A black-browed female mallemuck unleashed a cackle as she dipped through a patch of cloud hovering above Águila Islet, an island five hundred miles north of Antarctica. The bird landed clumsily upon the only spot of earth not blanketed by snow and promptly spouted water from her beak. Hobbling back and forth, the mallemuck flapped her wings anxiously, and though capable, the bird did not immediately take flight.

“What’s that you brought me?” a raspy voice sounded from close by.

The mallemuck leaped backward, screeching in fright, beady eyes concentrating on the figure emerging from behind a boulder.

“Easy, love.” The man wore tanned animal skins, and his salt-crusted hair hung about his gaunt face in ratted clumps. The patch over his right eye bulged to a point beneath his brow, while his left eye barely peeked out from a sunburned lid. A slew of freshly scabbed wounds pocked his bare feet.

The bird launched upward, beating her wings against the wind before settling once more upon the ground.

“Steady now.” The man extended a hand toward the frightened creature. “You can’t have flown all this way to just tuck off without no more than a squawk.”

He sprung upon the mallemuck, pinning her to the ground with his powerful hands. As she struggled against him, the man’s deft fingers slipped beneath her left wing, unlatching a wooden tube.

“Thought you were acting odd.” He pried a tiny lid from one end of the tube, and the mallemuck jabbed her beak into the man’s thumb. The man paid no attention despite the thin stream of blood seeping from the wound.

The bird wriggled free of his grasp but still refused to fly away.

Eyeballing the creature curiously, the man unrolled the unexpectedly long message.

Steffan Musk,

Based upon your good behavior, the terms of your Banishment will be lifted temporarily for one week of freedom. Compliments of B.R.E.W.’s newest Chamber President.

Steffan scowled, his single eye narrowing to a slit.

“Week of freedom?” he asked gruffly. Seeing how his Banishment had been a life sentence, that made little sense. And what good behavior had he done to garner such leniency?

Consider this an opportunity to travel to balmier climates or make a quick pit stop to nearby civilization to gather much-needed supplies. Surely someone of your expertise could benefit from a cauldron and an inventory of fresh ingredients.

However, should you feel the itching for immediate work, I am in need of some hired help. Perhaps you and I might collaborate once more for old time’s sake. I, in turn, shall reward you by ending your Banishment for good.

This message couldn’t be real. Flipping over the parchment, he read the scrawling signature written in purple ink at the end of the letter.

“Mezzarix Rook,” Steffan muttered. “What are you playing at, you sly fox?”

Mezzarix had always been ambitious, with lofty aspirations of seizing power over the potion-making community, but the old fool had been banished a year before Steffan had. And now he had somehow escaped and become the Chamber President of B.R.E.W.?

“You expect me to believe this?” Steffan asked the bird, crinkling the paper in his fingers.

The mallemuck responded with a piercing cry.

Flipping the message over once more, he continued reading.

I expect you’ll find it difficult to believe me at first. For that reason, I’m giving you twenty-four hours to ponder the terms of our agreement. After that, you’ll feel the binding cords of your Banishment unravel. Then you shall have one week to spend as you wish—either lazily relaxing on holiday or venturing north to join me.

You and I shared a vision once. A vision of chaos. The world we live in has been hampered for far too long by those who have never known of our greatness. I stand at the precipice, on the verge of realizing my Manifesto, and I have chosen you to be there with me. I hope you will accept my offer.

To help with your decision, I’ve also sent you a gift. Just say the magic word: Upsy-daisy.

Steffan scowled as he scanned the ground in search of Mezzarix’s present. There didn’t appear to be anything else strapped to the bird.

“Upsy-daisy?” he mumbled.

The mallemuck immediately began to gag as if it had swallowed an enormous acorn. Baffled, Steffan watched as the bird writhed and wriggled. Something dislodged from its throat, and it spat out a slender piece of wood from its beak.

“What the devil?” Steffan recoiled in disgust.

The mallemuck shook its head, dazed.

Steffan snatched up the bird and crammed it into the pouch attached at his waist. The mallemuck squawked in protest, but Steffan ignored its cries. He knelt down to examine the object.

“Is this what I think it is?” It certainly looked as though it possessed the necessary chemically enhanced runes carved into the wood. But how on earth had Mezzarix come into possession of such a thing? They were only used by the upper echelon of B.R.E.W. Maybe he really was the new Chamber President. The thought was enough to make Steffan’s head explode.

Be careful how you wield it, as its effects are irreversible. And while I’m sure you have a long list of enemies, I’m giving this gift to you with the hope you will use it on targets we both can agree upon.

It had been several years since Steffan had thought of confronting his enemies. Lifetime Banishments had a way of dulling the senses, but now he felt a sudden burning hatred ignite within his heart. This was his chance for freedom and revenge. Clasping the weapon in his hand, he could feel the dangerous power coursing through the wood.

Lip curling into a snarl, Steffan turned to head toward his shelter. Though his supply was limited, there were a few vials and ingredients he needed to gather before he embarked on his journey.

He felt the soft fluttering of the mallemuck’s wings from inside his pouch, and his stomach gurgled, reminding him of his hunger. Then he realized there was still one final paragraph remaining of Mezzarix’s message.

I do hope you have held off butchering the poor bird that delivered this gift to you. She has been charged with gathering a few more necessities for you in the days to come—potions and ingredients that will help speed you on your journey. Be gentle with her as she will do this task willingly. And she will be your guide to your destination, so take care of her. It is a big ocean, my friend. I would hate for you to lose your way.

Steffan groaned in annoyance. Most birds he encountered on his island had too sharp of instincts to be caught without a fight. This one had been practically hand-delivered to his doorstep.

Now what was he supposed to eat?