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I saw it in my sleep, the world crashing down. The day turned into night, and a fiery ring lit up before my eyes.
The sky cracked open, revealing the secrets behind it: an entire universe much different from mine. My eyes burned, the view became blurry, but the voices? I heard them all. Countless beasts growling, hissing, and trumpeting. They terrified me.
There was no escape, and if I didn’t fight, I’d fall.
But I couldn’t fight.
I lost control.
I fell down the high mountain.
I never remembered how the dream ended. Did I die? Or was I saved by a miracle? But every time, it would leave me gasping.
"Have you reviewed the files I sent you?" Grandpa’s voice startled me awake. I realized I had fallen asleep at my desk again, and the wood had given me a painful red line on the forehead.
"Wh-what files?" I quickly dumped the book in front of me in the drawer. I didn’t want Grandpa to see me reading The Lore of Rituals.
"From the age discrimination case," he said. "I want to hear your insights."
"Oh. I’ll get to them as soon as I can."
Grandpa regarded me with his eyes half-closed. That was the look he used while questioning witnesses in court, so it made me uncomfortable. "You’ve been overworking yourself lately."
"Third year is tough." I managed a grin. I could play lawyer all I wanted, but when it came to Grandpa, I’d turn into an anxious child.
"Yes, yes. Third year," he sighed. "Speaking of which, why did you drop out of college, Echo?"
I swallowed dry. Two days before, I had submitted my withdrawal request to the school administration office. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you."
"Is this all you have to say for yourself?"
"What am I supposed to say?" I paused. "I got overwhelmed, so I decided to take a break and re-enroll next year."
"Did you consider the consequences of your choices?" He sounded hurt.
"I never meant to disappoint you, Grandpa."
"Too late for that, don’t you think?"
Ever since Grandpa lost his son, he had been dreaming of the day I would graduate from Law School and take over the firm. It was his and my father’s legacy, and he wanted to pass it down to me, especially since Tara chose a different life and became a pianist. I should’ve considered that before I dropped out, but for almost three months, I had been on an emotional roller coaster—getting dumped, meeting my niece, learning about my mother. I needed space to process it all. If I happen to survive the war with Jivar, I might go back to college, or I might not.
***
I went to the pet store, hoping to find some peace of mind. Walking in, I sidestepped a customer leaving. "Thank you for coming." Ebba waved him goodbye.
"I see you’re doing a good job."
"I’m a working woman now." Ebba closed the cash register. She seemed more upbeat than usual. "You did something to me, Echo," she said. "Back in the oasis when you did that spell."
"How so?" I was intrigued.
"I feel different." She smiled. "Good different."
"Well, I don’t know if my spell did anything."I gave a casual shrug. "But I’m happy you’re happy."
I remembered when I cast that spell. For a second, I glimpsed into Ebba’s thoughts and felt her deep sorrow, but I didn’t give it much thought, and I didn’t think my spell could impact her. Nevertheless, I was glad she was doing better.
"Echo is gonna die." Kirby’s voice was the first thing I heard when I entered the living room. He, Vanna, and Cona sat around the round table. The smell of incense lingered in the air.
"I’m gonna what?"
"Don’t listen to him, Echo," Cona said. "He’s always been whiny."
"I’m not whiny." He grabbed a book and read: "Recreation Magic is used to restore the natural state of things, to heal wounds and cleanse hexes." He put the book down. "In other words, it’s the magic of kissing boo-boos. If we’re stuck with it, you’re gonna die."
Vanna remained as calm as always. "Recreation Magic is one of the purest forms of magic, although it’s not for warriors."
"But Echo is more than a warrior," Cona interrupted. "She is the chosen witch; she’s supposed to be special. So why should she define herself by her grimoire? Some rules don’t apply to the chosen one."
"That’s true," Vanna said. "Remember the Sun Strike, Echo? The attack you used in Ersert La Tari. That required the mastery of Fire Magic. According to the rules, you shouldn’t have been able to do it."
"Oh." My mouth opened.
"Oh, what?" Kirby asked.
"The Sun Strike..." I hesitated to finish my sentence.
"It was Dark Magic, wasn’t it?" His eyes widened.
A dazed look appeared on Cona’s face. "Echo, have you been practicing the dark arts?"
Everyone waited for my answer. My feet tapped on the floor. Even though it was a cold day in March, sweat crawled down my forehead. "Only basic stuff." I paused. "I’m not strong enough to fight Jivar, okay? No matter how hard I work, I can’t match up to him. But Dark Magic is different... It’s powerful."
"Have you sold your soul to the devils?" Cona asked, looking horrified.
"No, no." I gestured for her to calm down. "I don’t think I need to. It comes-It comes naturally to me."
"This is the devil’s work," Cona said.
"I disagree," Vanna broke in. "I don’t think using Dark Magic is a bad idea."
"Are you kidding me, Vanna?" Kirby exploded. "You of all people know how appealing the dark side can be."
"Echo is strong enough to control her magic."
"Don’t spoil her with these ideas."
"I’m not waiting for your permission, Kirby," I yelled. The three stared at me. "I have already decided. If Dark Magic is going to help me fight Jivar, so be it. I’m sick of being a superhero with no special powers. Worst comic book ever."
***
I needed some time by myself, but I had to watch Doyle that day. So I took off his ball and chain and dragged him along to Oracles Park, where everything in my life went awry.
We marched along, our hands shoved in our pockets and our eyes staring at the cobbled walkway. "I’m surprised you asked me to join you," he said. "Do you realize that if I want to escape, you won’t be able to stop me?"
"Go ahead," I said. "Where are you going to go?"
"I see your point."
We sat on an empty bench from where we watched the blooming daffodils and the birds singing on the trees. The bitter winter was finally coming to an end.
I don’t remember what went through my mind or why I needed to say this, but I found myself opening up to Doyle. "Every night, I see myself on the battlefield," I said. "Falling off a mountain, that’s how I die."
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, expressionless.
"It’s called small talk." My face flushed with embarrassment, which he noticed.
"All right." His gaze shifted to the grass under his feet. It had been worn down by the winter, but slowly, it was growing green. "Does it scare you?"
"It saddens me." I sighed. "It reminds me that I have never really lived. There are many things I have never seen. What if I died before I see them?"
"What would you like to see?"
"All kinds of crazy things. Magical things." I paused. "I want to see a sky full of, umm, fish." I tittered at my silly words. "I know it doesn’t exist, but I want to see it."
Doyle listened intently. Had anyone seen the two of us, they would’ve thought we were close friends, having a heart-to-heart while watching the view. Ironically, we were two mortal enemies, having a heart-to-heart while watching the view.
"Haakishe," he said.
"Huh?"
"Haakishe is a realm without a sun. Instead, it has luminous creatures floating in its sky," he explained. "They look like fish."
"You’re kidding?" My jaws dropped.
"I don’t...kid."
"Tell me more. Tell me more." I put my hands together.
He raised his eyebrows, surprised by my excitement. "There’s also Sattarum, where the terrain is colored, grainy sand. When someone steps on it, the sand spreads in the air, giving off colors."
"This sounds beautiful." I imagined a festival where people spray colored powders in the air. "You’ve seen everything. Haven’t you, Doyle?"
"It’s impossible to see everything."
"I haven’t seen anything," I said. "I always lived in a bubble, too afraid to try new things or to wonder."
"That does not sound like you."
"Well, it was me. Tara calls me Stiff Head because I never try new things." I crossed my legs on the bench, adjusting myself to a more comfortable position. "One time, when we were children, Grandpa took us on a boat cruise. It was spring and the view was breathtaking. Tara and I wanted to jump into the water, fully clothed, but we knew Mother would kill us. It was a sophisticated gathering with all of Grandpa’s friends." I chuckled. "I shied away, but Tara plunged into the river. It was exhilarating. She never regretted it, although she was grounded for like a month."
"Why didn’t you jump with her?" he asked.
"I didn’t want Grandpa’s friends to think I was a savage." The thought of my younger self made me laugh.
Doyle smiled. Despite everything, it was easy for me to be around him. Talking to him was effortless. There was no judgment, and he didn’t expect me to be someone I wasn't. He just listened to me.
***
The sound of chime bells grabbed my attention. A small crowd of people gathered around the ice cream bike, and the old ice cream man took their orders. He wore a white apron and had a cheery smile on his face.
"Want one?" I asked Doyle.
"What? Are we ‘bonding’ now?" he smirked.
"Consider it a peace offering." I tossed my hair over my shoulder.
He chuckled.
"But peace is not yours to offer," a woman’s voice broke in.
We turned around to see Viessa in her bright red dress. Doyle jumped up, and in a glimpse, her arms were wrapped around his neck. "I looked everywhere for you," she whined. "Locator spells are no good." She glanced at me through the corner of her eyes. "Why are you having ice cream with this witch?"
"This witch has a name." I came to my feet and crossed my arms.
"And what’s that?" Viessa drew a wicked grin on her face.
"It’s Echo."
She couldn’t care less. Opening her palm, she created a wave of energy that threw me over the bench and a few feet back. My ankle popped.
"Viessa, no." Doyle tried to stop her from removing her glove. She hissed at him like a cat in rage.
Glancing at her tattoos, she whispered something to herself, and a squeezing pain seized my arm.
"Aaaah." I groaned in pain. It was as if my arm were trapped between two moving gears. "You brought this on yourself...Reddo."
That was a classic mirror spell that reflected Viessa’s attack on her. Her arm became as paralyzed as mine, but the pain didn’t seem to bother her. Nothing did.
The crowd dispersed when they saw a fight break out, but the ice cream man was too old to run. A gleam of deviltry showed on Viessa’s face when she noticed him. She whispered another spell, and the man grabbed a pair of scissors in his hand.
"Don’t," I shouted.
The old man shivered. He tried to resist, to push the scissors away from himself, but his hands betrayed him. Viessa’s magic was stronger than his will.
"Kídalam." I froze the man’s arm before he hurt himself. "Let him go."
"Are you giving me orders now?" The amulet on her chest glowed, undoing my freezing spell.
The old man thrust the scissors in his own guts.
"No."
"Viessa, this is enough." Doyle grabbed her arm before she attacked again.
I limped towards the bike and cradled the injured man in my arms. Although he struggled to breathe, he kept his eyes wide open. Slowly, his white apron turned red.
"Let it all be healed," I cried out, once again, using my grimoire for good. A gold beam surrounded the man’s wound, which started to close, by the time it was completely healed, Viessa and Doyle had already vanished.
***
It had been four days since Doyle left with Viessa, and I wasn’t yet able to forgive myself. I had been careless. I let Doyle in, knowing he wasn’t a friend. Now he was back behind the enemy line.
Kirby parked the wheelchair close to the cab, leaned forward, and placed his arms underneath Cona’s armpits. Carefully, he laid his hands flat against her back and transferred her into the backseat.
"Will you at least tell me where you’re going?" I tossed my arms out in fury.
"My cousin’s," Cona replied.
"I’ll need more than—"
"Gerald Sullivan, Milan, Italy," she said before turning to Kirby, who placed the wheelchair in the trunk. "Hurry up."
"Just a second," he said.
Despite my friends’ disapproval, I continued to practice the dark arts. While Vanna had no concerns, Kirby refused to talk to me, and Cona decided she was better off leaving. Standing in front of the pet store, I watched her drive off. She never looked back, and I never chased after her.
Inside the store, Vanna and Ebba waited. When I walked back in, they handed me a piece of paper. "Cona left you this," Ebba said.
"Cona Sullivan, CN595449," I read. "What’s this?"
"A username and a password?" Vanna guessed.
"For what?"
She shrugged.
The two followed me to the kitchen upstairs. In a bowl, I mixed a few leaves of Moth Orchids with blue Ioteaf Powder. Blowing the mixture on the mysterious paper, I chanted: "Reveal the truth."
We rushed to the living room when we heard my laptop beep. It automatically launched an unknown browser called The Magic Web, which turned out to be a secret online platform for witches. They had their special social networks, search engines, e-mails, blogs, and even their version of Amazon. Hadn’t I been a despised Blackwood, I would’ve had an account.
"I can order ingredients from here," I cheered. "Dark Magic ingredients too. They even have the dead witch’s hair I need."
Ebba winced in disgust. Dark Magic required some horrifying items.
"With these resources here, our life will be much easier," Vanna said.
"I can even log in to Cona’s Witchbook and mingle." I grinned.
As I continued to browse the Magic Web, another beep sounded, that time from the PPS. I squared my shoulders. For the first time since Doyle became our hostage, a portal was about to open.
***
Vanna and I parked the car before crossing the barricade. The PPS had led us to a construction site outside the city. To our left and right stood under-construction buildings, and at the center, a hole settled in the ground—the perfect spot for a portal.
"You shouldn’t be here," a voice of a man broke through the sound of the drillers. He wore a hard hat on his head, and his orange vest displayed the logo of Raynott Construction.
"This place is crowded," Vanna said. "Innocent workers doing their job, these are the targets."
"I have an idea," I said. "Let’s set a trap."
Raynott Construction belonged to only the amazing Mayan Raynott, Jackson’s mother, who loved me and Tara like the daughters she never had. She wouldn’t say no if I asked for a favor, no matter how peculiar it was. "Can you stop the work on your new housing scheme and dismiss the workers for the day?" I spoke on the phone. I claimed I was assisting Grandpa with a case and promised to pay her back for the damage.
"Please, Mayan. I promise, I’ll explain when we meet."
I wasn’t sure if I had always been a natural liar or if meddling with the dark arts ate a part of my soul, but at least it worked. Mayan ordered the workers to leave.
***
The ground collapsed into a hole, and the Katarus reached up, clawing their way to our world. They abandoned the portal and prowled the empty construction site, looking for something to hunt, unaware the only way back home was about to disappear.
Without grabbing their attention, I sealed the portal closed.
That was Vanna’s cue to attack.
The flying dragon emerged from her hiding, her teeth jagged, purple scales hardened, and pupils reduced to vertical slits. She didn’t hesitate to grab one of the Katarus by the leg and blow off an exploding flame. Moving on to the second one, she ripped its arm by her teeth.
The third Kataru flung its claws at her with a loud sound that gave me shivers. Vanna’s wound bled, but she continued to fight, attacking with wind and fire blows.
She’s getting stronger. That wasn’t a surprise. My magic fed her. The more competent I was as a witch, the stronger she became.
I never noticed when Viessa came out of the portal, but I spotted her standing on the top of a semi-complete building, her dress fluttering in the wind. To take her by surprise, I used the teleportation spell I had been practicing for the past two weeks.
"You, again." Her dark hair flipped in the air as she turned around to see me.
"Me again."
Coming down to one knee, I put my hand on the ground. "Di terra, commoda mihi potestatem tuam." With the help of Earth magic, I broke off a few blocks from the floor and reconstructed them into a black panther that rocketed towards Viessa—the same spell I had used in Herotreat Coast to fight Dragon Kirby.
Without a flinch, Viessa took one glove off and glanced at her arm.
The panther stopped. Flicking her fingers, Viessa controlled its body. Like a puppet master, she forced it to turn around, leaping at me with its claws extended.
A roar escaped its throat.
"Shrink," I reduced the panther to the size of a cat and put my arms in front of my face for defense. The roar softened into an aggressive meow as the cat fell on my chest, cutting through my shirt and scraping my skin with its claws.
So, this is what she does. I’ve never heard of such magic before. I thought back to my previous encounters with Viessa. In Herotreat Coast, she took over Kirby’s body and brought the dead Katarus to life. In the park, she forced the ice-cream man to stab himself. And now, she controlled my panther.
Let’s try something else then. I sniffled, smelling the moisture in the air.
It’s a good day for a thunderbolt.
I moved my fingers, and the water droplets rose. They froze. Collided. Burst out an electric current that illuminated the sky like a fluorescent light. At full blast, they followed my index finger, pointed at Viessa.
Unbothered, she glanced at the incandescent spark coming her way, her hair blown to all sides by the wind. One touch of her amulet, and my finger pointed at me instead.
Oh, God.
I tried to run, but the bolt hit me like the whip of God, entering through my shin and forcing my calf muscles to tense up. I hopped, then fell to the ground, which saved my life. I was lucky the bolt didn’t reach any vital organs. Still, the pain was unbearable, like hot knives piercing through my flesh or an excruciating sneeze pinching at my nerves.
The hem of my jeans turned into gray ashes. Underneath it, my skin swelled. For a second, it hurt before going numb. My throat became so dry that even breathing hurt. Yet, I was grateful to have survived.
"This is fun, but not enough," Viessa said. "Now, let me teach you my favorite move."
She touched the amulet.
I pressed my hands to the floor and slammed my head against it, pounding and pounding. Viessa had taken control of my body.
"Are you insane?" I yelled. No part of me was spared the pain. My skin swelled and my legs weakened. Blood rained down my forehead until I collapsed to the ground.
"I am insane." Viessa grinned widely. All it took for her to beat me was two moves.
Am I this pathetic? I tried to push myself up.
Sashaying towards me, Viessa swayed her head to inaudible music. Her diabolical stare revealed her truth. She wasn’t insane; she was insanity itself.
I won’t give up. Not now. She may be a better witch, but I’m a well-built girl. I won’t go out without a fight.
With all the energy left in me, I stood up and launched myself at Viessa. She screamed when I grabbed her in my arms and catapulted towards the edge of the roof. If I’m going to die, I’m taking her with me.
Viessa shrieked. I tightened my grip, squeezing her in my arms. The bitter chill tore through our warm bodies as we dangled off the roof. My heart sank and my stomach twirled. The breakfast omelet was coming back up, or technically, down as I was hanging from my leg. I couldn’t help but think of my recurring nightmare. The situation sure resembled it, but instead of a mountain, I was falling off a skyscraper.
I never imagined we would survive the fall, but as I surrendered to my fate, a thought hit me: Why aren’t we falling? I swung in the air with one leg still clinging to the roof. Something is holding me back.
I felt a tug on my leg. Someone pulled us up and flipped us over, so we fell back on the roof.
I found myself lying on top of Doyle, and Viessa on top of me. Sweat coated us, and our heartbeats synchronized.
Where did he come from? I panted.
As Viessa rose to her feet, I crawled off Doyle and huddled in a corner to catch my breath.
"Any last wishes?" Viessa raised her arm, preparing for a strike. A vengeful grin spread across her face, but in a moment, the insanity in her eyes faded, and all left was pain. She glanced down at her dress; it was soaked in blood, the same blood that dripped off Doyle’s sword.
"Doyle?" she asked, confounded. "Why?"
He tightened his jaws.
Viessa’s eyes teared up before she crumpled. Her fragile body dropped right on mine.
"I’ve met my dark side, Echo," Doyle said.
It took a while for me to process what was happening. In my arms, Viessa let out her last breath. I called out, yelled, and tried to shake her back to life, but there was no life left in her. I turned to Doyle, but he had, once again, disappeared.
She’s dead. She’s really dead. I clamped my mouth shut so I wouldn’t vomit.
