Still, there were only a handful in the US as far as I knew, and they had limitations.
“How the hell did you hire out some government official?”
“Called in a favor.” Milo shrugged, hiding painful thoughts before drifting back to optimism. “She was here for Campbell’s funeral. We chatted during the wake.”
Every horror held a silver lining in Milo’s mind. Campbell’s death was a tragedy that’d haunt him for years, yet he considered the blessing of stumbling onto a Weather Witch he was friends with.
“It’d been years since she just conjured a little snow globe of fun for folks.”
“And you told her Ben had never experienced a snow day.”
“Her only condition is she wants to meet our kiddo.”
I sighed. “Fine by me. But I’m not engaging in conversation.”
“I already warned her you’re a sourpuss.”
I scoffed, playfully shoving Milo.
It didn’t take long for Milo to abandon me, joining Ben and Sheamus as they ran around in the snow. Milo showed Ben how to make snow angels, they had a telekinetic snowball fight, then they built a snowman with the most deranged pinecone face.
I really liked watching my family have fun. Ben had quickly become the glue that held our family together. It was nice to see him find joy again after suffering such tremendous loss.
I continuedchasing holiday festivities during the break, anything to distract myself from Caleb and Tara’s abduction. There was nothing to be done, not yet. The Global Guild had no leads, Milo had no leads, I had no leads.
All the same, I continued sending manifestations out into the world in hopes one would stumble onto the Celestial Coven. It merely made my day-to-day activities exhausting. I walked in a fog, exerting more magic than usual. I doubled the number of projections searching the world, each returning without the faintest trace.
Ben proved very distracting during these long days, wanting to try something new and holiday themed every day. When I wasn’t taking him to see Santa or some Christmas-themed land, I was meeting Vanessa for a playdate with her twins.
Whenever I was home, I was burning baked cookies, poorly decorating them, or doing something not on theme. Usually, I let Milo take the lead on the cooking side of things, but Ben could be insistent.
I also got stuck with cleaning up a lot around the house—especially when it came to the tree itself. It turned into a disasterzone for Charlie and Carlie to terrorize. They each managed to break at least one ornament a day.
Still, it made for a strong distraction from the absence of Caleb and Tara. They were out there, lost somewhere in Amara’s clutches. Who knew what hell she had planned? Sadly, I did know. Literal Hell.
I researched celestial and cosmic events coming up. From constellation alignments to passing comets, all the way to magical symphonies planned with the ebb and flow of magical planes.
We had months to plan, according to online searches. And that was if Amara could make use of the nearest comet scheduled to fly by. It’d be years before a bigger event came to pass. Something told me Amara wouldn’t wait that long. For a woman who’d patiently plotted for millennia, she seemed pressed to reach the end of her plan, which meant she’d ensure Tara ascended into this divine goddess soon.
And I wasn’t comfortable leaving Caleb and Tara in Amara’s care for months on end. I’d seen how she treated Theodore, how she broke him until he behaved. My students wouldn’t suffer under her deranged plots.
The more I dwelled, the longer the days lasted.
As the night rolled around, I tucked Ben into bed and prepared to join Milo on the couch. Watch a few episodes of something dreadful and pass out.
A haunting hum echoed in my ears, like a faint ringing. I knew this sound, this voice. Pausing in the hall, I focused on the whisper. Words were impossible to catch, but I knew someone was speaking, calling out.
This link held strong like something I shared with Milo. Only foreign and foul.
“Theodore,” I whispered.
I channeled my telepathy, reaching out to link with all my roaming manifestations. None of them had found him, nor had a trace or trail led to the wicked warlock.
Still, he reached out, contacting me in the faintest way. A desperate plea for help or a devious ploy? If I had to guess—both. It was Theodore Whitlock, after all.
Following the hum, I trailed the edges of the psychic plane, knowing somewhere out there I had a literal beacon with Theodore’s location.
“What’s going on?” Milo asked, staring at me from the couch.
