13. Ben
“You were difficult to find,” my father said.
The dream I’d been waiting for was made by a surrealist. Bursts of color surrounded us, hazy and out of focus, leaving Liam Evenstar the only solid figure around. I didn’t dare look down.
He was younger than I expected, wearing a navy button-down and slacks. He’d died dressed for work, as he’d been in a wreck one ordinary afternoon when I was barely more than a toddler. A tragedy in any person’s life, but doubly so when it was the event that’d forced my mom to seek out Garroway for a private loan.
The rest, as they say, was history.
I felt bad. I didn’t know anything about this man except that I somewhat resembled him. Yet I needed him to acknowledge me as his heir so some of the Evenstar family magic could flow into me. Sure, it was based off of a wild hunch, but one Jordan and Wren grew more certain about every time they tested the weirdness of Cress’s jumbled-up magic.
“I was starting to wonder if you were even looking,” I said with an awkward little laugh.
Liam grimaced in return. Seemed like I wasn’t the only one who was feeling off about this meeting. “Of course I was,” he replied. “I was at peace in the next life until your mother found me and told me everything you’d shared with her.”
“Oh, um, sorry about that.”
He gripped my shoulder. In this dream, at least, he was more solid than a ghost. “I know this is uncomfortable, but I need you to know…you deserve better than what life has dealt you. When I was alive, I meant to give you and your brother the world. Now, all I can do is gift you the power to take it instead.”
That was all the preamble we had before golden light haloed his form. Raw power and knowledge flowed through him into me, and it was about as pleasant as molten lava coursing through my veins and head. But the pain faded to memory: his memories and emotions and intentions.
Liam knew how much I needed aid and at least a cursory understanding of celestial magic. I needed to properly use the staff that was my inheritance, Evening Guidance. And I was suddenly sure that I could if it were possible to suppress or supplant my blood affinity.
Once the urgency between us faded, I opened my eyes and drew my father in for a hug. “Before you go, won’t you tell me more about you?” I asked, unsure if I would see him in another dream. He deserved to go back to a peaceful slumber while I used the gift he’d just given me.
“Of course,” he said. The abstract colors around us solidified. He and I sat before a campfire in his favorite park, roasting sausages and marshmallows.
I woke after hours of conversation with a huge smile on my face. That was my dad. His power and knowledge settled in my mind like I was always supposed to have Evenstar light just under the surface of my skin.
Cress was just starting to stir from where she was snugly pressed to my side. “Guess what, babe,” I whispered excitedly. “I met my dad. I wish you could’ve as well.”
Her answering look was bittersweet. “I wish I could’ve met him too,” she said.
I refused to let sadness into this moment. “Sure, he’s gone…but it was amazing that he could visit with me for a night.”
I kissed her until she stopped frowning. We got ready together in our small shared space with growing familiarity and went up to breakfast, where we saw Geo running face-first into the one usage of the Internet he didn’t understand.
He was his stone form, coming down to greet us after a night of standing guard. Wren pointed the camera of her phone at him. “Ladies and gentlemen, our resident gargoyle has arrived. This obsidian giant has kept us protected as we continue to fight back here in Cerris City,” she narrated aloud.
“Hello?” Geo gritted, still confused about what she was trying to do.
Grace and her body camera had inspired Wren. Without any useful magic to fight, she had turned to playing in the court of public opinion. Since her ex-family had not spoken a word on our behalf, she streamed everything safe to share about what we were doing in the library and beyond. Thousands of strangers could be watching right now as we ate breakfast and planned.
We’d taken out three more of the greater unnaturals since the Jellywalker’s death, but not without cost. One of our fae protectors had died, while another had joined Aurora last night in the hospital for intensive care. We’d only gained one fighter in return with Grace, who’d revealed that she was a mountain lion shifter, while her teammate, Tish, was her support woman.
Tish was a tiny young woman with a lavender-colored pixie cut and wide, haunted eyes. She was a hybrid of some kind, with a soul that moved like a shifter’s but ears that came to small, fae-like points.
She was hard at work typing away on a laptop while taking distracted bites of dry cereal. An apparent tech genius, she’d jumped in with enthusiasm and gotten Wren’s stream and social media accounts set up to not only boost our message that there was still hope inside Cerris City, but also to gain some visibility for the unnatural hunting team she and Grace represented.
That was why those two were here, after all. They were chasing internal points with their unnatural hunting organization, Chaos Inc., by killing the unnaturals here. Apparently there were several more teams that’d chosen to enter Cerris City of their own volition through the only way still open: an ocean gate.
That the ocean gate was still operating despite the fae magic that’d shut down Cerris City was a ticking time bomb, but one we handed off to Madigan and our other senior leadership. They were the ones to decide how we would use the knowledge. If we abandoned ship now, there were still hundreds of unaccounted for people out there that we’d be leaving to the monsters. But it could be used to usher out the civilians that’d already been saved.
Until a decision was made, we were all very careful not to mention the ocean gate when Wren had the stream rolling. We didn’t want the mer to catch wind of it and shut it down.
I still thought the unnatural hunters were incredibly stupid to chase imaginary clout competing for a prize they might not escape the pocket dimension to see. My stay in Cerris City had made me a pessimist, sure as anything.
Tish bounced in her chair with an excited coo. “A hundred-dollar donation,” she gasped, and Wren forced a big smile and thanked the generous soul.
I exchanged a glance with Cress, sure we were beyond the place where money could help, yet the stream donations were flowing in the absence of anything else from the outside world.
The only thing that might shift the landscape of the war we were in was more power…something we would experiment with tonight.
Ben’s father chose a good day to visit him, as our fights ended with Leona calling for a break in a breakdown of frustration. A corrupted dimensional used its magic to teleport away once we opened his containment room, a flub Wren caught on camera. I felt for Leona, who took the embarrassment personally, as she’d overlooked this ability of his while briefing us.
It was our first true failure in a long string of successful fights, and she wasn’t the only one carrying the weight of defeat. Wren shut off the stream with a quick fumble when Leona began to yell and Jonah rushed over to talk her down. “It’s been a really stressful time. We just need a rest,” he said.
It gave us a chance to slip away that evening without being questioned. I met Wren, Jordan, and Ben in Braza’s chamber. Jordan carried a bag to this meeting and began pulling out ritual implements while I went up to the powercore.
I reached for it, and Braza reached back, pulling me into the inner chamber of the powercore, where she stood in her dimensional form. She was made of the same purple and black material as the sphere we stood within, as the powercore was her soul and this space was where she could manifest as a shadow of herself.
I drew her into a hug and held her slightly squishy self, letting her snuggle close to my warmth. She was petite compared to Phaeron, about as tall as I was, with forward-facing horns and bat wings.
“Do you think this ritual is going to work?” I asked her.
Despite how young and soft her features were, she answered with the same air of wisdom as always. “It is a gamble and a guess, as it was to put your family’s whole might into your handbook. The side effects of that decision have led to a leakage of light into your librarian affinity already. Perhaps the ritual will bolster you and Ben and somehow you will both become hybrid witches in a world that’s never seen the like.”
Jordan and Wren, both more experienced in this kind of ritual, thought that would happen too. “I’m just worried it will go all wrong,” I admitted.
She blew out a sigh and took hold of my shoulders with a serious expression. “The worst is still possible, brightest of souls. Most who choose one path and are given an ancestral magic of another do not get to choose both because one never answers to their will. And there are books recording the celestial attunement ritual stripping potential hybrids of their non-celestial affinity. That is a trauma that can damage you down to your soul.”
“I remember you mentioning that when my mother’s ghost wanted to give me everything directly,” I said, biting my lip on a surge of nerves.
“Unlike that situation, I believe you should still attempt the ritual. Your magic feels different, and your anam cara will be taking the same risk as you. If ever there was a setup for successful hybrid witches, it is this.” Her hold dropped to my hands, and we both squeezed. “If you remain a librarian witch at all, I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh?”
She nodded, releasing me and inclining one horn toward where I’d left my friends. “Your ritual awaits. I shall tell you later,” she said.
With one reassuring look, I stepped out of the powercore. I’d learned that Braza was lonely in her afterlife, and I meant to visit with her like that more. While we’d been talking, Jordan had drawn runes in chalk, with three large circles forming a triangle around the outside.
“Over here, dear,” Jordan said, pointing with the nub of chalk toward an empty circle.
Wren and Ben were sitting cross-legged in two of the three large circles, leaving me the third. I settled there and took in the markings in the array. The likeness of the sun and its rays formed some of the runes around my spot, connecting to the moon phases circling Wren and the constellations around Ben. Herbs dusted an offering bowl in the center, along with an unlit candle and three of Ben’s smaller throwing daggers.
“You good?” Wren asked, raising a brow my way.
“Just getting some reassurance that this might work for Ben and me,” I answered honestly, and she gave a little shrug of acknowledgment.
“It’s going to work,” Ben said without a moment of hesitation.
Jordan took a moment to confirm one more time that we wanted to do this before lighting the candle with a stray match. We let Wren speak the Latin incantation for us. We were seeking alignment outside of the new moon, when trios of celestial witches were supposed to meet and perform this ritual. To successfully align, we had to shed a few drops of blood in offering while stating the proper words.
According to Jordan, it was completely normal and even common to align when the moon wasn’t new in modern times, when it was difficult to sit in a circle under the stars with your two witchy besties with how busy our lives could get. I still had my heart in my throat when Wren went first and pricked her thumb, muttering over the bowl as the crimson drops fell. “Lunae maiestas.” Majesty of the moon.
Ben was next, his confidence starting to show its cracks as he blew out an unsteady breath. He added his blood to the bowl. “Magicae stellae,” he said. Magic of the stars.
They turned to me expectantly as I lifted the last clean blade and poised my hand over the bowl. My fingers were shaking. In two simple words and a few drops of blood, we’d see how this ritual would end up working for us. I drew a steading breath and poked my thumb. “Potentia solis.” Power of the sun.
What I’d already harnessed with the Sun Surge I’d cast from Evening Guidance. The same light I held each time I cast Lux and Luminaire. The kind of heat I felt mounting in my chest as Wren seized my hand and I fumbled for Ben’s as I started to sweat.
She closed out the ritual with one last phrase. I focused on my breathing and the runes around us. The chalk turned colors…black around Wren, silver for Ben, and gold for me. A sign of success as I rode out the sensation of the worst heartburn of my life.
Ben was grinning, flexing his hands with anticipation. “You don’t feel hot?” I asked.
It was Jordan’s fingers that landed on my forehead first. “You have too much magic in you. Try this.” She had me hold out my hand and cast a power-level-one celestial spell, Lumen. My palm heated and projected a gentle flashlight-level of brightness.
I gaped at it as the heat within me calmed over the duration I held the spell, which was easily canceled by shaking out my hand. “It worked,” I said with a little disbelieving laugh. “Quick, teach Ben a level-one spell!”
I felt a soft probe of my awareness. “And even better news, you are still a librarian,” Braza told me privately while Ben learned to throw off sparks by snapping his fingers.
We laughed and hugged, and I think Wren hid a little teary moment when she successfully swirled motes of moonlight around her fingertips. She covered her mouth with one hand and took up her scepter with the other, lighting it with a glow of soft silver.
“It’s so easy,” she whispered.
“Will you tell me your idea now?” I asked Braza.
“Very soon, brightest of souls. The hour grows late, and you must practice with one magic before I empower the other.” She projected a sensation of pride. “You are one of the strongest witches I have had the chance to witness in my time. No wonder you are fated to my prince.”