Page 113 of Autumn L.A.W

“And your brilliant double body-swap idea?” Crystal asked, eyes sparkling with trouble.

Lioness snorted. “Oh, please say we’re doing that.”

“Absolutely not,” Victoria said flatly. “The Sorceress and the dry cleaner don’t need to go through what I’ve gone through. I just want this to end.”

“Keep it in your back pocket,” Lioness added helpfully.

“Sit on it,” Victoria snapped.

Duke held up his hand. “Noted. Back pocket. Sat on. Buried. Moving on.”

But he could sense they were smiling. Even now.

That was the thing about the League. Apocalypse on the menu, and they still found time to heckle. He’d take that over fear any day.

The cabin looked exactly like it had before. Small. Dark. Like it might sell homemade jam and cause seasonal depression.

Duke didn’t slow as they approached. The witches spread naturally, forming a loose arc behind him. No one said it out loud, but they all felt it.

Something was wrong. The air didn’t move. Not a breeze. Not a whisper. Like the world had been paused and forgotten.

“Barrier,” Sahara murmured.

Duke nodded. “Stay sharp.”

They took another step, and the world snapped.

The cabin vanished. The trees vanished. The sky didn’t vanish so much as change its demeanor.

Heat slammed into them. Dry, brutal, ancient.

Duke blinked. Then blinked again. “Holy shit…”

The ground beneath them was cracked and red, like it had been thirsty for a century. Rusted armor littered the field. Bodies lay where they’d fallen, half-buried in dust and time. Above them, vultures circled.

“Okay,” Crystal said. “This is different.”

Across the battlefield, the sorceress stood waiting. Her long black and white hair was whipping in a wind that hadn’t existed seconds ago. Black eyes locked on them like she’d been expecting guests.

She rested both hands on her staff, leaning casually. “I am feared for a reason,” she called. “Turn away.”

No one moved.

Joell rolled her shoulders. “We don’t do that.”

“Didn’t think so,” the sorceress said, almost pleased.

Then she lifted her staff.

Fire erupted from nothing—hot, hungry, and screaming toward them.

Crystal’s hands were already up, dragging a gust of wet wind out of thin air. The fireball sputtered, losing momentum as it passed them and dropped feebly somewhere behind them.

Sahara’s shield snapped into place a heartbeat later, humming with power. “Little warning next time,” she muttered.

The sorceress smiled.

Then she came at them with a vengeance.