry for that, and I apologize for not letting you know about the baby sooner. I’ve… been dealing with problems that prevented me from doing so.”

“Uh-huh,” Ramus responded, suspicion laced into their words, “well, just make sure to tell me sooner next time if you decide that you want another kid.”

Luz noticed that their eyes momentarily flicked over to Amity as they said that last part. You’ve got her pegged to a tee, doc, Luz mentally snickered, before she briefly looked over to Amity, finding that she was still blushing.

Luz reached over and grabbed Amity’s hand. “You really do look beautiful when you’re all flustered, Gorgeous,” Luz said in Spanish.

“My face is already red enough, Sweet Potato, so please don’t make it worse,” Amity whimpered. “Let’s just get this appointment back on track so my face can return to normal.”

“All right, sorry, my love.”

“Now, just to make sure, am I correct in assuming that Amity is the other parent?” Ramus asked.

Luz raised an eyebrow at that “Yes… why wouldn’t she be?”

Ramus shrugged “It could be for various reasons, some don’t want to risk passing on some condition, others don’t want to, or sometimes simply can’t, add their blood to the potion, others just don’t want their kid to inherit some physical trait they have, the list goes on.”

“Oh,” embarrassed, Luz fell silent, an awkward silence filling the room.

“Yes, I’m the other parent.” Amity confirmed.

“Thank you. I had to be sure. Next, I’m going to need you to make a couple changes. First, I’m going to put you on a prescription of prenatal potions. I’ll have my assistant manufacture the first batch later today.”

Wait, they’re going to tell someone?!, Luz thought, panicking.

Luz rapidly turned to look at Amity, who noticed her wife’s panic, and squeezed her hand reassuringly, before leaning in and whispering “Remember, we’re doing the right thing by coming here.”

Luz took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’ll try to remain calm.”

Ramus continued “Also, Empress, I’m going to have to ask that you start varying your diet to better support the baby’s development, rather than just continuing to eat only sandwiches and the occasional fried griffon eggs.”

Luz blushed, “I… I’m already taking care of that.”

“Really?” Ramus exclaimed, momentarily surprised, before donning a look of comprehension. “You’ve been experiencing cravings, haven’t you? What have they been for?”

Luz nodded, blushing brightly, and mumbled, “Steamed eyeballs and fairy pie.”

The Royal Physician’s eyes instantly bulged out of their sockets. After a few awkward moments they cleared their throat and said “Wow, well, that’s certainly something. Thank you for finally eating normal food.”

Luz rolled her eyes.

“However, please do be sure not to eat just desserts. I meant it when I said that you really do need to vary your diet, hybridization and conception potions can be a tricky combination so it’s best that your health, and thus the baby’s, is as good as it can be. How much sugar do you eat in a given week?” Ramus inquired.

Luz scoffed, “That fairy pie was one of the first sweet things I’ve had in months. Sugar crashes don’t exactly keep my mind sharp enough to look over paperwork for ten hours a day, now do they?”

“Wait, you spend ten hours a day on paperwork? Regularly staying sedentary for long periods of time is not healthy,” Ramus chastised.

“It’s usually more if I’m honest,” Luz shrugged, “I have a country to run after all, besides I’m still thin, aren’t I?”

Ramus’ eyes narrowed, “Yes, but now I’m getting the sneaking suspicion that that’s the case due to skipping meals, and not because you’re hitting the grudgby court every night.”

Amity snorted, and Luz shot her a look of annoyance.

“I’m guessing based on that exchange that I hit the nail on the head,” Ramus deadpanned.

Luz grumbled like a petulant child.

“Empress, for the sake of your baby’s health, I really do need you to not only stop skipping meals but be more active throughout the day.”

“What,” Luz joked, “should I start leading from the frontline again?”

An instantly panicked Amity glared at Luz, “Don’t even joke about that!”

Luz withered, “Okay, sorry! I’ll see if I can add a treadmill and standing desk to my office so I can keep moving some of the time while doing paperwork.”

“That would be acceptable. Thank you, Empress. Now, I have two more questions for you. The first is have you been experiencing any bloating so far?” Ramus asked.

“Yes, is that a bad sign?” Luz asked nervously.

“Not at all,” the Royal Physician reassured Luz, shaking their head, “it’s normal and expected during pregnancy. Well, at least for witches and most varieties of demons. I obviously don’t have any other human patients, so I can’t be one-hundred percent sure, but given the substantial similarities between what I’ve observed of your physiology and that of witches, I doubt that it’s a cause for concern.”

Luz let out a sigh of relief, before pausing, “Wait, you said that you had two more questions. What’s the second one?”

Ramus smiled “I was just about to get to that. With everything out of the way, would Your Majesties like to see your baby?”

Whatever hint of a blush that may have still existed on Amity’s face was completely outshined by the ear to ear smile she adopted.

Luz herself choked up a bit and nodded.

“To do this I will need you to take off your cloak and lift up your shirt, Empress,” said the Royal Physician.

Luz’s eyes filled with panic, and she looked to Amity, who nodded with a reassuring smile, and with eyes filled with hope at the thought of being able to see their baby for the first time.

Luz took a deep breath. The appointment’s almost over, Luz, don’t panic at the most important part. Luz thought as she briefly ran her fingers along the edges of her cloak, before taking it off. Oh, I feel naked without that on. Luz then lifted up her shirt, exposing her flat midriff.

Ramus spun a dark blue spell circle around their right index finger, which caused the tip to glow a similar shade of blue. Pressing their index finger against Luz’s stomach, Ramus traced their finger around Luz’s midriff, drawing a dark-blue, glowing rectangle. When the perimeter of the rectangle was completed, the skin bounded by the glowing perimeter appeared to fade away. Oh, this is weird. Those, those are my intestines.

As if the day couldn’t get any stranger, the royal physician then made a pinching motion and pulled backwards. As they did so the image shown on Luz’s stomach shifted to show different cross-sections of Luz’s abdomen. I’ve entered a house through a demon’s mouth, regularly seen my friends eat stuff that was still moving while on their plates, and watched someone have a conversation while decapitated, and yet this might be the weirdest thing that I’ve seen on the Boiling Isles.

After adjusting the image for what felt like forever, Ramus grabbed one part of the image and threw it up into the air. “Your Majesties,” Ramus said, zooming in on a small blip in the image before tapping it, “this is your baby.” Immediately after tapping the 2-dimensional blip, it appeared to grow outward, and quickly formed into a 3-dimensional depiction of an odd, vaguely humanoid creature.

Amity gasped, putting her hand over her mouth, crying tears of joy within seconds of seeing the baby.

“And this,” Ramus added, a smile on their face “is your baby’s heartbeat.” Ramus then tapped the floating image, and the sound of a fast, regular rhythm closer to the sound of a galloping horse than an adult heartbeat filled the room.

It was Luz’s turn to gasp this time, and as she curled her arms around her midriff a soft, delicate smile crossed her face. "Hey, kid, it… it’s nice to meet you. I... I’m your mommy.” Luz tearfully said in Spanish. “Your mom and I already love you so much. You’re going to love her. She’s the second-best person I’ve ever met. Though,” Luz adopted a jokingly conspiratorial tone, and whispered “I’m sure you’re going to bump everyone down one spot."

“I…” Luz continued, her tone transitioning back to one of vulnerable sincerity, "I know I’m probably not going to be even half as good at being a parent as your mom already is, but I’ll try. I’ll try my best. You deserve that much."

“We’re really going to be parents, Luz,” Amity gasped out between tears, “we’re really having a baby.”

“Yeah, we… we really are.” Luz responded, the reality of her situation having truly sunk in just now. For as ridiculous as it may seem, given how many times she had emptied her guts into the nearest container, Luz hadn’t really “felt pregnant” up until she heard that oddly fast, but oh-so-wonderful heartbeat. Now though, now Luz felt it in her core that she… she was going to be a mother.

 

That night, Amity and Luz were cuddled up in bed, with Amity laying her head on Luz’s shoulder, looking at the image of their baby on Amity’s scroll.

“Luz, may I ask you a question?” Amity asked out of the blue.

“Sure, what do you want to know?” Luz responded.

“Well,” Amity began, pausing briefly to mull over what she was going to say, “I know that you don’t want to tell people about the baby right now, but when you are, how do you want us to do that?”

Luz took a few seconds to respond, before quietly saying “I… I don’t know.”

“We could tell just family first,” Amity suggested, before immediately pausing and adding, “then again, he’s probably just going to tell everyone anyway. So, we might as well tell our friends at the same time as Edric.”

When Luz didn’t respond, Amity turned her head up from the scroll that they were both looking at to look at Luz instead and found her wife wearing a somber expression. “Luz?” Amity tentatively asked.

Luz gulped and, with a strained tension in her voice, admitted, “While I don’t want the news to get out yet, there is someone I want to tell.”

“Really?” Amity responded, slightly shocked. “Who is it?”

Luz’s eyes flicked back and forth, as she tried to muster up the energy to answer Amity’s question. “King. I… I want to tell King. We haven’t visited his grave in a while, and he deserves to know that he’s going to be an uncle.”

Amity couldn't help but smile at Luz’s tenderness and nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. We can go next weekend if you’d like.”

Luz gave a small smile “Yeah, I’d like tha-” *Yawn*

Amity chuckled. “Maybe we should go to sleep,” Amity lightly teased, dispelling her scroll.

In response Luz pulled out her own scroll and brought up the photo that she had taken of their baby and proceeded to stare at it.

Amity rolled her eyes "And you tease me about being baby-crazed, you hypocrite."

"That's only because you are baby-crazed, *YAWN!* Gorgeous." Luz replied in Spanish, attempting to tease Amity, of which the attempt was slightly undercut by how tired Luz was, and the fact that Luz couldn't pull her eyes away from the photo of their baby.

At that moment Luz's palisman jumped up onto the bed and snatched Luz's scroll away from her.

"Hey!" Luz tiredly cried out.

Amity snickered, giving Luz's palisman some scratching under her chin as a reward to which the wooden otter gave a pleased, asthmatic-sounding chirp in response. "See, Luz, even Maeve thinks you need to go to sleep."

Luz muttered "... traitor," but couldn't keep a slight smile from crossing her face, before letting out another massive yawn.

Amity and Luz looked at each other for a few seconds as a blush crossed Luz's cheeks and she quietly relented "All right, maybe I do need to go to sleep."

“Told you so.” Amity hummed triumphantly, pulling the covers over them, and pulling herself up against Luz.

"I love you, Gorgeous." Luz said tiredly, laying a hand over her midriff, and turning her back to Amity to better fit against her.

"I love you too, Sweet Potato." Amity responded, laying a hand over Luz's.

Cuddled up against each other, Amity and Luz fell asleep dreaming of the day when they could finally hold their child in their arms.

Notes:

Credit goes to Moringmark for the idea of Glyphing Guns.
https://www.reddit.com/r/TheOwlHouse/comments/qg72h1/moringmark_glyphing_gun/

Chapter 8

Summary:

The anti-insurgency task force gets a leader.

It was long past sunset when Inspector Andrew Davies made it home to his apartment in Lumbarna, capital of the Abdomen province. The hustle and bustle of the city had died down, replaced by the quiet ambiance of the night, characterized by quiet breezes blowing in from the Abdominal Sea, and the occasional faint howl of a distant Chomping Conifer calling out for a mate.

Oh, you really screwed up this time, Drew. Callie’s definitely going to be upset at you for coming home this late, Andrew Davies chastised himself before opening the door to his home to find his wife waiting in the foyer with a glower on her face. “You’re late, again.”

Why couldn’t I have been wrong? Davies mentally bemoaned.

“I’m afraid it couldn’t be avoided, Callie,” Andrew replied, taking off his dark blue cloak and hanging it up on the coat rack. “I needed to submit a report to HQ about a case before heading home. We finally caught the thieves who stole that abomatron prototype from Blight Industries.”

Callie rolled her eyes, “You may be a cop, Andrew, but you’re also a parent, and I’d really appreciate it if you started acting like one.”

“I’d be a failure at both if I just ignored dangerous military hardware being nabbed and sold on the black market, Callie,” Davies retorted.

Callie sighed, “And you’re the only person in your entire department? Nobody else there could have possibly taken care of it?”

“Callie,” Andrew replied, “This was too important to just hand off to someone else.”

Callie scowled, “Stop trying to take the world on your shoulders.”

“Look, I promise I’ll call ahead to let you know that I’m going to be late next time.” Andrew attempted bargaining.

“Next time, okay, next time. When there’s a whole armed uprising in the middle of the city that you have to put down by yourself? You’re not in the Army anymore, Andrew, we’re not in the Army anymore! What happened to us settling down and enjoying that?”

Andrew opened his mouth, but she barrelled over him.

”You told me you were going to do less, you told me I wasn’t going to be sitting up to all hours of the night wondering if you’re alive or dead, wondering if your children are going to grow up without a father! And now you’re telling me you’ll make sure to call me the next time you break your word again.” Callie spat. “Was it all lies?”

He stood frozen, unable to form a coherent thought.

“Well?!” Callie demanded. “Answer the question! Did you mean what you told me before?”

“I… I’m sorry,” Andrew softly said.

“That’s not an answer to my question,” came the harsh reply.

“I know… I-”

“LOOK ME IN THE EYES WHEN YOU TALK TO ME!” his wife screamed.

Looking back up at his wife, Andrew realized that, despite all he had gone through, he had never truly experienced fear like this before. Immediately, his stomach sank, his heart raced, and his bile sac discharged as much magic into his bloodstream as it possibly could. Fear filled his eyes, and Andrew began to stammer, “It… I… No...”

Andrew began internally screaming at himself, in a desperate attempt to wrest back control over his petrified body. TELL HER THE TRUTH! TELL HER THAT YOU MEANT WHAT YOU SAID! STOP STAMMERING LIKE A CRETIN!

The whole time Callie just stood there, her eyes boring into him, as if trying to drill an answer out of him, an answer they ultimately received.

“I… I don’t know.” Andrew softly said.

After what felt like forever, Callie’s lower lip began to quiver, and she angrily bit it to stop its traitorous behavior.

Turning away from him, Callie, with an agonized blend of restrained sadness and primal anger, hissed, “I’m going to bed. Feel free to join me when you’ve decided your word means something.”

Andrew stood there, stunned, as the love of his life left him alone in the foyer.

When Andrew heard their bedroom door slam shut, he fell to his knees, and prayed to the Titan that he hadn’t just doomed his marriage.

 

Waking up in his grandfather’s tattered old leather recliner, the only thing that the old man could pass on, all of his other possessions having been looted or destroyed, Andrew Davies briefly wondered why he felt a splitting headache, before remembering what happened the previous night, and how it had ended with him crying himself to sleep.

Oh, right, my life fell apart. Perfect. Andrew thought, mentally castigating himself.

Andrew ran his hand through his hair and clenched his fist, pulling on his scalp. I brought this on myself. I’m a terrible dad and a terrible husband.

After another minute of self-pity Andrew Davies sighed, and muttered “All right, stop feeling sorry for yourself, Andrew. It’s time to figure out how to make it up to them.”

Well, I guess I should first go find Callie and apologize. Then, maybe we can all do something as a family this afternoon. Callie’s right, I need to spend more time with Sam and Billy.

After thinking about it for a bit, Andrew thought, Yeah, that seems like a good plan.

Getting up to go find Callie, Andrew Davies looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room and promptly panicked. IT’S NOON?!

Bolting up out of his seat, Andrew raced to grab his cloak, before screeching to a halt, remembering one vital piece of information. It was the weekend.

Andrew then noticed that the apartment was unusually quiet. The usual sound of raucous toddlers, his wife’s usual humming, and the disgruntled clucking of the Davies’ ornery dwarf cockatrice were all distinctly absent.

“Honey? Kids?” Andrew called out, as he began searching the apartment. Naturally, the last room that he could have checked, the kitchen, held the answer of where his family was.

Andrew pulled the note from the icebox, the dab of adhesive slime that Callie had affixed it to the icebox with stretching quite a distance before peeling off of the slick icebox exterior with an audible *schlap!*

Reading the note only further dampened Andrew’s mood.

Dear Drew,

The weather is nice out, so I’ve taken Billy, Sam, and Timmy out to the park.

Don’t think that this means that we’re done talking about what happened last night.

I know you mean well, but you can’t keep coming home this late. Billy and Sam need a father, not a cop that might as well be a stranger to them.

Also, the longer that bird goes without seeing you the angrier it gets, and if I have to field anymore noise complaints from our neighbors because of Timmy’s screeching I’m going to set my head on fire.

Please, I know you can do better.

Sincerely,

Callie

“Callie is right,” Andrew muttered, “I need to get my act together.”

Well, at least I can spend this time figuring out how to make it up to Callie and the kids. Andrew thought.

As if on cue, the home crow phone began cawing.

Andrew sighed, heading to pick up the phone, thinking that had better not be a salesman. I am not in the mood to deal with that right now.

“Hello?” Andrew asked.

“Greetings, am I speaking with Inspector Andrew Neil Davies?”

Why does his voice sound familiar? Andrew wondered, before responding. “Yes, this is he. Who am I speaking to?”

“My name is Captain Wilston. Her Majesty, Empress Luz Noceda has requested your presence at the castle tomorrow at 3:00 PM. Arrive at the front gate no later than 2:45 PM, as you will be escorted to a secure meeting room.”

The caller’s response caused Andrew Davies’ old habits to kick in, and, despite the conversation taking place via crow, he saluted with his back ramrod straight. “As Her Highness commands!” Andrew Davies belted out.

“Long Live the Empress.” Captain Wilston declared before promptly hanging up.

As he processed what just happened, the only thing that Andrew Davies could think was, I should iron my cloak.

 

The hissing of steam as he ironed his cloak was punctuated by the sound of the front door opening. Andrew Davies only just managed to turn off the iron and turn around before his children slammed into him hugging him, while his standoffish dwarf cockatrice lazily trotted towards him, before rubbing up against his leg, letting out a satisfied cluck, and then walking away.

“DADDY! DADDY! GUESS WHAT WE DID AT THE PARK!” shouted Sam, with the lack of volume control toddlers are known for.

“YEAH, DADDY! GUESS! Billy likewise yelled, agreeing with his twin sister’s plan.

Andrew chuckled “Well, what did you do?”

“NO!” Sam whined “You have to guess!”

“YEAH!” Billy agreed.

Andrew laughed again “Oh, all right.” Andrew dramatically stroked his chin, pretending to think deeply “Oh, I know!” Andrew “guessed” with glee “You fought a dragon to save its horde of delicious apple crabs.”

The twins giggled.

“Nope!” Billy enthusiastically replied.

“Guess again, Daddy!” Sam commanded and started jumping up in excitement.

“Ah, I was sure that was right.” Andrew replied with an exaggerated sigh. “Well,” Andrew paused, “if it’s not that, then it must be that you found a treasure chest overflowing with snails.”

“Nope, again!” Billy said, grinning from ear to ear.

Sam proceeded to jump faster and faster.

“Ah, well then it must be…” Andrew continued.

“WE MADE A FRIEND!” Sam screamed at the top of her lung, bouncing up and down as fast as she could.

“Really?” Andrew dramatically gasped “You did? And then what happened?”

“We went down the slide! Up ‘n’ down, up ‘n’ down!” Billy happily answered.

YEAH! YEAH” Sam affirmed “BUT KEVIN, THAT’S HIS NAME, TOLD US THE GROUND WAS REALLY THE BOILING SEA! SO NO FALLING OFF THE SLIDE! WE CLIMBED BACK UP!”

“Yeah, and then we played tag! ‘Cause the ground was deadly the not-its climbed around the outside of the playground to get away!”

“Oh?” Andrew asked, chuckling. “And how many times did Mommy have to heal a scrape?”

“THIS MANY!” replied a very proud Sam holding up four fingers.

After several more minutes of the twins excitedly sharing what they did with their “bestest friend ever” as Billy called Kevin, Callie, who had been watching the scene with a small smile on her face, stepped forward and said “They definitely had a lot of fun. Kevin’s mother and I set up a playdate at the same park tomorrow afternoon.” Callie’s smile then turned a bit more fragile, though not enough to be obvious to the kids “You could come with us? Make it a nice family outing.”

Andrew nervously laughed, and explained “I wish I could, but something came up, so I won’t be available tomorrow afternoon.”

Callie’s smile became forced and through partially gritted teeth asked, “What do you mean?”

Andrew sighed, and looked at Sam and Billy “Kids, go play in your room.”

“BUT I WANT TO PLAY WITH YOU!” Sam whined.

“YEAH!” Billy agreed.

Andrew chuckled, “I need to talk to Mommy first, and then we can play a game together. Okay?”

The twins studied their father’s expression, looked at each other, and then back at Andrew asking “Promise?”

“I promise.” Andrew nodded.

“… Fine.” Sam relented.

“Okay, Daddy.” Billy seconded, following his sister’s lead.

“Thank you.” Andrew softly said, hugging his children. “Now,” Andrew gestured to their room in the back of the apartment, “go have fun.”

The thunderous roar of stomping feet echoed throughout the house as the twins raced off to their room, evidently startling Timmy as a screech followed by nails scraping against the floor punctuated the cacophony of little sneakers slamming against wood.

“So,” Callie began, “what came up?”

“I got a call from the Captain of the Royal Guard while you and the kids were out. I’ve been summoned to the castle by the Empress herself.” Andrew explained.

“What?!” Callie exclaimed, stunned. “Why does she want you there?”

Andrew shook his head. “He didn’t say why, just that I have to arrive at the castle no later than 2:45 PM tomorrow.”

Callie moved her jaw, attempting to speak, but nothing came out. After a while, Callie just sighed. “Go play with the kids.”

Andrew, nervousness in his eyes, examined Callie’s expression, before tentatively nodding, and making his way to the twins’ room.

When Andrew was out of earshot, Callie sighed, and the sadness that she had been holding at bay flooded into her eyes, and she muttered “Why did I have to fall in love with a fucking patriot?”

 

The next day, Luz approached the large mahogany-colored doors of the council room and tapped the light glyph in the center. Before stepping into the vast stone chamber Luz said to the two guards following her, “Stand watch out here and let Inspector Davies into the council room as soon as he arrives.”

“Yes, Empress!’

“Your Highness!”

Luz walked into the council room and closed the large doors behind her. Walking up to the council table Luz laid her eyes on her ornate, gold-rimmed chair. Why did I make this thing so gaudy? There’s conveying a sense of authority, and then there’s decorating for Versailles, and this definitely falls into the latter.

Pulling out her somewhat tasteless chair, Luz took her seat, and placed the small stack of folders she was carrying down on the table.

Within seconds Luz began tapping her feet, attempting to occupy her mind. I should have brought something to work on until he arrives.

Less than a minute passed before the large council doors opened.

Luz pulled out her scroll and checked the time. Hm, he’s five minutes early.

Closing the door behind him, Inspector Davies walked up to the council table and saluted, his back ramrod straight. Davies loudly called out “I have answered your summons, Empress. How may I be of assistance, Your Highness?”

“Inspector Davies, that is certainly the question of the hour.” Luz responded. “If I may say so before we begin the discussion proper, I would like to thank you for your punctuality. I appreciate the courtesy.”

“Both my Mother and my CO drilled into me that anyone with a functioning brain should never waste other people’s time, Your Highness.” Davies explained.

Luz nodded, “They both sound like they have a good head on their shoulders.”

“They did indeed, Your Highness.” Davies affirmed.

Luz noticed that Davies was still standing and gestured to the two chairs situated furthest from her, those belonging to the oracle and illusionist coven heads, and said, “Please, sit.”

Davies looked a bit hesitant but quickly complied, sitting down in Coven Head Ethelia’s chair.

“I’ve looked into your history, and I have to say that I am very impressed, Inspector Davies.” Luz began, while grabbing his personnel file from the stack and making a point of perusing it. “Two tours in the army, served during the Siege of the Right Palm, awarded a medal of valor for saving your platoon from an ambush, and after your latest tour ended you joined the Empress’ Coven rising to the rank of Inspector in the Imperial Police of the Abdomen Province remarkably quickly. If I hadn’t had the information verified, I’d suspect that it was too good to be true.” Keeping her gaze locked on Davies the entire time, Luz declared, “You might be the perfect candidate to lead the team I’m assembling.”

Davies, with a hint of confusion, asked, “And what team might that be, Your Highness?”

Luz, steeling her voice and gaze, declared, “The divulsion of that information is contingent upon your giving me some assurance, Inspector Davies.”

“A… assurance, Your Majesty?”

“An everlasting oath, to be specific,” Luz answered.

“Everything that I’m about to say is top secret,” Luz continued, patting the stack of folders next to her, “and thus I must require that you make an everlasting oath to NEVER discuss this information, in any way, with anyone but myself and the team that I am constructing, and that you have never, and will never, betray me, or allow me or my family, either through action or negligence, to come to harm. If you can’t do that,” she concluded, her gaze one of uncompromising conviction, “then we have nothing more to discuss.”

Davies, unsure of what exactly he was getting himself into, but motivated by conviction and loyalty, stood up, declaring “As you wish, Your Highness, you’ve led us through this much, so I’d say I owe you this."

Luz beckoned Davies over.

Standing next to the Empress, Davies began forming a spell circle, “I swear never to discuss, in any form, what is said in this chamber with anyone but yourself, and this team you mentioned, and I swear that I have never, and will never, betray you, your wife, or your brother-in-law, and will-”

Luz’s hand shot up, and, successfully keeping most of the panic out of her voice, emphasized, “Family, I said family. Please use my exact words, Inspector Davies.”

Davies, briefly startled by the Empress’ interruption, quickly regained his composure. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Continuing the spell circle, Davies amended his oath “And I swear that I have never, and will never, betray you or your family, and will never, through action or negligence, allow you or your family to come to harm.”

Davies placed his hand through the finished, golden spell circle, and Luz, suppressing the urge to take a deep breath, shook his hand.

“Thank you, Inspector Davies.” Luz said, releasing his hand, the golden circle now having dissipated into the air.

Luz gestured to the oracle coven chair, and Davies dutifully sat down once again.

“Now that we have that formality out of the way, I’m going to ask you a question. What have you heard about the attack on my summer home two weeks ago that nearly resulted in my and my wife’s death?”

Davies’ eyes bulged out of their sockets “This is the first I’m hearing about you even having a summer home, or that you were attacked. Are you two alright?”

Luz nodded, “Good, you shouldn’t have heard about it, and to ease your concern, my wife and I escaped without injuries. Though we are now out of a summer home, and the proud new owners of a pile of rubble. That’s beside the point though. What I want to know is how my quaint little cottage of a summer home, the location of which was only divulged to the council and a very select few top coven officials within each coven, was somehow located and destroyed, on the first day that we stayed in said home for nearly two years, especially in light of the fact that there is nothing but undeveloped forest for miles around.”

Davies, without missing a beat, inquired “I’m guessing based on your question that you believe someone leaked your location, likely to the rebellion, and that this team you mentioned will be investigating who may have done so?”

“Technically, your mission will be to uncover dissidents and traitors in general, but, yes, determining who, if anyone, leaked my location will be your primary objective,” Luz clarified.

Luz continued, “I want you to lead this task force, Inspector Davies. I’ve combed through hundreds of personnel files, and you seem to me to be the best suited to this endeavor. Do you accept?”

Davies nodded immediately.

Luz’s eyes hardened, “Let me be perfectly clear. You and your team will have maximum latitude on pursuing this investigation. Short of torture, which is strictly prohibited, use any and all means to uncover whoever was responsible for nearly sending the Isles back into anarchy. If you need access to classified information, you’ll get it, if you need to interrogate coven members, you can, hell, if you need to question a coven head, then you do so. I don’t care how you find the traitor or traitors, just do it, so I can make sure that they never see the light of day again. Can I count on you, Special Investigator Davies?”

Davies shot up and saluted, vowing, “Your Highness, I will not rest until this matter is resolved. You have my word.”

Luz grinned, “Excellent, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Luz gestured to the stack of personnel files next to her and commanded “I want you to look over these personnel files, meet with the individuals listed, and have a command structure for the task force devised within the next two weeks.”

“Understood, Your Highness!”

“I want daily updates on your investigation, and again, if you uncover other possible dissidents and traitors during your investigation, you are free to pursue them, but your primary focus should be on apprehending whoever leaked my location, whether they’re a high-ranking coven member, coven head, someone who just pieced together my location from gossip, or even a palisman, just find them.”

Davies nodded with a level of righteous conviction that made her smile.

"Now, is there anything else you'll require to perform your duties?" Luz asked.

 

After answering every one of the comprehensive suite of questions that Davies had, Luz dismissed him, confident in her selection. The dull thud of the large mahogany-colored doors echoed off of the stone walls of the council room, and Luz went to scratch Maeve’s chin. “Well, I think that went well,” Luz remarked.

Maeve uttered a cautious, characteristically asthmatic-sounding, chirp in response, mentioning her own worries, which earned a chuckle from Luz.

“That possibility is why I asked for daily updates,” Luz reassured Maeve. “Davies seems qualified, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to put blind trust in him. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

Maeve chirped in agreement.

“Now,” Luz added, “let’s get back to the office, and look over that report on the morale crisis on the frontlines.”

Luz’s mention of the report soured her mood, as she muttered “It should not have taken this long to generate that report.”

I swear, ever since the Right Shoulder the troops have been underperforming. Luz thought, clenching her teeth slightly in minor frustration. I’ll have to have a talk with the generals about this. The troops need to be whipped back into shape.

After mentally underlining ‘reinvigorate armed forces’, Luz started to stand up, only for Maeve to chirp questioningly.

“What? Why do you want to go flying all of a sudden?”

Maeve chirped yet again in response, a slight trill embellishing her call.

Luz sighed, “I’m sorry, buddy, but I’m far too busy to go flying right now.”

Maeve chirped louder; frustration imbued into her cry.

“Yes, I know it’s been a long time since we’ve just flown around, and, no, I’m not always busy.” Luz rebutted, to which Maeve rolled her eyes in response.

Luz huffed.

After a few seconds' pause, Maeve softly chirped out a request, which raised Luz’s spirits.

“No, we can’t fly back to the office.” Luz suppressed a laugh. “I haven’t flown indoors since I was a kid.”

Maeve immediately chirped, pointing out Luz’s lie.

“Hey, my wedding night was an exception!” Luz retorted, “What was I supposed to do, not whisk Amity away to our bedroom as fast as physically possible? I don’t think so.”

Maeve rolled her eyes again, and Luz returned the favor, but couldn’t keep a slight smile from crossing her face.

“Anyway,” Luz started, “I’m still going to walk back to my office like a normal person.”

Maeve let out a sad, quiet trill.

Luz, feeling a bit guilty, gave Maeve a small, apologetic smile. “If you want to be active, you could use the treadmill in my office.”

Luz received a huffy chirp in response.

“Yes, I know running is not the same as flying,” Luz sighed, “but I can’t spare any time to go on a joyride right now.”

Maeve sighed. She could spot a lost cause when she saw one.

Chapter 9

Summary:

The Right Arm faces a crisis.

It was the dead of night and a small airship emblazoned with an image of the Titan’s skull as it was before the Collector, the royal crest of House Noceda, flew over Bonesborough, capital of the Right Arm.

“We’re approaching the reservoir. Prime the payload.” The pilot said over his shoulder to the woman disguised as an Imperial soldier behind him.

The woman nodded and summoned an abomination to rip the top off a crate labeled “MREs” which then fished out a metal canister out of the small packages surrounding it, before walking to the edge of the airship.

Casting another spell circle caused the sound of gears to turn and a faint fizzing and bubbling sound to emanate from inside the canister, as the hyper-concentrated potion ingredients and abomination goo, previously kept in separate internal reservoirs, slowly released their contents into a mixing chamber.

“NOW!” the pilot shouted.

The abomination promptly dropped the canister.

“AHAHAHA!” The witch began to laugh. “They’ll have to divert so many healers that we might be able to shatter the Impy Army with this mission alone!”

“Wouldn’t that be lovely?! ‘Course, that’s assuming the others hit their targets too.” The pilot chuckled. “All right, now let’s head home. Let the Impies have fun with their gift in the morning.”

 

An armored transport touched down next to a massive drab earthen building that had been hastily built using construction magic earlier that day right outside Bonesborough. The doors opened swiftly and a contingent of royal guards, wearing their distinctive white cloaks and grey beaked masks, stepped out to secure the area. Staffs out, the royal guards secured a perimeter.

Satisfied that there was no immediate threat, Captain Wilston returned to the armored transport. “Your Majesties, Coven Head Park, the area is secure.”

“Thank you, Captain Wilston.” said Luz, stepping out of the faint vermillion transport, followed by Amity and Hunter.

Flanked by guards, Luz, Amity, and Hunter made their way to the front doors of the large structure. As they were about to enter, two witches burst out pushing a cart overflowing with linen-wrapped bodies, and they raced towards an airship. Screams and wails poured out behind them, only to be cut off by the slam of the doors in their wake. After hurriedly offloading their cargo the two dashed back inside to gather more.

Luz’s eyes hardened, and she motioned to the guards to open the doors.

Stepping inside, their breaths were nearly taken away. Thousands of beds were laid out in a giant array, and the sounds of anguish filled the air. Weeping mothers kneeled next to convulsing children, elderly patients drew their final breaths, and everywhere there were countless dozens of patients in sight for every healer. The sound was deafening, and the bone-chilling noise echoed off the thick, stone walls, producing a symphony of suffering.

The smell wasn’t any more pleasant than the sights and sounds. A pungent, irritating aroma of antiseptic potions and sweat permeated every corner of the massive structure.

Luz unwisely took in a deep breath, attempting to steady her nerves, which only served to remind her of why her nerves needed steadying in the first place.

At that moment a father burst into the building with his infant child in his arms, and desperately cried “HEALER! I NEED A HEALER!”

Looking out at the misery on display Luz realized with horror Oh god, it’s almost all kids.

Hunter, his face somehow even more pale than usual, grabbed the nearest healer by their collar and demanded “Where is Merryweather?”

The healer jabbed an exhausted finger toward the opposite side of the hospital. “Northwest Wing. She’s currently operating on a patient in operating theater 28.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hunter released the healer.

With that, Luz, Amity, Hunter, and the guards moved to the back of the hospital.

Outside the doors to the operating rooms, dozens of parents were comforting each other, desperately trying to convince each other and themselves that their children were going to live.

 

In operating room 28, a young boy began convulsing “Sean, get the anti-seizure potion.” Viney ordered.

“Of course, Ms. Merryweather.” The healer grabbed a syringe filled with a golden fluid, and handed it to Viney.

“Good, now please restrain the patient.” Viney commanded.

The healer nodded, summoning abomination goo which snaked its way around the seizing child, pinning them in place, their small body unable to fight against the flowing coils.

Tapping the syringe, Viney injected the potion into a vein in the patient’s right arm. Within thirty seconds the young boy stopped seizing.

“Anesthetic potion.” Viney demanded, holding out her hand. The healer dutifully retrieved the anesthetic for Viney.

Upon seeing the dull color of the potion Viney huffed. “We had better be out of anesthesia if you’re handing me degraded potions like this.”

“We are, Ms. Merryweather.” The healer responded.

“Wait, what?” Viney asked, shocked, turning around to look at her assistant, who gestured to the cart behind him which held a bin overflowing with spent syringes, and nothing else. “Please tell me that there are more in storage,” she pleaded.

“There were… a few hundred patients ago.” The healer grimaced.

Viney sighed, before casting a small spell circle to increase the potency of the potion, and the dull coloration of the potion turned slightly brighter “This will have to do then,” she declared, administering the potion. “All right, now get him into position for surgery.”

The healer nodded and cast a spell circle. The abomination goo shifted, turning the young boy onto his right side, and pulling his left arm over his head, while leaving his left side exposed.

Grabbing a scalpel, Viney cut a long line into the fourth intercostal space, from the side to the back, and opened a pathway to the large bile sac that took the place of where a left lung would be.

“Syringe.” Viney requested while holding out her hand, which her assistant dutifully placed in her hand.

Viney encountered surprisingly little resistance when inserting the needle into the opening. “Oh no.” She muttered.

Sliding the needle in farther than should have been necessary, the tip of the needle finally encountered the bile sac and pierced through it.

Drawing the syringe only brought forth a few drops of concentrated magic.

Viney sighed, and closed her eyes forcefully, feeling the pressure shove her eyes slightly backwards. Opening her eyes, she moved the patient’s left arm out of the way and placed her index and middle finger on his neck.

After a few seconds she sighed. “Get the linens.”

 

Viney emerged from the operating wing, haggard and disheveled. She was met immediately by a young couple who rose shakily from their seats at her approach. Their bloodshot eyes asked a terrified, silent question. At the somber, slow shake of her head, they collapsed into each other’s arms and were insensate to her well-worn words of condolence and apology.

She turned at last from the couple to find Luz, Amity, and their escort. Luz asked “What the hell is going on here?”

With tired eyes Viney looked at them and said, “Come on, let’s go somewhere quieter to discuss this.

The group then followed Viney to the administrative wing of the emergency hospital, and somehow managed to locate a room where the screams were reduced by the thick stone walls to a faint, tolerable background noise.

“Do you want the long version or the short version?” Viney asked, after the door closed.

“I want to know exactly what’s going on.” Luz demanded.

Viney sighed, “Long version it is then. The first case was a young witch. According to her parents, she began experiencing a severe fever around 8 in the morning and brought the patient to Knuckleberg General Hospital. Healers found the subject to be experiencing cardiac arrythmia, oscillating between bouts of bradycardia and tachycardia, alongside erratic bile sac palpitations causing irregular blood flow and rates of magical discharge. 20 minutes prior to death subject began convulsing, which continued intermittently until the subject’s bile sac failed. The stored magic subsequently discharged into the heart at a lethal rate, leading to cardiac arrest. An autopsy revealed trace amounts of abomination goo in the patient’s gastrointestinal tract alongside a cocktail of other foreign compounds in the bloodstream. Of course, by the time the autopsy was done, thousands more patients with similar symptoms had flooded into hospitals up and down the Right Arm."

In a solemn voice, Hunter asked “How old was she?”

“Not even two years old.” Viney replied.

“How many households have been affected?” Luz asked.

“At least 75,000, almost exclusively people living the big cities of the Right Arm. The death toll is still climbing rapidly since we’ve only just figured out that the reservoirs outside the big cities were what was poisoned, so it will probably be several hours if not more than a day before new cases stop flooding in.”

“I'm guessing that the abomination goo was used to temporarily bind to the potions, thus keeping them from diluting to the point of harmlessness in the reservoirs.” Amity suggested.

“That's what I suspected too.” Viney agreed.

“How many people have already had their bile sacs removed?” Hunter asked.

“Let’s just say that in ten years’ time potions track students will account for the vast majority of Hexside attendance.”

“Give me an actual number.” Luz said.

“I don’t know the overall total for the right arm, but at this hospital alone we’ve removed the bile sacs from over a thousand kids, and hundreds of elderlies. All in all, I’d say we’ve performed at least 1700 surgeries at this location alone. The only reason the number isn’t higher is because we don’t have enough healers to perform the operations fast enough.”

“What happens to those that can’t get treatment fast enough?” Amity asked, in a tone that made it clear she already knew what the answer was.

“What do you think happens?” Viney darkly replied, before turning to Luz. “Like I said, we need more healers. Given the extremely high mortality rate of the poison, we’ve had to begin preventatively removing the bile sacs of everyone most at risk: children, elderly, immunosuppressed, etc, instead of waiting to see if they might pull through on their own. However, the healing coven just doesn’t have enough supplies or enough healers trained to perform sacectomies. I need you to order every non-coven healer to help with the relief effort, and redirect as much anesthesia, anti-seizure potions, disinfectant, and syringes as is physically possible to the right arm, yesterday.”

The weight of Viney’s words fell upon them, and as the distraction of the conversation died away, the faint sounds of agonized shrieking could be heard once again.

 

In the reservoir control room, Mattholomule was losing his mind. While he was aware that his own capabilities were far behind those of the other coven heads, he still prided himself over having largely grown past the incompetence that defined him during his youth. Now though, he was face to face with someone who had evidently not gone down the same path of self-improvement, to the detriment of hundreds of lives. “WHY ISN’T THERE A MASTER SHUTOFF FOR ALL OF THE PIPES?!” he screamed at the panicked head of the reservoir control station. “Titan, who designed this system?!”

“Well, sir,” the reservoir controller stammered, “many people in the surrounding woods ask to build their own pipe access to the reservoir. Since there’s always more than enough water to supply Bonesborough proper, they’re generally allowed to do so.”

Mattholomule’s jaw dropped for a few seconds, as he struggled to process the absolute void of foresight and logical thought that he had just heard. “Shut off any pipes you can and give me a map of all of the known outflow points,” he commanded, channeling the tone he used when he relayed Luz’s orders while on the battlefield all of those years ago.

“O- of course, sir. D- Do you need anything else?” replied the frightened control head.

“Call everyone who has built a pipeline to the reservoir and warn them to not use water from the pipes.”

“Wasn’t a general alert already sent out, sir?”

“Yes, but I’m not risking the chance that any of them weren’t within earshot of a crystal ball. NOW MAKE YOURSELF HELPFUL AND GET ME THAT MAP.”

“Of course, coven head.” The now nervous reservoir controller nodded, ducking out of the room to grab the map.

A few minutes later with the map in hand, Mattholumule raced out of the reservoir control room, sprinting right up to the edge of the reservoir. Skidding to a stop, he gazed out at the expanse of murky water laid out before him.

This is going to take a bit of a power boost, he thought, opening up his satchel. Looking at the pack of power glyphs in his bag he frowned. They’re no galdorstone, but they’ll have to do. Mattholumule pulled out the pack, and opened it, pulling out two construction power glyphs. Slapping one glyph on each wrist he felt his muscles tense and energy course through his body.

Turning around to face the ground behind him Mattholomule cracked his knuckles, before spinning his arms in a massive circle, luminous brown arcs following the paths of his fingers. After connecting the two arcs, a massive stone pillar shot up from the earth before diving down to face him.

Mattholomule moved to cast another spell, before pausing. Hm, I’d rather not risk springing a leak, better be safe. Letting his hand drop, he fished around in his satchel, and pulled out a second pack of glyphs, of the non-construction variety, and began flipping through it. “Where is it, where is it?” he muttered. “Ah! There it is!” He cried out, having found the particular glyph in question. Holding the glyph in his right hand he clapped, and he was instantly lifted up in a golden, airtight bubble.

Safely ensconced in the bubble, he cast another construction spell, and four stone arches shot out from the front face of the curved cylinder, pinning the orb to the earthen structure. With a smirk on his face he commanded the construct to dive into the reservoir.

In the depths of the gargantuan reservoir, he cast a light spell. With the energy of the power glyphs still coursing him only a single light spell was necessary to illuminate the waters around him he directed the wormlike stone construct forwards, and promptly found the first outflow pipe.

He cast a spell circle. Immediately a smaller earthen protrusion extruded out of the main body of the construct and shot towards the pipe, sliding in with barely enough clearance. Mattholomule smirked and cast another, smaller spell circle, and the inserted stone plug detached from the main body and dilated ever so slightly, jamming the outflow pipe shut.

Heh, I’ve still got it. Now I just need to do the rest of them.

After a brief indulgence in pride, he directed his improvised submersible to shoot up hundreds of feet out of the water, he checked the map against his aerial view of the reservoir, before diving back down towards the next outflow pipe, and promptly jamming it shut using the same method he had used on the one prior.

Diving up and down, he hurriedly closed all of the outflow pipes.

10 minutes later, hundreds of feet above the ground, he slumped backwards against the back of the golden bubble.

“Heh… Hehe…” Mattholomule began laughing, “AHAHAHAHA!!! YES! YES!” he shouted, joy infused into every aspect of his voice. “Yes!” he then began panting “Yes… Yes… They’re safe now.”

Mattholomule started to fold up the map, before freezing, and thinking back to the control room. That guy didn’t seem like the kind to keep his paperwork up to date. Mattholomule grimaced, before summoning his scroll and messaging the witches closing the other affected reservoirs. Check the entire reservoir for unmarked outflow pipes.

He then shot off another quick message to Viney, informing her that the Bonesborough reservoir was sealed, but that he was going to check to make sure that there weren’t any unknown outflow pipes.

He was about to dive back down into the reservoir before he paused and sent one last message off. Gus, when I get back to the castle, we are cracking out the apple blood and getting plastered.

 

Back in the administrative wing of the emergency hospital Luz, Amity, and Hunter internalized Viney’s words.

Hunter spoke up, sadness in his eyes, “Luz, I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Try me.” Luz replied, her voice icy.

“We could pull healers from the Left Arm front. There are many healers trained in performing sacectomies there.” Hunter paused “We both know how dangerous the front is.”

Luz inhaled deeply and grit her teeth while listening to the agonized cries that, despite their faintness, rammed their way into her ears. “You’re right. I don’t like it.” Luz then let out a deep sigh. “But I can’t let people die needlessly. Hunter, I want you to start organizing a relief effort to bring in water-rich food and potted water from the reserves in storage while the reservoir is out of action.” Luz turned back towards Viney “Has Governor Harley sent out a general notice to avoid drinking water from the pipes?”

Viney nodded.

“Good, now, I want a list of everything you need, and where it’s needed. Give it to Hunter. He’ll get everything where it’s needed.” Luz turned to one of her guards “Use the crow phone in the transport, call General Cook and General Keller and tell them to send as many healers trained in sacectomies as they can afford to spare to the Right Arm immediately.” Luz then turned back to another one of her guards “Go tell the castle to send out an empire-wide alert to avoid drinking water from the pipes until we’ve been able to test it, just in case the rebels decide to pull the same stunt elsewhere. Also, send out another alert informing everyone that I’m hereby ordering every civilian trained in performing sacectomies to make their way to the right arm immediately and help. Also, tell the Empress’ Coven to redirect all flying boat ferries and civilian airships to transport the majority that don’t have a palisman that need to get to Right Arm.” Luz turned to her wife “Amity, I want you to call the Right Arm department of Blight Industries and have them pull old abomatrons out of storage and put them to work building new emergency hospitals and digging mass graves.”

Everyone nodded, and before everyone went off to perform their assigned tasks, Viney added “Luz, do you remember how I suggested making peace with the rebels?”

Luz nodded.

“Fuck that,” Viney spat out, “we’re making those bastards pay.”

 

It was an astonishingly brief relief effort, so virulent was the poison. In a mere two days, every victim had either been treated, or was dead. During that time the rebel army made an ill-fated attempt to break through the frontlines but were ultimately repulsed. Now, it was the evening, and in Castletown, the ad hoc development surrounding the rim of the castle’s moat which served mainly to house those citizens that worked in the federal bureaucracy, most people were walking home and turning in for the night. One such individual walking along one of the quieter side streets discreetly marked a small line in yellow chalk on the side of a building and kept walking.

Chapter 10

Summary:

The Right Arm continues to pose a challenge.

“And you’re sure that you’re going to be fine with the kids until the babysitter gets here?” Willow asked, standing outside the doorway to their house.

“Willow, I think I’m perfectly capable of looking after our sons by myself for 15 minutes.” Hunter reassured her.

CLANG!

“WHOOPS!” came the energetic call from inside the house “DON’T WORRY DADDY! I THINK IT DIDN’T BREAK!”

Hunter winced.

Willow snickered “You’re still absolutely sure?”

“Ehhh…90%.”

“Call me if the house burns down.” Willow teased, and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss Hunter on the cheek.

“Sure, if Daniel doesn’t break the crow first.”

“If you need to, have Flapjack play with him. Daniel loves doing that. You could also-”

Hunter smiled, “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

“All right, I’ll see you tonight then.” Willow laughed.

“Love you, honey.”

“I love you too.” Willow mounted her staff “All right, Clover, let’s head out.” Willow said, before kicking off.

Soaring low above the roofs of northern Castletown, Willow weaved between the spires of the various chimneys that ventilated the coven headquarters deep beneath the surface.

Ah, I’ll never get tired of flying.

After shooting past the outer rim of the castle’s moat, Willow made an abrupt U-turn and went into a steep dive, rocketing towards the large alcove carved into the northern face of the moat.

Diving past other witches and demons on their own palismen and several flying boat ferries, Willow leaned her legs out, her feet quickly making contact with the stonework. Skidding forward a few feet, Willow came to a quick stop.

After Willow hopped off, Clover dispelled her staff and reverted to her animate form. *Buzz Buzz*

“You’re right. I did go a bit slow today, but wasn’t it nice to take it a bit easy for a change?” Willow teased.

Clover looked at Willow like the witch had just gone insane.

“Hah! All right, we’ll try to beat our record heading home. How does that sound?” Willow smiled.

*Buzz Buzz* Clover nodded excitedly.

Willow headed to the grand doorway at the head of the alcove. Its double doors wide open and the symbol of the plant coven carved into each half, Willow couldn’t help but let a smile cross her face. Heh, and to think that Father thought the abomination track would lead to better job prospects.

Walking through the grand doorway at the back of the alcove, Willow took in a deep breath, recognizing the scent of several different plant species.

Ah, the Rasping Rafflesions should be growing quite nicely if they smell that strong.

Walking through the maze of hallways and offices, all illuminated with hanging light spells, nourishing the vicious, viridescent foliage that adorned every blank wall and unoccupied spot of floor space in the complex.

Approaching her office, Willow noticed the Assistant Coven Head, Eliza Wreath, standing in front of her office, and smiled “Ah, Eliza, how are you?”

“I am doing well, but we really should get on with the day, Ma’am.” Eliza said, matter-of-factly.

Willow suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Classic Eliza.

Opening the door to her office, Willow and Eliza walked in.

“What’s on the agenda?” Willow asked.

“We need to figure out how to deal with General Parson. He’s demanding that more palistrom trees be harvested and turned into palismen.” Eliza promptly replied.

Willow sighed, “Didn’t we already tell him no?”

‘“We did, but it didn’t sound like he cared about that, Ma’am. When I told him that our policy remains unchanged regarding the protection afforded to palistrom trees he said, and I quote “You know damn well that the rebels have chopped down every palistrom tree they have. I’m up to my eyeballs in enemy palismen.” End quote.”’

“Tell General Parson that I don’t care. If we chop down any more trees the species will face extinction.”

“I told him that, Ma’am, and he threatened to go over our heads and ask the Empress if we don’t harvest more trees.” Eliza explained, still speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.

Willow angrily responded, “If that happens Luz will let the army chop down every tree left.”

Willow sighed, thinking of how to remedy the situation. “All right, go tell General Parson that if thinks he can ignore the chain of command then I’ll see to it that he’s stripped of rank. In case he’s not bluffing, I’ll talk to Amity and see if she can work on Luz, and make sure that she’s more outraged at the chain of command being ignored than the palisman shortage.”

“Understood, Ma’am.”

“What’s next on the agenda?”

“The attack on the reservoirs of the Right Arm has contaminated half of the orchards outside the major cities, and the others that weren’t being watered at the time of the attack are at risk of drought due to having their primary irrigation source cut off.”

Willow chewed on the decision for a bit, before realizing that an infrastructure problem this big would probably have to involve the construction coven.

Do I really want to get him involved though? Willow thought, before deciding that fixing the issue was more important than her personal feelings and reached over to grab the crow phone sitting on her desk and dialed the number of Mattholomule’s office crow.

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

“He better pick up.” Willow huffed.

*Caw Caw*

“Coven Head Tholomule, I can’t reach my crow right now. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you, maybe, unless your name is Boscha Hollowleaf, then you can fuck off.”

“Mattholomule, pick up the damn crow.” Willow growled.

“Sorry, can never be too sure who’s on the other end.” Mattholomule answered, picking up the crow. “How are you, Wills?”

“Don’t call me that.” Willow snipped.

“Jeez, okay. You’d think fighting beside someone would make them like you.”

Willow rolled her eyes.

“All right, so why’d you call me?” Mattholomule asked.

“I was wondering if a new irrigation system could be built for the orchards on the Right Arm. Those orchards are a critical source of food for the troops.”

“Why are you proposing an intercoven project over the phone and not at the next council meeting?” Mattholomule asked, confused.

“It’s just two covens, and this is more efficient.”

“HA!” Mattholomule let out a loud harsh bark of a laugh. “You know Luz is going to be mad that a major project was started without her knowledge or input.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Luz will be fine.”

“Whatever you say.” Mattholomule chuckled. “So, were you thinking of a pipe or aqueduct system?”

“Let’s go with pipes. It seems like the rebels dropped a bomb into the reservoirs. Even closed aqueducts would be too exposed for comfort. We’d be inviting a repeat of what just happened.”

“That makes sense. The pipes shouldn’t be that hard to build, just simple construction magic stonework. The digging will be a bit more time-consuming, but not ruinously so. With enough power glyphs even excavation magic becomes a snap. As for the water system to fill it, I could look into the possibility of one or more desalination plants being built on the shore and hooking that into the irrigation system, but it would likely take at least a few months to build. Would the orchards be able to survive that long without irrigation?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll find a way.”

“Fine by me. That wasn’t even the biggest problem, because, the thing is, those desalination plants will almost certainly need abomitech components, so I’ll have to contract Blight Industries or some other company to get them. My coven’s finances are already strained, so if I can’t get those components for cheap, I’m going to either need a funds transfer, or talk to Hunter to see if the finance department can issue some bonds.”

Willow thought on that for a bit before saying “I can get you a good price on those parts. I just need to call in a favor.”

“I’ll let you get to that then.” Mattholomule concluded, before immediately hanging up.

Willow briefly brought the crow back down from the side of her head to dial another number before immediately bringing the phone back up to her ear.

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

Willow groaned. “When I was a kid, people actually answered the phone.”

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

“You’ve reached Edric Blight, best damn beast-keeper around, potions aficionado, and illusionist wonder witch, leave your message after the caw.”

Willow groaned “Oh come on, not you too!”

“Oh, it’s you Willow.” Edric picked up. “Sorry about that. I was worried that Vera was calling again.”

“Who’s…” Willow began to ask “No, never mind, not important. Edric, I’m calling in that favor you owe me.”

“Huh?” replied Edric, genuinely confused. “What favor are you talking about?”

“17 years ago. Latissa. Saved you from the mob boss who ran the Upper Right Arm after you got drunk and behaved like an absolute maniac. Am I ringing any bells here?” Willow said sternly.

Edric paused for a second before saying “Ah, yeah. I forgot about that. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised though. I had a lot to drink that night.” Edric sighed. “All right, what do you need?”

“You’re still on the board of Blight Industries, right?” Willow asked.

“I think I am.” Edric said hesitantly. “I don’t actually do anything in the company though, haven’t in years. Honestly, I think Amity gave me the position out of concern, to get my mind off, well, you know who.”

Willow winced “Sorry, I didn’t mean to remind you of her.”

“Ah, you’re fine.” Edric dismissively reassured Willow. “Though,” Edric continued, his tone shifting to one of confusion, “I would like to know why you wanted to know whether I’m still on the board. What does that have to do with the favor I owe you?”

“I’m getting to that.” Willow answered. “I’m working with Mattholomule to get a desalination plant, or maybe multiple, built on the Right Arm to supply it with clean water, however, he said that he’ll have to contract a company for some of the parts since such a project will probably require abomitech mechanisms. However, his coven’s budget is already-”

Edric groaned.

“Hey, I haven’t even told you what the favor is yet.” Willow retorted.

“You might as well have. You want me to talk to Amity and see if I can get her to charge less for the mechanisms, don’t you?”

“That’s…exactly what I want you to do…”

“You could just contract a different company that charges less.” Edric argued.

“This is a major piece of infrastructure and, when it comes to abomitech, no other company comes even close to Blight Industries in terms of quality.”

Edric gave a single dry laugh, “What, did you pick up a side gig as part of my sister’s marketing department?”

“Edric.” Willow said, getting a little irritated.

“All right, all right, not the time for jokes, I get it. Seriously though, you know that Amity doesn’t like giving special treatment when it comes to pricing.” Edric reminded her.

“And you know that you’d have been dead for more than a decade if it wasn’t for me.” Willow reminded him.

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to convince you to cash in that favor for anything else, am I?” Edric moaned.

“That is correct.” Willow bluntly said.

“Fine,” Edric sighed, “I seriously doubt that Amity is going to budge, but I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all I’m asking. Well, call me back after you’ve talked to Amity, and I’ll see you at the council meeting later this week.”

“Talk to you later.” Edric concluded, before ending the call.

 

Edric slumped backwards in his chair, unsure of whether he wanted to call Amity right away.

At that precise moment, the cry of a very exasperated coven member out in the main office area pierced through the air “FOR THE LAST TIME, MA’AM, WE ARE NOT GRANTING YOU A LICENSE TO BREED MANTICORES!”

Edric pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, cast a spell circle to close and lock the door to his office, and picked up the crow phone, dialing Amity’s number.

*Caw Ca-* “This is Amity Blight-Noceda. Who am I speaking to?” his sister answered, in a professional businesslike tone.

“Hey, Mittens, how are you?”

“Oh, Ed, I didn’t expect it to be you. I’m doing well myself. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well too, though I need to ask you for a favor.”

Amity’s tone immediately shifted to one of extreme nervousness. “Are you actually doing all right? The last time you asked me for a favor Luz and I had to concoct a potion to purge the apple blood from your body.”

Edric sighed again “Don’t worry, I’m still sober.”

“Oh, thank Titan.” Edric heard Amity let out a deep breath. “So, how can I help?”

“Well, Willow and Mattholomule are planning to build desalination plants on the Right Arm to replenish their water supply. However, apparently the Construction Coven’s budget is already at its limit, and the plants would probably require abomitech mechanisms. If you could sell the mechanisms to him at a lower price, that would really help.”

“Absolutely, I can sell the mechanisms at cost if that’s all right.”

“Wait, really? I thought it was going to be a lot more difficult to convince you.”

“Firstly, I’m not going to let people go without clean drinking water. Additionally, many of those orchards supply the troops, so we need those to remain operational. Lastly, the recently expanded glyph printing contract will more than make up for the lost profits.” Amity explained.

“I’m not complaining,” Edric let out a light chuckle, “but what happened to avoiding nepotism?”

Amity loudly laughed. “I gave up that dream the fourth time Luz awarded a contract to me without even looking at the other options.”

“I’ll let Willow and Mattholomule know about the deal. Thanks for agreeing to this, Mittens.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Placing the crow back on the receiver, Edric had yet to take his hand off the crow before it began to caw.

“This is Edric Blight. Who am I speaking to?” Edric answered in a professional tone.

“Uh, sir,” came the voice of the receptionist from the lobby. “There’s an issue in the main lobby that requires your attention. Please, it’s urgent.”

“I’ll be right there.”

A quick walk down to the lobby made Edric regret ever taking the job of Beast-Keeping Coven Head.

ROAR!

“WHY IS THERE A MANTICORE IN HERE?!” screamed one coven member.

“I DON’T KNOW! JUST HELP ME!” another yelled, practically pleading.

Edric groaned once again.

 

As witches flew overhead and filled the streets of Castletown, eager to get back home after a long day of work, a black-haired witch ducked into an alleyway, and while continuing to walk at the same pace as before quickly pulled out a necklace with a red pendant. Donning the pendant, the person’s appearance instantly changed, becoming entirely unrecognizable.

Tucking the pendant beneath the collar of their tunic, the unnamed individual walked out of the alley.

Continuing to an unassuming building, they knocked on the door. “Who is it?” came from inside.

“It’s Clearsky.”

The door opened and the stranger walked inside.

After the door closed, the stranger was face to face with a witch. The witch’s face was blank, of both expression and, indeed, features of any kind, but with their posture they indicated barely disguised contempt.“You’re late.”

“Yeah, the patrols make it a bit difficult to get around. Now, why’d you signal for an in-person meeting? It had better be important if this couldn’t have been relayed in a drop-off.”

“Oh, I think asking what the fuck you guys were thinking poisoning the Right Arm warrants an in-person meeting.” The witch with no face asked in an angry hushed voice.

Clearsky scoffed “Seriously, is that it? That’s why you signaled me?”

“What do you mean ‘is that it?’ It’s reason enough.” The witch with no face retorted. “Now tell me why you thought poisoning thousands of non-combatants, including children, could ever be justified, and why you didn’t think to warn me before doing so.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.” Clearsky responded, getting slightly annoyed. “You know why we did it. It took out a major point of the Empire’s agricultural supply, and, as predicted, pulled healers away from the front, enabling us to attempt an offensive to reestablish a land bridge between the skull and left arm.”

“Well, I guess it’s just too bad for those grieving families that you didn’t even manage to break through the frontlines then?” the witch with no face hissed, barely containing their anger.

Clearsky shrugged. “That’s war. Not every plan works. You should know that more than anyone. Besides, it’s for the greater good.”

The witch with no face could barely contain their fury and growled “So that’s what gives you the right to repeat my sins is it?”

“Yeah, it does. Now, if you don't have anything important to ask, then I'm going to leave.” Clearsky responded, now quite annoyed, before heading to the front door. Before opening it, Clearsky looked back, and added “Oh, and if you have any more questions, stick to a drop-off.”

Chapter 11

Summary:

The council meets again.

A shrill voice pierced through the air “HEY LUZ, HOW ARE YO- IS THAT A BUG?!” followed immediately by the sound of earth being rapidly displaced by a burrowing idiot.

With the entrance to the Owl House now distracted, a twenty-year-old Luz opened the door, and loudly called out “I’m home!”

“We’re in the kitchen!” came the reply.

Closing the door behind her, Luz walked into the kitchen carrying a bag of groceries and found Eda and King making dinner, far more successfully than when Eda had attempted to do so in the past, now that she could no longer keep trying to make the vegetables sentient and ask them to jump into the pot.

As Luz opened the fridge and began putting away the groceries, King hopped off the stepstool that he had been standing on, climbed up Luz’s purple cloak, and sat himself on her head. While Luz was an inch shorter than Eda, and didn’t wear heels like his mother always did, Luz was still a beanpole in her own right, and King loved how tall he felt when perched on his sister’s head. Though, he did wish that Luz’s hair was voluminous enough to nap in. Despite his requests, Luz refused to take a potion that would make her hair grow more like Eda’s.

King let out a small bark and levitated the remaining groceries out of the bag and into the fridge before excitedly asking “What happened while you were out?”

Luz shrugged and answered “Not much. Some guys tried to shake me down for protection money, but overall, it was an uneventful trip.”

Eda raised an eyebrow and said, “I hope you didn’t pay.”

Luz snorted and turned around to face Eda. “Of course not, but I am surprised that it took me pulling out a few glyphs for one of those idiots to finally notice the ears and realize who I was.” Luz then snickered. “Needless to say, they high tailed it out of there.”

Eda smiled, and ruffled Luz’s hair. “That’s my girl. Don’t let anyone ever boss you around, kid.”

                                                     

In the present day, the ten coven heads were standing in the council room chatting, waiting for Luz, who was uncharacteristically late, to arrive.

Standing apart from the other coven heads Willow and Amity were conversing. “Have you managed to talk to Luz about General Parson yet?” Willow asked.

Amity shook her head. “I haven’t found a good time to do so.”

“Well, you better hurry up, because next week’s council meeting is with the joint chiefs. If he doesn’t try to talk to Luz sooner, then he’ll probably bring the issue up during the meeting.” Willow looked into Amity’s eyes, pleading with her oldest friend. “Unless you start working on Luz ASAP, then she’ll let the army chop down every palistrom tree left.”

Amity’s gaze cast downwards slightly, and she stroked her chin before looking back up and responding, “I know of a way to get Luz on our side.”

Willow softly replied, “I hope you’re right.”

At that moment Luz walked into the council room and closed the doors behind her.

Luz walked up to Amity and Willow and asked, “What were you talking about?”

“It was nothing.” Amity replied, before noticing that Luz had a bit of bile still stuck to one corner of her mouth and wiped it off with her thumb. “You missed a spot.” Amity whispered.

Luz chuckled and then motioned for everyone to sit down.

“I apologize for being tardy. There was something that I had to take care of. Now, we have a lot to discuss today, so let’s get right into it. We need to discuss how to supply the people with clean water in case the rebels have more chemical bombs made and are just waiting to use them.”

Mia Ethelia, head of the Oracle Coven, spoke up. “Thankfully we likely don’t have much to worry about in that regard in the immediate future. My agents haven’t seen anything major happening in the fortunes they’ve read in the past few days.”

Luz shook her head in disappointment. “Your agents also didn’t see the attack on the Right Arm coming either, so forgive me if I don’t have much faith in the ICI right now.”

“Fortunes can be very opaque!” Mia responded, offended. “If the rebellion was employing spirits to obscure future events in the days leading up to the attack it would have been nigh impossible to fore-“

Luz raised her hand, cutting Mia off. “It doesn’t matter why you didn’t foresee it, what matters is the risk of thousands dying in a similar attack.” Luz’s eyes narrowed. “You need to either start providing results or I will look into having the Imperial Corps of Intelligence transferred out of the Oracle Coven.”

Mia, baffled, angrily responded “The ICI couldn’t possibly function without skilled oracles!”

“Then you should hire some already.” Luz spat back.

Mia slammed her fist down on the table. “Don’t make it seem like it was just the ICI that didn’t know an attack was coming! What about the OMI?! Those camo-wearing excuses for intelligence agents didn’t see the attack coming either!”

“Whataboutism and interagency hostilities are unbecoming of a coven head.” Luz’s gaze became icy. “If you keep undermining governmental cohesion, I will have you replaced. Am I understood, Mia?”

Through clenched teeth, Mia answered, “Yes, Empress.”

“I was going to mention this later anyway but given that the subject seems to be of such interest to you, I might as well tell you now that I grilled the Head of the Office of Military Intelligence the day of the attack.”

Mia glared but said nothing further.

“Now, if we could get back on topic, I’d like to discuss possible back-up water sources for the Isles that would secure them from future possible bombing attacks, perhaps by building desalination plants in all of the provinces rather than just the right arm.”

“HA!” Mattholomule let out a harsh bark of a laugh. “Sure, we could do that, or would you like to strangle me right now rather than waiting for the head of finance to do it himself later?”

“How can the Construction Coven’s budget be that tight?” Luz asked, confused. “Didn’t we issue another round of bonds last year to smooth out your finances?”

Mattholomule ran his fingers through his hair and groaned, “Yeah, we did, but the cost of the redevelopment projects in the Upper Chest just keep spiraling upwards.”

“This sort of outcome is why you don’t trust contractors that make especially low bids.” Amity chastised.

Mattholomule laughed, “I wish you had told me that three and a half years ago.”

Luz sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, “It’s times like this that I wonder if I should move the Isles to a fiat currency.”

“That won’t work.” Amity and Hunter responded perfectly simultaneously.

Luz jumped a bit before composing herself. “Why wouldn’t that work?”

Amity explains, “We wouldn’t be able to convince the Isles to have faith in a fiat currency after having always used a commodity currency. Even on Earth, paper money first had to be backed up by a commodity, so that people would trust it, before eventually transitioning to a fiat currency.”

Hunter then added, “Also Mr. Chief Snail-Pincher would murder every single one of us if we tried to do that.”

“I guess even if we survive this war, we’ll just have to deal with replacing the worry of being overthrown by rebels with the noose our creditors will have over us.” Luz let out a single, dry, humorless laugh. “Anyway, let’s get back on track.” Luz sat back and pondered for a bit before asking “Could we pump groundwater instead of relying solely on reservoirs?”

Edric piped up “With the exception of the legs, which are either too elevated or are supplied with saline water in the case of the right and left legs, respectively, underground freshwater helps fill caverns that are home to numerous endangered species.”

“Also,” Mattholomule interjected, “the ground might sink if we pump groundwater out at a mass scale.”

“Do you mean to say that the Titan might sink into the Boiling Sea?” Luz asked, concerned.

Mattholomule waved his hand dismissively, “No, no, nothing like that, but a lot of houses might wind up needing repairs as the ground resettled. When the public figures out that we were the cause, we’d probably be forced to pay for the repairs.” Mattholomule paused, before adding in a tone less jocular-than-usual, “I don’t think we can afford to be seen as incompetent at this point. The people might turn on us.”

Luz sighed, “Fine, desalination plants it is. How much would such a scheme cost?”

Mattholomule stroked his chin for a bit, thinking deeply, before responding “A very rough estimate would be around half a billion snails.”

Immediately, the council room fell silent, with the only sound present being the faint crackling of the torches situated high up on the walls.

After thirty seconds, Boscha spoke up, “You had better be pulling our legs, goblin boy.”

“Nope” Mattholomule refuted, loudly popping the p for dramatic emphasis.

Luz, stunned, asked, “How could it possibly cost that much?”

“Well,” Mattholomule began, “it would likely be at least 80 million per plant, and I’m assuming that there would be one plant per province on average. The right leg wouldn’t get one due to snow melt from the Knee serving as a backup water source already. The abdomen province would get two since connecting the two with an undersea pipe would be far more difficult than just building a plant on each side. With the remaining four provinces getting one plant each, the total cost would come out to 480 million, and that’s a conservative estimate. Also, this is assuming we plug the plants into the existing network, and don’t want to build an entirely separate system of backup water pipelines.”

Half of the councilors’ jaws dropped and Mattholomule shrugged, “If we have the upper and lower chest use the same plant another 80 million could be knocked off the price.”

Hunter gulped and inquired, “Is there no cheaper solution?”

“Of course, there is.” Mattholomule said.

Skara perked up and asked, “Really? What is it?”

“Yeah, we could not build a backup and just hope the rebellion doesn’t attack any more reservoirs.”

“… Oh.” Skara softly answered.

“Is groundwater really not an option?” Luz asked.

Mattholomule gave a noncommittal shrug, “I was wondering that myself, so I talked to a geologist before the meeting, and let’s just say that he didn’t advise it.”

“Would it be a problem immediately?” Luz questioned.

“Probably not, but we don’t know. Groundwater has never been pumped out on a mass scale on the Isles before, so it’s unclear how long it would take before negative effects started.”

Luz pondered the matter for a bit, before commanding, “We’ll go with the groundwater system first, but draw up plans for desalination plants anyway. We can transition to that system after the war when some of the finances devoted to the military can be reallocated to civilian projects.”

Mattholomule nodded.

“All right, on to the next item on the agenda.” Luz said. “General Parson called me earlier today about the state of the frontlines.”

Willow and Amity tensed up.

Luz, not noticing the shift in the demeanor of her wife and oldest friend continued. “He argued that the frontlines necessitated converting all of the remaining palistrom trees to palismen.”

Willow and Amity held their breaths.

“Given that such an action is obviously absurd,” Luz began.

Willow and Amity released their breath.

“I’ve instructed him to leave ten percent standing.”

Willow shot up and screamed “WHAT?!”

Luz looked at Willow and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Willow, do you have an objection?”

“YOU COULD SAY THAT!” Willow bellowed out. “THERE WILL BE LESS THAN 200 PALISTROM TREES IN THE ENTIRETY OF THE ISLES IF YOU GO THROUGH WITH THIS!”

“And your point is?” Luz asked, confused.

“MY POINT?!!” Willow exclaimed, baffled. “MY POINT IS THAT EVEN IF THE SPECIES SURVIVES, WE’LL HAVE TO BAN ALL HARVESTING FOR THE NEXT THREE CENTURIES JUST TO GET THE POPULATION BACK TO HEALTHY LEVELS!”

Luz responded coolly. “If we lose the war palistrom trees will go extinct anyway. Recent history shows that only a strong central authority can protect such a vulnerable species. The number of palistrom trees fell by half during the days of anarchy. If the Isles fall back into anarchy there won’t be anyone with the time and resources to protect them. A moderate risk of extinction is preferable to certainty.”

Willow glared, “That’s only true if chopping them down is necessary to win the war.”

“I say we chop them all down.” Viney growled.

Willow, shocked by Viney’s interjection, spluttered “V- Viney? What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into me?” Viney responded. “I’ll tell you what’s gotten into me! THE SIGHT OF THOUSANDS DYING BECAUSE THOSE MONSTERS DECIDED TO POISON CIVILIANS! THAT’S WHAT’S GOTTEN INTO ME! I PERSONALLY SAW INFANTS DIE IN FRONT OF ME BY THE HUNDREDS!” Viney then took a deep breath, and continued more quietly, but with no less emotion. “Between 26,000 and 30,000 people died from the poison, and at least 9,000 sacectomies were performed. It’s now our moral obligation to do whatever we can do to win this war as fast as possible. Anything else would be spitting in the faces of the families that now have empty seats at the dinner table.”

Amity interjected before Willow could find words, “Luz, don’t you remember how excited you were to carve Maeve? It would be shameful if we deprived future generations of the opportunity to carve out their own palisman.” Amity had been hoping to catch Luz in a good mood before trying to convince Luz to leave the palistrom trees standing, but that was no longer an option.

Luz nodded, “I agree, which is why I ordered 10% of each palistrom grove remain unharvested.”

“That’s not enough.” Willow growled.

“I disagree. Now, let’s get this meeting back on track.” Luz said, standing up.

Willow, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, barked “NO! You gave me jurisdiction over endangered plants. I’m exercising my authority to-”

“Authority you exercise on my behalf." Luz reminded Willow in a steely tone. "Sit down.”

Willows eyes bulged, and she fell into a stunned silence. Luz held her gaze until she sat down.

“And Willow,” Luz said, standing tall and straight, no longer looking at her friend, “don’t ever try to go behind my back again.”

The Empress looked back towards the rest of the council and resumed speaking. “According to Governor Harley the attack on the Right Arm, along with Gus’ excellent subsequent propaganda campaign,” Luz nodded at Gus, “seems to have ignited a patriotic fervor among the province’s population, causing enlistment to skyrocket. I propose…”

As Luz continued speaking, the Head of the Plant Coven remained seated, slack and unmoving, in her chair.

Chapter 12

Summary:

A brother is informed.

A crackling sound filled the kitchen air and a wooden door unfolded out of nothingness. The door whipped open and deposited an irritated Luz, who was muttering under her breath. “Always putting words in my mouth. Can’t believe she might be my in-law one day.”

Closing the door Luz sees Eda looking forlornly out into the living room.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Luz asked quietly.

“It’s King,” Eda began, and her voice trembled, “He got all mopey while you were visiting your folks.”

Luz looked out into the living room and saw King sitting listless on the couch, his head hung low.

“Can… can you go figure out what’s the matter?” Eda croaked out. She sounded…helpless, like Luz had rarely heard from the woman.

Luz tilted her head in confusion. “Don’t you want to be a part of the conversation too?”

Eda looked away from King and muttered “I’d just screw it up.”

Taking matters into her own hands Luz pulled Eda into a tight hug.

“Hey!” wheezed Eda, “who asked you to do the parallel arm thing?!”

“You did, by behaving like an idiot.” Luz teased, before tapping a plant glyph against Eda’s back just as Eda pulled away from Luz. As Eda stumbled backwards, she found herself with her arm pinned to her side, restrained by loops of verdant vines.

“If you’re going to be this silly, then I’m just going to have to force you to take part in this conversation.” Luz declared.

She then grabbed Eda’s flailing hand, which poked out from underneath the floral restraints, and walked into the living room, dragging a protesting Eda with her.

The sight of a bound Eda being shoved down onto the couch next to King shocked him out of his melancholic rumination. He looked on in confused bemusement as Eda attempted to get back up and run away only to be tied down to the couch when Luz whipped out a plant glyph.

As Luz sat down by his other side, King jabbed his thumb back at Eda and asked Luz “What’s this all about?”

“Mom was being dumb. Don’t worry about it.” Luz answered.

“Okay…” King said with confusion.

“So,” Luz began, giving King a quick side-hug, “what’s got you feeling down?”

King hung his head and said nothing.

Luz sighed and softly said “Please don’t shut us out buddy. We want to help.”

In response, King unfolded a piece of paper. Luz only had to read the first two words, TO LULU, to realize what had caused King’s downturn.

Luz showed the letter to Eda who grimaced.

Before either Luz or Eda could say anything, King softly asked, “Am I going to be like him?”

“What do you mean?” Eda asked, as she desperately tried to keep the fear welling up inside her from creeping into her voice.

“When… when you all go?” King whimpered. “Is that what’s going to happen? Can titans die of old age? Am I going to be in denial forever?” Tears started to form in the corners of King’s eyes. “… I don’t want to be alone.”

The vines binding Eda to the couch suddenly snapped in a flurry of unfurling feathers and a muted snarl of emotion. Freed, she scooped up King into a hug.

Luz reached over and softly ran her hand across King’s back. “Hey, we’re not going anywhere for a long time buddy.”

King gripped Eda’s dress and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “You don’t know that! What if someone gets you too?!”

“We can defend ourselves just fi-”

“SO COULD AUNT LILY!” King screamed, his claws digging in even more strongly, the effects of which were thankfully disguised by the coloration of Eda’s dress. “SO COULD GRANDMA AND GRANDPA!”

Luz, a slight crack in her voice, started “We know it’s not easy to lose people. I won’t sugarcoat it. It’s painful. Probably one of the worst feelings that a person can experience.”

King whimpered again, and Eda looked at Luz in confusion, who mouthed ‘Trust me’. Eda bit her lip, thinking for a bit, before she nodded and let Luz continue.

Luz leaned in and rested her forehead on King and softly continued. “The only thing that would be worse is never being close enough to that person that losing them hurts you that much.”

King sniffled, and, without removing his head from the crook of Eda’s neck, asked “What do you mean?”

“It’s…I’m not doing a good job of explaining…I…I still miss my dad, okay? But I’m still glad that I met him, I’m glad that I knew him. Whenever I get sad about my dad, or anyone else that I’ve lost, I try to remember all of the good times we had together. Those times don’t go away just because…just because the person does. They won’t go away when…we do.”

King, bleary-eyed, raised his head, causing Luz to lean back, and quietly asked, “What do you mean?”

Luz poked his head and explained “We’ll always be in here. If you’re ever feeling sad, just remember the good times, but until that day comes” Luz paused, giving him a smile “let’s focus on the present, and make sure you have as many good times to look back on as possible?”

King sniffled once again, wiped his tears away, and nodded, a smile crossing his face. “I’ll never forget you guys.”

Eda hugged King even tighter, and Luz joined in, concluding “I have no doubt about that.”

                                                     

Luz shook her head and wiped away the nascent tears forming in the corners of her eyes, before pocketing her scroll, swiping away the reminder to visit King’s grave as she did so.

She took a deep breath and ran her fingers across the edges of her cloak once to compose herself. Standing up, Luz turned to the corner of her office, to the standing desk and treadmill nestled there, the latter of which was set to the highest speed, Maeve bounding forward at a full sprint.

“Good news, Maeve, we’re going flying today.” Luz announced.

She received only a huffy chirp in response.

“Of course, we’re taking the armored transport.” Luz responded, in a tone that made it clear that she hadn’t even considered that they wouldn’t.

Maeve let out another, more irritated chirp.

“Well, forgive me for wanting some protection around us in case a bunch of people shoot at us.” Luz snipped.

She received an offended chirp.

“Yes, I know you’re agile,” Luz sighed, “but you have to admit that there have historically been some close calls.”

The wooden otter hopped up onto the control panel of the treadmill, turning it off, before swiftly turning to face Luz and letting out a harsh bark.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” She chastised, her frustration growing, before running her fingers through her hair. “I’m just saying, I’d prefer not to have any more scars.”

Maeve rolled her eyes, letting out an annoyed, dismissive trill.

Luz laughed. “Oh, yes, some of them were from flying. Remember the burn on the inside of my right calf? You couldn’t exactly pull out of the way of the fireball quickly enough, could you?”

The palisman gave a defensive chirp.

“That’s exactly my point!” Luz exclaimed. “If a lot of people start shooting at us, evading one shot might mean accidentally lining ourselves up with another! Hence, the armored transport!”

Maeve huffed.

Luz, exasperated, sighed. “You can fly outside of the transport if you want to be suicidal, but I will be taking the safe option.” She then moved to exit her office.

Maeve rolled her eyes but went to follow Luz.

 

Luz leaned in to look out the window of the armored transport, and saw Maeve flying, unridden, over the boiling Sea, threatening to cause Luz to delve deep within her thoughts. Before that could happen though, the crow beak affixed to the ceiling of the cabin activated.

“Your Majesties, we’re approaching the Right Arm, and are about fifteen minutes from the destination.”

Luz held down a button on the side of her arm rest. “Thank you for the update.”

As she released the com button Luz felt her stomach inaudibly grumble. To remedy this, Luz pulled out an old, beat-up canteen from one of the inside pockets on her cloak.

Amity, noticing the glint of the metal canteen out of the corner of her eye, whipped her head around to face Luz, her eyes bulging. Leaning in, Amity whispered “You know that it’s not okay for you to drink while pregnant.”

Luz rolled her eyes, “Don’t worry, it’s not alcoholic.” Luz unscrewed the cap and held the canteen under Amity’s nose.

“It smells sweet.” Amity said, relieved but confused.

“It should, because it’s a marrow and fruit smoothie.”

Amity smiled. “Does it taste good?”

Luz shrugged, before taking a swig of the concoction. “Hm, that was a lot better than I thought it would be.”

“May I have a taste?” Amity asked, her curiosity peaked.

At that moment Luz's abdomen let out a second, this time very audible, growl. Luz looked at Amity with a deadpan expression and said, “Junior wants all of it.”

Amity chuckled. “I guess the matter is settled then.”

Luz then began downing the remainder of the canteen’s contents.

 

The grass hardly fluttered as the vermilion-colored transport silently touched down next to a stone wall in a small cliffside glade. Luz counted the seconds as she waited for the guards in the rear cabins to disembark and sweep the area.

A minute later the crow beak affixed to the roof of the transport squawked out “Your Highnesses, the area is secure, and a perimeter has been established.”

Gracefully standing up, Luz laced her arm around Amity’s as a guard opened the door.

Luz stepped out of the transport, and, closing her eyes, slowly took a deep breath. As she felt the humid air slowly fill her lungs the sweltering heat and salty aroma brought back childhood memories. A smile crossed her face, and her eyes became misty.

Amity leaned her head on Luz’s shoulder and asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Luz turned and kissed Amity on the brown crown of her head, Amity’s roots having grown, before responding with a pained smile, “Just looking back on some good times, that’s all.”

Amity nodded, and they walked up to the entrance, a set of large, stone double doors emblazoned with a 2-meter-wide glyph combination. Luz tapped the light glyph in the center. Despite their bulk, the giant stone slabs practically flew open, yet didn’t crash into the inside face of the stone wall, instead coming to a halt just before, as abruptly as they swung open.

Stepping inside, Luz and Amity were not surprised when the doors violently closed behind them, causing a harsh gust of wind to whip against their backs and briefly drag their cloaks out behind them and off the ground.

Inside was a single circular pond a few meters wide and only a few meters away from the cliff, and a solitary gravestone.

Maeve leapt off Luz’s shoulder and made a mad dash towards the pond before screeching to a halt halfway and looking back at Luz. Gazing back at Luz, Maeve issued a tentative chirp.

Luz, wiping the nascent tears from her eyes, nodded at Maeve and somberly reassured her “I’ll be okay.”

Maeve looked back and forth between the pond and Luz before hopping back to her partner and scurried up her cloak onto Luz’s right shoulder before nuzzling her cheek against Luz’s.

Luz scratched Maeve under her chin while softly saying “Thanks buddy.”

Amity leaned up to kiss Luz on the cheek and softly said “If you’re not feeling up to this we can return to the castle.”

Luz shook her head. “I’m following through with this. King deserves to know.”

“Just let me know if it gets to be too much, Batata?” Amity asked.

Luz nodded, with a soft smile on her face. “Of course, I will. I love you Hermosa.”

“I love you too.”

Luz felt her wife’s comforting hand slide up and off her back as she knelt down in front of the gravestone.

King Clawthorne

9 B.R. - 6 A.R.

Son to Edalyn Clawthorne

Brother to Luz Noceda

Friend to All

“Hey,” Luz began, her voice fragile and eyes growing mistier, “it’s… it’s been a while. Hasn’t it?” Luz dropped her head slightly. “Sorry, I’ve been really bu-” Luz shook her head, looking back up at the gravestone. “No, no, that’s not an excuse.”

“I wish I could say that Mo-” Luz paused, clenching her cloak in her fists. “Eda and I aren’t still fighting, but, well,” Luz tightened her grip, “I wish I could say a lot of things.” Luz barely registered Maeve nuzzling her cheek again to reassure her. “I wish I could say that the Isles were safe by now. I wish I could say that the Collector never existed, that Belos never came to power, that we could have spent more time together!” A single tear started running down Luz’s cheek.

“It doesn’t matter though. Wishing won’t fix anything.” Luz let out a single, dry, humorless laugh, a sound more akin to an exhausted sigh than anything happy, “You know that more than anyone.” Amity hugged Luz’s arm and leaned her head on Luz’s left shoulder.

Luz gave Amity a fragile, if genuine, smile. “That’s not why I’m here though. That’s, that’s because I need to tell you something.” Luz inhaled deeply, before, in a slightly more confident voice than a few seconds prior, continuing. “…well, you’re going to be an uncle, buddy.”

Luz then leaned her head on top of Amity’s and added in an attempt at a playfully teasing tone “It only took three years of dealing with this one’s incessant arguing.” Amity said nothing, but let a smug smirk cross her face.

Luz paused before adding, “I know what you’re probably thinking, but I’m the one carrying them. When I finally gave in, I said that I would only agree to having a kid if I was the one carrying them.” Luz chuckled. “I didn’t even realize that I wanted that until I said it. The words just kind of came out.” Luz’s gaze shifted to the Boiling Sea stretching out behind the graveyard, to the view that she woke up to every day, all those years ago. “Amity was shocked, and I surprised myself too. I think she always imagined that she’d be the one to carry them, and up until that point I thought so too, but the moment I said those words though, I knew they were true. And, well,” Luz looked back at the gravestone and patted her abdomen, “here we are.”

“I did briefly regret making that condition though. Specifically, when I drank the conception potion.” Luz recalled drinking the concoction and shuddered. “That was the single most disgusting thing I have ever tasted. I don’t know how blood and herbs mixed could produce something that tastes like a smoothie made from sweat, burned wax, and rotten meat, but evidently, it’s possible.”

Amity suppressed a sigh at her wife’s odd pallet. She loved Luz, despite how picky the human could be with what she ate.

“A while after that, Amity suggested that we ‘enjoy a relaxing respite at our summer home.’” Luz said that last part in an impersonation of her wife’s posh voice.

Amity rolled her eyes. As she’d grown up, her voice and speech patterns had become increasingly “snooty” as Luz once teasingly described it. Why that had happened was still uncertain, but Amity suspected that she had watched a few too many old documentaries and news programs while studying the history of her wife’s home world. When the shift in her voice had first been pointed out to her, Amity had panicked, worrying that she was becoming a selfish, out-of-touch aristocrat like her mother before her. Luz had disabused her of that notion, however, and pointed out that the very fact that Amity was anxious over that possibility was evidence of her empathetic nature, which relieved her.

“Amity said that a nice, calming vacation would help the baby by destressing me for a bit and let the little tyke swim in a pinch less cortisol for at least a weekend.” Luz’s attempt at humor only soured her mood. “That might have worked, if our summer home hadn’t been attacked mere hours after we got there.”

“We made it out without a scratch, thankfully, but now we have to find out how the rebels learned where we were. Also,” Luz clenched her teeth. “I won’t let your niece or nephew be subjected to the same chaos that we were.” Luz became very quiet, and yet more tears escaped her eyes, “I wish that you were here with us, to watch with us as they grow up. Another wish to throw on the pile, I guess. Don’t worry though, I’ll always remember you. I’ll tell Junior how amazing their uncle was.” Luz gasped out those final words, and broke down, no longer able to restrain herself from bawling her eyes out.

 

An hour later of tears, indulging in nostalgia, and promises to return, Luz and Amity started to head back to the transport. As they opened the stone door, however, they heard the guards start yelling. When the door opened, they found several of the guards exiting the woods with a handcuffed woman suspended in a golden orb.

Walking up to the guards Luz and Amity recognized the captive. The brown skin, the green eyes, the fangs, the knee-high boots all came together to remind them of exactly who this person was. “Hello, again, Katya.” Luz remarked in a cold, authoritative tone to her former ally.

Katya just glared at Luz.

Luz turned to the nearest guard. “Report, please.”

The guard promptly saluted. “A patrol found the prisoner attempting to breach the perimeter. A first-generation glyphing gun, several magazines of ammunition, a modified training wand, a palisman, and some bizarre manuscripts were confiscated.”

Luz nodded and turned back to Katya, still speaking in a cold, dispassionate tone. “A palisman I can understand, but why would you need those other items, Katya? You weren’t planning on using them on me, were you? I would hate to send you back to the Conformatorium.”

Katya said nothing, instead clenching her teeth violently, and immediately passing out.

Luz looked at the dying woman with anger, her gaze jerking towards the nearest guard, and hissed “You forgot to check for a poison pill?”

One of the guards spoke up, confusion infused into her words and demeanor. “We checked, Your Majesty. I don’t know how she hid one.”

Luz took in a deep breath and ran her fingers over the trim of her cloak twice. “Dispel the bubble. Check inside her mouth.”

The guards nodded and immediately complied. Upon inspection the mystery was solved. The rearmost molar on the right side of the lower jaw was half shattered, and glass shards perforated the adjacent flesh.

“That seems extremely risky.” commented Amity.

“Indeed,” the Empress mused. She pondered for a moment, and then her gaze snapped to the ranking guard. “Take the cadaver, palisman, and all personal effects to cold storage at the castle, then report to Hunter. I want him training everyone who wears a uniform to beware tactics of this kind.” As the guards busied themselves with their grim task, she turned to Amity and hissed: “Figure out how these things work. Quietly. Only use people you can trust absolutely.”

Amity nodded. “I’ll learn how to defeat them.”

Luz shook her head. “I want you to learn how to make them.”

Chapter 13

Summary:

Consequences arise.

- 3 Days Before the Attack on the Cottage -

A witch with no face walked into a dimly lit room. A large demon closed the door behind them.

Another witch, sat down in a leather chair across the room, warmly greeted the newcomer. “Thank you for coming. With your help we can finally take down that bi-”

The demeanor and posture of the witch with no face became as cold as ice. With their hand clenched tightly around their staff they growled “Have a little fucking class.”

The other witch scoffed, and projected an air of confidence, while he dabbed away the bead of sweat that had just formed on his forehead. “What? Are you having second thoughts? I thought you wanted to take her down?”

The witch with no face tilted their head slightly back, falling into retrospection, and took in a deep breath, before responding in a calm, even tone. “Do you think this is easy for me? Would it be for you, betraying one of your oldest friends, betraying her because she needed to be betrayed? I’m on your side, Titan dammit, I know far better than you do how much this needs to happen. Don’t you ever doubt that about me. Just remember the position I’m in and have a little fucking class about Luz. Are we understood?”

The other witch scowled but remained silent.

                                                     

- Present Day -

In a compound in the Upper Left Arm, a man with a broken horn yelled at his fellow higher-ups, “THEY’RE BUILDING GROUNDWATER ACCESS! IF WE DON’T USE THE REST OF THE BOMBS NOW, THEY’LL BECOME USELESS!”

A demon wearing a potion and abomination goo-stained tunic growled, “They’re already useless, moron. The Empire’s enlistment numbers spiked by 40,000 after we dropped those bombs. More than 10% of the right arm just enlisted. In less than three months the Impies will be able to deploy half of a field army’s worth of new troops. Dropping any more will simply exacerbate the problem.”

“40,000 extremely motivated troops, I might add. We should never have dropped those bombs,” a calm, lanky woman bitterly remarked, her eyes narrowed. “I’m sure round-ears is overjoyed that we’ve all but fixed her morale problem for the time being.”

“THAT’S EXACTLY WHY WE NEED TO FINISH THEM OFF WHILE THEY’RE STILL WEAK! IF WE HAD USED ALL OF THEM AT THE SAME TIME, WE COULD HAVE CRIPPLED THEM!” the man with the broken horn screamed.

“I have told you that that would not be logistically feasible,” The woman calmly explained. “It was hard enough to put the right agents in place, falsify flight routes, and secure ships for the bombs we dropped. It’s half a miracle that none of the people we had to bribe didn’t squeal.”

“Maybe you should have tried a bit harder.” The man with the broken horn hissed.

The demon groaned and the lanky woman rolled her eyes.

“I told you all that those bombs were stupid and evil. You should have listened to me,” came a voice from the entrance followed by the clacking of talons.

The three arguing higher-ups turned to find Eda the harpy waltz into the room, with bags beneath her eyes large enough to store snails in.

The first woman greeted the elder witch, “Jeez, Eda, you look awful.”

Flopping down on one of the couches, Eda detached the abomitech prosthetic from the metal port on her stump and let out a long sigh. “One of the zealots got on my nerves. Just would not shut up about how ‘the Titan shall secure our victory.’”

“I’m surprised you didn’t drag them to the arena,” the demon chuckled.

Eda snorted. “Nah, I wanted to, but it’s not as if that would have actually helped. So, I took my squad, and we blew off some steam at the front.”

“How many Impies did you get?” The younger woman asked coolly.

Eda shrugged, “Not many, just a couple of platoons a-”

“That’s it? You better not start being lazy like this one,” the horned man scoffed, jabbing his thumb in the tunic-clad demon’s direction, receiving a glower from the demon in response.

“Maybe if you’d stop interrupting people, I would have been able to mention that we took out a few abomatrons as well.” Eda chastised, before continuing with a smirk. “They were the new Mk. 3s too.”

The horned man let out a harsh bark of a laugh. “HA! I can just imagine the look on Blight’s face!”

No one noticed the tiniest hint of a frown on Eda’s face before she replaced it with a shit-eating grin. “So, what else happened while I was out?”

The lanky younger woman let out a small sigh, and in an almost cordial tone responded, “I received a potentially problematic report from an agent stationed in Castletown informing me that a contact of theirs evidently did not take kindly to the recent operation in the Right Arm. Said agent requested an advance warning should we decide to use any more such weapons so that they have enough time to tie up that loose end.”

The tunic-clad demon asked, “Is this the same contact that gave us the information for the ambush a month ago?”

The lanky woman silently nodded.

“Do we still not know who this faceless witch is?” Eda asked, exasperated.

The lanky woman shook their head. “Whoever they are, they've done an impressive job at covering their tracks.”

 

In an unremarkable, modestly decorated stone chamber, one hundred and forty-nine white cloaks stood in a near perfect grid except for the open spot in the front left corner. Fifteen people wide and ten deep, every single one held their hands clasped behind their ramrod straight backs and wore stern and cold faces. Each looked directly ahead of them, even as they listened to Special Investigator Andrew Davies, wearing similar attire and expression, standing on the platform in front of them, shaking the hand of a muscular, scaled demon, a luminous, golden ring encircling their clasped hands, asking, “Do you swear never to discuss any cases assigned to this team beyond fulfilling your official duties in regard to said cases?”

“I swear.” The woman, her face calm, and hardened, spoke in a deep, slightly hoarse voice. The golden ring briefly pulsed more brightly when she spoke before settling back down.

“And do you swear that you have never and will never betray Her Highness or the Imperial Royal Family, and will never, through action or negligence, allow Her Highness or the Imperial Royal Family come to harm?”

“I swear.” The woman affirmed, her intonation unchanged. The golden ring pulsed brighter once again.

Davies gave a single, firm shake, the golden ring humming and pulsing even more brightly, and his tone likewise unchanged, stated, “Glad to have you aboard, Inspector Viscera Williams.”

“I follow Her Majesty’s command.” The woman recited, the golden ring dissipating when they let go of the other.

Returning to fill the open spot, Viscera Williams clasped her hands behind her back and locked her gaze forward.

Addressing the room, Special Investigator Andrew Davies, who had already been speaking loudly, raised his voice further. “Now that everyone has made their oaths, and been assigned their ranks, I would like to say a few words.” The Special Investigator paused for a moment, his gaze scanning the force assembled before him, before continuing, “Every single person in the Isles owes a debt to Her Highness. None of us would be here if Her Highness had not taken down the false prophet Belos and the vindictive Collector. Some people, however, seem to think that they have the right not to repay, which brings me to why the Empress has gathered us here today. 4 weeks ago, Their Highnesses were vacationing in the Empress’ summer home when it was attacked. The Empress informed me that the only people she informed of the location of said home and the dates of the vacation were the council and a select few high-ranking officials in each coven. Consequently, they are, at this moment, our main suspects. However, this does not mean that one of them was responsible for leaking it. Instead, it may have been someone else, even a palisman, or someone who pieced together the location from gossip. I personally remember getting trapped in the Sternhaven salient because people couldn’t keep their mouths shut.”

A large chunk of the group, though remaining at attention, immediately remembered their time in that meatgrinder, a nightmare that made the current front look like a beachside vacation. Some remembered the stench of burning abomination goo, some the searing pain of exsanguinating spores perforating their respiratory system, others the cloaked roar of Okapis. Most at some point thought of those they lost to the anarchists’ avarice.

Friends.

Family.

Comrades.

Two full field armies went in to capture that last Rebel stronghold in the Upper Chest. A quarter of one came out of the pile of rubble once known as Sternhaven.

“Our primary task is determining how the Empress’ location got leaked. If we uncover any other possible traitors along the way we are free to pursue them, but our main objective is finding out who, if anyone, leaked Her Highness’ location. I have been instructed by the Empress that, aside from torture, we are authorized to use any and all methods to locate who, if anyone, betrayed Her Highness by leaking her location. I will not let this force betray the trust Her Highness has placed in us, so if I hear any grumbling about the one stricture on our work, or I feel you are not giving your fullest effort, I will personally drag you to the Empress to receive her judgment. Am I understood?”

A chorus of one hundred and fifty voices rang out. “YES, SIR!”

“Excellent. Now let’s root out some traitors,” Davies stated, before bellowing, “Long Live the Empress!”

“LONG LIVE THE EMPRESS!” repeated the chorus.

 

In the late evening, in her office, Luz, walking on her treadmill at her standing desk, read Davies’ daily report. As she had requested, Davies had included a summary at the top in which he set formality aside and cut to the chase, even though Luz knew that she was going to pore over every word of the multi-page missive, along with every subsequent report.

Daily Report – Monday, 16 September 21 A.R.

Summary:

25 out of the 175 candidates declined to participate. The dismissed participants received no confidential information. Oaths have been secured from the remaining 150 members. The list of current suspects is the council, assistant coven heads from each coven, and the department heads from the Empress’ coven. Five interrogations have already been performed and seven are currently underway at the time of writing.

-Special Investigator Andrew N. Davies

 

Full report follows:

…

Reading the full report and the meticulous, almost obsessive detail included within, Luz couldn’t help but grin. “Enjoy the sun while you can, traitor.”

 

As he had every day since meeting with the Empress, Special Investigator Andrew Davies returned home in the dead of night, after having left for work before dawn.

Opening the door, Davies came face to face with his wife, who was furious beyond belief. “You do realize that the twins haven’t seen you in weeks, right?!”

“I was doing something important.” Andrew vaguely explained, neither capable of, nor willing, to break his oath.

Callie sneered. “You could have at least kept your promise to call!”

Andrew winced, “I’ll try to remember to call if I’m going to be working late. I was just too focused on the task at hand today.”

“YOU’VE NEVER REMEMBERED! WHAT IS THIS NEW JOB?!”

“I don’t…have a new job.”

“YES, YOU FUCKING DO!” Callie screamed, “I’VE ASKED AROUND THE POLICE DEPARTMENT! YOU GOT TRANSFERRED THE DAY YOU GOT CALLED UP TO MEET THE EMPRESS! WHAT IS IT?! WHAT DID SHE ASK YOU TO DO?!”

Andrew Davies said nothing.

“YOU HAD BETTER FUCKING ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW!!!”

The Special Investigator remained silent.

“LET ME GUESS, YOU ACCEPTED IMMEDIATELY! DIDN’T EVEN THINK ABOUT THE REST OF US! THE SECOND SHE ASKED YOU TO DO SOMETHING YOU THREW YOURSELF INTO IT, NO QUESTIONS ASKED!”

“Her Highness sa-”

“SO WHAT?! DOES THAT MEAN THAT WE HAVE TO SERVE AS MINDLESS DRONES FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES?!!”

Getting angry himself, Andrew retorted, “You’re twisting my wor-”

“NO, I’M NOT!” Callie screamed, before continuing in a low growl, “YES, SHE SAVED THE BOILING ISLES. I’LL ALWAYS RESPECT HER FOR THAT, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE TO GIVE UP THE DREAM WE HAD OF RAISING A FAMILY AS RECOMPENSE FOR THINGS SHE DID WHEN SHE WAS A TEENAGER! EVEN IF SHE SAVED OUR LIVES, THAT DOESN’T MEAN THAT WE SHOULD STOP ENJOYING LIFE IN EXCHANGE!”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed, “Our family wouldn’t exist withou-”

“IT BARELY EXISTS NOW! WHAT?! WHAT COULD BE SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU’RE WILLING TO ALL BUT ABANDON US?!”

Again, he stayed silent, a faint ring of light shimmering into existence around his hand.

Callie’s jaw dropped, “DID YOU SWEAR A FUCKING OATH?!!” 

Silence.

The enraged veteran bellowed at her husband, “IF YOU’RE SO EAGER TO SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE FOR HER ROYAL FUCKING MAJE-”

“DON’T INSULT HER HIGHNESS LIKE THAT!” Andrew barked.

“THE EMPRESS ISN’T YOUR FAMILY! WE ARE!” Callie screamed, every muscle in her body straining under titanic pressure to prevent her from throttling the man in front of her.

“WE’D ALL BE DEAD IF IT WASN’T FOR HER!!!”

“IF YOU’RE SO EAGER TO GIVE EVERYTHING TO THAT WOMAN THEN WHY DON’T YOU JUST HEAD BACK TO THE FUCKING ARMY?!!!”

Andrew Davies glared at his wife and roared, “I WILL NOT DISOBEY HER HIGHNESS!!!!!!!”

“AT THIS POINT WE’D HAVE BEEN BETTER OFF DYING IN STERNHAVEN!!!!!!!!!!” Callie’s entire body pulsed with anger, her breath ragged. Taking a deep breath, and pointing at the door, she spat out, “GET OUT, AND DON’T COME BACK HERE UNTIL YOU’RE READY TO BE A FUCKING FATHER TO YOUR CHILDREN.”

As his wife stormed off, Andrew Davies buried the guilt threatening to bubble up. I follow Her Majesty’s command. 

Chapter 14

Summary:

The search begins in earnest.

Luz and Amity walked out of the shimmering yellow light, the portal door closing behind them. “Why can’t she be happy for us?!” The human loudly complained.

Amity, her expression tired from the shouting match that she had just witnessed between her fiancée and the elder Latina, softly answered, “Camila’s just concerned for our safety, Batata.”

“That does not get rid of the fact that the idea of us living on Earth is a non-starter.” Luz scoffed.

Amity sighed, “Yes, but tha-”

“For years she hoped that I would find some friends and stop being such a lonely recluse! No matter how many times I tell her, she just doesn’t seem to understand that she’s asking both of us to consign ourselves to living indoors almost 24/7!” Before Amity could say anything in response to that Luz began impersonating her mother, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Mija, since I apparently don’t believe that you can fend off the occasional thug, even though I know damn well that you overthrew a dictator and killed a god, why don’t you hide in my house? No, ignore the fact that people might ask questions as to how a second Luz Noceda and a woman with no documented past suddenly showed up! I don’t care that we’ve already been extremely lucky that no one has noticed that when you visit! That doesn’t matter, BECAUSE YOUR MAMI THINKS YOU’RE STILL A SCARED, DEFENSELESS, LONELY LITTLE GIRL!”

Her heart broke over her fiancée’s venomous glower and the creaking of her clenched teeth, causing the industrialist to pull Luz into a tight embrace, and rubbed her hand soothingly up and down Luz’s back, feeling the muscles slowly relax. “Camila doesn’t actually think that” Amity patiently soothed, “and I hope that you don’t believe that she does.”

“It sure seems that way.” Luz grumbled. “Otherwise, why would she keep asking for the impossible?”

“People aren’t always rational, Batata.” Amity calmly answered.

“You are though,” Luz griped.

“Says the woman I tried to dissect because I was unable to handle a classmate receiving a higher mark than me.”

“Fair point,” Luz muttered.

Amity stepped back and held her fiancée’s hands in her own, holding Luz’s gaze. “Batata, you need to understand that yes, Camila is making an unreasonable request, but she is doing so because she’s your mother, and is understandably worried, albeit to an arguably excessive degree, for her eldest daughter’s safety.”

“Technically we’re not sure if Vee is younger than me.”

Amity glared at Luz.

“Right, sorry, not the point.”

“You could perhaps devise a way to calmly convince Camila that she may worry a little less about us.” Amity firmly suggested.

Luz exhaled loudly and rubbed her temples, her mind working overtime to both come up with a solution and tamp down the rage threatening to ignite once again.

The young industrialist waited patiently for her fiancée to brainstorm a solution.

The glyph-user slowly stopped rubbing her temples, muttering, “Yeah, that might work.”

“Batata,” Amity spoke up, “do you have an idea?”

“I think so,” Luz softly confirmed. “What if we gave her a tour of the Isles?”

The lilac-haired witch raised an eyebrow, confused. “Camila has visited the Isles multiple times.”

“Yeah, but she’s only been around Bonesborough and the Owl House. Why don’t we give her a real tour?” Luz then gave a lop-sided smile. “That way I can show her what makes our home so awesome?”

Amity internally debated the idea before smiling. “I think that sounds like a fine idea.”

“Oh,” Luz exclaimed, perking up even more, “maybe it could be a big family vacation! We should have Eda, Raine, King, and Vee come too!”

Amity’s gaze and tone turned somber. “Batata, you know that Vee doesn’t ever want to set foot on the Isles again.”

Luz winced, ashamed that she forgot such a basic fact about her sister, her shoulder slumping. “Eh, probably for the best, a hysterical Vee probably wouldn’t help convince Mom.” Her expression then soured, and she added, “Plus, she’d definitely bring along Dahlia.”

“Why would that be a problem?” Amity asked, slightly taken aback by Luz’s response and concurrent change in demeanor.

Luz raised an eyebrow. “Have you not noticed that she always seems to be in a foul mood?”

Amity’s surprise grew. “I’ve never gotten that impression from her. She is always quite pleasant whenever I talk with her.”

“Maybe it’s all in my head.” Luz sighed.

“Perhaps it might prove beneficial to talk things out with Dahlia?” Amity suggested.

Luz scoffed. “Yeah, or I could not do that.”

Amity sighed, “You could take that approach, or you could realize that Dahlia is almost certainly going to be your sister-in-law, so you should at least attempt being cordial with her.”

“Fine…” Luz groaned, repeatedly clenching, and unclenching her fists, “but I’m doing it for Vee.”

“That’s good enough.”

“I’ll do it after we give Mom the tour though.”

“That is acceptable, but you should not put it off forever.” Amity firmly warned.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Luz exhaled loudly, not looking forward to speaking with Dahlia. Tilting her head back, she thought, for the decidedly not first time, what does Vee see in her? She shook her head, No, not important right now.

“I recommend that we pay a visit to Sternhaven.”

“Let me guess,” Luz smiled, “you want to show off the buildings.”

The lilac-haired industrialist blushed slightly. “It’s not my fault that Sternhaven has the most surviving examples of pre-Deadwardian architecture.”

Luz laughed, “Still an academic at heart, I see.”

“Oh, hush, you love that about me.”

“You know it, Hermosa,” Luz chuckled, smiling fondly, before her eyes lit up with an idea. “Hey, the Chomping Conifers should be in their spring mating season right now. We could visit the Lumbarnan Woods to watch. Sure, they’re plants, but I think Mami would still be interested.”

Amity stared blankly. “I see two distinct flaws in this plan.”

“What do you mean?”

“First, if the plan is to convince Camila that it is safe for us to reside in the Isles, then it may not be productive to show her a courtship ritual that consists of shuffling, witch-sized piles of snarling vines ripping each other to shreds to earn the right to mate with a howling tree.”

“… Oh, right.” Luz flushed with embarrassment. “Even so, the Lumbarnan woods are still beautiful this time of year, so we could just make sure to avoid the Chomping Conifers.”

“We could do that, but have you somehow forgotten that the abdomen is the most chaotic region of the Isles?” Amity’s expression became serious. “I think it would be too risky, even with the five of us there to protect Camila.”

“Psssh,” Luz waved her hand dismissively, “that part’s not a problem. I can get the Badgerwings to guard us while we’re around Lumbarna.”

Amity raised an eyebrow, “I thought you didn’t want to ever pay a protection racket.”

“And I still don’t, but we won’t have to.” Luz smirked, “Bones owes me a favor.”

“And how did you manage to procure a favor from him?” Amity asked cautiously, fearing what misadventure her fiancée found herself in that could have resulted in one of the most ruthless mob bosses on the Isles owing a debt to Luz.

Luz shrugged, and nonchalantly explained, “A few months ago I was in a bar in Lumbarna, and a couple of drunk, jacked twins started hitting on me. Even after I showed them I was taken,” Luz continued, showing the back of her hand, and the ring on it, for emphasis, “they wouldn’t let up. No one else in the bar seemed to care either.”

“And then what happened?” Amity inquired, nervous as to where this story was going or how it ended with the Lumbarnan Don owing the human a favor.

Luz smirked, “I beat them up six ways to Sunday.”

“Wasn’t that a bit excessive?” Amity asked, rolling her eyes.

“Given that they tried to fondle me,” Luz scoffed, “no, I don’t think so.”

“THEY TRIED TO WHAT?!” Amity growled, suddenly in the mood to exact some justice of her own.

Luz chuckled at her fiancée’s change in demeanor and kissed the lilac-haired witch on the forehead, “Easy girl, I think they learned their lesson.”

The shorter woman muttered, and barely restrained herself from muttering a few literal curses, narrowly remembering the potential consequences from Oracle magic not being her strong suit. After a deep breath, Amity straightened, realizing that there was still a certain matter that hadn’t been explained. “How does this relate to the aforementioned favor?”

“Well, it turns out that they were the leaders of a gang trying to muscle in on the protection racket and bodyguarding markets in Lumbarna. With their leaders in full body casts, the gang pulled out of the city. Bones said that, in exchange for dealing with his competition, I could have a few thousand snails or a few days of free bodyguarding if I was ever in the area again.”

Amity tilted her head in confusion. “Why did you not accept the compensation? Even if you make a tidy sum tutoring others to use glyphs, and fulfilling the occasional bounty, a larger safety net is always beneficial.”

It was Luz’s turn to stare dumbfounded at her fiancée. “Hermosa, can you name even one person in the entirety of the Boiling Isles that is richer than you?”

Amity opened her mouth to speak before promptly realizing the answer was an emphatic no. Shrinking back a bit, an embarrassed Amity replied, “I see your point.”

“I’ll never understand how you sometimes forget just how filthy rich you are.” Luz chuckled.

Grinning back, said filthy rich witch teased, “So, you were just a snail digger all along?”

“At first,” Luz smirked, “but then I made the terrible mistake of actually falling in love with you.”

“That was quite amateurish of you.” Amity replied, her grin widening.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been so adorable,” Luz cooed back, pulling her fiancée into an embrace, and nuzzling the shorter woman’s forehead.

Amity giggled, turning her legs into abomination goo, and stretching up to kiss Luz more easily. “You stole my line.”

Luz dramatically pulled back and slammed her splayed hand on her chest, a look of feigned horror on her face. “I apologize, Madam. Is there a way I can possibly repay you?”

Amity leaned back in to nuzzle Luz and whispered, “I’ll think of something. In the meantime, why don’t we brainstorm some more ideas, and then head back and present the plan to Camila.”

“You think this might work?” the lanky girl asked hopefully.

The shorter, pale witch nodded. “We first have to figure out a time when everyone can get together for it, but, yes, I think showing your mother around Isles might work.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t rain,” Luz chuckled. “Mom getting hurt would probably not help to convince her that it’s safe living here.”

                                                     

Luz bolted awake, her lungs desperately sucking in every ounce of oxygen they could, her mind fixated on the last moment of her dream, an image of red pines and clumps of grey fur scattered amongst pools of crimson and shimmering navy blue blood. Sighing, the Empress shuffled out of bed, heading to the bathroom.

Groggy, Amity rubbed her eyes to banish the drowsiness, and asked, “Did you have that nightmare again, Batata?”

Luz, panting, opened the bathroom door, and, adopting a mock tone of pleasant surprise, sardonically joked, “No, my mind decided to introduce some variety.”

“Was it another memory?” The Royal Consort frowned.

Luz, feeling the bile finally start to burn her throat, nodded as she kneeled down and opened the toilet.

“Is there anything I could do to help?” The lilac-haired witch inquired.

Luz shook her head. “Unless you want to go memory diving, I don’t *hurk* think so.”

Amity’s eye twitched at the idea of her memory diving, but took a deep breath and cautiously offered, “If you thought that would help, I could try that.”

Luz snorted, only for her amusement to be interrupted by her stomach once again ejecting its contents. “No, sorry, I was joking. I wouldn’t make you do that.”

“Perhaps someone else then, maybe Willow?”

Luz barked out a harsh laugh, only for that to transition into retching. When she was able to speak again the Empress bitterly spat, “Yeah, I bet she’d love that.”

“I beg your pardon?” Amity asked, confused.

“How can I be sure she wouldn’t take the opportunity to ‘adjust’ a few other things while in there?”

Amity, baffled, spluttered, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

Spitting out both her words and the last of the bile, Luz hissed, “Until she can prove that she won’t go behind my back again, I’m not letting her into my head.”

“Luz, you’re being ridiculous.” Amity chastised her wife.

The Empress growled and, snapping into her ‘command’ tone, declared, “She’s not rooting around in my head and that’s final.”

Amity’s jaw dropped for a brief moment before her eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. “I understand that you’re under a lot of stress right now, so I’ll let it slide this time, but don’t ever take that tone with me again. I’m your wife, not your subordinate.”

“Right, sorry.” Luz replied meekly, shrinking under her wife’s glower. After a few seconds, the human began wiping the nascent tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“I forgive you,” Amity soothingly reassured, her face softening. “Besides, I think I was a tad too harsh as well just now.”

Luz shook her head, tears still forming, and turned to embrace her wife. “No, you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have talked to you that way.”

“That may be so,” Amity sighed, “but I still feel that I should have been more patient with you. I know there are a lot of hormones flowing through your system.”

The expectant woman tightened her grip on her rock. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault, and it’s definitely not Junior’s. I’m the one in the wrong here.”

Luz refused to let go of Amity for several minutes, the human attempting to convey the sincerity of her apology through her continued embrace.

Eventually though, the two royals had to get ready for the day. The Isles couldn’t run themselves after all. Amity noticed that Luz, who had been adjusting the skin-tight black fabric of her right sleeve, was staring at the rows of deep, slashed scars on her wrist. Walking up and wrapping her arms around the 6’ 1” human from behind Amity softly asked, “You got that one at the Knee, correct, or was it the march to the Toes?”

Luz shook her head, and soberly corrected, “In the Lumbarnan Woods.”

 

Theodore Lyles, assistant head of the Oracle Coven, was sitting at the dinner table with his wife and daughter. A nostalgic smile on his face, the Oracle witch asked, “So, I hear there was an incident at preschool today?”

His wife Miriam sighed, but also wore a smile, “Alicia got into the finger-paint. Again.”

Theodore laughed, “Do you plan on being an artist when you grow up, Alicia?”

“YUP!” the four-year-old happily exclaimed, immediately returning to eating her slitherbeast-shaped cockatrice nuggets.

“CAW CAW* The crow phone cried out.

“I swear,” Miriam groaned, “those salesmen are so pushy lately.”

*CAW CAW*

Theodore chuckled and, getting up, kissed his wife on the cheek, their daughter dramatically gagging at the display, “I’ll get the crow this time.”

*CAW CAW*

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.” The relieved woman sighed.

Walking over to the kitchen counter Theodore picked up the crow as it let out a fourth cry. The voice of Mia Ethelia, head of the Oracle Coven, came through the line. “Is that you Lyles?”

“Correct, how may I be of assistance, Madam Ethelia?” Theodore asked, keeping his suspicion that this was a prank call by some bored teenager who had just learned about voice-changing potions out of his tone. On a related note, Theodore also managed to keep his concern from leaking into his voice. If this wasn’t a prank call, then that meant that he was probably going to have a very stressful night. Mia never calls me this late unless it’s an emergency.

Confirming his second suspicion, Ethelia replied, “Lyles, something came up. I need you to meet me at the ICI headquarters ASAP and take over the interrogation of the Bonesborough air traffic controller.”

“Of course, coven head, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Theodore Lyles nodded.

“Make it five.” Mia curtly demanded, before immediately hanging up.

Theodore turned back to his family with a grimace. “Madam Ethelia just called. There’s an urgent matter I need to see to. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

The woman sighed but looked back at her apologetic husband with a soft smile, “I’ll put your leftovers in the fridge.”

Theodore walked over to his wife and kissed her on the cheek, “I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can.”

Miriam nodded. “Don’t worry, I know you wouldn’t leave if you didn’t have to.”

Finally tearing her attention away from her food, Alicia asked curiously, “Where are you going, Daddy?”

“Daddy has to take care of something at work.” Miriam softly explained.

“But… but what about storytime?” the hurt toddler asked.

Theodore scooped his daughter up into a hug and gave her a barrage of kisses, causing the witchling to squeal with delight. Looking the mollified toddler in the eyes, the father calmly offered, “If I don’t make it back in time to tuck you in, I’ll read you two stories tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Alicia’s eyes lit up and she exclaimed, “TWO STORIES?!”

Theodore couldn’t help but chuckle at seeing his daughter so happy. “I’m guessing that’s acceptable?”

The young girl vigorously nodded.

Setting his daughter back down in her seat, the assistant coven head tapped his foot twice, a fringed jumping spider the size of a bowling ball sprinting towards him. Turning back towards his wife, the Oracle witch again apologized, “I’m sorry I have to go. I love you dear.”

“I love you too.”

Thankfully I didn’t already change out of my work clothes. Theodore thought as he headed for the door, futilely attempting to improve his mood.

Closing the front door behind him, Theodore gave his palisman a quick scratch on the top of her head, on the spot she liked, right behind her anterior eyes. “Duty calls, Bianca.”

The palisman nodded, transforming into her staff form.

“I should have found a job with a better work-life balance,” Theodore grumbled, mounting his palisman.

Flying over the ventilation spires the assistant coven head inhaled deeply, the smell of the muggy thermals nostalgic to him. Maybe we could take Alicia camping at the Toes when she’s a bit older.

Speeding towards the moat surrounding the castle, Theodore smoothly began descending, curving his flight path towards the southeast corner of the outer wall of the moat. Landing in front of a closed pair of gargantuan double doors, each emblazoned with an open eye, the insignia of the Oracle Coven, the assistant coven head dismounted his palisman, the spider immediately taking the opportunity to revert to her animated form, clambering up his side before shifting to cling to him like a backpack. A soft smile crossed his face, and he gave Bianca a quick scratch to thank her for transporting him this late, a gesture the palisman accepted with a satisfied wave of her pedipalps.

The Oracle witch walked towards the side entrance, placing his hand on a small fingerprint scanning demon clinging to the stone wall next to the door. “ENTER.” The demon harshly barked, the door right beside them opening.

Lyles walked through the adjoining hallway into the spacious lobby, to which he paid no attention, swiftly turning on his heels to head down the left-hand passageway. A large, muscular witch stood behind a desk, and opened his mouth to speak, only to close it when Lyles had already summoned his scroll and handed it over to him without slowing down.

Briskly making his way through the ICI headquarters Lyles paid no attention to the unornamented hallways, conference rooms, offices, and atriums, instead continuing to walk at pace towards the interrogation wing.

Inside the interrogation wing Lyles encountered a few people wearing white cloaks standing outside one of the interrogation rooms. Noticing him, one of them spoke up, “In here, Sir.”

Lyles hesitated, then frowned. The royal guard’s taken an interest in the case? No… “Who are you people? You’re obviously not part of the guard if you’re walking around without masks. Either provide some identification, or a certificate of permission to be in the ICI or I will have to arrest all of you for trespassing and, if my assumption is correct, impersonating a government official.”

“Restrain him.” One of the cloaked people calmly said, the other two immediately summoned abomination goo and vines to bind and gag him, respectively. His body completely immobilized, the intruders dragged him into the interrogation room they had been standing outside of, forcibly seating him in a cold, metal chair, the abomination goo binding him to the seat. Opposite him sat a large, muscular, scaled, white-cloaked demon.

“Greetings, Mr. Theodore Lyles.” The woman stated in a cold, dispassionate tone.

The cloaked intruders that restrained him closed the door to the interrogation room behind them, the third waiting outside. When the vines were forcibly withered Theodore righteously yelled, “THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! WHO DO YOU PEOPLE THINK YOU ARE?!”

“I’m the one that’s going to be asking the questions here.” The woman curtly answered.

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO THIS!”

“Oh, do calm down. Now, if you keep making a scene, I will arrest you for obstruction of justice and treason.”

“ON WHOSE AUTHORITY?! WHEN THE EMPRESS HEARS ABOUT THIS-”

The woman rolled her eyes and withdrew a small crystal ball and tapped it. Immediately, the Empress’ stern visage filled the orb, and proclaimed, “I, Luz Noceda, Empress of the Boiling Isles, do grant this taskforce the license to, with the sole exception of torture, pursue the fulfillment of their duties in the manner they see fit.”

Setting the crystal ball on a stand the woman made eye contact with Lyles’ stunned expression. “Who we are is not for you to know, and I do hope that I don’t have to explain to the assistant head of the Oracle Coven the concept of classified information. Now, Mr. Theodore Lyles, I imagine that both of us would rather that I not have to haul you off to the nearest penitentiary, so are you going to cooperate?”

Lyles, still stunned, slowly nodded.

“Excellent.” The woman replied, her intonation unchanged, after having examined his demeanor for a few seconds. The scaled demon swiped her finger across the crystal ball, the image shifting to a red circle that glowed when she tapped it. “Now, is it correct that you were aware of the Empress’ summer home, and that she was vacationing in said home on Friday four weeks ago?”

The oracle witch nodded.

“Are you aware of any incidents involving said summer home?”

The Empress’s early return from her vacation had struck Lyles as odd, but he could honestly answer: “No, I am not.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am, Madam. I was not informed of any incidents involving the Empress’ summer residence,” Lyles responded calmly.

The woman just as calmly and even more dispassionately replied “The Empress’ summer home was assaulted hours into her stay and razed to the ground. Were you not aware of this?”

Well, this could end very badly for me. Lyles thought, his face still emotionless. “No, I did not know that.”

“Mr. Lyles, how long have you known about the existence of Her Majesty’s summer residence?”

“I was aware of it when it was constructed, about four or five years ago. Took her long enough to actually use the place.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s like how my old man was. He also acted as if he believed that if he, at any point, stopped working, then his heart would fail.”

The woman in a monotone voice replied, “Mine was used for spare parts to repair the other puppets.”

Lyles feigned a thoughtful nod, but internally gawked at the sorry performance playing out in front of him. I refuse to believe that this is the best interrogator this mystery group has. If you’re trying to build a rapport don’t act like an emotionless abomaton.

“Did you divulge where the Empress would be to anyone, or give any indication of her possible location?”

Lyles shook his head. “No, I did not.”

“Did you divulge the existence of the portal entrance to anyone at any point?”

Ah, so that’s how she got to it without being spotted. Lyles thought, before answering, “I was not informed that the residence was outfitted with a portal.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Have you at any point been inebriated enough that you could have divulged information without your recollection?”

The oracle witch shook his head again. “Not possible. I’m a teetotaler.”

Her eyes narrowed further. “Have your faculties ever been impaired by any other substance, potion, or illness since you were informed of the existence of Her Majesty’s summer residence?”

“No, never, I have refrained from mind-altering substances since I first joined the Oracle Coven and I have always been freakishly healthy.”

Her voice still cold and dispassionate, the woman continued. “What about your wife and daughter?”

Lyles internally sighed, seeing where this was going, and replied “Miriam and Alicia are unfortunately quite the opposite. They have a habit of catching every bug that spreads through the neighborhood.”

“How long have you lived with them?”

I almost forgot what it's like being on the receiving end, being asked questions they already know the answers to. It’s less annoying than I remember, the assistant coven head thought. “My daughter is four and I’ve lived with my wife for 9 years now.”

The woman then asked, her eyes somehow still further narrowing, “And at no point did you ever catch ill, and temporarily lose your faculties, despite living with two sickly individuals?”

“That is correct.”

“I must remind you, if you lie to me, I will have to detain you.”

“Fortunate for both of us then that I haven’t been anything other than completely truthful with you,” Lyles responded, mentally kicking himself for letting a hint of snark creep into his tone.

Without changing her tone from the cold, dispassionate voice she has been using, the woman chided Lyles “Don’t be cheeky.”

 

Two hours later, Lyles was getting quite bored, and internally complained, I can’t believe I had to leave dinner early for this.

The oracle witch patiently waited for another inane question, only for her to tap the crystal ball, the red core no longer glowing, and promptly hold out her hand to her side. “Sand, please.”

Of course. Lyles mentally groaned as one of the white cloaks handed over a vial of glimmering, iridescent sand, which the woman uncorked, dumped into the palm of her hand, and blew into his face.

Immediately the assistant coven head fell asleep, his head falling onto the table with a loud thud.

“Tweezers,” the woman requested, using the same cold voice that she had the entire evening.

Toothed tweezers in hand, the woman pulled out a polaroid-camera style image depicting the interrogation room. Casting a quick illusion spell, the memory altered to him spending the rest of his evening with his family. The woman promptly inserted the memory back into the man’s head.

Turning to her colleagues the woman asked, “Have we received word from Johnson and Cancer yet?”

The two others in the room nodded. “His wife and daughter’s memories will corroborate his own?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Including his palisman’s memories?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Excellent, now, Carnassia, please deliver Mr. Lyles back to his residence. Valeno, bring the next suspect in please.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Of course, Inspector Williams.”

Chapter 15

Summary:

Boscha deals with her actions finally catching up with her.

- 2 Weeks After the Interrogation of Theodore Lyles -

Underground, beneath the unofficial Business District of northwest Castletown, laid the headquarters of the Potions Coven. Publicly the Potions Coven was as morally upstanding as any of the other covens. The corruption that had been allowed to flourish without restraint under Belos had been, and continued to be, harshly stamped out. Anyone who tried to engage in under-the-table deals, embezzlement, or conflicts of interest quickly found themselves fired, hit with massive fines, and often jailed. Secretly, the Potions Coven was a den of corruption, but the infection just happened to quarantine itself to the Office of the Coven Head.

Sat in her office, Boscha Hollowleaf was in a good mood. Today had been a productive day! She’d managed to launder five times her salary through several shell companies and tailor a government contract so that the specifications just so happened to leave only one company that could possibly fill them. Her shareholders were going to be quite pleased with the next quarterly report.

Looking over the merger contract in her hands Boscha smirked, thinking, this should help spread out my cash flow some more. Her good mood was ever so briefly diminished by a nagging little voice in the back of her head, which she immediately clamped down on the annoyance. She was not doing anything wrong. She was simply utilizing the resources at her disposal for her own advancement. Like Mom always said, ‘the one who dies with the most stuff wins.’

Collecting her files to secure them in her secret vault, Boscha opened the uppermost drawer on the right side of her desk. When she reached in to press a secret button affixed to the underside of the top panel the triclops froze. Her pink skin turned a sickly imitation of champagne, and her stomach plummeted. The ridge on the button had turned 90 degrees from where it should be. The tiny abomitech motor embedded in the button’s base only activated every time she locked her vault, rotating the button each time. Someone had opened her safe.

Frantically shutting the drawer and stuffing her files in her bag, Boscha proceeded to panic. Was… was it an employee? Boscha wondered, before dismissing that thought. No, everyone here is a sycophant. Maybe Painsley is out for me? No, she’d need a warrant to search my office. I’ve cleaned up my trail too well. Pacing back and forth, Boscha desperately tried to figure out who could be the culprit, who could have possibly cottoned on to her corruption. Though, Boscha considered, what if it wasn’t - Then it hit her. Luz’s investigation. They already saw her as a suspect, granted not for corruption, and Luz had given them all but no limits. Oh no, th-

*CAW CAW* Her office crow phone suddenly blared.

“AAAGGGGGHHHH!!!!” Boscha screamed, her heart leaping out of her chest, and she doubled over, pausing to catch her breath.

*CAW CAW*

*CAW CAW*

*CAW CA-*

Her hand shaking, Boscha grabbed the phone, and shakily said, “Boscha Hollowleaf, wh- who is this?”

Her secretary’s voice came through the line, “Ma’am, you asked me to remind you to meet up with Mrs. Fairview at 4 PM.”

“Oh… oh. Okay. Yeah, thanks.” Boscha stammered.

“Of course, Ma’am.” He concluded, promptly hanging up.

Her nerves beyond frayed, Boscha gathered up her things and headed out of her office.

 

As she walked through the castle, Boscha did her best to exude a confident attitude. Nothing to see here. Boscha nervously thought. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Turning a corner nearly caused Boscha to yelp in panic at the sight of two royal guards on their regular patrols. Boscha was only saved by the fact that her panic response had also involved violently clenching her jaw shut.

Upon feeling the slightest chill on her temples, Boscha’s heart jumped. Nervous sweat had begun to form on her temples, leaving behind a cold slick as it trailed down her face. Boscha wrenched open her bag and frantically grabbed a handkerchief, or the first approximation of one that her panic-filled eyes latched onto and dabbed the incriminating clues away. As she calmed down though, her higher brain functions started working through the backlog of thoughts and sensations that had piled up when primal fear had shoved them aside.

Noticing the stiff, papery feel of what she held in her hand, Boscha blanched. Trying to minimize the crinkling that was spiking her blood pressure, STOP MAKING SO MUCH NOISE! The triclops unfolded the document, blanching at the sight of the Potions’ Coven Insignia on it. It was the contract she had rigged.

Suppressing yet another scream, Boscha quickly stuffed the paper back in her bag and ducked into a nearby closet after checking that no one was around.

Sliding down against the far wall, Boscha’s lung took the opportunity of privacy to engage in that hyperventilation that the bossy brain upstairs had been stubbornly telling it not to do.

CALM DOWN YOU IDIOT! THEY’LL CATCH ON IF YOU HAVE A FUCKING PANIC ATTACK IN THE HALLWAYS! I AM NOT SPENDING THE REST OF MY LIFE IN A FUCKING CE-

Thinking that proved immediately to be a mistake. The triclops’ mind was transported straight to the conformatorium. She’d been there once. Years ago, she had been part of a force to free innocents and some of her comrades who’d been trapped there by the local warlord. Now though, now she imagined herself on the other side of those bars. She could already feel the cold, enchanted stone sapping the warmth from her body, the cries of other prisoners filling her ears, and the world around her dimming to match the meager light she rememb- that she’d re- *THUD*

The stress finally overtaking her, Boscha, CEO of Hollowleaf Solutions, Head of the Potions Coven, Hero of the Assault on the Knee, passed out.

 

Waking up a few minutes later, Boscha blinked slowly, confused, What? Why am I in a closet… Oh, right. That’s why.

Letting out a long, deep sigh, the Coven Head buried her face in her hands.

She was screwed.

How do I fix this?

A few seconds later a brief buzz emanated from her bag.

Huh? Boscha thought before opening her purse to find that, in her panicked state, she had chucked her scroll into her bag along with the documents rather than dispelling it.

Taking her scroll out Boscha found that it was a notification of a message from Skara on Penstagram.

silver_siren: where are you

BANSHEE.QUEEN1: Got held up. On my way.

silver_siren: hurry up! theyre getting antsy

BANSHEE.QUEEN1: Skare-bear. Be honest.

silver.siren: fine. im the one getting antsy

silver.siren: can you blame me for being excited though?

The triclops sighed. She couldn’t blame Skara. Up until this afternoon she had also been excited. And why wouldn’t she have been? Today should have been one of the happiest days of her life. Instead, it had turned into a nightmare.

BANSHEE_QUEEN1: ... No. I'm excited too.

silver.siren: knew it.

silver.siren: the nurse is taking me to the observation room so get your butt over here

The corner of her mouth briefly twitched upwards before falling back down. Titan, she really had screwed up, hadn’t she?

After making herself more presentable, Boscha sighed and left to go meet up with her wife.

 

The nurse Boscha was following stopped by room 27 and opened the door. “Mrs. Fairview is in here, Mrs. Hollowleaf.”

“Thank you.” Boscha replied.

Entering the room, the triclops found her wife with a smirk on her face. Skara opened her mouth to crack a joke before noticing Boscha’s frazzled appearance and odd pallor. “Boschie, are feeling okay?”

“Hm?! Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m doing great.”

Skara made no attempt to hide her worry. “Don’t lie to me. I don’t need to be an oracle to tell that you’re stressed. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! I told you.” Boscha squirmed.

Skara had never seen Boscha so jittery and nervous. The pink-skinned witch seemed to be actively restraining herself from jumping at every small sound. “Wait, you said you were held up by something? What was it?” Skara’s eyes narrowed, adding in a low tone, “Do I need to give someone an earful?”

“NO!” Boscha belted out, before wincing at how that only made Skara visibly more worried. “No. No. I… I… I’m just so excited!”

Skara raised an eyebrow in confusion before her eyes widened slightly, a thought crossing her mind. “Wait, Boschie, are you worried about the baby?”

“YES!” Boscha shouted, jumping at the opportunity to climb out the hole she’d been digging using the rope her wife had just unknowingly thrown at her. “Sorry, yeah, I… I didn’t want to tell you. We’ve been talking about this for so long I didn’t want to make you worry too.”

The tension visibly washed off Skara and she stood up to pull her Boscha into a tight embrace. “You idiot. How long have you had this eating at you?”

Boscha gulped. “A… a while.”

Skara squeezed harder. “You could have told me. I’m worried too, you know.”

“You... you are?” Boscha nervously asked.

Skara gave a mirthless laugh, “Of course I am, but I keep it in check by reminding myself that the pregnancy has gone smoothly so far, and that it’s probably going to continue that way.”

Boscha croaks out, “And that works?”

Skara shrugged, “Usually.”

Before Boscha could say anything else, the two witches heard a knock on the door followed by Ramus, the Royal Physician, walking in. “Ah, Coven Heads, how have you been?”

“We’re doing well, Healer Ramus.” Skara smiled.

“Yeah,” Boscha responded, while thinking, my desk is the first sign of the investigation that I’ve noticed since Luz started it. There’s no way that’s the only thing they’ve searched though. Luz wouldn’t tolerate them being lazy or incompetent.

“Coven Head Hollowleaf, are you doing all right?”

“Mostly. I’ve- I’ve just been worried about the baby.” Boscha muttered, stiffly nodding. I need to check if my company office and the manor have also been compromised.

“Ah,” Ramus responded, nodding thoughtfully, “yes, that’s a common feeling, especially among first-time parents. However, I have no reason at this time to suspect any abnormalities or complications arising.”

Skara playfully elbowed Boscha, “See, I told you they were doing okay.”

“I’m sorry for being so anxious,” Boscha replied with a weak smile, rubbing the back of her head to feign embarrassment. I should assume I’m being monitored at all times. Oh, Titan, what if they’re using Oracles?! Why did I never take Mia’s advice on learning mind-shielding techniques?! Reckless idiot!

Skara smiled, pulling Boscha in for another hug. “Don’t be, it’s sweet that you already care so much about them.”

Responding on autopilot whenever Skara said something or Ramus asked a question, Boscha retreated inward, desperately trying to devise a solution to her predicament.

Wait, what if the task force hands off the case to the police? Sure, they probably searched my office trying to find out if I had anything to do with those idiots who tried to off Luz. Titan, if I ever find them, I’ll haul them to Luz myself. That might placate her. Maybe. Damn it. No, of course it wouldn’t. … In that case I guess I could strangle them myself. Boscha smiled at that thought, a response that was mistaken by Skara and Ramus for Boscha getting excited at Ramus saying that they were ready to begin Skara’s first intravision.

A few seconds later, Skara suddenly squealed and grabbed Boscha’s hand, shocking the triclops out of her focused state in which she had been considering bribing Painsley to, if her case had indeed been handed over to the police, sweep the case under the rug. Boscha had mentally groaned when she immediately realized the flaw in such a plan, that being that the task force would probably pick the case right back up after a while if no charges were ever levied against Boscha.

Boscha’s eyes widened as she saw Ramus finish drawing a rectangle of dark blue light on her wife’s abdomen, the skin bound within fading away. A few seconds later, after adjusting the image to show a different cross-section, Ramus threw it up into the air and zoomed in on a tiny, wait, no, TWO tiny blips.

Skara’s jaw dropped before she reached over to wrap her arms around Boscha in a constricting hug the Potions Coven Head immediately reciprocated. “TWINS! WE’RE HAVING TWINS!” Skara jubilantly shouted.

Shedding the most satisfying tears of joy she had ever experienced, Boscha and Skara shared the most passionate kiss they had had since Boscha had woken up in the field hospital at the knee, alive but sans original legs.

All thoughts of the investigation had been punted out of her mind as Boscha enjoyed the happiest moment of her life.

 

Touching down on the grounds of the Hollowleaf-Fairview Manor, the gears in Boscha’s mind were spinning out of control. The high of finding out they were expecting twins had faded away just enough for the looming threat of being imprisoned to dominate her thoughts once again. If I transfer the funds from… No, that’s stupid. Maybe I could… No, they’d catch on immediately. THERE HAS TO BE A WAY OUT OF THIS!

As they disembarked from their palismen, Skara grabbed Boscha’s wrist, which she barely noticed her doing. The Bard Coven Head’s hand trailed down to lace with the triclops’, Skara’s thumb slowly tracing a circle against the back of her wife’s. Skara, her voice tender, cautiously asked, “Are you worried about the twins again?”

After a brief pause, the question taking time to register, the lie easily passed Boscha’s lips. “Yeah,” Boscha responded, “yeah I am.”

Guiding Boscha’s hand to her midriff, Skara softly reassured her wife, “You heard what Ramus said. The babies are healthy.”

“Yeah- I… I know.” Boscha, picturing a cramped cell, gulped. “I… I can’t help but worry though.”

Skara nodded thoughtfully, before tearing up.

The triclops’ mind instantly screeched to a halt, the Potions Coven Head nervously inquiring, “What? What’s wrong?!”

Skara wiped the nascent tears from her eyes. “Nothing is wrong.” Skara reassured Boscha, “I- I’m just really happy that we’re finally going to be parents.”

If the Isles had been stable, the two of them would have started having kids much earlier, maybe by as much a decade. They could never justify it though. They were too busy; their lives were too dangerous. First on the front, then in the government. Now though, sure the Isles weren’t completely safe, but at least now the Empire had returned to some semblance of stability.

Pulling her wife in for a hug, Boscha quietly said, “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Neither can I.” Skara admitted, as tears of joy formed in her eyes once more, before adding, “I hope they look like you.”

“You can’t honestly want them to look like my ugly mug.” Boscha retorted, earning a chuckle out of the silver-eyed witch.

“You are by no means ugly.”

Boscha, a small grin forming, laughed. “Agree to disagree.”

The silver-eyed witch rolled her eyes. “Can you at least agree that it would be adorable if they turn out to be triclops like their mama?”

Snorting, Boscha shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh?” Skara playfully asked, “And what’s wrong with that?”

The triclops’ mind promptly became a battleground of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, as the memories of every scrape and gash she’d earned on the battlefield or on the grudgby pitch Boscha could barely restrain herself from smirking at how she’d powered through all of them. Such trivialities could never stop a witch as amazing as herself. On the other hand, while the idea of her kids possibly demonstrating similar resiliency caused her to feel pride, imagining them receiving the kinds of injuries she had was terrifying. Boscha winced, now fully understanding her father’s seemingly contradictory reactions to her childhood scrapes, and resolved to apologize to him when her time came.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself and tamp down her pride Boscha responded, “Besides risking a black eye if they fall down or bang their foreheads on something?” Raising her top and left eyebrows, she pointed to her top eye and added, “It’s a miracle this thing still works.”

“I guess we will just have to hope they aren’t clumsy.” Skara smirked.

“With you as their mom?” Boscha teased.

Skara let out a mock scoff, before snickering and saying, “I am not clumsy.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Boscha smirked back.

“You’re incorrigible.” Skara retorted, giggling.

“You know it!” Boscha agreed and let out a harsh bark of a laugh before kissing her wife on the forehead, causing the silver-eyed witch to melt. “Oh, look at that, another reason to hope that our kids take after you. It’s a lot less risky to kiss someone on the forehead when they don’t have a third eye there.”

Smiling, Skara leaned up to lightly kiss Boscha on the forehead, the triclops’ eyes instinctively closing. Leaving a light peck on Boscha’s third eye the pregnant witch softly retorted, “Not if one is careful.”

Boscha’s heart fluttered, and pulling her wife in for another hug, the pink-skinned witch croaked out, “I love you so much.”

“Right back at you, Boschie.”

The couple spent a few minutes enjoying each other’s embrace, indifferent to the muggy weather, before Skara piped up, admitting, “Boscha, I don’t know about you, but I’m too excited to wait to tell everyone about the twins.”

Boscha smiled, asking, “Let me guess, you want to go tell our parents right now?”

Skara, embarrassed, nodded, adding, “I also want to tell our friends at tomorrow’s meeting.”

“That sounds like a fine idea.”

To the triclops’ surprise, her wife responded by trying and failing to hold back a giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Boscha asked, confused.

“Oh, it’s just…” Skara began, still trying to hold back laughter, “I can only imagine how much Luz is going to suffer.”

“… huh?”

“Well,” Skara explained, letting out a light giggle, “now that even more of the council are parents, Amity is probably going to pester Luz even harder for kids.”

Boscha felt her heart race at the thought of Luz being in a foul mood, now, of all times.

 

“If no one else has anything else they would like to discuss then that concludes this meeting.” A tired Luz said, rubbing the bags out of her eyes.

Skara, a grin slowly creeping across her face, said, “Boscha and I have some news we’d like to share.”

Mia Ethelia raised an eyebrow, asking, “Is this official government business?”

“No, but-”

Mia stood up the second she heard Skara say ‘no,’ curtly remarking, “Then I’m going to get back to work.”

Skara stood up, and called out to the Oracle Witch, “Please, it will only take a few minutes!”

Madame Ethelia didn’t freeze or sit back down, instead briefly touching her thumb to the custom size crystal ball embedded into the distal digit of her ring finger, a purple glow emanating from it as she headed towards the exit. Touching the large glyph combination engraved into the doors she announced, in an apathetic tone, “Congratulations,” letting the doors slam behind her.

Half of the council’s jaws dropped. Though Mia had always been rather ornery and standoffish, this new low for the Oracle witch had come completely out of left field. Skara was briefly stunned, she’d never had someone read her thoughts without permission, and she wished that streak had continued. Yes, she had been about to reveal the information anyway, but Skara still felt that her privacy had been completely and utterly violated. “I… I…” Skara stammered.

Boscha rapidly looked back and forth between the stunned, hurt expression on her wife’s face, and the door through which the one who caused that left. Her nostrils flaring, temper rising, the triclops’ fury swelled. Just as she moved to stand up though, Boscha noticed something in her peripheral vision and immediately felt all of the warmth leave her body, rage replaced with terror in an instant. The Empress was in no mood for further disruption. The clenched jaw, the slight twitch in her eye, and the unyielding gaze fixed on the large doors through which Mia had just left all screamed of a slitherbeast ready to rip the next source of disruption to ribbons.

Turning to her wife, Boscha nudged Skara and, trying to suppress any fear from leaking into her voice, said, “Hey, that jerk doesn’t matter. Le- Let’s tell everyone the good news.”

Skara, mistaking the stammer as Boscha restraining anger at Mia, took a deep breath and nodded. Boscha was right, she could give Mia a verbal lashing later. And Skara absolutely was going to do that.

Turning back to her friends, Skara tried adopting a happy tone again, announcing, “What we were going to say, before that happened, is well…” Skara paused, taking another deep breath, revealing, “I’m pregnant.”

The room exploded into shouts and cheers.

“Oh Titan, congratulations!”

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!”

“You’re gonna be great moms!”

After giving their own offers of congratulations Mattholomule turned to Gus with a shit-eating grin on his face and held out his hand palm up. Gus rolled his eyes but gave a small smile, placing five snails in his friend’s hand which he pocketed with a boisterous laugh.

Her friends’ well wishes boosted Skara’s mood, a smile slowly returning to the bard’s face, a smile that only grew as she proudly announced, “And it’s twins!” That announcement caused almost everyone to engage in another round of offering congratulations, and Skara couldn’t help but beam.

Boscha meanwhile, was once again panicking. The walls were closing in, the sounds of other inmates filled her ears once more, and the light began to drain fro- NO! FUCK THAT! I didn’t get this far to let some nosy cops throw me in a cell for the rest of my life. I’M BOSCHA TITAN-DAMNED HOLLOWLEAF.

Her confidence’s revival was short-lived as she once again ran aground of the fact that she had absolutely no idea how to get out of this mess. Her first instinct was to try greasing some palms, but she immediately discarded that idea. The embezzlement charges alone meant Luz would 100% be informed, and Luz just wasn’t the kind of person that was susceptible to bribery. No, Luz wouldn’t even look at the snails. She’d just chuck me into solitary herself and melt the lock shut.

The outside world melted away as Boscha knocked down idea after idea. No matter what she came up with, each had some fatal flaw. Maybe I could divert more resources to the knee. Boscha considered, before dismissing that too. No, it’s already a minor miracle that it hasn’t been leaked.

The conversation continued as they slowly made their ways to the council doors. A rare look of tenderness back in her expression, Luz looked the Bard Coven Head in the eyes and said, “Congratulations, Skara.”

“Thank you!” Skara replied, beaming. “I know things are still a bit hectic, but Boscha and I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

Boscha, struggling to conceal that she was nearly on the verge of a panic attack at this point, croaked out, “Yeah, we’re really looking forward to becoming mothers.” Titan, I may never see my kids from outside a cell!

The silver-eyed witch wrapped one arm around Boscha pulling her close. “They’re going to love you, Boscha.”

Only if I figure a way out of this mess.

“I can’t wait to hold them in my arms.” Skara gushed.

“Be ready to possibly lose quite a bit of sleep.” Willow joked. “Some kids sleep easy, but others,” Willow let out a happy, yet exhausted, sigh, “others don’t.”

Skara shrugged and replied, “I’m willing to deal with that.” She then smiled, cheerfully adding, “Even if that’s the case, Boscha and I will be able to handle it.”

“I hope we can,” Boscha replied, nervously laughing.

Skara, mistaking the source of Boscha’s nervousness, leaned up to kiss Boscha on the cheek and attempted to reassure her, “Of course we can.”

At that point the group noticed that Luz had turned somber.

“What’s wrong?” Willow asked.

Luz’s eyes flicked over to Willow, her gaze briefly turning icy. Her expression quickly returned to a somber state, and Luz dismissively said, “It doesn’t matter. I won’t ruin Skara and Boscha’s big day.”

Skara shook her head, “That’s nonsense. You’re our friend. We want to help.”

“It’s just that…” Luz sighed, “everyone having kids is making me think of Vee. She probably has some of her own by now.”

Willow reached a comforting hand toward Luz’s shoulder. The Empress flinched, and her gaze snapped back to Willow. 

“Don’t. Please, I… I would prefer to avoid physical contact right now.”

Willow, hurt by Luz’s reaction, took her hand off Luz’s shoulder, her eyes meeting Luz’s, unyielding.

“I’m sure that Vee is very happy right now.” Skara piped up, uncomfortable with the sudden tension.

Luz sighed again, “That’s probably true, but even so I’d give almost anything to see her again.”

The gears in Boscha’s mind slammed to a halt at that. This was it. Secrecy be damned, Boscha had to funnel as much manpower and resources as she could spare into her search for titan blood.

Notes:

I experienced a technical difficulty and had to repost the chapter. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.

Chapter 16

Summary:

Boscha's woes continue.

Locking the bathroom door behind her, Luz let out a happy sigh. This had been the first morning in months that she hadn’t woken up needing to empty her guts. While a single example wasn’t indicative of anything, as Amity would say, Luz hoped that it was a sign that her morning sickness might finally be behind her.

Luz reached past the curtain and turned on the shower. After adjusting the temperature to her liking, she began pulling off her pajama top only to notice that her normally flat midriff was ever so slightly distended. Tears welled in her eyes. “Hey there Junior. I see you’re getting big.” Luz gushed to the barely noticeable bump. “That’s good. Make sure to get big and strong, kid. Your Mama and I can wait.”

“Oh, speaking of your Mama.” Luz exclaimed, a thought striking her. Turning around, Luz opened the door to her bedroom and called out, “Amity!”

Turning around, the lilac-haired witch saw her wife standing in the entryway to the bathroom, her hands gently splayed against her midriff, and a beaming smile on her face. Amity smiled back, happy to see Luz looking so content. “Yes, Luz?”

“It looks like it’s not going to be much longer before I can’t see my toes.”

Amity gasped. “You’re finally showing?!”

Luz nodded, shedding a few tears as she did so.

The overjoyed witch rushed forward to embrace Luz, planting an impassioned kiss on her lips.

Luz hummed with satisfaction, leaning into the kiss.

Pulling back, Amity looked at the tiny baby bump with stars in her eyes. “Hey, Sweetie, there you are.”

The witch’s expression of pure joy made the human’s heart melt. You already have Mama wrapped around your little finger, don’t you Junior?

At that moment Amity began cooing over Luz’s bump, her voice rapidly approaching an incomprehensible squeal.

… I may have made Amity wait just a bit too long to have kids.

After around ten minutes Amity had finished gushing, but Luz noticed that Amity seemed to have something on her mind.

“What are you thinking about?”

Her gaze still fixed on Luz’s bump, Amity’s hand trailed down Luz’s arm, grasping the once calloused fingers of her wife. “I was just thinking that… now that you’re showing, it might finally be time to inform-”

“NO.”

Amity’s eyebrows shot upwards before crashing down just as quickly. The witch had to resist the urge to glare at the obstinate human. “Luz, I understand wanting to protect them, but you are taking this too far.”

Brown eyes glared at their golden counterparts, daring them to repeat that.

“Luz, please, I want to let our friends know.”

“We don’t know who-”

“It wasn’t them.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I refuse to believe that one of our friends betrayed us!”

Luz scoffed.

Amity sighed. “Luz, it’s not like it would make much of a difference telling them. You’re not going to be able to conceal the pregnancy much longer.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already taken care of that.”

Amity raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I had a concealment stone made.”

Amity’s brow furrowed. “What? Do you intend to keep the baby a secret until they’re born?”

“If that’s what it takes.” Luz hissed.

“You’re being ridiculous right now, Luz.”

“How is keeping our baby safe ridiculous?!” Luz barked, her nostrils flared.

“Can we at least tell Edric?”

“You yourself said that he would blab to everyone!” Luz yelled.

“Oh, and I guess that it would be such a crime that he would be so happy for us?”

“He would be putting our baby in danger!”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to forgive me for wanting to tell the only family member we have left that we’re finally going to be mothers.”

“We are NO-”

“I told you to never take that tone with me again!”

The look on Amity’s face made Luz flinch. The witch was absolutely furious. Shame washing over her, Luz’s shoulders briefly slumped before rage steeled them, halting their descent. Luz wordlessly scowled at the Royal Consort, fury writ large across her expression.

As Amity glared back her legs turned to abomination goo and stretched, bringing the witch up to Luz’s height.

“I’m not talking about this anymore.” Luz growled, stampeding back towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

 

With a groan, Boscha Hollowleaf opened her eyes. Sighing, the Potions Coven Head peeled the silk sheets off her. The previous night had been extremely stressful. She’d searched her house for any monitoring devices, or cloaked agents, but she hadn’t found anything. Granted, she hadn’t been able to perform that thorough of a search. The triclops prided herself on her many skills, but searching for something without even appearing to be doing so wasn’t one of those skills.

Boscha rubbed her temples before pausing. Wait, isn’t this suspicious? No. No. Why would it be? Boscha sighed. At this rate I’ll die of a heart attack before anything else happens… oh, whatever. I might as well get on with the day. Boscha shuffled up into a sitting position, trying to make as few vibrations as possible.

“Hhnggh.” groaned the lump under the covers.

“Sorry, Skare-bear. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Well you did.” Skara yawned. “I was hoping to get a few more minutes of sleep in.”

“You could take the day off and rest some more if you want to.”

Skara chuckled. “It’s a bit early for me to take maternity leave.”

Boscha rolled her eyes and smiled. “A single day off does not constitute maternity leave.”

“Even so. The Bard Coven won’t run itself.”

Boscha snickered. “Yeah, can’t let anybody sell counterfeit harps.”

“I can boil your innards with a song. Don’t test me, Boschie.”

Boscha smirked. “That song is ten minutes long. I can be dressed and halfway to the office before you finish that spell.”

“I’m a faster flyer than you. I can keep you in casting ra-*YAWN*-nge.”

“For some reason I suspect that you won’t be able to finish the song.” Boscha teased.

Rather than parrying with a jab of her own, the Bard Coven Head decided to go for a more straightforward response and gave Boscha’s left temple a light flick, prompting boisterous laughter from the triclops. “You’re such a prick, Love.”

The triclops leaned over towards Skara, and delicately returned the bard’s gesture with a light kiss to Skara’s left temple. Her voice the pinnacle of smugness Boscha teased, “I’m your prick though.”

The silver-eyed bard hummed with satisfaction. “And don’t you forget it.”

Boscha grinned, and planted another kiss. For all her teasing, the pink-skinned witch adored Skara. How someone so considerate and empathetic fell for an asshole like her Boscha would never understand. An asshole who’s probably in deep shit. Boscha thought, grimacing.

Well, I better keep up my routine just in case they’re watching. The triclops thought, her heart speeding up as she did so. Turning around to face her edge of the bed she reached over to grab the prosthetic abomitech legs resting against her nightstand.

Boscha brought the top of her left prosthetic up to the metal cap on the bottom of her stump at a slight angle. Clenching her teeth Boscha screwed the device into place. A soft click and Boscha winced at the familiar sting of hundreds of microscopic tendrils of abomination goo reaching out, the viscous fluid binding to her nervous system.

A minute later Boscha had the right leg on too. Turning back around to her wife, Boscha, her tone genuine, asked, “Hey, Skare-bear, are you sure that you don’t-”

A quiet, nasally snore interrupted the triclops.

Boscha softly smiled, making a mental note to call the Bard Coven and let them know that Skara might be a bit late.

 

Deep underground, below the frigid surface of the knee, in one of the many veins crisscrossing through the frigid knee, stood a burly witch with a slightly unkempt beard gazing out at the various abomitech drills grinding away at the cavern walls, little more than a skeleton crew there to operate them.

The grizzled man let out a long sigh. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep going. Sure, the pay was good, really good in fact, but they weren’t accomplishing anything.

“SIR!”

The man turned around to find one of the miners sprinting towards him, a crow phone in his hands.

“Bill, what are you doin’ down here? Yer shift doesn’t start for another hour at least.”

“I know, Sir. Crow came for you.” The miner held out what appeared to be a brand-new crow phone. “It’s the Boss.”

The Foreman raised an eyebrow. To say this was unusual would be an understatement. Taking the crow phone from Bill, the grizzled man gestured in the direction Bill had come from. The young miner promptly rushed back to the heated barracks. The foreman meanwhile walked briskly back to his office, locking the door behind him. Sitting down in his stiff, frigid chair he automatically started turning his arm in a slow, steady rhythm, a light blue circle hanging in the air, kept alight with each rotation. To most, auditory illusions were more difficult than visual illusions, but they happened to be his forte, though he was by no means an expert. With his office now soundproofed the foreman finally raised the crow phone to his ear. “Boss, I still have the comm-pact. Why’d you send a crow?”

The harsh voice of Boscha Hollowleaf came through the line. “Above your pay grade. Report. Now.”

The foreman noticed that his boss seemed unusually stressed, but he ignored it. If she said it wasn’t his business, then who was he to argue otherwise? “Nothin’, like always.”

Boscha growled in frustration.

The foreman sighed. “Boss, I don’t know what you were expectin’. Titan blood was all mined up ages ago.”

“Then where is the extra magic on the Knee coming from, SMITH?” Boscha hissed.

“I dunno, but it ain’t Titan Blood.”

“IT HAS TO BE!” The Coven Head barked, panic leaking into her voice.

Smith raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by the change in inflection, before shaking his head. Not my problem. “Look, I recommend shuttin’ down this money pit.”

“You still need to find me some damn titan blood!” The Coven Head hissed under her breath. The foreman could practically hear the pounding of his boss’ heartbeat.

What in the world is goin’ on? Does the boss have a staff pointed at her head or what? Unsure of what to do, the foreman tensely waited for his boss to speak again. The grizzled man heard his boss audibly take a deep breath before muttering. “You will keep searching. That’s an order.”

“Boss, this whole operation’s a waste a time an’ money.”

“Money isn’t an issue.”

The foreman pinched the bridge of his nose. How can someone get so rich but be so bad with money? “Even so, we coulda been haulin’ out marrow, lymph tissue, an’ other useful stuff for the past five years if we’d been assigned anywhere else.”

“I don’t care. Now, what do you need to keep searching? More drills, sorting systems, abomatons? As of today, the operation has a blank check.”

“I’m tellin’ you, Boss, that’s not a good idea. Unless we hit the motherlode there’s no way you’ll earn back the snails that've already been sunk ‘ere.”

“For the last time, let me worry about the cost. What you need to worry about is FINDING ME SOME TITAN BLOOD.”

 

On the other end, in her office, Boscha placed the crow phone back on its receiver and resisted the urge to slump back in her chair out of exhaustion. She had already acted too suspicious during the call. I really hope they weren’t watching me just now!

At least she had realized that she should send a crow phone to Foreman Smith instead of using the comm-pact mirror she’d lent him. That would have looked terrible given that she wasn’t technically allowed to have one anymore, let alone a linked pair. It had been a long time since she’d worn the old crimson camo, after all.

Well, if they were watching her right now, then she should probably look like she’s doing her job? Yeah, yeah, that’s what she should do.

Pulling out some paperwork, some regulation proposals she needed to review, Boscha’s eyes scanned the document. However, even as her eyes flicked back and forth down the page, absolutely none of the information regarding ingredient safety oversight was registering in her brain. What if Smith is right? No, he can’t be! Where else could titan blood be?! Oh, Titan, wouldn’t it be rich if it was in rebel territory?!

Boscha sighed. If that was the case then she was definitely screwed. Maybe I should flee to another titan? Boscha felt a pang of guilt immediately upon thinking that. She’d probably have to leave Skara and the twins behind if it came to that. Nope. Out of the question.

The triclops’ eyes reached the bottom, and she turned the page.

Well, then I’m right back to needing some fucking titan blood. I AM NOT GETTING THROWN IN A CELL! Boscha gulped, a realization hitting her. The Coven Head had been assuming that if she was caught prior to finding titan blood then a cell was her future, but… what if Luz decided to make an example of her? Decided that life in prison was too lenient?

NO! NO! SHE WOULDN’T! LUZ WOULDN’T DO THAT!

…

…

Boscha muttered a quick prayer to the Titan. Just in case.

Chapter 17

Summary:

Once a war hero, Boscha Hollowleaf stands on the brink of losing everything.

Davies tried stifling a yawn as he read the report in his hands. It didn’t matter that he was running on 3 hours of sleep, yawning at this juncture would not be professional. Fortunately, Davies could focus on the sheer rage that was building inside him as he pored over the report.

The scale of corruption that was alleged in the report was astounding. If even half of it was true then Hollowleaf had embezzled more than some of the mob bosses that she had helped remove.

There were seven contracts currently awarded to Hollowleaf Solutions. Each had been expertly tailored by the head of the Potions Coven. On a surface level glance everything was above board, but looking deeper into it the specifications left only one firm that could possibly fill them. One such contract was for a weapon that Davies was very familiar with. Andrew couldn’t tell you how many good soldiers they’d lost due to the shoddy build of the Potion Popper Mk. II. Half the time, the casing had a crack in the sealant, exposing the innards to oxygen, corroding the hellgrain catalyst. Then when you finally threw the damn grenade all you’d get is a loud splat as the inert brick landed in the mud.

Davies tore his gaze away from the document, and took a deep breath, steadying his mind. He had a job to do and orders to follow. Getting angry at this stage would not be productive in accomplishing either.

Looking back at the document Davies felt it became increasingly difficult to restrain his anger. Hollowleaf had embezzled money from the Potions Coven budget, including the pension fund. She’d engaged in numerous hostile takeovers, corporate espionage, and money laundering. You name it, Hollowleaf had her hand in it.

Glancing up from the damning write up he looked at the Investigator standing ramrod straight, his hands clasped behind his back. “These charges are quite serious. Are you confident in your findings?”

“I have no reason at this moment to doubt them, Sir.”

“And you don’t think that she was the leaker?”

Inspector Marrow shook his head. “We haven’t found any evidence that that might be the case.”

Andrew nodded and turned back to the report. He tried dampening his outrage at the Potions Coven Head enough to think calmly. As he reread the report, the Special Investigator debated on whether he should hand the matter off to the Castletown PD and reassign the personnel investigating Hollowleaf to another suspect.

“Permission to arrest the suspect, Sir?”

Davies’ gaze flicked back up towards Marrow. The middle-aged man stood resolute, but with a fire in his eyes that Davies deeply approved of. “I want Hollowleaf behind bars within the hour.”

“YES, SIR!” Marrow bellowed, saluting.

As he watched Inspector Marrow march out of his office, Andrew Davies shook his head, and bitterly thought. To think I once respected her.

 

Deep within the knee, Foreman Smith let out a loud yawn though no one heard it. The new equipment took care of that.

For the past few days, ever since the Boss had sent the crow, dozens of drills and additional personnel were being sent to the knee. That had changed things.

While the operation had never been a quiet affair (it was a mine, after all) the new machinery had made the place miserable. The cave walls wailed in agony, loud chunks being torn off second by second. The noise was omnipresent, and the protective ear muffs they were wearing weren’t exactly helping. The malleus, incus, and stapes of his middle ear were all shaking under the cacophony, as was his skull.

Now if only he could figure out what that throbbing pain in his ear wa-

At that moment, the answer struck Smith. Tinnitus. It was tinnitus. Drowned out by the same cacophony that had caused it.

A sense of exhaustion washed over Smith and he hung his head. I don’t know if I can keep doin’ this job.

His view of the frosted cave floor beneath his feet was suddenly obscured, a gloved hand waving right in front of his eyes. Looking up, Smith saw that one of the miners had silently approached. The young woman’s eyes were blown wide open, and her chest practically vibrated, her lungs straining to pull in oxygen. This was the second person in less than a week that had sprinted the entire way to find him.

“What is it, Tammy?” Smith asked, before immediately wincing, realizing his stupidity. Shaking his head he quickly cast a spell, shimmering letters materializing in front of him. <WHY’D YOU SPRINT THE WHOLE WAY HERE?>

The exhausted miner replied with an illusion spell of her own.

…

It took a few seconds for the enormity of the response to sink in. Of course it did. Why wouldn’t it? After all, as he sprinted down the frigid tunnels at top speed he could still scarcely believe it. Five years he’d held the job. Half a decade of practically living down in a secret mine, with more than enough pay for his troubles, mainly to keep his mouth shut about the operation, he suspected. Smith didn’t tell the Boss that the hush money was unnecessary. Even if he’d been the kind of person to leak the operation, it’s not like he’d ever thought this place was worth blabbing about anyway. He couldn’t exactly sell another company the location to a rich vein of Nothing.

What the extra money had done was help him rationalize staying in a job that he should have left a long time ago. Sure, the money was good, but he’d basically fallen off the Titan for the past five years. Come to think of it, when was the last time I saw the folks?

Smith shook his head. That was it. After he’d made sure the Titan Blood was secure he was going to resign.

Deeper, deeper, he delved, booking it down the labyrinthine caves. Sprinting into the branch Tammy had been assigned to, Smith saw that every machine except the air filters was sitting idle, equipment dropped haphazardly. In the back of the cave over a dozen miners were huddled together, their focus fixated on the ground.

Dashing towards the crowd Smith shoved his way through. When the group parted, Smith froze. Right in front of him, in a divot no larger than a briefcase, was a small puddle of shimmering navy blue sludge.

Never, for even a single moment, had he ever considered that they’d find even a single drop.

 

In one of the many bathrooms of the Hollowleaf-Fairview manor, Skara spat out mouthwash into the sink, attempting to get the taste of morning sickness out of her mouth. Boscha soothingly rubbed her shoulder.

“I can’t wait for this to be over.” Skara groaned.

“At least it will all be worth it in the end.” Boscha offered.

The bard smiled. “I know, but that doesn’t exactly get rid of the taste of vomit in my mouth, now does it?”

Boscha chuckled. “No, I guess not.”

Skara, a warm smile on her face, grabbed Boscha’s hand and said, “Come on, it’s still early. Let’s get back to bed and see if we can get a couple more hours of sleep.”

The pink-skinned witch smiled back, and nodded, walking with the bard out of the bathroom.

Boscha and Skara turned the corner only to bump into three witches they had never met before.

Skara’s chest puffed up and her eyes filled with righteous fury. “You have five seconds to explain who you are and why you’re in my home before I call the police.”

One of the three stepped forward and, in a tone that was as professional as it was devoid of emotion, stated, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Coven Head. I am Inspector Marrow of Her Majesty’s Special Investigation. Unfortunately, I must ask you to step aside as I have orders to arrest your wife.”

Skara paused for a moment before bursting out in laughter, a response that neither the intruders nor Boscha, who had been quietly shuffling away, expected.

“Boscha, attempting to kill Luz! Now I’ve heard it all!” Skara wiped away the tears of laughter that had started to form. “With all the love in my heart, when it comes to Luz my wife is borderline obsequious. If you think that SHE leaked Luz’s location then you have to be the dumbest person I have ever heard of.”

Marrow, composing himself once more, and, his voice now significantly sterner, corrected, “You misunderstand me, Mrs. Fairview. Boscha Hollowleaf is under arrest for corruption, embezzlement, abuse of power, and a litany of other fraud related charges.”

Skara’s eyes bulged, “E- excuse me? What in the Titan’s name are you talking about?!”

Marrow’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly what I said, Ma’am. Now please step aside, or I will have to arrest you for obstruction of justice.”

Skara was baffled, looking between Marrow and his associates with complete confusion. Skara, confused, looked around the room for Boscha, finding her having shuffled towards the doorway.

The look of shame the triclops wore caused the bard’s stomach to plummet. “... Boschie?”

Boscha averted her gaze, wincing. Without warning the pink-skinned witch flexed both of her legs in just the right way, and a faint clicking emanated from the golden-colored prosthetics. Casting an apologetic look to her wife, Boscha belted out “MAYA, NOW!”

The wooden crab, which had been stealthily scuttling towards her partner during the tense confrontation, leaped up towards Boscha’s hand, a wooden staff materializing below her.

In one fluid motion Boscha grabbed onto the staff, swung herself up onto it, and shot away, her metal legs left behind. The metal plating and framework collapsed onto the floor with a loud clang, exposing the roiling goo. A strange glittering in the viscous sludge caught the attention of Investigator Marrow. The man’s eyes blew open. “TAKE COVE-”

BANG

The frothing fluid detonated. The violet liquid slammed into Skara, Marrow, and the others, knocking them to the floor.

Marrow tried to wrench himself out of his violet prison, only to find himself rapidly tiring, the sparkly sleeping sand doing its job. The investigator slightly raised his head before it fell back down with a quiet thunk, unconsciousness taking over.

 

Smith let out a sigh of relief as, for the first time in days, he could finally hear his own thoughts. With Titan Blood found he gave almost everyone the rest of the day off. Half of them were now up on the surface getting hammered off of a keg full of homemade hard apple blood using a still someone had hidden.

Normally he’d have castigated the idiot that thought combining alcohol and mining equipment was a good idea, but given the circumstances he let it slide. Hopefully booze and a party will keep them distracted.

Smith then pinched the bridge of his nose, a thought occurring to him that inebriation might make some of them MORE likely to try something stupid, like taking some souvenirs. “Calm down. Gerald and the rest can hold off a few drunks.” The Foreman then reached over and grabbed the crow phone on his desk before he had time to think about whether he really believed that.

Secretly Smith had given orders to a few of the miners he trusted the most to stay behind and guard the Titan Blood, just in case anyone got any ideas. The Boss wanted her Titan Blood, and she was getting her Titan Blood. That wasn’t to say that the thought of taking a drop or two for himself hadn’t occurred to him. Yeah, he’d feel guilty, but this was Titan Blood. If a few drops could punch holes through dimensions, then what could a couple pints do?

The daydreams of godlike power had quickly evaporated when he realized that he would probably, no, DEFINITELY, get offed in his sleep. As Smith began inputting Boscha’s number, he muttered. “If the Boss wants to tie a noose around her neck then so be it.”

As he punched in the Boss’ number, Smith distracted himself with the fact that he was at the finish line. Just one crow, the Boss gets her blood, and I am finally DONE with this place. The man let out a happy sigh at that thought. 

*Caw Caw*

He grumbled when the grating call set off his tinnitus.

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

“You’ve reached the crow of Boscha Hollowleaf. I can’t answer the phone right now, but-”

“Oh, fer cryin’ out loud!”

Smith’s grumblings became a bit louder and the chassis of the crow phone groaned as he angrily jammed in the Boss’ number again.

*Caw Caw*

First thing I’m doin’ after this is goin’ to a healer to fix the ringin’ in my ears.

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

*Caw Caw*

Come on. Come on…

“You’ve reached the crow of-”

“Seriously?! We actually find the damn stuff and she can’t even be bothered to pick up the phone!”

Several more minutes of attempting to get through to the Boss unsurprisingly failed to improve the foreman’s mood. Massaging his temples, the rumbled man considered whether he should try using the comm-pact. Yeah, no, that sounds like a great way to risk being stiffed out of my bonus. Then again, Smith thought, forcefully leaning back, the frigid wood creaking under the sudden motion, if she doesn’t want me usin’ the comm-pact anymore, she could at least answer the phone! The man cast a glance at the perched mechanical avian. “Might as well be an expensive paperweight for all the use I’m gettin' out of it."

“What time is it anyhow?” The Foreman muttered, a thought percolating through his frustration. He sometimes lost track of time working deep underground. Perhaps it was just late at night? Yeah, yeah, that had to be it. Checking his watch the Foreman felt his muscles tense. 8:47 AM. That can’t be right. The Boss is always in the office long before the official opening.

Smith took another quick glance at his watch and sighed. I’ll wait until normal workin’ hours to call again. She’s gotta pick up then. She has to.

 

It was just past 9:00 AM, and Boscha was very much not in the office, instead tearing away at top speed, weaving through the dense everred forest surrounding Castletown. The early morning light barely pierced through the thick canopy. The dappled light casted shadows adorned on mighty bark canvases.

Left. Right.

Inhale. Exhale.

Around the oak. Dodge the pine.

The wind blasted against Boscha’s face, dragging beads of sweat up her scalp, soaking her hair. Of course, that was the last thing on Boscha’s mind at the moment. Two hours. She had been riding for over two hours, and had only managed to lose her assailants a few minutes ago. Not that she was going to stop, though. The almost-certainly former coven head wanted to put as much distance between her and Luz’s goons as possible. This wasn’t helped by the fact that, to avoid detection from overhead, she was flying as low in the forest as she could. Unfortunately, this meant that Boscha had almost no visibility.

Have I seen that branch before? Oh, Titan, please don’t tell me that I’ve doubled back.

During the hours-long ordeal, the triclops’ initial fear and panic had morphed into righteous indignation. How could they do this to ME?! I’m a titan-damned war hero, and THIS is the thanks I get?! ASSHO-

Suddenly, Boscha was yanked off of her staff, and a searing pain ripped across her left arm.

Dangling a hundred meters above the gloomy forest floor Boscha clenched her teeth, trying to muscle through the inferno boring into her flesh. At least it gave her something to focus on that wasn’t the imminent risk of falling to her death.

Looking up Boscha came face to face with a nearly full-grown male chomping conifer. Half hanging out of its den, an expanded hollow carved into the side of the everred, it looked like a demented sea urchin with a writhing mass of lacerating vines instead of spines. The carnivorous plant constricted vine after vine around her arm, chittering in victory as the barbed thorns dug deep into her flesh.

A mix of adrenaline and fury dulled what would otherwise have undoubtedly been intense agony. “I don’t know what you’re doing this far north you overgrown pom pom,” Boscha snarled, “but thank you for volunteering to be my new stress ball. NOW HOLD STILL.”

Boscha lifted her legs and dug the golden ports on the end of her stumps into the side of the tree to stabilize herself. Swiftly spinning her right arm in a wide arc, a golden circle burst into existence. Instantly, the giant everred the chomping conifer called home began to creak and groan, xylem and phloem straining to resist her command. The confused, anxious hissing coming from her green captor was music to the triclops’ ears.

“You messed with the wrong witch, fucker!” Boscha laughed, a sadistic smile crossing her face.

With a loud crack, the cavity the floral predator had made its home in snapped shut, green viscera splattering everywhere.

Boscha cackled as she fell down onto a small shelf that she had commanded the tree to grow at the same time as she had forced it to take care of the chomping conifer. Her laughter was cut short as the adrenaline wore off just enough that the pain in her arm began to assert itself.

Grunting, Boscha used her one remaining good limb to push herself up into a sitting position. The witch reached for her purse to whip up a quick herbicidal potion only to grab at air. Boscha yanked her purse off her shoulder to find that the chomping conifer had torn half of it to shreds. Most of the contents were mostly likely scattered on the forest floor below. The only things remaining were her comm-pact, a few vials of rosemary, and a single axolotl gill. Boscha slammed her head back, whacking it against the tree.

Oh, great job. Now my life is ruined AND I might die of infection. PERFECT.

Boscha shook her head. “Well, moping isn’t going to solve anything. Besides,” Boscha added, feeling the pain on her left arm flare up, “bag or not, I better take care of this before more of the adrenaline wears off.”

Casting a small circle, Boscha summoned a tight flame just off the tip of her index finger. Most witches couldn’t control fire to such a precise degree, but fire spells were one of the pink-skinned potionist’s specialties. Proceeding to use the thin line of fire as a knife, Boscha very carefully cut off the vines still coiled around her arm.

A few minutes later, the triclops looked down at her left arm, now vine free, and grimaced. Gone was her pink skin, replaced by irritated reds and charred blacks. Long parallel gashes coiled and crisscrossed her arm. Evenly spaced divots gouged out by the chomping conifer’s barbed thorns punctuated each lash. Yeah, I definitely need to see a healer.

Boscha sighed resignedly. Sure, she could see a healer to get treatment, but wanted posters with her mug on it were probably being set up on every notice board from Sternhaven to the toes.

Boscha found a small level of comfort in the fact that Luz and the council had outlawed bounty hunting a couple years into her reign. At least these were just notices, telling people to keep an eye out and alert the authorities, not actual bounties. Of course, it was only a small comfort. Bounty or not, she could no longer show her face in any Imperial settlement, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to rebel territory. At best they’d capture her for use in a prisoner exchange. At worst they’d kill her themselves.

Oh Titan, I might have to leave the Boiling Isles. Boscha grimaced, immediately realizing there were a few barriers at the moment to her escaping the Isles. With no snails to charter a boat she’d either have to steal one, not exactly the behavior of someone trying to remain under the radar, or attempt to fly to the closest foreign Titan, a journey that would be a week’s long staff ride. Non-stop. While legless.

Might as well hurl myself into the Boiling Sea at that rate. Boscha thought, slumping against the side of the Everred.

As Boscha wracked her mind for any solution, Maya, still in staff form, flew on up, shocking the triclops out of her deep concentration.

“Took you long enough to get back here.” Boscha snapped, her nerves more than frayed after the morning she had had.

The palisman floated on over onto the magically summoned ledge, and transformed into her animate form, dropping onto the ledge as the staff beneath her vanished into the ether.

<Oh, I’m sorry!> Maya furiously exclaimed by rhythmically slamming her claws. <I couldn’t exactly dodge the cedar tree I was yanked in the direction of in the five nanoseconds available to me! However, the next time I get knocked out, I’ll be sure to wake up in a more timely manner!>

Boscha winced, both from guilt and the pain spiking in her left arm.

Twitching muscles drew Maya’s attention to her partner’s mangled arm. The palisman’s eyes blew open. Clambering up onto the triclops’ lap, the ligneous crustacean began angrily stomping and snapping her claws.

<Seriously?! Just one limb left?! You only had four to start with!>

“Hey, this is treatable! … I just need to find a healer. Besides, this isn’t my fault.” Boscha huffed indignantly.

<It absolutely is your fault!>

“How was I supposed to know that a chom-”

<THAT WOULDN’T HAVE MATTERED IF YOU HADN’T PUT YOURSELF IN THIS SITUATION IN THE FIRST PLACE!>

The potionist glowered at her partner. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Maya stared incredulously at the witch before shaking her head in disbelief. <Sometimes you can be the dumbest person I have ever met.>

For a second the triclops glared at the wooden crab, before losing her resolve, slumping further against the massive tree.

A tense, poignant silence fell over the pair.

Breaking the silence, Boscha announced, “It’s been a few minutes since we’ve seen them. Let’s get a move on. I don’t want them catching up.”

Suddenly, three jets of fire burst through the canopy. The acidic sap of the giant everreds provided the perfect fuel, and within seconds a great conflagration had erupted, spreading outwards to greedily consume everything in its path.

Boscha’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Grabbing Maya she immediately summoned her staff form. Scrambling onto her staff the triclops zipped away.

Hints of acrid smoke began to tease her lungs, harbingers of the predator racing after her. Her top speed was nothing to the encroaching flames, the crackling growing louder and louder.

If you think you can smoke me out you have another thing coming!

Leaning forward as far as she could, Boscha went into a nosedive, hurtling towards the ground. Where before Boscha had been restricted to the gloomy midstory, now the forest floor, with its tangled roots and bed of pine needles, was fully illuminated by the flames overhead.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!” Boscha began maniacally cackling, the stress finally breaking her. “You thought you could pull one over on ol’ Boscha, but you thought wrong!!!!”

As Boscha sped along, hugging the ground, dead trees creaked and groaned behind her. The fire, entering through cracks and hollows, was making short work of their rotten cores. Their healthy, living neighbors, while battered, stood strong and proud, their thick bark adapted for such scalding temperatures, able to endure both boiling rain and roaring flames. From them, thousands of embers drifted outwards. Most were carried upwards, the intense heat causing the air to rise. A few, however, escaped the thermals and began to drift down. Like snowflakes they lazily made their way to the ground, towards the endless blanket of kindling that had built up over years.

It took one cinder touching the thick mat of dry needles for the forest floor to erupt into flames. The even coating of pine needles, and the complete lack of moisture content, having been protected from the boiling rain by the dense canopy above, let the ground flames sprint where the canopy fire merely walked.

TITAN DAMN IT! THERE GOES THAT PLAN!

The witch yanked her staff to a nearly vertical position.

Returning to the midstory, Boscha found herself surrounded by thick, sweltering smoke, making both breathing and navigation impossible. Out of options though, Boscha pushed onwards. BETTER SCRAPED UP THAN DEAD!

Bursting though the canopy Boscha frantically looked around, her heart stopping upon seeing three staff-bound witches closing in on her. “AHHHHH!!!!!!!”

The triclops’ grip on her staff spiked, her knuckles turning white. Fight or flight mode activated, Boscha chose flight. Climbing higher and higher, the witch's brain had given up on thinking of ideas on how she was going to get out her current predicament. Faced with the conundrum of a pelagic fish, Boscha was visible from every direction and had nowhere to hide from the sharks gaining on her.

*Ring Ring*

Her mind in no state to be interrupted, the vibration in her pocket nearly caused the witch to fall off.

*Ring Ring*

Keeping one hand firmly clenched on the staff, pushing it upwards, Boscha frantically fumbled around for her pocket, pulling out her comm-pact communicator.

Flicking it open Boscha screamed at the top of her lungs, “WHAT?!”

“BOSS, I CAN BARELY HEAR YOU OVER THE WIND! WHY HAVEN’T YOU BEEN PICKIN' UP THE PHONE?!”

“I’VE BEEN BUSY!!!!!”

“TOO BUSY FOR TITAN BLOOD?!”

The triclops’ adrenaline-flooded brain screeched to a halt when it finally processed Foreman Smith’s words. “YOU FOUND TITAN BLOOD?!”

“YEAH, I CAN BARELY BELIEVE IT MYSELF, BUT-”

Jamming the comm-pact into her face, the triclops hissed the only words that she knew could save her. “Listen to me, Smith, and listen good. Here is what I need you to do...”

Notes:

I apologize for taking so long to update this story. I wish it hadn't taken four months to post another chapter, but I haven't had much time or energy to write since entering graduate school. With the semester now over, I plan to return in force to writing The First of a Dynasty, so I will hopefully not take as long to post chapter 18.

Chapter 18

Summary:

A captured Boscha is left with no other options.

- 21 Years Before the Present -

Amidst the stench of herbs and stewing cauldrons, a little under two dozen students were diligently working on their first potions practical of the semester.

Boscha looked over her cauldron to the brown-haired pest standing in front of her, measuring out the correct amount of hellgrain powder. Boscha held back a sneer. She shouldn’t have had to, but somehow the intruder had wormed her way into the hearts of Hexside. She’d even taken Amity away from her. Amity!

What was worse was how the human had made a mockery of proper magic, and was parading around like she wasn’t the fraud she truly was. How she had managed to climb to the second-place spot in the class, behind only Boscha herself, the triclops had no idea. Luck probably. Yeah, that had to be it. That meant that it was only a matter of time before the human messed up.

The problem was that Boscha had no idea how long that would take. The human’s… luck - yeah, luck - seemed to be unending. Might as well speed things up. Boscha thought, smirking.

Maybe even Skara will finally see how pathetic Luz is. Boscha mused. As she readied her hand to cast a spell, she indulged in that thought only to pause, her hand stilled. Picturing Skara teasing Luz felt… off. Why? That made no sense. Skara was the best bard track student in Hexside, it was her RIGHT to demonstrate that.

…

Right?

Boscha shook her head. Of course she was right. She was the best potionist in Hexside, and now it was time to demonstrate that.

Taking in a deep breath Boscha centered herself. Today she was going to set things right, was going to put the human back in her place, was going to show Amity that they were better than magicless scum.

Looking back over her pot, Boscha saw that the human was adding the hellgrain. As Boscha reached down to grab some ratworm liver slices she flicked her index finger in a tight rotation, casting a spell circle barely a centimeter wide. No spark formed, no ember shot forward, instead, unnoticed, the fire underneath Luz’s cauldron began burning 10 degrees higher. Boscha resisted the urge to laugh as she picked up her liver slices and stirred them into the cauldron.

A few minutes passed and it took every ounce of self-control Boscha possessed not to burst into tears of joy. The human’s confusion was palpable, unable to figure out why her potion was turning a greenish-purple. Her head was swinging back and forth between checking her cauldron and her measuring cup.

“... did I add too much?” muttered the human.

As Boscha continued to work on her own potion she watched Luz grab the thermomodemon laying on her desk and squeeze it. The creature squeaked and shot out its long tongue. The appendage was stark white with black lines and numbers tattooed along its length. When the human dipped the end in the cauldron a deep red coloration grew upwards along the demon’s tongue.

The human spent the next five minutes cooling the cauldron and recalibrating the flame under her cauldron, slapping card after card of her fake-magic against the desk. 

After finally being satisfied that the temperature was stable, the human let out a sigh of relief and placed the thermomodemon aside.

Reaching for the next ingredient, Boscha discreetly cast another fire spell.

Another few minutes passed, and Boscha nearly snorted when she heard the human let out an anxious “huh?” Looking up she saw the human once again holding the thermomodemon, slapping more of those dumb ice conjuring cards down on the desk.

After cooling the potion, the human held her gaze on the temperature reading for a full minute before finally setting down again.

Boscha gave another quick flick of her finger, commanding the fire to heat right back up.

 

As class progressed, the temperature fluctuations rapidly degraded the human’s potion, its color turning sickly. A thick froth was building up.

“No! Please!” cried the human, her voice cracking. A few students flinched, startled by the sudden outburst. Half of the class swiveled their heads towards the source of the noise, their eyes settling on a frantic Luz, nascent tears pooling in her eyes.

It was a beautiful sound and Boscha bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Not so big now, are you, human? Now everyone sees how pathetic you really are.

“Ms. Noceda, is something the matter?” asked Mr. Bennett, the teacher.

The human’s head shot up. Her voice on the verge of breaking, she responded, “YU- YUP! Everything is a-ok!”

Mr. Bennett raised an eyebrow, staring intently at the flustered student.

Before the teacher could say anything else the human returned her focus to her potion. The sight of the human frantically chucking ingredient after ingredient into the roiling, frothing cauldron, in a desperate attempt to balance the recipe, made the triclops’ heart sing. Soon, all would be right with the world.

Looking down at her own cauldron, the witch smirked at her potion, her naturally perfect potion. 

“Sir, I’m finished” The pink-skinned potionist said, raising her hand.

Looking at her, Mr. Bennett chuckled. “Finished quickly again, I see.” 

Boscha puffed up with pride.

Walking over to her desk, the teacher peered into Boscha’s cauldron, examining it. The instructor let out a cautious hum, before pulling out a limp, barely conscious dragon hatchling, and dropped it into the pot. Boscha always thought that dragons looked odd compared to their hand drake cousins. Maybe they’re actually from the human realm. Boscha mused. She’d overheard descriptions of the bizarre, yet oddly harmless, beasts that populated that miserable dimension. Frankly, she doubted most of what she had heard. It just didn’t make sense for so many creatures to lack venom, or for most plants to just… sit there. Not eating things.

Snapping out of her reverie, Boscha realized that nothing was happening, and briefly worried, only to let out a sigh of relief when loud, enthusiastic gulping sounds began issuing from the pot.

Within seconds, a much larger, lively dragon came into view, lapping up the last drops of potion. Looking back up the juvenile dragon, which had mere moments ago been on death’s door, and the size of her hand, now could barely fit in the cauldron.

“Well done, Ms. Hollowleaf.” Mr. Bennett said, displaying a beaming smile.

Smiling herself, Boscha affected a saccharine tone and asked “If it’s okay, could I go to the grudgby court and practice for the rest of class?”

The teacher’s smile grew tenfold. The scaled man was a massive grudgby fan. “Absolutely! We can’t have St. Epidermis taking the cup this year, now can we?”

“Thank you, sir.” Boscha said, smirking. As she walked past the human’s desk that very moment the cauldron emitted a deep, rumbling, burble, causing the human to loudly yelp, jumping back in surprise.

As Boscha made her way toward the door, Mr. Bennett, his voice one of genuine concern, asked “Ms. Noceda, are you sure you’re alright?”

Before Luz could answer Boscha hid her hands in her pockets and cast one last fire spell. 

5…

The potion in Luz’s cauldron immediately went into overdrive, roiling and churning over and over, the entire cauldron rocking back and forth, threatening to tip over.

“Dear, Titan, what did you do?!” Mr. Bennett asked, alarmed. 

Pushed to her limit, the human burst into tears. “I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! IT- IT JUST- I- THE-”

Boscha smirked as the human’s frantic attempts to explain what happened devolved into incoherent sobbing, and continued counting down. 

4…

“Titan’s breath, what did you do?!” The teacher asked again.

“I DON’T KNOW!!!!!” weeped the soon-to-be disgraced fraud.

3…  

The victorious triclops grabbed the door handle, and quickly left.

Closing the door behind her did nothing to muffle the rumbling cauldron.

2…  

Speed walking away, the witch began to laugh. Showtime.

A massive explosion sound rocked the school. Students stampeded out of the classroom, a noxious, foul-smelling cloud following them, billowing out into the hallway.

Cackling, Boscha made her way to the grudgby court.

 

Waltzing into the cafeteria, Boscha couldn’t help but exhibit a cheek-splitting grin. Yesterday had been extremely productive. She’d finished her test a whole hour early, her muscles were still soothingly sore from grudgby practice, and that pest had finally been put back in her place.

The triclops scanned the cafeteria, looking around for Skara, Amity, and Cat, only to prove unsuccessful.

Hm, they must not be here yet…  Wait? Is that? OH, THIS IS GLORIOUS! Two tables over was the greatest thing Boscha had laid eyes on in a long while.

The human was on the verge of sobbing, her two loser friends attempting to comfort her. Boscha quickly got her food and, discreetly sat down a few seats away, just close enough to overhear their conversation.

“Why did I ever think I could do this?” The human said. “I always screw everything up.”

“Luz, you just made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not everyone.” Luz croaked, wiping the nascent tears from her puffy eyes with her multicolored sleeves.

“I can promise you that they do.” Willow soothed.

“Amity doesn’t.” Luz mumbled.

Willow gave her friend a sad smile. Luz had a big heart, but didn’t always think things through before speaking.  “Luz, you know that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.” Luz firmly refuted, before trailing off and quietly adding, “... Amity’s perfect.”

“Oh, really?” Willow chuckled, “then I guess that incident with my memories being incinerated must have been a weird dream.”

Luz winced, and averted her gaze.

“See, it’s just like Willow said. Everyone messes up from time to time.” Gus interjected, “Mark my words, a week from now nobody will be talking about this.”

“... As long as I don’t blow up another classroom.” Luz responded.

“Luz-”

“Thi- This is just like back home.” Luz choked out. “Why did I ever think I could do this? I always screw everything up.”

Willow and Gus exchanged worried glances. Luz rarely got this glum, and they were starting to get concerned.

“It’s just-” Luz started stammering, her tears barely being kept at bay, “I- I don’t- I don’t understand what went wrong.”

“Lu-” Willow and Gus began, before immediately getting cut off.

The increasingly emotional human, lost in her own neuroses, didn’t hear her friends’ attempted well-wishes, muttering under her breath, “I’m positive that I measured out the right amount of hellgrain, bu- but- but then why did it keep heating up?”

Not being potion-track students and thus unable to speculate as to why, Willow and Gus focused on merely comforting Luz, who was becoming more and more insensate and withdrawn. Boscha did nothing to wipe the ear-to-ear grin that had split her face in two. Victorious, the triclops turned her focus to her lunch, confident the world made sense again. As she bit down on her sandwich she noticed Amity approaching.

What did I tell you, Amity? She’s nothing like us. The grudgby captain thought, grinning. The pink-skinned witch began raising her hand to flag Amity down. Maybe they could brainstorm Grudgby tactics, just like old times. Her hand stopped halfway though as she noticed where Amity’s gaze was fixed.

NO…  Boscha thought with mounting horror, as Amity, instead of continuing on to sit next to her, primly sat down next to the human, before immediately holding hands with it, fingers gently interlaced.

WHAT?! Boscha thought, dumbfounded. What is wrong with you?! What will it take to make you realize that you’re BETTER than this- this INTERLOPER?!

“Hey, I heard that something happened during your exam? Are you alright, Batata?” Amity softly inquired.

Luz averted her gaze. “I’m fine.”

Amity squeezed Luz’s hand, her golden eyes doing and brimming with care. “Are you sure, Mi Amor?”

Boscha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Amity was trying to cheer that thing up?! Willow, she expected. It didn’t matter how good at plant magic she turned out to be, Willow would always be half-a-witch. Fitting company for a magicless human. But AMITY?! AMITY still wanted to be friends with it?! WHY?!!!

As Boscha struggled to find out why Amity wouldn’t see sense, another of Boscha and Luz’s classmates, an arachnid-headed biped demon, ran up to the human. Luz, seeing one of her potion-track classmates approaching, tried to make herself as small as possible.

Screeching to a halt beside Luz, the eight-eyed potionist excitedly chittered, “Titan, Luz, thank you so much!”

Luz, confused, perked up slightly. “Huh? Why?”

“For the explosion! Duh!” The demon cheerfully responded. “I totally blanked on what reagents it needed! There was no way I was passing. Thanks to you though I was able to cram last night for the retake. I owe you one!”

Luz briefly cracked a small smile, before slumping further. Letting out a single glum huff of a laugh. “No problem. Least I’ll still have one person to talk to during class.”

Nora tilted her head in confusion. “Huh? Why would the others not talk to you?”

“Uh, maybe because the classroom needs to be fumigated and it’s my fault?”

“Okay? And?”

“And? What do you mean ‘and?’ My social life is over.”

“Huh? How do you figure that?” Nora asked.

Luz blinked, taken aback by the demon’s genuine confusion. “I destroyed half a classroom!”

“Man, school must be really boring back in your dimension.” Nora giggled. “Luz, after a week something else will have happened and nobody will be talking about this. Besides, everybody loves you. You’re one of the most popular kids in school!”

Luz’s eyes blew open, and she stumbled back a bit, clearly unused to hearing anything even approximating Nora’s claim. “Wait… really? But I’m… I’m just… well… me .”

“Yes, really!” Nora happily exclaimed. “Hexside wouldn’t be the same without you!”

“Thank you.” Luz responded, grateful tears forming in her eyes.

“No problem!” Nora beamed. “Anyway, I’m gonna go grab some nutrient packs and head to the library. You might have saved my pedipalps with the Potions practical, but I do not feel confident about our spirit summoning test.”

As she watched Nora sprint away to grab some food, Luz felt a weight come off her shoulders. Turning back to her friends, a small, tender smile slowly returned to her cheeks.

Leaning in, Amity gave a light, chaste kiss to Luz’s cheek. “See, Batata? Everything is going to be okay.”

Luz, her mood improved, flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry, guys. I guess I was worried for nothing.”

Willow, Gus, and Amity immediately reassured Luz that she had nothing to apologize for. The conversation soon turned to happier matters, and the four of them chatted happily during the remainder of the lunch period, all the while Boscha quietly seethed in anger.

                                                     

- 15 Years Before the Present -

Alone in Latissa, in a cramped, moldy apartment, barely 8 by 10 meters, lived a certain triclops.

“Of course even the apple blood is gone.” Boscha muttered, the bare inside of her fridge taunting her, her stomach joining in, letting out a loud growl.

Doubling over in hunger, the pink-skinned witch’s anger spiked and she slammed the fridge closed, the device rattling concerningly.

Well, that’s just perfect! Hopefully she hadn’t just broken the fridge. There were already enough things that she couldn’t afford to fix.

Muttering under her breath, Boscha turned to the drawer next to the fridge. The lead paint on the brand new drawer was peeling. The thing had only just been made and was already falling apart. Like everything else in this dump.

Boscha opened the drawer with significantly less force than she had used to close the fridge, and yet even so, the clinking of glass vials sounded out.

Noticing that some flecks of paint were stuck to her hand, Boscha reached over to the kitchen sink, turning the handle.

*Drip*

*Drip*

*Drip*

At this point Boscha wasn’t even surprised. Of course the faucet was broken. Why wouldn’t it be?

Time for plan B. Boscha thought, placing the contaminated hand in the sink. Drawing a spell circle with the other, Boscha summoned a jet of hot water, drenching her hand, and splattering liquid everywhere.

“Okay, that was a mistake,” The potionist said, dispelling the torrent.

Toweling off her hands and face, the witch turned back to the drawer, and frowned. Only a few of the vials were corked, the remainder of the vials loose and empty. I just made a batch a month ago. How have I almost run out?

Interrupting the witch, her stomach growled once more, with a greater fury than she had felt in weeks. Pulling out one of the vials with a frown, the witch hoped that Jackson wouldn’t gouge her when she went to buy more salted blood.

Looking at the contents, Boscha frowned. The potion was a dull lime color, and a layer of dark brown powder had settled at the bottom. A vigorous shake and a spell to up the potency fixed that, the color turning a bright, uniform, verdant green.

Well, bottoms up. The witch thought, popping off the cork just as her stomach twisted yet again. Downing the concoction, Boscha visibly relaxed as the hunger pangs wracking her were suppressed.

Walking out of the tiny kitchenette, Boscha two two steps and flopped onto her bed, intent on watching whatever garbage passed for CB in Latissa.

Before she could turn on the crystal ball, however, there was a knock at the door.

Boscha’s breath hitched. Maybe they got the wrong door?

A couple seconds passed before whoever was there knocked again.

Taking in a deep breath, Boscha silently uttered a quick prayer, before slowly creeping towards the door. Attempting to sound as confident as possible, she called out, “Who’s there?”

In the few seconds before the visitor responded, Boscha’s mind raced. She hadn’t told anyone that she was hiding in Latissa, so who would be knocking on her door after dark?

It can’t be Ponta. Right?

Reaching into her pocket, Boscha’s fingers coiled around a vial of acid potion.

Yeah. Yeah. I’ve already paid up this month.

The triclops froze. Oh, Titan, what if Bones found me?!

No! No! The witch shook her head. This is Ponta’s turf! Bones wouldn’t come all the way up here, would he?

The witch gulped. Yeah, that was a stupid question.

Please don’t be Bones. Please don’t be Bones. At least just be one of his goons. Plea-

“It’s me, Boscha.”

All of the color and life drained out the triclops, who now desperately wished the voice she had just heard HAD been Bones’. No, apparently the Titan wanted to play a sick joke on her by having the one person more dangerous than the Lumbarnan Don outside her door.

Boscha hadn’t always been afraid of the human. That changed with the death of the Collector though. Granted, the triclops had been thrilled that the sadistic kid was finally gone. Of course, she was. Why wouldn’t she be? That bastard had turned the Isles into his own personal plaything for a year. The left half of the skull? Turned into a floating crown. The clavicle mangroves? Turned into giant, glowing mushrooms. The town of Palm Stings? Lost to a game of ‘the floor is lava.’

And she had bullied the person who managed to kill him.

“Hello? Boscha?”

As she felt her heartbeat quicken, Boscha chided herself for not spending more time searching for a time pool. Maybe she could have warned her idiotic younger self to LEAVE THE HUMAN ALONE. Maybe if she had done that she wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that Luz was RIGHT OUTSIDE HER DOOR.

Maybe I could pretend I’m not home? Wait, no, I already asked who’s there. IDIOT!

The triclops’ wracked her mind for any excuse to refuse the human entry, only to come up blank.

“Boscha, are you okay?”

Opening the door, Boscha plastered a smile on her face, only to have her stomach plummet upon seeing the stern expression on Luz’s face.

It took every ounce of energy the witch had to keep from hyperventilating as she greeted the apex predator standing before her. “Ah, Luz. To… to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Luz’s jaw clenched, spiking the triclops’ blood pressure. A roiling maelstrom of emotions filled the human’s eyes, and her gaze fell to the side. “That will require a bit of explaining.”

Boscha, frozen in fear, waited for Luz to continue.

Looking back at the triclops, Luz, her voice slightly fragile, asked, “May I come in?”

The witch gulped, before cautiously, diffidently, nodding, and stepping back.

As the lanky human walked in, Boscha panicked, desperately trying to think of how to appease Luz. The potionist desperately tried to think back to what her mother did, back when she hosted the well-to-do of Bonesborough, and, reaching on the first thing that came to mind, blurted out “Would you like something to eat?”

Luz stepped back, startled, before collecting herself. “Uh, sure. Like what?”

“Uhhhhhh…” You moron! How can you serve up a plate of NOTHING?! You brain-dead cretin!

After a few seconds, Luz, now slightly worried, asked, “Boscha? Are… are you okay?”

“YUP!” squeaked the triclops. “FIT AS A FIDDLE!”

“Really? ‘Cause you look very pale.”

“WHAT?! NO! PALE?! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”

What little color remained in Boscha’s complexion drained away, her skin turning a sickly, barely pink hue. Her fears were only exacerbated as Luz’s concern visibly grew.

“Forget me. You look like you need food in your system NOW.” Luz declared, heading to Boscha’s fridge, walking right past the petrified triclops.

Luz opened the fridge only to be met with empty shelves and confusion. “Boscha, there isn’t even so much as a yogurt in here.”

“RIGHT! SORRY! I- uh- I FORGOT TO GET GROCERIES.”

“Then why did you offer me food?” Luz asked, still stunned by the complete lack of inventory.

“Oh- um- right. Well-” Great job lying to LUZ!

Turning around, the glyph-user looked at the triclops, really looked at her. Doing so made it apparent just how much the potionist had changed since they were kids. Gone was the triclops’ toned, muscular physique, replaced with half-sunken cheeks and pallid skin.

“Um- Well- I- You see- I meant to-”

“Boscha…” Luz tentatively began, “when was the last time you ate?”

The witch remained frozen. Fear pinning her in place.

For a few seconds Luz watched Boscha’s rigid posture, listened to her nervous stammering. The glyph-user’s expression grew somber, a sympathetic frown crossing her face. Reaching into one of the many pockets of her brown cargo pants, Luz pulled out a leather pouch, and tossed it to the triclops. “It isn’t much, but it should get you through the next few days.”

Opening the pouch Boscha’s eyes became misty. Inside the leather bundle were dozens of snails. Luz’s generosity muffled the fear Boscha had been feeling, relief and gratitude overwhelming it. The witch looked back up at the human, who clawed at the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Sorry it isn’t more. I try not to keep too much cash on my person these days.”

Boscha shook her head, “No, don’t apologize. This… this is…” Boscha stammered, trying to find the right words. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Luz said, waving her hand dismissively. “If you’re short on snails though, I recommend buying seeds and using growth spells. Sure it’s not as nutritious, but it’s better than literally nothing.”

Bocha wilted slightly in embarrassment. “I tried that. Turns out I suck at plant magic.”

“Well, if you join us, I’m sure Willow would be willing to teach you a few tricks.”

“Yeah, as if she would teach me any…” Boscha started, before trailing off as she processed the entirety of Luz’s statement. “Wait. Join? Join what?”

Luz sighed, “Before I answer that, can I ask you something?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Why are you alone? Starving in this closet? Last I heard you were running a shop down in Lumbarna.”

Boscha paused, confused as to where this was going. “I… uh… I needed to lay low for a while.”

“Let me guess? Your ‘fees’ got jacked up and when you couldn’t pay they burned your shop to the ground.”

The triclops blinked. “How did you…”

Luz’s gaze hardened. “Because it’s happening all over the Isles! And not just that. Bandits have extorted most intercity trade out of existence. Would-be-Emperors raze town after town for not submitting to their rule, and mob bosses squeeze every last snail they can out of people’s pockets. Well, I’m sick of it. I’m sick of my home being torn to shreds. I’m sick of the strong preying on the weak. I’m sick of losing my family!”

Surprising herself, Boscha, without thinking, asked, “What happened?”

The lanky human looked away, falling silent.

WHY WOULD YOU ASK THAT, YOU COLOSSAL IDIOT?! The witch gulped, praying that she hadn’t just dug her own grave.

“We- we were ambushed outside Lumbarna. I was giving my Mom a tour of the Isles, and…  and… ” The human trailed off, a thousand-yard stare in her eyes.

Boscha’s heart broke. “I- I lost my Mom too. When… when the shop came down.”

Two watery brown eyes met three, similarly misty, grayish-blue eyes. “And how would you like to stop anyone else from going through what we have?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m building an army. We’re going to take the Isles back from the thugs that are trying to tear it apart.”

Boscha blinked. And blinked again. “That’s insane.”

“And letting things continue wouldn’t be?”

“No, but I still prefer probably being killed over definitely being killed, which is absolutely what will happen if I start playing soldier.”

Luz shook her head. “Boscha, be honest. What are the odds that you’d make it another five years before Bones found you or you starved to death?”

The latina’s words cut deep. A part of the witch wanted to boast, stand up and loudly claim that she could handle anything, that this was just a temporary setback. Sure, she lived in a molding apartment on the risk of collapse. Sure, she was being hunted down by mobsters. And sure , she could count her ribs when she looked in the mirror. But those were just details. Soon, Boscha Hollowleaf would be back on top.

Titan, I’m pathetic.

“Why… why me? Specifically?” Boscha asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I’m going to need a lot of potions, and you’re one of the best potion brewers I know.”

Boscha’s eyes bulged. “Really?”

“Honestly, I’d say it’s a toss up between you and Eda.” Luz replied.

Boscha blinked. That Luz thought highly of her was surprising. The triclops briefly considered the possibility that Luz was lying, but only briefly. Boscha doubted that Luz was willing to butter someone up to get what she wanted. If one could say anything about the glyph-user, it was that she wore her heart on her sleeve.

…

Well. If I’m going to die young, I might as well take Bones down with me. Taking in a deep breath, Boscha looked Luz in the eye and said “I’m in.”

                                                     

- Present Day -

“Ugghhhh" Luz groaned, waking up.

Unwilling to open her eyes just yet, Luz opted to reach over to her nightstand and blindly feel around for her scroll. Grabbing the device, muscle memory kicked in and Luz habitually inputted her rune code. Few people used rune codes to lock their scroll, not feeling the need to do so when they could always just dispel it.

Grabbing onto the invisible bulk Luz sluggishly brought the device back. Holding the scroll several inches above her face, Luz, unwilling to exert any more energy than she absolutely had to at that exact moment, released the scroll, which dutifully hovered in place, and let her arm flop back down.

Titan, I’m exhausted. Luz thought, grumbling. She was getting a sinking feeling that she was not going to be happy when she saw the time.

For the past several weeks Luz had been subject to an exciting habit of waking up in a cold sweat at o-dark-thirty, the last images of whatever traumatizing memory her mind had selected viscerally clear, only to immediately need to head to the bathroom because Junior was adamant that Luz’s stomach was ruining the feng shui and needed to go. However, this was the second morning in months that Luz had neither had a nightmare nor morning sickness.

Please don’t tell me my body got into a fucking habit.

Sluggishly lifting her arm, Luz poked her midriff. “Kid, if I see any time earlier than 4:00 when I open my eyes you’re grounded.”

Cracking one eye open, Luz flicked her gaze to the top-right corner of her scroll and nearly had a heart attack.

7:17 AM.

Before getting pregnant she woke up at 7 on the dot. Bolting upright, Luz thanked her stars for the anti-collision feature of scrolls, the floating device zipping out of the now very much awake human.

“AMITY, GET UP! WE SLEPT IN!” Luz screeched, tearing the sheets off of her, and stumbling out of bed.

Running across the bedroom Luz slammed the closet open, and frantically grabbed a clean set of clothes.

Dressing as fast as she could, Luz’s mind had kicked into high-gear. NO TIME TO BRUSH MY HAIR! OH, TITAN, I’VE MISSED SO MUCH WORK!

Squeezing into her black leggings, Luz felt a nudge against her leg, accompanied by a familiar, though oddly muffled, chirp.

“Maeve, oh thank Titan, I need you to head to my office, and check to see if Governor Kalisera has called. I have a crystal ball meeting in a few minutes and-”

Ignoring her partner’s request, the palisman instead gave Luz’s shin another headbutt.

“Seriously, I really need you to-”

The otter let out an annoyed bark.

“TITAN, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!” Luz responded in kind, looking down at her feet. Looking back up at her was an unamused mustelid, a note held in her mouth.

“Huh?” Luz uttered, bending down to grab the paper. It was a note from Amity, complete with the witch’s characteristic elegant, swooping cursive. Reading it, the Empress’ blood began to boil.

Batata,

I was surprised to see that you were still asleep, but couldn’t bring myself to wake you as you were sleeping so soundly.

I hope you get some much-needed rest.

Love,

Amity

Luz’s expression contorted into one of pure fury. “How DARE she?!!!” growled the Empress, crumbling the note and tossing it behind her. “I have a country to run,” Luz muttered, pulling down one of her golden-edged cloaks. “I don’t have time to waste on this nonsense.”

A high-pitched bark sent Luz’s cortisol skyrocketing to levels she hadn’t experienced for quite a while.

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you,” Luz hissed, “because I could swear that I just heard you say that you AGREE with her?”

Maeve nodded.

Luz glared at her partner, who returned the favor, unperturbed by the human’s anger.

<Go back to bed.> The otter trilled. <You’re running yourself ragged.>

Luz’s eyes blew open, before narrowing just as quickly. She stood there, her gaze one of silent fury.

<You need sleep.>

Instead of responding, the Empress wordlessly knelt down. Looking at her partner, the palisman felt sick. The human’s face had contorted into a wild sneer, something the wooden mustelid had never seen Luz direct towards her before. “I told you to head to my office. Now move.”

Maeve stood in shock for a few seconds, her mind struggling to process what just happened.

Turning on her heels Maeve made a beeline for the door. Jumping up to get the handle, the door opened just enough for the palisman to drop down and slip out.

Hooking her tail underneath the door, Maeve pulled it shut, leaving Luz alone in her bedroom.

Luz glowered at the door for a few seconds before turning back to her closet and hurriedly finished getting dressed.

Less than thirty seconds later Luz slipped on her cloak and stomped over to the door, tearing it open. The door slammed into the wall with a loud crash, startling the pair of guards stationed outside her bedroom.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” asked one of the guards, his tone one of concern.

Ignoring the question, Luz, adopting an imperious voice, commanded, “Going forward, if I have not awoken and left this room by 7:05 you are hereby ordered to wake me up.”

“Are you sure, Your Majesty?” The second guard asked. “Her Highness requested that we remain quiet. Said you needed the extra sleep.”

“And I am ordering you to wake me up. Are we clear?” Luz growled, her left eye twitching.

“Crystal, Your Majesty!”

“Yes, Empress!”

“Good.” Luz concluded, marching off to her office.

 

Closing the office door behind her, Luz, holding her morning docket, let out an annoyed sigh.

Noticing Maeve sitting down on her desk, Luz unconsciously clenched her teeth. “So, did Governor Kalisera call?”

Maeve gave Luz a stern, defiant expression, making the Empress’ hackles raise, before tapping a paw on the crystal ball. Immediately hopping down, Maeve sprinted out of Luz’s office while a crystal ball message from the governor began playing.

Luz rolled her eyes. If Maeve wants to act childish then that’s her decision. It’s not like I need her to do paperwork.

Turning her attention to Governor Kalisera’s message, or rather, the message his secretary left, caused Luz’s blood to boil.

“... wishes to extend his apologies. Governor Kalisera Webbs had an urgent matter to attend to that unfortunately could not be postponed. He will call you as soon as possible to provide further details.” The secretary’s voice sounded oddly tense, and high-strung, a fact that Luz did not pick up on, blinded by her indignation at the Governor’s tardiness.

A deep, guttural growl filled the office. Today sure is shaping up to be just absolutely fantastic. Can no one do their job properly?!

Running her fingers over the gold trim of her cloak, Luz sighed. Whatever. I guess I can knock out some paperwork before then.

Walking over to her desk, Luz placed her morning docket down and settled into her chair. As she opened the folder her stomach growled. Loudly.

A faint blush crossed her cheeks, and Luz was grateful that nobody else had heard that.

For a moment Luz considered heading down to the dining room, only to just as quickly dismiss the idea. She had more important matters to attend to than breakfast.

Immediately, Luz’s mind brought up a memory of Healer Ramus telling her that she needs to eat regularly to support the baby’s development.

Curling in on herself ever so slightly, a wave of shame washed over Luz. Had she really just thought of paperwork as more important than taking care of her baby? What was wrong with her?

Then again, if she didn’t fix the Isles before the baby came, wouldn’t she have failed them just the same?

A thought occurred to Luz that made her feel sick. Grabbing the trash can sitting next to her, Luz tried to focus on the stench of bile filling her nostrils, on the burning sensation traveling up her throat, on the sound of her emptying her guts, anything to avoid the question that loomed over her. 

Had she been selfish after all, not waiting to conceive until the war was over?

NO. NO!  Luz violently shook her head. She refused to entertain that idea. She hadn’t made a mistake. Her baby was not a mistake.

…

Right?

Setting the trash can down and wiping flecks of stomach bile from her lips, Luz slumped back in her chair.

A second later a thought occurred to Luz, causing her to feel like an idiot.

What is wrong with me? How did I not think to just call the kitchens?

Before she could feel too sorry for herself, her stomach gave another audible growl. Looking down, Luz was entranced by the small bump that, though obscured by a concealment stone, she knew was there. Laying a hand on her lower belly, her fingers rested ever so slightly above the illusion. One corner of Luz’s mouth twitched upwards, a small, strained smile forming. Slipping into her mother tongue, the expecting latina whispered, “Yeah, I guess I should have thought of that sooner, shouldn’t I? Sorry about that. Mommy’s been a bit stressed lately.”

Her stomach growled again, and Luz chuckled. “Okay, fine. Maybe more than a bit.”

“So, what should we have?” Luz cheerfully asked. “Would a Nepenthes wrap be okay? Oh, how about some jellyflesh soup?” She had never expected a creature that looked like a jellyfish made of skin, complete with tentacles of pulsating muscle billowing out from the bell, to be appetizing. As a matter of fact, up until recently it had not seemed appealing in the slightest, but pregnancy cravings had completely upended Luz’s normal diet. “Ooh, we should have another one of those marrow and fruit smoothies as well. That was really good.”

Resisting the urge to drool, Luz picked up her morning docket with one hand, while reaching over to the crow phone with the other.

 

A few hours later, Luz heard the crystal ball ring, prompting a scowl to form.

Kalisera better have a good explanation for being late. Luz thought, tapping the crystal ball.

The usually frosty glass turned crystal clear, an image of an exhausted, ragged, man appearing. Bowing forward, the spider-headed bureaucrat wheezed out, “My apologies, Your Majesty. There was an incident.”

Luz glared Governor Kalisera. The arachnid demon was ragged and ruffled. The thick fangs and pedipalps that protruded from his mouth sported cracked and warped patches of mostly bare chitin, with only a few singed setae stubbornly holding on. Luz raised an eyebrow. Kalisera had never been particularly unblemished, but Luz could have sworn that there were quite a few new cracks and bald patches on his exoskeleton. “Indeed, your message made note of an urgent matter that necessitated your immediate attention. Pray tell, what was this ‘incident?’”

“An assortment of anti-war protestors were demonstrating outside the Governor’s Residence. My security detail had to disperse them before I could make it to the Provincial Hall.”

Luz huffed disapprovingly. “Are there no Illusionists on your payroll, Mr. Kalisera? Was a disguise so hard to whip up that you couldn’t get past them?”

“I apologize, Your Majesty. This wasn’t a small gathering. There were hundreds, at least, blockading the-”

Luz scrunched her nose. “Then you should have mentioned so in the message your secretary left me, rather than the almost impressively vague explanation you did leave, or, here’s a thought, calling the police to disperse them! I don’t care for excuses, Governor. I only want results. Results which you are increasingly unable to-”

A loud commotion erupted outside Luz’s office, startling the Empress, her head whipping towards the direction of the interruption. Staring at her door she heard the noise grow closer, and clearer. Someone was anxiously saying something to the guards posted outside her office.

Why did I make the sound cage one way? Luz griped, even though she knew full well why she had enchanted her office with a one-way auditory illusion barrier, rather than the typical two-way barrier. The few seconds of warning from hearing the guards fight off potential intruders could mean the difference between survival and anarchy.

It took a few seconds for the commotion to die down at which point Luz turned back to the crystal ball and said, “Now that that interruption seems to have been dealt with, I’d like to get back to the matter at-”

A firm, loud knocking came from the office door, causing Luz to frown. Whipping out a silencing glyph, Luz threw it to the ground, and tapped her foot on it.  A light blue energy spread out across the floor before spreading up the walls and ceiling. Within a few seconds, the entire office was framed in a pale blue light, and the room fell completely silent.

Luz lets out a small sigh of relief. “Now, where were we-” Luz began, only to stand up, scowling, as her office door opened, an unknown man walking in, who promptly gave a deep bow.

Deactivating her crystal ball, Luz’s nostrils flared in frustration. After she threw this imbecile out she was going to have the guards standing outside her office fired and thrown in prison for gross negligence.

Fortunately for the guards’ careers, the unknown man dispelled their illusory disguise, revealing themselves to be a member of the Special Investigation.

“I apologize for the interruption, Empress.” The man began. “Inspector Marrow, at your service. I’m here on behalf of Special Investigator Andrew Davies. He thought you may want to meet with the prisoner at once.”

Luz, her voice tinged with an optimistic tone that had long since become quite foreign to her, asked, “Prisoner? Did you find the leak?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty,” The investigator said, “but Hollowleaf’s situation is…complex.”

“Wait, Boscha?” Luz asked, surprised. “What did she do?”

 

Draining. That was the only word Boscha could think of to describe the Conformatorium. Her focus, her body heat, her magic, everything was being sapped away by the frigid stone around her.

A day ago she had been one of the most powerful people in the Isles, had been respected as a war hero, had been looking forward to becoming a mother. 

Now? Now she had nothing to her name. Titan, even that had been taken away from her. No longer was she Boscha Hollowleaf. No. Now she was Prisoner 2893.

She’d been in the cell for hours, Titan maybe days. There was nothing to mark the passage of time with, and she knew there wouldn’t ever be. As Boscha remembered all too well from the council meeting where the policy had been decided, the lights in Luz’s Conformatorium never turned off or even dimmed. Wouldn’t want prisoners to be able to slip away under cover of darkness, now would we?

Staring off into space, as Boscha had been for however long she had already been rotting in the cell for, she felt a sense of unease slowly form. Snapping out her dazed state, Boscha heard the sound of several pairs of boots marching on dense stone grow louder and louder. Holding her breath Boscha prayed that the source of the approaching noise wasn’t here for her.

Of course her prayer was rebuked, the freezing triclops coming face to face with her doom. On the other side of the bars stood the gallows given human form.

Luz’s eyes were an inferno of manic fury, tempered by bone-chilling calm. At that moment Boscha knew that it wasn’t a matter of if she would hang, but whether she would spend her last few minutes gasping for air, or if Luz would grant the mercy of dropping her from high enough to break her neck.

“I’ve been informed that for several years now you’ve been nickel and diming your own coven, abusing your position as coven head to secure contracts for your company, and embezzling funds from every source you have access to.” Luz growled. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Boscha gulped, “I don’t deny the charges, and am deeply sorry, Empre-”

“SORRY?!” Luz screeched. “SORRY doesn’t cut it! Do you have any idea how much you’ve set us back?! How many troops have lost their lives because of your avari-”

“But I finally found some! I found Titan Blood!"

The resultant silence was deafening. One moment Luz’s vitriolic tirade echoed off the stone walls, and the next moment nothing but wide, shocked eyes. After a few seconds of that oppressive, threatening aural absence, Luz, her eyes flicking back and forth between abject rage and ecstatic anticipation, stammered, “You- you found what?”

“Titan Blood! It’s why I had to divert so many funds to Hollowleaf Solutions! The company needed to be big enough that I could launder enough money to fund a secret search for Titan Blood. I- I just couldn’t risk the rebels learning of my search for Titan Blood. All of it was just so I could ensure that I could deliver Titan Blood to you. To win the war! To bring peace! To… to enable Your Grace to reconnect with your sister! I… I merely wished - WISH! - to serve you.”

As she listened to Boscha’s explanation, Luz’s mercurial expression slowly settled into one of maddening neutrality “Well, don’t keep me waiting. Where is it?”

“I- I would love to tell you.” Boscha began stammering. Taking in a deep breath Boscha steadied herself. This was her last chance to get out of this. It had to be perfect. “I merely request, in exchange for my loyal service, a pardon for the activities that I regrettably had to engage in to locate the Titan Blood.”

Luz cocked an eyebrow upon hearing that. “Do you really think you’re in any position to bargain?”

Boscha tamped down the rising panic attack forming in her chest. Hyperventilation could wait until after she had extricated herself from this nightmare. “Of course not, Empress. I just worry what message it would send to the Isles if those that procure what could very well be the key to ending this war are punished for doing so.”

The triclops waited in bone-chilling suspense as she watched Luz visibly mull the matter over. 

5 seconds.

10 seconds.

20 seconds.

40 seconds.

Boscha’s tenuous grasp on that sliver of hope slipped through her fingers the longer Luz deliberated. Closing her eyes, Boscha accepted her fate. She hadn’t planned on returning to the Titan’s embrace so soon, but it was apparent that was what was in store for her. Dad, Mom, I’ll be joining you soon. Boscha winced as her mind dredged up the memories of how she lost them. The memory of acrid ash mixed with the scent of antiseptic potions. Visions of collapsing beams interspersed with those of that dreaded hospital bed.

Mom… I hope I made you proud. I never forgot what you told me. Clawed my way back to the top. Hanging her head Boscha sighed. For all the good it did me.

Dad… I can’t wait to tell you about Skara. She’s the best… A better person than I could ever be, that's for sure. Honestly, the twins will probably turn out better without me to probably fuck up their personalities. Oh, I almost forgot, we’re having twins! Boscha briefly smiled at that thought, before immediately becoming sullen again, realizing, Not that I’ll have much to tell you about them…

Nearly a full minute passed before Luz spoke up again. “All right, I see your point.”

“Wait? Really?!” Boscha exclaimed, her eyes shooting wide open in shock, the triclops having resigned herself to, at the very least, life in prison, but, amazingly, Boscha’s gamble had paid off. Everyone has a price, and Boscha had successfully found Luz’s.

The small, friendly smile that Luz gave Boscha caused a wave of relief to wash over the witch. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I am honored by your mercy and grace.” OH, TITAN, THANK YOU!

“Of course. Now, where did you locate this Titan Blood?” Luz asked, her smile hungry.

“On the Knee.” Boscha enthusiastically answered. “It’s in a cave system 4 and a half klicks southeast of where the old Eclipse Lake was.”

Luz nodded. “And if I went there, I’d find this?” She raised her hand, and Boscha’s eyes widened in abject horror at the sight of a vial of Titan blood. When the triclops’ gaze flicked back to Luz’s face, the Empress was scowling in disgust. “At least you were honest with me about that. Guards, bring him in!”

The clanking chains sent waves of adrenaline coursing through her. It took only a few seconds for the other prisoner to come into view, but when he had Boscha wished it had taken years. Standing before her, manacles binding every limb, a thick metal collar around his neck, was Foreman Smith. A raggedy, bruised, sweat-caked Foreman Smith.

The Empress’ other hand shot out and violently clenched Smith’s jaw. Nails digging in, Luz wrenched Smith’s head to the side, forcing him to look Boscha in the eye, even as Luz’s gaze remained fixed on the Foreman.

“Your employee has already been very helpful.” Luz hissed, her voice low and venomous. She shook the vial at Boscha. “Did you really think you could BUY ME with this? You wouldn't have NEEDED to buy your way out of ANYTHING if you had just done your job!”

“But! But! You said you’d pard-”

“AND YOU SAID YOU’D NEVER BETRAY ME!” Luz roared. The fire in her eyes blazed to new heights. “WHEN YOU-” she paused, her rage catching in her throat, and when she spoke again it was like ice. “When you became the head of the potion coven you swore to uphold the peace we fought so hard for, to protect the Boiling Isles from corruption and exploitation. To be better. Better than Belos. Better than the warlords that followed. Better than the thugs that killed our mothers." Her eyes were inches from Boscha’s. “You swore that to me.”

Boscha forced words out. “B-bu-but that’s why I did all this! For you! To find-” 

“What kind of idiot do you take me for?” Luz snapped, her head whipping towards the triclops. “Nothing you did was necessary for your search for Titan Blood. I would have happily funded a search for Titan Blood had you suggested it during any council meeting in the past TEN YEARS.”

“But the rebels!” Boscha interjected.

Luz’s scowl grew ever deeper. “You and I both know they’re not the ones you were trying to hide your crimes from!”

Her insurance policy having failed, Boscha’s impulse was to bolt forwards and grovel at Luz’s feet. She rose barely an inch before her restraints went taut, manacles digging into her flesh. “PLEASE! PLEASE DON’T KILL ME! I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT! PLEASE!”

To Boscha’s horror her pleading only seemed to anger Luz further, her brown eyes subsumed under a predatory derangement. “Oh, don’t worry.” Luz hissed. “You will. Bring the other prisoner.”

A second later, Boscha felt her faith shrivel and die. The Titan was an evil being. That much she was certain of. No loving god would have forced her to watch in horror as a frazzled, tear-stroked Skara was marched into view at staffpoint, chains dangling from her hands and feet.

“Now, 2893,” Luz growled, “you’re going to tell me everything ELSE you’ve done.”

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I know it took a long time to complete, but I encountered a significant bout of writer's block that took a lot to muscle through. Having said that, looking over the chapter, I think it turned out well. With this chapter, my fic has officially been on AO3 for two years to the day! It's been a wild ride and I would like to offer my sincerest appreciation to everyone who has been following along with this story. This is the longest that I have ever worked on a single project, personally or professionally, and though I'm still a little surprised that I've managed to maintain my enthusiasm for it I am committed to finishing this story. Luz still has a lot to deal with, and I can't wait to show you.

With that out of the way, I would like to thank my editor, Sam Gabriel, for her guidance and honest critique. Without her help not only would this chapter have been substantially inferior, but so would this fic in general. Thank you so much, Sam. I don't think that I would have been able to maintain the drive to keep telling this story were it not for you.

Chapter 19

Summary:

In the aftermath of Boscha's downfall, a brief, tense respite falls over the Isles.

From underneath the covers, Dahlia faintly heard the sound of the front door closing, followed quickly by the sound of a kitchen cabinet opening and the fridge’s water dispenser.

Poking her head out, the pregnant goth weakly croaked, “Vee, is that you?”

“I’m here.” Vee announced, poking her head into the bedroom, her bag slung around her shoulder and a glass of water in her hand.

The sight of her wife alone caused a small amount of tension to wash away. Dahlia began to smile, before quickly wincing, clutching her chest, and letting out an aggravated groan.

Flying into action, Vee rushed to her wife’s side. Reaching into her bag Vee pulled out the reason for her recent errand, a brand new canister of antacid tablets.

“You’re a lifesaver, Vee.” Dahlia said, grabbing the water and bottle from her wife’s hands. As fast as she could, Dahlia shook out a tablet into her hand and popped it into her mouth.

Wanting the effects to work as quickly as possible, Dahlia thoroughly and hurriedly ground the tablet to a fine powder between her molars, washing the pulverized remains down with the glass of water.

As if to mock her, the expectant mother felt her throat begin to burn immediately after swallowing the antacid. Curling forward in, and clutching her chest, Dahlia bitterly muttered “You sure there isn’t a version of this that kicks in within thirty seconds?”

Vee chuckled and shook her head. “No, I wish.”

“Of course not.” Dahlia bemoaned.

“Do you want anything else?”

“A back massage wouldn’t hurt.” Dahlia answered, reaching around to point at the small of her back. “The cramping just won’t go away.”

Nodding, Vee took off her trusty yellow hair clip and set it down on the bedside nightstand before climbing under the covers behind Dahlia. Closing her eyes, Dahlia, hoping the antacid would start working soon, couldn’t help but smile. Sure, pregnancy sucked, but Vee’s tender care was a definite upside.

Expecting human hands to begin kneading her back, Dahlia instead heard the telltale sound of flesh magically being bent, twisted, and pulled into a new form.

Scaled, clawed hands pressed themselves into Dahlia’s lumbar region, fingers expertly teasing out the various knots and aches that her coming children had so generously gifted her. At the same time a long, muscular tail coiled around Dahlia’s legs including her doughy thighs. Those, along with her expanded hips, had been Dylan’s gift from back when she’d been pregnant with him. The pregnancy had been extremely easy, with one major caveat. For seemingly no reason, Dahlia had rapidly packed on the pounds during the last trimester, even more than she was during her current twin pregnancy. Much to her chagrin, she hadn’t been able to shake off most of the baby weight.

At first Dahlia had felt extremely self-conscious about the changes to her body. She had admittedly held a not so small degree of pride in her lanky form. Vee had helped her get over her insecurities, and not by offering simple platitudes that anybody could have given. Of course she hadn’t. Living in a body that doesn’t feel like your own? Few were more qualified than Vee to empathize with how that felt.

In time Dahlia came to accept her expanded, maternal frame. If anything, the goth figured, it just meant there was more for Vee to coil around.

As her wife’s expert hands kneaded the knotted muscles of her lower back Dahlia let out a relieved sigh, tinged with a slightly more embarrassing inflection, a satisfied moan escaping her vocal cords.

As Dahlia expected, Vee made no comment, instead silently continuing to massage her wife’s back. Indeed, Dahlia knew that if she turned around she wouldn’t see anything approaching a smug grin. No, the basilisk would undoubtedly be looking at her with unrestrained adoration. Dahlia couldn’t help but grin at that thought.

“OW!” the goth suddenly yelped, her brief internal revelry cut short by two direct hits to her lungs.

As if pulling away from a boiling pot, Vee wrenched her clawed hands away. Her voice frantic, the young basilisk cried, “What’s wrong?! Did I dig too deep?!”

“No! No! You’re fine!” Dahlia quickly reassured, turning over to look her nervous wife in the eyes. The human began to rub small, concentric circles on her bump, quickly calming the occupants. “The twins were just voicing their strongly held opinions about the size of their living quarters.”

Vee held unblinking eye contact with Dahlia, the shapeshifter’s gorgeous sky-blue eyes, framed by sea-foam green scales, desperately searching Dahlia’s expression for some hidden emotion, for how she really felt. Finding nothing, Vee let out a sigh of relief, and sweetly stated, “Well, at least it’s almost over.”

“Sure, until the next kid.” Dahlia chuckled.

“Wait, next kid?” Vee said, stunned. “I thought you didn’t want to go through another pregnancy?”

“Oh, I absolutely don’t.” Dahlia clarified, sitting up with more effort than she wished was necessary. “But I do want one more kid. Probably not any more than that though. Four sounds hectic enough.”

Vee giggled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But still, these past few weeks have been pretty rough. Are you sure you want to risk going through this again?”

“Sure, that’s a risk, but it could also turn out like how it was when I was pregnant with Dylan. Compared to now, he was practically smooth-sailing.” Dahlia admitted.

“Still…”

“Vee, be honest with me, would you be content with just three kids?”

“You’d have to carry them. It’s not a matter of what I want.”

Dahlia fell silent for a few moments. She understood Vee’s argument, and in many respects agreed with it, but disregarding one’s own feelings to focus on their loved ones was unfortunately a Noceda specialty. “Vee, please, answer the question.”

Looking to the side, Vee’s gaze pierced through the barrier of the present. The image of her mere physical surroundings was smothered, replaced by hundreds of dancing shadows cast by crackling, electric arcs, accompanied by the sound of clanging chains dully echoing off cold stone and metal.

Dahlia felt her heart break at the all-too familiar sight of her wife’s distant gaze.

The expectant mother suppressed the impulse to wrap her wife in a constricting hug. The goth had learned through hard practice that hugging and even hand-holding, any form of constraints whatsoever, were not what Vee wanted or needed during an episode. Holding herself back, Dahlia, in a tone as calm and soothing as she could manage given her worryingly high cortisol levels, said, “Hey, it’s okay. You’re not there anymore. It’s just a flashback. You’re safe and sound here in Gravesfield.

“Take deep breaths. Nice and slow.” Dahlia muscled down her own desire to hyperventilate. Vee didn’t need her freaking out too. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s not real. You’re looking at the headboard of our bed.”

The glassy state of Vee’s expression dulled ever so slightly, and Dahlia held back a small sigh of relief. She couldn’t stop now. Vee still needed her.

“Can you see the headboard? Can you describe it for me?”

A few tense seconds passed before Vee gave a brief, stiff, almost imperceptible nod.

“I… I see the whorls of the wood.” Vee began, her voice hoarse and labored, “I… I… I see wh- where Dylan carved th- that picture.”

“What’s the picture of?” Dahlia asked, her voice still as calm and steady as she could manage.

“I- It’s the three… the three of us. We’re… we’re holding hands. … I’m on his right. You… you’re on his left.”

Dahlia continued to ground Vee, slowly pulling the love of her life from the latest visit back to the hell that quite literally made her who she was. Wiping away crusted tears, the expectant mother did everything she could to keep the fury she felt from showing on her face. If he weren’t already dead I would tear apart the monster who did this to her limb from limb. 

“Don’t…” Vee, to Dahlia’s surprise, croaked out, “don’t make me decide for you. I can’t. I can’t be like them.”

Dahlia briefly lost control, her hand moving to grab Vee’s, but wrenched herself back. Taking in a deep breath, Dahlia centered herself before replying. “Vee, honey, you’re not forcing me to do anything.”

“But… if you…”

“We’re just talking right now. Nothing has been set in stone.” Dahlia began. “But, we’re a team, Vee. I want to know what you think.”

A silence fell upon the room, punctuated only by the dull thrum of the AC, and the distant, muffled sound of a car driving past.

Several minutes passed, and Dahlia patiently waited for Vee to respond. The tense atmosphere eventually broke with a small, exhausted, sigh. In a quiet mumble infused with decades of shame, Vee, slipping into the tongue of her adoptive family, admitted, “I… yes… I want another.”

Giving in to a moment of weakness, Dahlia pulled Vee in and left a kiss on her cheek. Thankfully, rather than recoiling in primal fear, Vee, having calmed down enough, instead briefly blushed. To Dahlia’s sadness, the brief flicker of happiness faded away just as quickly as it had appeared, the latina’s expression turning somber once more.

Though glad that Vee had calmed down enough that physical contact was no longer triggering, Dahlia despaired that she still had no idea how to deal with the root idea. They both wanted another kid, but Vee wasn’t human. In fact, she wasn’t even from the same tree of life as Dahlia. Without any of the Boiling Isles’ reproductive potions, the likelihood that Vee would be able to carry their next kid was only slightly above a tap-dancing polar bear suddenly appearing at their front door.

Thus, the central problem remained. How could Dahlia assuage Vee that she wasn’t forcing her to do anything? Both of them wanted another kid, and Dahlia would have to be the one to carry them. While she was willing to do so, she was also willing to wait in line at the DMV to renew her driver’s license. That didn’t mean that the prospect of either appealed to her.

Dahlia pondered how to assuage Vee’s fears that she was forcing Dahlia to do anything. After a minute, a possible solution struck her, one so obvious that the goth felt embarrassed that it hadn’t occurred to her earlier.

“You know,” Dahlia softly began, getting her wife’s attention, “we could just adopt.”

As Vee considered the idea her expression brightened, a massive grin forming.

“I’m guessing you wouldn’t be opposed to that?” Dahlia asked, returning the smile.

“Not at all.” Vee replied, a dreamy look on her face.

Dahlia chuckled, she could tell what Vee was enraptured by. “Just to be clear, we’d only be adopting one kid, not the whole foster home.”

Vee blushed. “... Are you sure you don’t have oracle magic?”

“I’m sure. I just know how much you like kids.”

The basilisk’s blush deepened, causing Dahlia to laugh, before pulling Vee in for a hug. “Don’t be ashamed, babe, I love how big your heart is.”

Vee’s blush grew into an inferno, and the basilisk leaned forward to nuzzle into the crook of Dahlia’s neck to hide it. “Dahls, stop it.”

“Never.” Dahlia teased.

 

Deep underground, within the Illusion Coven Headquarters beneath southern Castletown, Coven Head Augustus Porter was in a meeting with high-ranking personnel of the Center for War Information, which had suddenly expanded in size.

Looking at the higher-ups of what used to be the “Civic Education” subdepartment of the Bard Coven’s “Performing Arts” department, Gus couldn’t help but feel conflicted. While he was glad that Imperial messaging would now be handled under one roof, increasing efficiency and coordination, he was decidedly less pleased by what had prompted Luz to order such a transfer.

Gus sighed. Some days it felt like he understood Luz more back when she was a total stranger with a charming penchant for theatrics and a surprising lack of gills.

Something to ponder later. Gus reminded himself. “All right, now that everyone is here, let’s get this underway.” Porter announced, a few attendees straightening their already ramrod posture.

“If I may, sir, I have concerns regarding Hollowleaf.” A demon/witch hybrid from the Weave Research Office said, before promptly falling silent, looking at Augustus expectantly.

The coven head nodded.

“Thank you, sir. While we’ve managed to clamp down on CB coverage of Hollowleaf, Penstagram, not to mention the rest of the Weave, has proven to be a trickier beast. There’s just too much outrage, speculation, and discussion for us to be able to counter.”

“I’m guessing the scale is beyond what hiring additional reviewers would be able to handle?”

The hybrid solemnly nodded. “The WRO would need to scale up by an order of magnitude to even begin tackling the volume of conversations talking about Hollowleaf.”

Augustus refrained from rubbing his temples in frustration. Spies and corrupt officials would undoubtedly slip through the cracks if they attempted a hiring surge of that size. Why couldn’t I have been wrong? Gus bitterly thought.

The Illusionist had long suspected that Boscha was corrupt. The only reason he hadn’t said anything is because he knew that the resultant PR nightmare would be disastrous and something the rebels would make full use of. Porter also suspected that Mia Ethelia had had similar inklings of Boscha’s crimes and refrained from saying anything for the same reason he had.

Gus had planned to leave an anonymous tip with the Castletown PD after the war was won, but now the cat was out of the bucket. Couldn’t you have kept your dealings hidden for a couple more years, Boscha? Was that too much to ask?

“Sir?” the hybrid spoke up, shaking Gus out of his reverie. “What should we do?”

Find a time pool and create a better timeline. “For now, we’ll just have to continue on as we have. There is no way we would be able to hire that many people fast enough and maintain secrecy.” Not without playing into rebel talking points, that is.

The hybrid attempted to steel their face, and begrudgingly acceded. “Understood, sir.”

Before a tense silence could fall over the room another piped up, commenting, “I’m surprised this hasn’t caused the Empress to blow her top. I’d have expected her to have marched down here and fired us for incompetence.”

You and me both. Gus thought, recalling a conversation he’d had with Luz earlier that day. When he’d brought up the issue of the rebels capitalizing on the news to frame the Empire as fundamentally corrupt, Luz had laughed off his concerns. Apparently something had happened to make Luz feel like the war was basically already over. If only she would tell him so he could begin preparing messaging in line with whatever master plan Luz had apparently developed.

“Would you blame her?” another snarked, interrupting Gus’ thoughts. “A few weeks ago the rebels did our jobs for us with that attack on the Right Arm. Now all the public is talking about is who else might be like Hollowleaf. If I were her I’d be furious right now.”

“Don’t remind me about that,” a surly witch, one of the recent transfers from the Bard Coven, growled out. “My cousin worked on the orchards up there. Got doused in the face with poisoned water when the irrigation cycle started.”

Everyone grimaced upon hearing that. Gus, on the other hand, furrowed his brow, an idea percolating his head. “Yeah. That… that might work.” Gus muttered.

Looking back at everyone Coven Head Augustus Porter said, “If the public wants to forget about the rebels’ barbarity in favor of the new exciting thing, then we’ll just have to link the two.”

A few raised an eyebrow at that, unsure how linking revelations of corruption in the highest echelons of the Imperial government to the still all too recent attack would benefit Imperial messaging, or even work, but remained silent.

Augustus, for his part, continued. While he, years ago, would have felt some confliction about taking advantage of a tragedy in such a way, now he felt nothing but determination and a steely resolve. “Our new campaign will hammer home the following messaging: While it is unfortunate that Hollowleaf succumbed to her own vices, her arrest demonstrates the Empire’s continued commitment to weeding out corruption. No one, not even a coven head, is above the judgement of the law. It is unreasonable to think that the accused is nothing Imperial justice hasn’t dealt with before. A rabid apple crab will slaughter the barrel. The Empire is a vigilant farmer that removes the infected before harvest. The rebellion just burns down the orchard.”

A flurry of uncertain glances and hushed whispers followed, only to be broken by the same surly witch who had growled earlier. “Sir, that’s so crazy it just might work. I’ll pull an all-nighter with my design team. You’ll have proposals for slogans and posters on your desk by morning.”

 

The next morning, early enough that to call it such would be borderline pedantic, Special Investigator Andrew Davies loomed over his desk. His sunken, red-rimmed eyes flicked back and forth, page by page, line by line, pleading for answers from the mountain of reports, assessments, and communiques that covered every square inch of his desk.

As he had enchanted them to do so, the lights lining the walls of his office had gone out at precisely 12:25 AM. More than an hour ago.

Davies gave thanks to the golden ring around his wrist, its violent intensity illuminating the office with the clarity of the noonday sun. Of course, what would be better is if it wasn’t preventing him from going out and getting the answers Her Majesty deserved.

He knew it wasn’t the role the Empress assigned him. He knew that the Empress had given him nothing less than the finest minds in the Empire to work with. Even so, he didn’t bother suppressing his desire to interrogate the suspects himself. Surely he would find the answer if he didn’t have to rely on the efforts of others.

If only he had realized the implications of Her Majesty’s wording before he made his oath. The key difference between the oaths the remainder of the taskforce swore and his own.

The Empress and the task force. Those were the only people he could talk about the case with.

Her Highness must have predicted this. At that thought a wave of shame smothered his frustration and the golden ring around his wrist immediately vanished, the room plunged into darkness.

Letting out a tired sigh, Davies relented. Continuing to stare at these files laid out before him wasn’t going to accomplish anything besides further demonstrating a disturbing lack of trust in Her Highness.

Turning around, Davies pulled out the cot in the corner of his office, and got under the covers. Pulling out his scroll, Davies changed his alarm to 5:30, suppressing the guilt that bubbled up as he did so. If anything came up that required his immediate attention his team would wake him up.

Besides, he could use the extra hour of sleep.

Of course, that was assuming he could quiet his mind enough to actually sleep. What are we missing? Davies thought, gritting his teeth in response to now aggravatingly familiar frustration.

They had already interrogated every suspect, searched their homes, places they frequented, assigned each a permanent tail, and so far they had come up with squat. While some units continued investigating the established list of suspects, others had been tasked with working through the list of everyone they had interacted with who might have motive to harm the Empress. Unfortunately, given that most of the suspects occupied the highest echelons of the Imperial government and the state of the Isles for the past two decades, the latter was a MUCH longer list.

It might be time to start directly checking suspects’ minds. Davies thought, grimacing. It was risky, but they were running out of options.

At least we’d be able to definitively rule out a suspect, searching every memory. Andrew thought, before sighing. The drawbacks to doing exhaustive internal memory searches weren’t exactly insignificant. The chances that the inner self would find them during such a search was essentially guaranteed. The benefit that memory extraction had was that you could modify a memory and have them not know they were interrogated. The inner self was a lot harder to fool.

It also tended to fight back against intruders. Sometimes with little regard for collateral damage.

Davies wanted to catch the leaker, yes, but incapacitating a significant chunk of Imperial leadership wouldn’t exactly help Her Majesty bring peace to the Isles.

Maybe truth potion? Davies pondered, before his eyes shot open, immediately feeling sick. No. Definitely not. He might as well spit in the Empress’ face if he did such a thing in her name.

What else can we do then?

…

*YAWN* Electing to return to his original plan of actually attempting to sleep, Davies closed his eyes and finally felt himself drift off into unconsciousness.

 

Left.

Right.

Smile.

Left.

Right.

Smirk.

Back in the castle, striding in place at her combination treadmill-standing desk Luz, still wide awake, looked up from the report spread out in front of her. When she read it, Luz had felt the tension in her muscles fade away for the first time in years. Even the most conservative estimates for the magical output of the newly discovered Titan Blood were awe-inspiring.

Luz pushed the report aside and pulled out a blank piece of paper and began penning the speech that she had been waiting to give for years.

Citizens, it is my great privilege to announce that the day we’ve all been waiting for, the day that we have been fighting for, has finally arrived.

It is a day that I am humbled to have led the Isles to. I only wish that there was not still so much to do.

“We might not even have to use it.” Luz gleefully said, continuing to put pen to paper. “Not unless they’re suicidal.”

Fear not though, I will not abandon the Isles. I will ensure that this peace, a gift long overdue, is something we can enjoy for generations to come.

There was so much Titan Blood that even if she made a portal and a few backups she would still have enough power to force the rebels to surrender unconditionally. And if they were stupid enough to refuse? Well, Luz thought, beginning to laugh, if Hiroshima could be rebuilt, then so can the Left Arm.

Notes:

Due to extreme writer's block, this chapter took a lot longer to finish than I would have liked. The latter two scenes especially halted any progress for quite some time. A couple days ago, however, I managed to get in the zone and get the chapter into a state that I like. It's not my best work, but I think this chapter works well enough as a transition between the chapters to come and the climactic end of Boscha's arc in the previous chapter. It will take a long time to get there, but I am committed to seeing Luz's story through to the end.

Chapter 20

Summary:

Luz seeks validation and reassurance after experiencing the one thing she can't afford: doubt.

- 14 Years Before The Present Day -

It was Spring, 7 years after Belos was overthrown, and the mid-morning fog rolled through the dense pines just north of Lumbarna. Up in the canopy, obscured by magic and mist, dozens of witches and demons waited around in camouflaged hides for the job to start. Suspended from the branches, a hundred crates from the branches, each containing a snarling juvenile male Chomping Conifer, ready to be cut loose at a moment’s notice.

“I still don’t feel comfortable with this.” A purple, hexapodal demon whispered to the lanky witch standing beside him. “She saved our lives, for Titan’s sake. I know the Boss wants to make Bones look bad, but surely there’s a better way to do it?”

The lanky witch, who had been in the middle of double checking the illusion spells on the nearest trap, spun on her heels, and grabbed one of the demon’s arms. Her eyes wide, gestured to a man hunched over, looking out she hissed under her breath, “Keep your voice down. Do you have a death wish or something?!”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“Look, I don’t like this anymore than you, Thornton, but I’ve got a kid to look out for so don’t go bringing me down with you.”

The purple demon slumped, nodding. Turning around he failed to keep even one of his eyes on his surroundings and slammed against into a brick wall, stumbling backwards. Shaking his head, he looked up and saw the obstacle was actually another gang member, though he couldn’t place his name.

Looking at him, the demon couldn’t help but feel pity. Despite the sweltering conditions, the man stubbornly wore leggings and long sleeves. What little skin the witch had left exposed was weary and abused. Red, fresh scars crowded out all other skin. Divots and lashes wrapped around the man’s hands before burrowing under his sleeves. That he could still move his fingers was a miracle. His skull wasn’t much easier to look at. Starting from the mangled nub that used to be his right ear, two parallel rows of deep, gnarled divots ran down the nape of his neck and began wrapping around, stopping just short of the man’s left jugular. Thornton suddenly felt lucky he’d only gotten a few punctures in his carapace. “What’s the matter?”

“No- nothing. Just double-checking everything before the targets get here. I, uh, I think I missed a few crates.”

“Tell me ‘bout it,” the witch huffed. “Why’d the boss make us trap this many anyways? Freakin’ overkill, if ya ask me. They won’t even be able t’ get on their staffs, let alone fly off.”

From off to the side, the voice of the squad leader interrupted the two. “Saying idiotic crap like that is why you’re not in charge, Rogers.”

Thornton froze in fear while Rogers turned to look at the man who spoke. “And what’s that s’posed to mean, Boss?”

The hunched man narrowed his eyes in disbelief. He knew Rogers was a special kind of idiot, one who had no concept of the phrase ‘hitting rock bottom’, but surely no one could be THIS dumb? “Have you forgotten who we’re attacking, dumbass?”

“‘Course not, but we nearly lost a couple even trappin’ these things.” Rogers dramatically gestured at his absent ear and mangled hands. “There’s no way anyone could survive a hundred at once-”

The leader turned to face Rogers and hissed, “Rogers, if you don’t quit saying the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard right now, then, so help me, I will show you into one of those crates so those things can finish what they started.”

Were it not for the red scar tissue on his hands and neck, the musclebound witch’s pallor would have resembled that of an oracle’s spirit.

“We are going to be facing off against Whispers, The Owl Lady, Blight, and LUZ HERSELF.” The ambitious gang leader growled before jabbing his thumb in the direction of the nearest trapped conifer. “All those snarling balls of hate will be able to do is soften them up so we can finish them off without signing our death warrants, you braindead cretin. You better fight like a starving hand drake, because if you die I am selling your organs as potion ingredients. Do I make myself clear?”

Rogers frantically nodded, the man’s knees buckling under him.

The leader continued glaring at Rogers for a few seconds, the man withering under his superior’s gaze. Though satisfying, he turned back towards the clearing. Rogers may have been an idiot, but he couldn’t afford to send the musclehead into a panic attack. Not when he was already on the verge of one himself.

The targets had arrived.

                                                     

In the present day, deep in the heart of the castle, after two exhausting weeks spent figuring out how best to utilize the ace that Boscha so graciously gifted, Luz glared into the glowing red core of the crystal ball sat before her, pleading those listening to finally see reason. “The Isles have tolerated your misguided fanaticism for far too long! How many more years of chaos will you inflict upon us! How much grief? Destruction? INSANITY?! Well, no more, we say! Whatever ideals you may have once aspired to, you lost any claim to years ago. How dare you claim you fight for freedom? For liberty? After how many you’ve butchered?! How free are those you poisoned in the Right Arm? The only thing you free people from is this mortal coil!

“You are a cancerous tumor draining the Isles of life! The Titan suffers! And I feel his suffering! Well…” Luz paused, catching her breath. Reaching into her cloak she pulled out a vial of shimmering navy blue blood. “The time has come to deliver the treatment! The finest minds in the Isles are, at this very moment, crafting a potion to wake the Titan and end his suffering!!”

It was fitting that, whether by mere threat or grim action, the madness that took King from her would be ended by his own father. She could feel the two of them watching her from heaven, and had to resist the urge to smile. She couldn’t afford to mess up the speech and let them down at the finish line. “I expect nothing less than your unconditional surrender. Should you press on and prove yourselves to be even greater fools than I could have ever imagined, I will be forced to use this terrible power come its completion in March.”

As her final words rang out, the illusionist witch manning the crystal ball cast the deactivation spell. The deep crimson core of the crystal ball began coiling and twisting, folding in upon itself until all that was left was the clear glass of an inactive CB.

Panting from the energy of the speech, Luz, smiling painfully wide, basked in the moment. “He… Hehe. AhahahaHaHAHAHAHAHAHA!” It’s OVER! It’s FINALLY OVER! After FIFTEEN YEARS, I’VE FINALLY DONE IT!

Looking up, Luz noticed that the broadcasting technician looked off. “Did something go wrong with the broadcast?”

The illusionist’s eyes grew as large as dinner plates, his head whipping towards her. “N- no! No problems! Th- the entire Isles heard you.”

“Excellent.” The corners of Luz’s smile stretched even wider, her skin creaking under the strain. Leaving the broadcasting room, she couldn’t help but cackle. WE’RE SAFE! WE’RE FINALLY SAFE!

Rather than speeding back to her office, the euphoric Empress slowed to a stroll. As she meandered back to the Everest of paperwork that awaited her, Luz perused the hundreds of tapestries, murals, and stained-glass windows that decorated her ornate hallways, a visual chronology of the Isles. 

The Innocence of the Deadwardian Era.

The Tyranny of Belos.

The Vindictiveness of the Collector.

The Savagery of Anarchy.

The Arduousness of Unification.

Luz would need to add some representation of the peace treaty, but that would be but a footnote for what was to come. She would have to figure out where to put the frescoes, statues, and more that would represent the new age. The final era of the Isles. Her Pax Imperia.

Peace. After nearly 15 years of war they were finally going to have PEACE. If you included the preceding five years of anarchy, five years she had relinquished her duty, then there were adults who were about to experience the first day of peace in their lives. Luz looked down at the space where her magically concealed 17-week bump was and melted. She may have failed the Isles for far too long, but at least her baby would only know the joyous days to come.

 

Reaching the patchwork that was her office door, Luz’s smile softened. Though she’d had it magically reinforced with some of the strongest enchantments the Isles offered, Luz had made a point of not disguising what the door had been made from.

Reaching out, Luz gently ran her fingers along the maze of fissures and fractures of wood filling that bound the tens of thousands of splinters and shards together. There she stood, tracing the history of the mahogany monument, painful, beautiful memories rushing back until she eventually settled on a large golden eye. The very one that had welcomed her home that fateful summer all those years ago. Luz’s smile brightened. After fifteen long years of war, she would finally be able to see its counterpart again. I can’t wait to see the look on your face when I tell you that you’re going to be a grandma.

Getting back to work, Luz pulled out the next item on her docket and felt her mood ever so slightly dampened upon seeing the Finance Department’s seal at the top of the document. Fuck. What is it now?

Reading through the exceedingly long memorandum from her Head of Finance, Luz couldn’t help but chuckle. Apparently, puppeting the Titan’s left arm and skull could have “adverse economic impacts.” Luz rolled her eyes. Of course it would, but a few earthquakes hitting the adjacent Upper Chest province wouldn’t do more damage than letting the rebels continue to lob shells over the border for Titan knows how many more years.

To be fair, predicting the worst case scenario is his job. Luz mused while setting the memo aside. As she grabbed the next document she snickered. There was one thing that the Head of Finance hadn’t accounted for. There are definitely going to be a lot of people who are going to celebrate a bit too hard during all the victory parties. Not that I can blame them. Besides, a day or two of hangovers won’t kill the economy.

As the seconds and minutes passed, her euphoric high slowly ebbed. Left with no one but herself and the quiet sounds of her office, a small nagging feeling bubbled up. People were going to be happy… right? Yeah. Yeah. Of course they were. They were going to be ecstatic.

…

Luz shot up, her chair falling to the floor. Eyes wide, skin clammy, and breath shallow, Luz sped towards the door. “Maeve, hold down the fort.” Luz clipped out, ignoring the confused chirps and trills coming from behind her. 

As she exited her office, Luz registered that the guards stationed outside said something, but the specifics eluded her, the pullulating ocean of thoughts already filling her mind to the brim. “St- stay at your post.”

Tearing through the castle, Luz quickly reached her destination, marching through the double doors separating the Abomination Coven Headquarters from the rest of the castle.

Those present turned their heads towards the sudden commotion. A pregnant silence filled the air, the overlapping murmur of shop-talk and idle chit-chat strangled by royal intrusion. Across the small room, behind a curved mahogany desk cluttered with binders, a crystal ball, crow phone, framed pictures of smiling demons and witches, and various knick-knacks, sat the bespectacled receptionist.

“M- my wife. Where is she?” Luz stammered, her eyes darting back and forth, fingertips fluttering up and down the trim of her cloak.

The receptionist looked at the Empress with uneasy concern. “Her Majesty is in a meeting with the department heads and assistant coven head in conference room A, Your Highne-”

With that Luz took off down the halls of the abomination coven, ignoring the fading calls from the receptionist.

SLAM.

SLAM.

SLAM.

The long, thin, faux-Tyrian purple carpet that lined the Abomination Coven halls provided little insulation between her trusty combat boots and the wood plank tiling beneath. Each violent step raised heads, pulled curious witches and demons out of their offices. Luz ignored all of them, her thoughts and heart racing in equal measure.

What in the Titan’s name is wrong with me?! Why am I freaking out over nothing like a little kid?! What kind of a mother am I if… Luz snarled as the answer hit her. I AM GOING TO TEAR RAMUS A NEW ONE AFTER THIS! They did not fucking warn me just how shitty these mood swings were going to make me feel! How am I supposed to run a fucking country if these stupid fucking hormones cause me to break down over an impossible hypothetical?!

Turning the corner, Luz saw the large, wooden doors of Conference Room A at the left end of the hall. Like the other Conference Rooms in the Abomination Coven headquarters, the double doors of Conference Room A were completely covered in giant, mirrored bas-relief carvings, detailed collages of the Royal Consort’s wartime accomplishments. Posted outside the conference room were two royal guards that stumbled back upon seeing the Empress sprinting towards them.

“Your Majesty!”

“Empress, is there-”

Screeching to a halt between them, Luz attempted to order them to stand aside, only for the words to come out an incoherent mumble.

“Your Majesty, is something the matter?”

Rather than try to speak again, Luz briefly removed her hands from the death grip they had held on the trim of her cloak since she had left her office and shoved the guards aside before wrenching the large ornate doors open. The heavy wooden slabs slammed through the air, magically screeching to a halt a hair’s breadth from the adjacent walls.

Inside the room, a dozen heads whipped towards her, eyes wide and jaws falling open. Ignoring everyone else, Luz’s eyes jumped towards the end of the table and saw her purple-haired relief. She could already feel her heart rate beginning to return to normal. Or, rather, her usual heart rate. Normal might be a bit too generous a descriptor if her blood pressure was any indication. “E- everyone but the Coven Head out.”

A lanky, wiry man of similar build to Luz herself, minus the magically concealed bump, spoke up, “With my deepest respect, Empress, is this a matter that can wait? This is highly inconvenient.”

The Empress’ eyes widened and jaw dropped, her anxiety over maintaining an aura of calm, imperious poise overshadowed by sheer disbelief.

“It’s just that we’ve already had to reschedule this meeting twice, so if it is at all possible...” 

As the man continued to ramble, a scowl replaced the Empress’ shocked expression. The sovereign straightened her shoulders and strode towards the ingrate. Her stained, weathered boots slammed against the polished wooden floor. Each step a dull bell tolling once more.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Stopping in front of the seated witch, Her Majesty loomed over her target, her piercing gaze a frigid inferno.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking. Would you be so kind as to tell me your name?” The Empress growled.

“Arth- Arthur Cullingham, Y- your Hi- Highness.”

“And what might your job be, Mr. Cullingham?”

“Assis- Assistant head of the General Education Department, ma’am- YOUR MAJESTY!”

“An educator? I would think someone in your position would be familiar with basic grammar.”

“I- beg your pardon?”

“My exact words were ‘Everyone but the Coven Head out.’ Explain to me how you could have possibly interpreted that as a mere question or suggestion.”

“I- I- I’m sorry, Y- You- Your Highness.”

“I’m not the person you need to apologize to.” The Empress jabbed her thumb in the direction of the Head of the General Education Department. “Mx. Bog is the one who has to train a new assistant. You, on the other hand, have 15 minutes to pack up your stuff and get out of my house.”

“Wha-” Cullingham’s indignantly stuttered, outrage at her absurd overreaction consuming him. Before he could voice even a single syllable of his planned protest though, his amygdala roared into action, ordering his legs to comply with the very polite Slitherbeast and LEAVE.

As the former assistant head of the General Education Department of Abomination Magic sprinted out, doors wildly in his wake, the Empress looked back at the other attendees, her eyes cold and imperious. “Meeting adjourned.”

…

SCREECH!

CRASH!

SLAM!

All chairs but two crashed against the floor, thrown back with reckless abandon. The wooden caterwauling prompted a harsh ringing in Luz’s ears, prompting a scowl that hurried the pace of those that saw it.

With a final, conclusive crack, the doors slammed shut, silence returning to the conference room. The Empress’ nose scrunched and her scowl deepened. How DARE they try to keep me from her?! Luz made a mental note to tell Davies to look into Bogs again. Making someone as insubordinate as Cullingham assistant head? Bogs was either a traitor or incompetent. Actually, after he found the leaker, she’d task Davies with investigating the federal bureaucracy. It was apparent that she needed to clean house if someone that garrulous could rise so high. Luz growled. Castletown PD would also have to be looked into given that their background checks were clearly insuffic-

“Batata?”

Luz’s mind ground to a halt, the sweet, melodious voice she’d sought out reminding Luz of why she’d come down here in the first place. Turning around Luz saw her wife looking at her with a worried expression and shattered, throwing herself onto the witch. The conference room descended into an ardent, interminable harmony, each mournful wail violently embracing the soothing consolation that followed.

 

Nearly half an hour later, Luz lay there panting, eyes red, cheeks slick with half-evaporated tears. Clutching her rock, she laid out her soul. “I hate these mood swings. I mean, King would be proud of me. I know that. Mom would be proud of me. I KNOW THAT. Eda will finally understand. I KNOW THAT. Besides, it’s not like I’ll actually have to use it. An- and even they force my hand, I can’t be weak. Not like last time. I can’t abandon everyone again. If… if I had just taken charge back then, everyone would be safe. They would still have lives, families, futures. I can’t… I can’t make that mistake again. Not… Not when I’m so close to making things right.”

“Our baby will be safe?” The Royal Consort asked, tightening her embrace.

Looking up, Luz’s gaze met the shimmering golden beacons she had fallen in love with all those years ago, now, like her own, like all those in the isles, weary and tired. “Yeah. She’ll… she’ll finally be safe, Hermosa.”

“Then we have no choice.”

Luz let out a sigh of relief, and smiled.

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Cautiously, tenderly, the Royal Consort leaned forward, her lips delicately meeting Luz’s. Her eyes fluttering closed, Luz felt the traitorous intrusive thoughts invading her mind fade into oblivion.

Notes:

I apologize for the long delay in getting this chapter out. I had a major case of writer's block, not helped by personal matters that tanked my mental health and ground my life to a halt for a while. I'm a lot better now, and eager to get back to writing.

Also, I was recently made aware that I misremembered the color of Titan Blood. I was under the false impression that it is purple, whereas it is actually a dark blue. Previous mentions of Titan Blood's coloration have been edited to match the source material.

Notes:

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and would love to know what you thought about it. Please feel free to tear my work to shreds in the comments below, as knowing what I’m doing wrong is the only way I can improve. Thank you, and I hope you have a good day.

Also, I commissioned KattyPurr to create cover art, and have included the said cover art at the beginning of chapter 1.

It has been a long journey to get here, but I am proud to announce that the audiobook version of The First of a Dynasty is officially live! New chapters may take a while to be added to the audio version after their respective text uploads on ao3. I’m thrilled with how this has turned out so far and hope you all enjoy it. I’d also like to give a massive shout-out to the voice of the audiobook, Sam Gabriel. She has done an amazing job, and I can’t thank her enough. You can find The First of a Dynasty audio version along with the other stories Sam has voiced HERE! If for some reason the embedded link doesn’t work, you can paste the following URL into your address bar: https://www.samgabrielvo.com

Lastly, if any of you want to join a discord server filled with Owl House fanfic writers, feel free to join The Owl Trust and Luz's Fanfic Folder. If the previous links didn't work, then you can paste the appropriate URL into your address bar.
The Owl Trust: https://discord.gg/E6dmkAUXVu
Luz's Fanfic Folder: https://discord.gg/STTd9bFd9G