Chapter 16 #2
Around them, the battle raged. Sam's massive wolf form tore through shadow creatures, his movements a blur of fur and fangs.
Zelda hurled glowing sigils that exploded on impact while Vic moved with preternatural speed, his fangs bared in a feral grin.
Even Mayor Grimble contributed, his miniaturized hat somehow firing tiny municipal ordinances that exploded like firecrackers.
But Morgana saw none of it. Her gaze remained locked on the mirror, transfixed by her future.
"The thing about collectors," Delilah said, her voice cutting through the chaos, "is that once they have what they want, they tend to discard the packaging."
The mirror shifted again, showing the shadowy figure of the Collector turning away from Morgana, discarding her like a used tissue after extracting the last of her power.
"He wouldn't," Morgana breathed, but doubt had crept into her voice. "I'm his most valuable—"
"Tool?" Delilah finished. "That's all you are to him. A means to an end."
Fat Bastard chose that moment to streak across the battlefield, somehow having followed them despite no one inviting him. The enormous orange cat launched himself at a shadow creature, his battle cry a surprisingly terrifying yowl.
"Even the cat has more agency than you do," Delilah noted.
Morgana's concentration faltered, the ritual's energy fluctuating wildly. The mirror showed one final image—Morgana consumed by the very power she had helped to channel, her body dissolving into the void.
"You're lying!" Morgana snarled, but her hands trembled. "This is just another fortune-teller trick!"
"You know it isn't." Delilah stood her ground. "You've felt it, haven't you? Those moments when he uses your body like a puppet? When you speak words that aren't yours?"
A flash of recognition crossed Morgana's face before she could hide it.
Sam seized the moment of distraction, breaking through the perimeter of shadow creatures. He lunged toward the witch, a blur of muscle and fur, his yellow eyes locked on his target.
"This isn't my fate!" Morgana screamed, hurling a bolt of energy at the mirror.
The bolt bounced off, striking one of the floating artifacts. The delicate balance of the ritual shattered, energy cascading in wild, unpredictable waves.
"That's the thing about fate," Delilah said as Sam closed in. "It's not what happens to you—it's what you choose when faced with the truth."
For just an instant, something like gratitude flickered across Morgana's face before chaos engulfed them all.
* * *
The ritual circle's energy exploded outward in wild, chaotic waves. Delilah dove behind a fallen tree as magical backlash scorched the ground where she'd stood. The mirror-map clutched to her chest continued to pulse with strange energy.
Sam had almost reached Morgana when a fresh wave of shadow creatures materialized between them, their forms twisting unnaturally as they moved. Mac and his shifter team were pinned down on the perimeter, fighting a losing battle against the endless shadows.
"We need a miracle," Delilah muttered, her head pounding with the beginnings of a vision-induced migraine.
A high, theatrical voice rang out from above. "Did someone call for a fabulous intervention?"
Delilah looked up and blinked twice, certain her vision was playing tricks on her. But no—Fabio was descending from the sky, standing proudly atop what appeared to be a giant floating croissant. Behind him flew an armada of baked goods, organized in perfect military formation.
"Cavalry has arrived, darlings!" Fabio's auburn hair whipped dramatically in the wind, flour somehow still dusting his immaculate outfit. "Operation Pastry Assault commences... NOW!"
He raised his arms like a symphony conductor, and the pastries responded to his movements.
"Croissants to the left flank! Muffins provide air support! Danish squadron, engage! Show these shadows the power of proper lamination!"
The shadow creatures paused in apparent confusion as they were suddenly bombarded by aggressive baked goods. A particularly vicious chocolate croissant slammed into a shadow, exploding in a shower of buttery shrapnel and cocoa powder that made the creature dissolve with a hiss.
"The secret is in the butter-to-flour ratio," Fabio explained, swooping lower on his pastry platform. "Emotional magic baked at precisely three hundred and fifty degrees creates the perfect anti-shadow consistency!"
Vic paused mid-battle to stare. "I've been undead for two centuries, and this is still the weirdest thing I've ever seen."
Fabio winked at him. "Flattery will get you everywhere, handsome."
The pastries organized themselves into pairs—donuts flying in tandem, cupcakes coordinating their attacks, macarons moving in perfect synchrony. Each paired attack was exponentially more effective than single pastries, dissolving shadows on contact.
"They're working in pairs!" Delilah shouted to Sam. "Just like everything else we've seen!"
Sam gave a quick nod of understanding before dodging a shadow creature and continuing his advance toward the central artifact.
Mayor Grimble emerged from behind a boulder, his miniature hat now sporting what looked like tiny pastry launchers. "As official municipal baked goods coordinator, I hereby authorize this unconventional tactical deployment!"
"Nobody asked you, sweetie," Fabio called back, directing a squadron of muffins to form a protective barrier around the Mayor anyway.
Elder Thornberry appeared beside Delilah, munching on what appeared to be one of the combat pastries. "When yeast rises with magical intent, shadows fall before breakfast's might!"
"You know," Delilah said, ducking as a cruller whizzed past her head, "that almost made sense."
"I have my moments," Elder Thornberry replied, before disappearing behind a cinnamon roll barrage.
The tide of battle shifted as Fabio's pastries created enough chaos and confusion for their team to advance. Delilah scrambled toward Sam, the mirror-map still clutched in her hands.
"The central artifact!" she called. "It's the lynchpin!"
Sam nodded, his wolf form leaping over a fallen shadow creature. He was nearly at the ritual's heart now, where a glowing crystal orb pulsed with dark energy.
Morgana scrambled to protect it, her silver hair wild around her face. "No! You don't understand what you're interfering with!"
For just a moment, her shadow elongated behind her, forming a shape that wasn't hers—a tall, featureless silhouette with too many limbs.
"Daddy-O!" Fabio called down to Delilah. "The shadow behind her—that's what my gambling contacts warned me about! The one who wears faces!"
"I see it," Delilah called back, her heart racing as Sam closed in on the central artifact.
She had seen many impossible things in her life, but nothing had prepared her for what happened next.
* * *
The shadow behind Morgana elongated further, stretching impossibly tall as Sam lunged for the central artifact. Delilah's heart hammered against her ribs as she raced forward, the mirror-map vibrating in her hands like a living thing.
"Sam!" she called out, her voice nearly lost in the magical chaos.
He turned, yellow eyes locking with hers across the battlefield. "Trust me! Whatever happens, just keep going!"
Delilah nodded, drawing a deep breath as she plunged her hands into the spell matrix surrounding Morgana. The Silver Witch screamed, her perfectly manicured nails clawing at Delilah's intrusion.
"You fool! You'll destroy everything!" Morgana's eyes flashed with panic as the spell began to unravel. "My master will—"
"Your master is using you," Delilah hissed, fingers working through the magical threads like she was untangling Jinxie's yarn collection. "Look at your own future in the mirror!"
Sam's wolf form leaped over a final shadow creature, jaws closing around the pulsing crystal orb. Cracks spread across its surface, light spilling through like liquid sunshine.
"No!" Morgana lunged forward, but too late.
Sam's teeth crunched through the artifact. The sound of shattering crystal rang out with impossible clarity over the battlefield chaos.
Magic exploded outward in concentric rings of raw power. Delilah felt herself lifted off her feet, suspended in a kaleidoscope of energy. The mirror-map melted into pure light between her fingers, reshaping the broken spell matrix into something new.
"This is not what I signed up for!" Vic shouted from somewhere to her left. "Magical apocalypse prevention costs extra!"
Fabio's pastry armada dissolved in the magical wave, raining down sugary shrapnel. "My créations! My beautiful, battle-hardened croissants!"
Elder Thornberry floated past, somehow drinking tea while upside down in the magical vortex. "When magic breaks, it always puts itself back together—just not in the same shape!"
Delilah caught a glimpse of Sam, human again and gloriously naked, tumbling through the air nearby. Their eyes met across the chaos, and despite everything, she couldn't help but laugh.
"If we survive this," she called, "we're going on a proper date!"
"Deal!" he shouted back, somehow managing to look dignified while spinning through magical backlash without clothes.
The energy wave peaked, then collapsed inward with the sound of a thousand wind chimes. Delilah felt herself falling, then landing on something surprisingly soft.
She blinked, looking around in confusion. Where the cursed hollow had been—with its twisted trees and blighted ground—now spread a meadow of wildflowers in every color imaginable. Tiny magical sprites darted between the blooms, leaving trails of sparkling light.
"My hair!" Mayor Grimble's horrified voice cut through the sudden quiet. "It's... it's..."
"Neon green," Mac finished, touching his own equally bright locks with disbelief. "All of us."
Delilah raised a hand to her head, feeling her now electric-green waves. She looked around to see everyone—Zelda, Fabio, Vic, the shifters, even Elder Thornberry—sporting the same shocking color.
"I don't know," Fabio said, examining his reflection in a compact mirror. "It's rather avant-garde. I could start a trend."
Near the center of the new meadow, Morgana Blackthorn lay bound in chains made from her own spell components, her silver hair now a lurid green that clashed horribly with her complexion.
"It's over," Sam said, accepting Mac's offered jacket to cover himself as he approached Delilah. His hair stood up in green spikes, making him look like a punk rocker from the 80s.
Delilah opened her mouth to agree when she felt it—a distant flare of magic so powerful it made her gasp. It pulsed once, impossibly strong, then vanished before she could identify its source.
"Did you feel that?" she whispered.
Sam nodded, his expression grim despite their victory. "Something much bigger than her."
"The Collector," Delilah murmured, looking at the bound witch. "This was just one piece of a larger plan."
Mayor Grimble approached, straightening his tiny hat over his green hair. "By the power vested in me, I hereby declare this location the official Wolfe-Hart Victory Garden, complete with commemorative plaque!"
Delilah and Sam exchanged looks, both fighting smiles despite the ominous magical signature they'd felt.
"Wolfe-Hart," Sam repeated quietly. "Has a nice ring to it."