Page 76 of The Hocus Pocus Handbook

The monster has Ragh’s face.

That thought occurs to me as everything happens at once. As the monster rushes, a human woman shouts something, but I can’t make out the words. The portal is a trembling golden vortex, expanding, twisting, writhing, and I don’t know how long Kerboros can keep it open. I remember my dad telling me to trust myself, and the idea pops into my head, fully fleshed out.

But exigence forces me to be brief. “Push that beast back,” I call.

Our magic is still linked, or the portal wouldn’t be open. I give an experimental tug, and the energy surges toward me. Instead of trying to fight the monster, I envision the magic as a giant wall and exert force. The creature rebounds against the shimmering field and tumbles toward the wavering portal.

Zeph locks their will onto mine. “I see what you’re trying to do. All hands, push!”

“Everyone, together!” Rosa grunts with effort, and her will is astonishingly strong.

Tara settles into the bond, adding her determination, and then Kerboros and Govannon lean in. Their colors swirl around me. While we’re joined, I can see their auras, shaded by their moods and personalities, but I don’t let the magical rainbow distract me. Another heave, and the immense creature careens toward the vortex as it snaps closed, severing our magical connection and bisecting the beast. The back end plops to the ground, jerking in death spasms; it doesn’t dissipate. Rather, the unwholesome flesh unbinds, oozing into a more liquid state, so the objects that were lending mass squirt out into a crimson puddle.

The smell is indescribable.

“We should burn it, just to be sure,” Kerboros says.

Zeph spearheads the magical initiative. They set the first sparks, and I add my will to the flame. One by one, the others commit to this course, until there’s a conflagration before us, a pyre immolating our foe.

A human woman has been observing our struggle with wide eyes and finally speaks. “Who the heck are you people?”

I finally turn to look at her fully as the flames die to ash, cooling from orange to gray with magical precision. And then I blink. Rub my eyes and look again. Because she looks like me. She’s softer and rounder; she has deep dimples and incredibly kind eyes, but there is no mistaking the resemblance.

I’ve never met anyone who looks like me. Good chills pepper my skin as I take a step toward her, confused but drawn by her mere presence.

Kerboros gazes at her, head tilted, and it makes his ridiculously beautiful hair shimmer. “I would be inclined to ask that you answer the same question,” he says.

“Why?” I ask.

He explains without looking at me: “Amid all the chaos during the attack, I lost the mushroom circle. But I felt a pull. A presence that felt like an echo of you, Thea.”

“Thea?” the woman repeats.

It’s not really a question, more like an expression of joy. Her eyes are wet with it. Then she rushes forward without hesitation and wraps her arms around me.

“Feels like I’ve been searching for ages. When I heard you were missing, I had to come. I’m Olive. And we’re sisters.”

Tentatively, I raise my arms, hugging her back. “Really? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You’re the only one here who’s…not fae.” Suddenly, she pulls back, careful with what she says.

Maybe in case they don’t know that I’m different? I suspect Olive doesn’t want to alienate my friends, and I adore her for that moment of caution, her instinct to protect me. I step back after giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder. I have no idea how I should feel.

I have a sister? I have resisted the urge to try to learn more about my mortal family because I feared it would hurt Da. That he’d think I didn’t love or appreciate him enough. Though some fae are all about the bloodline, Da doesn’t care about that. Neither do I. What matters to me is how people treat me, if they love me for who I am without trying to change me.

But the sad little girl inside can’t stop smiling. Because someone I’ve never even met cared enough to come looking.

“Wait,” Tara cuts in. “You’re Thea’s actual sister?”

“Biologically,” says Olive. “Yes. We are sisters. Though I won’t force a relationship if Thea is uncomfortable. I just had to make sure she was safe.”

Rosa waves her arms. “Uh, can we go back to the part where Thea is missing? And you’ve been searching?”

“Technically, I haven’t seen her since she was born. But that’s not exactly what I meant. You see, the fae notified Rain and Fen that Thea disappeared while on some official dispatch for the Winter Court. Rain and Fen told Iris, who told me about it.”

“Who’s Iris?” I ask.

Here, Olive hesitates. “Rain and Fen’s natural daughter. Raised as my sister, but she never fit in with our family. They’re…they can be difficult. Right now, she’s only talking to me and, occasionally, our dad.”