Right, Gael had retrieved it from the Whitlock Estate after Tara’s abduction.
“So?” Layla rolled her eyes.
“So, familiars share a bond that no magic can hide,” Gael explained. “King Clucks always knows where I am, and the same goes for me. Our magic is linked no matter the distance, the location, the whatever. Tara’s familiar will be able to give us a precise location, no problem.”
“That’s fantastic,” I said, almost smiling. “But how are we going to talk to Tara’s familiar?”
None of us exactly shared the telepathic connection with the animal.
“Ba-ba-bawk.”
“Right? What an idiot.” Gael grinned, then pointed a thumb at his rooster. “King Clucks will just translate. Duh.”
“Then it’s settled,” I replied.
“Go get her familiar,” Kenzo demanded. “The sooner we do this, the sooner—”
“Well, wait.” I raised my hands. “We need to find them, yes, but we need a plan, before rushing into—”
“I have a plan,” Kenzo snapped. “Kill The Bitch Witch and her psycho cunt son, then save Caleb.”
“And Tara,” Gael added, smiling with his sharklike teeth.
“Whatever, if there’s time.” Kenzo shrugged.
“I mean, we got time for a plan.” Gael shrugged, kicking his foot against the floor as his rooster puffed his chest.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Tara’s familiar is still cocooned,” Gael answered. “Until it evolves or whatever, we can’t really communicate.”
“How long until it turns into a butterfly?” Layla asked.
“It usually takes one to three weeks,” Jennifer answered.
“Not the case here,” Gael said, to which King Clucks bawked. “Tara’s familiar has been cocooned for months now. Plus, King Clucks here spent much longer in his chick state and the whole molting phase than most birds. The familiar bond warps timelines.”
Right, because animals who bonded to a witch ended up with altered lifespans to match that of their witch partner.
“So, back to fucking square one,” Kenzo grumbled.
“We’re not at square one,” Milo replied, stepping back into the conversation. “We have a plan, we have ideas, we are making contingencies. Finding Tara and Caleb through the familiar bond is one plan. The Global Guild is a second. Dorian’s manifestations are a third. We have options.”
Everyone nodded, a few minds wandered with weird thoughts of hearing my first name—only really thinking of me as Mr. Frost. Most minds focused on their concern for Caleb and Tara.
“Now, let’s brainstorm,” Milo said, taking a seat. “Stuff the arguments. We don’t have time for them.”
A consensus was met mentally, and everyone did their best planning for ways to help bring an end to the Celestial Coven once and for all.
Something about their fates being intertwined brought relief and dread in equal measures. While working with them would ensure we located Tara and Caleb, it also all but guaranteed they’d be thrust into the most dangerous fight of their lives. Every fiber of my being didn’t wish to drag my students into a battle with the Celestial Coven, with Theodore Whitlock—again.
I’d follow these bounds that linked us together, I’d believe in Milo when he said he’d help create the best outcome foreveryone, but I’d still hunt alone. If I got lucky, I’d track down Amara independently and finally put an end to the vile witch.
Aftera few days of decompressing from the meeting with my students, I decided to take a little time for just Milo and me. Vanessa agreed to let Ben spend the night with the twins. Chanelle helped arrange a reservation at Milo’s favorite restaurant. Milo’s former acolytes even pushed their mentor out of the Cerberus office in a timely manner.
The world was on the brink of destruction with a psychotic witch attempting to open the Gate of Hell and usher in a new era of magic while slaughtering millions in the process. Even with such a catastrophe looming near, with the terror of losing my students, I couldn’t ignore the feelings that’d been building inside me since I opened my heart to Milo again.
I waited impatiently, craving a cigarette in a way I hadn’t in quite some time. Every second that ticked, I anticipated a text from Milo, some important task that’d called him away. Maybe it was for the best. Tonight was planned well enough but rushed. Too rushed. I never put enough thought into things.
