Chapter 9
Since the Celestial Coven wouldn’t be so quickly undone, I spent all my working hours disarming more hidden traps inside Winston Cobalt’s inner core.
Eventually, I managed to find some not-so-useful memories on fragmented missions he’d taken part in, but only through blurry images, faded whispers, and eerie sensations crawling up my spine.
This mind remained too jumbled, too bound for me to make full sense of it yet.
What I did manage to piece together was that it turned out the Celestial Coven incited warfare in nations through subtle nudging, pushing places onto the precipice of war when it benefited them.
There were also memories of Winston’s childhood floating about, but knowing whether or not he had a tough life wouldn’t change what I needed to do.
I needed to break open his mind, shatter all the unnecessary pieces, and find intel on the Celestial Coven’s movements.
So, I worked and tinkered and toiled away for hours and days at a time.
All the while, to keep my mind sharp, I allowed my telepathy to wander the city.
It trailed my former homeroom coven students, tracking their progress during their internships.
Yaritza, Jamius, and Melanie were the first minds I found myself drawn to.
They were most displeased with the direction their internship had taken.
While Enchanter Ortiz recovered, he prioritized his guild paperwork, which meant his interns spent their days locked away in his office sorting case files, running around to get signatures, and organizing a chaotic system that made Milo’s mess look half decent.
It put me at ease. They’d done impressive work, and now they could bask in the bureaucracy for a bit before returning to the field.
“What kind of actual garbage is this?” Gael’s voice rang so loudly, I found my telepathy drawn to his tantrum on the other side of the city.
King Clucks crowed with disapproval while Gael studied a weird ball connected to a chain and eyed his mentor, whose smile he found grating.
Enchanter Diaz towered over Gael, standing tall above all his interns at 6’6. Despite Gael’s attitude, Diaz didn’t let it shake his smile, though his bear, Priscilla, obviously didn’t care for the comment. She snarled, swatting a paw at the air.
Name: Emiliano Diaz
Branch: Bestial (Familiar)
“It’s called a meteor hammer,” Diaz said with his thick southern drawl. “They’re quite fascinating weapons. A personal favorite of mine.”
“Fine, let’s trade,” Gael insisted.
“Well, when you decide to pay the fees for a license to wield an enchanted weapon, you can pick it, but since I’m gracious enough to foot the bill for you three, perhaps you can be grateful.”
“Wow.” Gael stared slack-jawed for a moment. “Talk about emotional manipulation. Guilting me for something I never asked for. Expecting gratitude for a so-called gift. I see through your games.”
Gael’s tactless commentary continued even as the bear glared in his direction. In fact, King Clucks joined in with a puffed chest as if the tiny bird could do a thing against a thousand-pound beast.
The audacity.
“I gotta agree with Gael,” Tiffany said, partially in truth.
She hated giving Gael credit, mainly because the pair was in their ex’s mode and had no casual conversations about dating again.
The two were off and on depending on the day of the week.
“I wanted something cool, like a sword. Instead, I get a staff? What am I? Five?”
Her beaver grunted.
Name: Tiffany Sparks
Branch: Bestial (Familiar)
“Exactly,” Tiffany continued, twirling a blonde pigtail with one hand and the staff with her other. “This is some basic, boring bitch stuff right here. I wanna cut a fool, not thwack them.”
“I don’t know.” Wesley shrugged, holding his batons while talking to his familiar, swimming inside a small fishbowl. “Moo-Moo and I like our weapons.”
Name: Wesley Monte
Branch: Bestial (Familiar)
It was a yellow fish with white spots and odd little horns on its head. The most interesting—or disturbing—part was how the fish kept the portable aquarium enclosure afloat through precise telekinesis.
“Of course you do, you got batons,” Gael said. “I should have batons but with razor blades.”
Wesley grimaced and stepped away from Gael, while his fish familiar floated alongside him.
Wesley had a deep, dark brown complexion, complemented by the bright yellow suit he wore.
Not only did it match his familiar’s yellow tone, but it also made him stand out in comparison to his fellow interns who didn’t dress so formally.
Gael wore jeans and a shirt, while Tiffany kept it casual with an oversized blouse and miniskirt.
Apparently, Wesley’s familiar continued pressuring him to dress to impress.
Based on his surface thoughts, it was easy enough to determine the familiar was a cowfish—hence the absurd name, no doubt.
A truly bizarre-looking ocean animal. It never ceased to impress me the strange beasts that’d latch themselves to a witch.
I bet it was a hassle having to constantly acquire saltwater and maintain aquariums for the fish, but at least it could telekinetically move its own fishbowl around.
Suddenly, Ben’s dog, Sheamus, didn’t seem like such a headache.
“Just so we’re clear, a meteor hammer is one of the coolest and most complex weapons in the world,” Diaz said, gesturing to Gael’s weapon.
“It’s a ball on a chain. What, am I practicing for marriage?” Gael started twirling round and round with little regard for his surroundings. “How complicated can—”
A sudden whoosh sent the metal ball crashing into the back of Gael’s head.
Tiffany stood tensely with her hands raised in front of her face. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. It almost hit me.”
“It did hit me,” Gael screamed.
It was clear he picked his interns based on their branch magic, but he underestimated how challenging Gael would be as an intern.
If I had to guess, I’d say he wanted to prepare these students in a way that the world never did for him.
Diaz had lost his familiar partner twice.
Once as a child and again as an acolyte.
It was a horror he carried with him on every mission with his bear, Priscilla.
While he’d healed a lot over the years, the loss and grief would never leave his heart.
“That’s it, I’d like to file a formal complaint with your superior.” Gael tossed the meteor hammer onto the ground. “This is unacceptable.”
Diaz quirked a brow.
Most of Gael’s petulant behavior came from the massive chip he still had on his shoulder because Milo hadn’t picked him as an intern.
In his mind, Gael believed Diaz ruined it, interfered, and was nothing but a knockoff version of his favorite enchanter.
It didn’t seem to matter to Gael that Diaz had ten more years’ worth of industry experience or a higher ranking in the Global Guild.
It didn’t matter that his branch and behavior were perfectly suited for Gael.
Nope. All he cared about was the fact that he despised Enchanter Diaz and would let him know it at every opportunity.
“I clearly need a new mentor.” Gael folded his arms and huffed. “I suppose, under these circumstances, I can settle for, say, switching to Enchanter Evergreen’s team. I hear he still has openings.”
“No.” Diaz shook his head. “Evergreen’s all filled up.”
“No,” Gael corrected. “He only has one intern. Transfer me immediately.”
“If you don’t want to be my intern, I can’t make you.” Diaz shrugged with a sad sigh, beleaguered and intentionally dramatized. “I suppose I’ll let Mrs. Whitehurst know you’ve decided to quit the program and complete your studies without the internship portion.”
“Wait, what?” Gael widened his eyes. “No. Absolutely, not. I never said that.”
“I mean, if you don’t want to stay, there’s no alternative,” Diaz said. “All mentors have been assigned. Maybe they can find you someone else who is willing to take on an intern who quits after just the first week, but I don’t know. Quite the gamble. I don’t believe in gambling, though.”
“Ba-ba-bawk.”
“Shut up, Clucks, we’re not betting my future just because you like gambling.” Gael shot his familiar an icy stare. After a brief moment of contemplation and utter fear, Gael faked a bright smile. “Upon further reflection, I suppose I can stick it out.”
He picked up his meteor hammer off the ground and carefully twirled it. Diaz shot Gael a huge grin. Maybe the enchanter knew more about handling mischievous class clowns than I realized.
I chuckled a bit as I worked and allowed my telepathy to drift elsewhere.
While working in the Global Guild facility, the operations teleported to a new location.
It regularly changed coordinates at an unspecified time and an undetermined place in Chicago.
Making it unpredictable helped keep threats from tracking it.
That said, the sudden shift twisted my telepathy around.
It remained outstretched through the entire city, but with my location suddenly altered, I ended up bombarded by thoughts.
“Fuck,” I hissed, searching for something to ground me.
Milo.
Gah, his mind always had such a soothing wavelength. It kept me afloat. It steered me away from the chaos. It brought me peace during turbulence. Currently, he was being absolutely ridiculous. Instead of working on any of his cases, he’d dragged his intern with him for some photo op.
They each wore matching gray suits, though Gael had his jacket and shirt specially tailored to be sleeveless, while augmenting the location of most of his spikes to his hands and arms. It gave him a much more threatening appearance, keeping his spikes larger and more centralized on his limbs and face.
It also helped that he was a few inches taller than Milo, who was six-foot-two himself.
Gael’s shark-like teeth beamed despite the cameraman repeatedly instructing him to tone down the smile.
“Sorry.” Gael grinned, big and goofy and still buzzing with enthusiasm.