Before I can even attempt a spell to get this thing moving toward the far side of the river, the magic circling me now pushes at my back, propelling us across.
I let out a shaky exhale.
Well, that solves that.
It’s only when we’ve reached the center of the river that I have my misgivings.
What in the goddess’s name am I doing? Magic quest or no, I shouldn’t be wandering around in this unfamiliar jungle, letting some mysterious being lure me closer. I don’t even have my notebook, so if I forget my memories from earlier today, I’m F-U-C-K-E-D.
I glance overhead at the afternoon sun.
And if I don’t get back before sundown…
Doubled fucked.
But my intuition isn’t warning me off this trail, and I did find my familiar by listening to it earlier. Technically, this is what a magic quest is—listening to that untamable inner voice that leads all witches.
Nero lunges toward the river, nearly capsizing the boat. Again. I grab the sides of the dinghy for balance while the water near us churns. I hear a crunch, and then the panther is backing up, dragging some writhing thing along with him.
What in the…？
Nero turns toward me, and clamped in his jaws is the biggest motherfucking snake I’ve ever seen, its head and neck hanging lifelessly, even while the rest of its body still spasms.
Ho-ly shit.
“Good boy,” I croak.
He gives me a look like he might eat me next if I treat him like a pet again. He pads back to the middle of the boat and flops down, the huge twitching snake tumbling in along with him.
I grimace.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I feel like we need to go over some boat rules. Rule one—”
Nero sinks his teeth into the creature’s belly.
Going to hurl.
“No eating animals on the boat.”
Ignoring me, the panther continues to chomp on the dead snake.
What am I supposed to do if my familiar doesn’t listen to me? Aren’t familiars supposed to give their undivided loyalty to the witch they’re bonded with?
I take a few deep breaths and decide this is not the hill I want to die on today.
“Fine, ignore boat rules, just don’t get any blood on me—”
I feel something warm and wet hit the back of my hand.
I glare at my familiar—who is still absorbed in his meal. “Don’t make me turn you into a housecat,” I warn him.
He pauses eating to flash me his fangs.
Guess he doesn’t like the idea of that all that much. “Then behave.”
He stares at me for a moment longer, then goes back to eating his nasty snack.
The blue magic pushes us along, and slowly but surely, we cross the river. Overhead, the rest of the magic hangs above us like a contrail, the line of it disappearing into the trees on the approaching side of the riverbank. I swear it looks denser than it did at the crash site.
I can still feel the power pressing against my back, but it’s begun to creep over my shoulders and around my chest, and a strand of it brushes against my jaw, feeling for all the world like the light stroke of knuckles against my skin.
I think it would be better if I found the touch repulsive, but I…don’t, and that leaves me confused.
Eventually, we reach the riverbank. I wait until the dinghy has nearly beached itself on the shore before hopping out with Nero and dragging the boat as far ashore as I can.
Dusting my hands off, I turn to the dark jungle beyond.
Come to me…
I pause. That phantom voice is so much stronger now.
The air around me seems to vibrate. I can feel the magic as though it were alive.
Calling to me. Calling…
I pick my way through the vegetation and the looming lush trees, that insistent pull getting stronger. I stop only when I get to a dense, almost-impassable cluster of foliage.
I’m about to move away from it when I sense…more magic. Only this doesn’t have the same elements as the blue magic above me.
The spell here—and what I’m sensing is a spell, not unspooled magic—is unlike the one pulling me onward. This power is so subtle that I would have missed it if I weren’t looking for magic in the first place.
Now that I am looking right at it, I see the shimmery lines that its spellcasting left behind. Sometimes these can take the shape of writing, but other times, like right now, the spells look like nothing more than glittery string woven together.
This spell, however, is not simply a few magical strings; it’s a whole tapestry. The spells—wards technically—hang in the air like a giant web, one so complex and so intricately wrought that it must’ve taken weeks if not months to create.