Chapter 9 #2
We clinked glasses and drank. The mead tasted like honey and sunshine, with a hint of something wild and ancient. Warmth spread through my chest as a shimmering bubble formed above my glass, expanding until it was the size of a dinner plate.
Inside my bubble, a scene played out—my shop on its opening day, the moment I'd cut the ribbon and knew, finally, that I belonged somewhere.
Around the table, everyone's bubbles displayed different scenes. Ivy's showed her greenhouse, plants dancing around her in a swirl of green. Rafe's revealed the moment he'd proposed to Ivy, surrounded by fireflies. Mac's bubble contained a fishing trip with his father from decades ago.
"Look at Sam's," Zelda stage-whispered, pointing shamelessly.
Sam's bubble showed a midnight forest clearing bathed in silver moonlight. Wolf-Sam ran joyfully with his pack, weaving between trees with perfect coordination. The memory radiated peace and belonging.
Sam shifted uncomfortably as everyone watched. "It was a good run," he muttered, ears reddening.
"It's beautiful," I said softly.
He met my eyes, something vulnerable in his gaze. "Your shop looks nice. Opening day?"
I nodded, surprised he'd recognized it. "The first time I felt like I belonged somewhere."
As our eyes held, something strange happened. My bubble drifted toward Sam's, their edges touching, then merging. The combined bubble grew larger, its contents shifting.
"That's not supposed to happen," Zelda whispered, leaning forward.
Inside the merged bubble, a new scene formed—not a memory, but something else. Sam and I stood back-to-back in a clearing, hands joined. Light spiraled around us as we faced a shadowy figure.
"Is that—" I began.
"A possibility," Sam finished, looking as stunned as I felt.
The bubble popped suddenly, showering us with harmless sparks.
"Fascinating," Zelda murmured, scribbling notes on a napkin. "The magical pair dynamics are stronger than I thought."
Through the window behind her, I noticed the sky darkening. Purple clouds gathered with unnatural speed, swirling directly above the cottage.
"Uh, guys?" I pointed toward the window. "I don't think those are rain clouds."
Everyone turned as lightning flashed—not white, but deep violet—illuminating the strange formation centered perfectly over Zelda's home.
"Well," Mac said dryly, "I guess The Collector got our party invitation."
* * *
Sam's wolf senses detected the danger before the others. The hair on his arms stood up, skin prickling with static electricity as the scent of ozone and something darker—ancient magic with a metallic tang—filled the air.
"Everyone down!" he shouted, lunging across the table.
The windows exploded inward, sending crystalline shards flying through the room like deadly confetti. Sam tackled Delilah to the floor as Fat Bastard yowled and disappeared under the couch. The other cats vanished in blurs of fur.
A woman floated through the shattered window frame, silver hair whipping around her face in a wind that affected nothing else. Her feet never touched the ground as she surveyed the room with eyes that shifted between violet and black.
"How convenient—you've done all the hard work of finding it for me," she said, her voice like silk over steel. "I do love efficient adversaries."
With a casual flick of her wrist, everyone except Sam and Delilah froze mid-motion—Zelda with her hands raised for a defensive spell, Mac reaching for his leaning toward the ground to access his earth power, Ivy and Rafe in protective stances.
They remained conscious but immobile, like insects trapped in amber.
"What did you do to them?" Delilah demanded, struggling to her feet beside Sam.
The witch smiled. "Time-suspension spell. Don't worry, they'll be fine. Well, until I decide they won't be."
Sam felt the change coming, welcomed it. His teeth sharpened, nails extending into claws as he positioned himself between Delilah and the intruder. "You're The Collector's witch."
"How reductive," she sighed, floating closer to the orb still sitting on the table. "I prefer 'acquisitions specialist.' And you must be the magical pair everyone's talking about. The shifter and the seer. How disappointingly... traditional."
Sam's enhanced vision caught something strange—a darker shadow behind the witch, massive and formless, seeming to connect to her like puppet strings. It vanished when he focused directly on it.
"What do you want with the orb?" Delilah asked, her hand finding Sam's arm.
"Want? Oh, I'm just picking up what belongs to my employer." The witch gestured toward the orb. "The Eye of Cassandra is merely one piece of a much larger puzzle. A puzzle you two are apparently destined to disrupt."
She snapped her fingers, and the shadows in the room deepened, pooling unnaturally on the floor before rising into vaguely humanoid shapes with too-long limbs and fingers like knives.
"I'd love to stay and chat about your adorable memory bubbles and touching connection, but I have a schedule to keep." The witch's hand closed around the orb. "My shadows will keep you company. They're quite friendly—if you don't mind being torn to shreds."
Sam's transformation accelerated, muscles rippling beneath his skin as the partial shift took hold. He growled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest.
"I've never been good at playing with others," he snarled, "but I make an exception for Delilah."
The witch's eyebrows rose. "How sweet. But ultimately futile."
As she turned to leave, Sam caught it again—that massive shadow behind her, momentarily visible as it seemed to pull at her, directing her movements like a marionette. The witch's expression flickered briefly to one of pain before settling back into smug confidence.
The shadow creatures surged forward, their forms shifting and stretching as they advanced.
"Any ideas?" Sam asked, pressing his back against Delilah's.
"Just one," she replied, reaching for his hand. "Let's see if those memory bubbles were onto something."
* * *
Delilah's hand found Sam's, their fingers interlocking as the shadow creatures advanced. The moment their skin touched, warmth surged through her arm—not just emotional heat but actual magical energy crackling between them.
"Well, that's new," she muttered, feeling her hair lifting slightly with static electricity.
The first shadow creature lunged, its knife-like fingers slashing toward her face. Sam yanked her sideways, his partial transformation giving him lightning reflexes. His claws tore through the creature, which dissipated into smoke before reforming.
"They can't be killed," Delilah realized, backing against the overturned table. "They're not really here—they're projections."
"Tell that to my claws," Sam growled, showing bloody scratches where one had caught his forearm. "They feel plenty real."
The silver-haired witch floated near the ceiling, watching with detached amusement while cradling the orb. "Oh good, you've figured it out. That will make this so much more interesting."
Zelda's three cats hissed from their hiding places, Fat Bastard particularly vocal from beneath the couch. The sound gave Delilah an idea.
"Sam, they're made of shadow. We need light!"
Understanding flashed across his face. He dove for the lanterns on Zelda's shelf while Delilah grabbed a handful of Zelda's illumination powder from the counter. She tossed it into the air just as a shadow creature wrapped its elongated fingers around her throat.
"Begone, you overdramatic smudge!" she choked out, the powder igniting in a blinding flash.
The creature recoiled, its form wavering. Sam smashed a lantern at the feet of two more, the magical flames spreading in a circle of blue fire that pushed the shadows back temporarily.
"Impressive teamwork," the witch called down. "But ultimately futile. My master has waited centuries for this moment."
There it was again—that darker shadow behind her, massive and formless, briefly visible as it seemed to guide her movements. Delilah tried to focus her clairvoyance on it, but her vision blurred painfully.
"Sam, there's something controlling her!" she shouted.
The witch's face contorted with momentary rage—or was it fear? "Enough games."
She made a slashing motion, and the remaining shadows converged at once. Sam leapt in front of Delilah, taking the full brunt of their attack. His body jerked as shadow-claws tore into him from multiple directions.
"No!" Delilah screamed, her terror manifesting as a pulse of energy that temporarily scattered the shadows.
Sam collapsed to his knees, blood soaking through his shirt in multiple places. His partial transformation receded as his strength waned, leaving him looking painfully human and vulnerable.
The witch descended, orb glowing in her hands. "This is just one piece of a much bigger puzzle, little seer. Too bad your pet wolf won't be around to see what happens next. My master will be pleased. Your little love story has provided exactly the emotional catalyst we needed."
"Who is your master?" Delilah demanded, cradling Sam's head as he slumped against her.
The witch smiled coldly. "You'll meet him soon enough. He's quite the collector of special pairs like yourselves."
For a heartbeat, Delilah saw it clearly—a massive shadow behind the witch, humanoid but wrong somehow, its fingers extending like dark threads into the witch's body. Then it was gone.
The witch vanished in a swirl of purple smoke, taking the orb and her shadow creatures with her. The time-suspension spell broke with an audible pop, sending Zelda, Mac, Ivy, and Rafe stumbling forward.
"Sam!" Mac rushed to them, his face tight with concern.
Zelda was already grabbing potions from her shelves. "Get him on the table. Now!"
Delilah's hands trembled as she stroked Sam's hair, his blood soaking into her clothes. She tried to See his future—something she'd never been able to do for herself but had always been able to do for others.
There was nothing. Just emptiness where his timeline should be.
"Don't you dare," she whispered fiercely. "Don't you dare leave me when I just found you."