Archive of Our Own ^beta

Neil was getting really tired of running.

It wasn’t so much the running that was bothersome, it was evading that annoying asshole that kept popping up everywhere he went like his own personal shadow. If his shadow were three inches shorter, blond, and built like a goddamn tank.

It had been Boston, at first. Neil had been dumpster diving and scored burnt bagels for breakfast from behind a bakery. 

“And I thought I had terrible eating habits.”

Neil nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the gravelly voice. How did this stranger sneak up on him? It should have been impossible, but he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. He chucked his bagel at the man as hard as he could and booked it in the opposite direction.

When Neil finally stopped running, it was twenty minutes later and he was in a completely different alleyway. It was neglected, filthy, and–most importantly–empty. Panting, he sat on his haunches to catch his breath. He hadn’t sprinted that far in a few weeks.

“That was dramatic,” a bored, familiar voice intoned.

“Gods almighty-” Neil shot to his feet in an instant.

How? How had this rando snuck up on him again?

Once was lucky. Twice was suspicious as hell.

The short man leaned on the wall across from Neil, appraising him with a blank expression.

“Why are you following me?” Neil demanded.

The blond man merely raised an eyebrow.

“Why were you running?”

Ugh. What a douchebag. Neil was sorely tempted to sass back I asked you first .

Instead, he asked “Who are you?”

Neil’s new stalker slowly looked him over from head to toe. He became keenly aware of the cheap black dye in his hair, his old washed-out jeans that had been cuffed to accommodate his height, and the scuffed-up duffel bag he clung onto like it was the only precious thing he had left in the world (it was).

The mystery man looked unimpressed, but that seemed to be his general state of being.

“The real question is: who are you ?”

Great, the last thing Neil needed was cryptic comments from the man who could appear out of thin air.

“You’re following me and you don’t even know who I am?” It was childish, but Neil couldn’t keep the snark out of his tone. 

Blondie must have agreed, because he rolled his eyes.

“All I know is I gotta bring you back with me.”

Coldness began to run through Neil’s veins.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. It was that kind of threat. He wasn’t used to dealing with those without his mom around, but he could manage. He could call on some spirits or some shit while he made a run for it.

“Don’t even think about it,” the man warned lowly. 

Neil stilled completely, running a mental check on the shields in his mind. They seemed to be intact.

“You’ve got that look in your eye, like you’re ready to run again. Don’t you even think about it, little rabbit.”

Not telepathy, then. 

Neil took a subtle, measured breath. The mystery man’s eye twitched a fraction, and Neil turned toward the opening of the alley to make a break for it.

Blondie. Right in front of him.

Surprised, Neil took a staggered step back.

Teleportation? Unlikely, Reality Warping magic without a conduit took a huge toll on Casters and a teleportation—formerly called Location Displacement—, from that distance would have left Blondie visibly weaker. 

Perhaps a fully materialized ghost? Also unlikely. Neil didn’t feel that weird buzzing along his skin that came when another Summoner used their powers.

Oh. Astral Projection.

On a whim, he reached out to touch the shorter man, but stopped when Blondie flinched. It wasn’t a visible flinch, but more of a psychic one. Neil could feel those sometimes. He learned to perceive those the hard way.

He dropped his hand before it made contact with the man.

“You’re a Projectionist.”

Blondie gave him a flat look.

“And you’re one of those people who can’t pronounce Astra-Ergokinetic.”

Neil huffed, but he didn’t rise to the bait. A Projectionist could follow him anywhere, theoretically. He needed to know who this man’s boss was. Spiritual magic was a tricky business (as he well knew). More importantly, it was an expensive one.

“Who sent you after me?”

Blondie smirked, cocky and condescending.

“Why don’t you come along and find out?”

Clearly, the man didn’t know much about Neil.

Good.

Neil used one of the few abilities he could, using his Summoning to call a spirit right where Blondie was standing. It was a low-level ghost; the impression of some random deceased person more than an actual specter, but it was enough to disrupt the psychic field Blondie was using. The moment his projection disappeared, Neil ran.

And so it went. After their first meeting in Boston, it was Kingston, then Trenton, and city after city after city. 

It was slower moving across the Eastern Seaboard alone than it would have been with Mary, especially having to use so many precautions now that he had a determined bloodhound on his tail. As much as he wanted to use Mary’s funds, Neil didn’t want to risk going to one of their emergency locations that held their caches of resources in case Blondie projected and discovered their hidden stashes. So he made his journey slowly, using every trick he could to get the mystery man off his trail.

He only splurged a bit on bus tickets and train fares, going further south bit by bit with the hope of eventually getting to the Mexican border. Due to strong spiritual beliefs in that country, countless wards existed to prevent Spiritual magic in several of its provinces. Neil’s own Summoning would be impacted, but it would be near impossible for someone to attack him from a distance. Not to mention how much harder it would be for others to magickally track Neil.

Still, part of him thought it would be smarter to go deeper into the countryside and away from the Atlantic Ocean. Water was a powerful conduit for Spiritual magic, after all, and he didn’t need Blondie using the boost. On the other hand, it gave his own Summoning a boost, too. And his novice powers were the only things that could get the guy off his back long enough to escape. It was a lose-lose. That always seemed to be how his cards were dealt. In the end, sticking to the Eastern Seaboard won out.

The image of cards being dealt flew into his mind unbidden, but Neil didn’t recognize the mental doorway being cast until it was too late.

[Let me out, Nathaniel. Let me out.]

(Don’t think about her, don’t think about her, don’t think about her.)

He imagined the cards blowing away from a strong gust of wind and willed his mind to dissolve the door that had been created.

Exhausted from the constant evasive maneuvers, Neil had allowed himself to check into a motel after crossing the border from North Carolina to South Carolina. The respite was more a matter of necessity than leisure. It was time for a new dye job, and some things simply could not be done in a truck stop restroom. 

Cold water ran down the sides of his cheeks as he dunked his head in the sink of the motel bathroom to wash the excess dye off. Flat, dark brown was his color of choice today. 

Generic, unremarkable. 

As his blunt fingernails scrubbed his hair, he couldn’t help but miss when his mother used to do this for him. Mary’s confident ministrations against his scalp were rougher than they were soothing, but it was a familiar comfort he missed nonetheless. If he tried hard enough, he could almost feel the ghost of her fingers tugging at his roots.

[Let me out, Nathaniel.]

Neil scrubbed a little harder, fortifying his mental wards and triple checking them.

He eventually turned off the water and blindly reached for the dark towel he always kept for such an occasion, wrapping it around his shoulders so as not to stain his shirt. Job now done, Neil lifted up his head to check out the finished project in the small mirror above the sink.

The Projectionist.

Neil jumped about a foot in the air before whirling around.

“ You ,” he hissed.

But Blondie didn’t have that impassive stare he always had, or that sneer he wore when he was taunting Neil. Instead, he was looking intently at the newly brunet man in front of him as if unearthing a long-buried secret.

“Your eyes,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“What?” Neil asked dumbly.

Oh fuck. His eyes . Oh, fuck fuck fuck.

Neil looked around frantically for his lens case. He had taken off his contacts so he wouldn’t accidentally track dyed water into them. He finally spotted them sitting above the mirror frame and immediately reached for them.

“Don’t,” Blondie said. It was a simple command. It could have been mistaken for harsh, if it weren’t for the hint of something haunted running underneath the tone. Hunger, perhaps. Desperation. Something more than mere curiosity. 

Stupidly, Neil let his arms fall at his sides.

“I already saw them. Might as well turn around.”

He was right. And damn, Neil hated that he was right. He closed his eyes and started counting, inhaling up to ten in French, exhaling back to one in German.

He opened his eyes and slowly turned to face Blondie again.

“You are getting progressively more irritating.”

The hint of a smile tugged the corner of Blondie’s mouth.

“And you are getting progressively more fascinating. What color did you choose this time? Shoe-polish brown?”

It took a beat for Neil to realize Blondie wasn’t referring to his contacts, but his hair dye. If he believed in that kind of a thing, Neil might call it a small mercy. It was almost as annoying as it was confusing. He preferred trekking on familiar ground.

“Ah, my apologies,” Neil retorted with no small amount of sarcasm. “The gas station was all out of Tinker Bell Blond. Tell me, is that why you’re such a midget? Because you didn’t bother reading the instructions and drank it like a potion instead?”

In terms of comebacks, it wasn’t Neil’s wittiest response. But he still figured it would piss off Blondie. Instead, the weird fuck laughed. Well, it was more of a snort. But that was as close to a laugh as Blondie ever seemed to get.

And fuck, did that piss Neil off even more.

“So feisty for such a twitchy rabbit. What a conundrum you are.”

Blondie sounded delighted.

“I’m not a goddamn puzzle. Or a fucking rabbit!”

How the hell did the guy always manage to get a rise out of Neil? He used to be so good at keeping to himself, going unnoticed, never rustling any feathers. With his little Projectionist shadow, all his instincts seemed to fly out the window.

“Maybe not,” Blondie crooned, “but I’ll figure you out anyway. And sooner than you think.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Neil demanded.

But Blondie just winked and let his projection fade. 

Neil looked around, expecting Blondie to be trying another jump-scare, but saw nothing. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean a little into Spiritual magic, but even the Projectionist’s imprint was gone. 

Blondie’s aura never left unless Neil threw magic to dissipate it. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Neil’s gut. But he took a deep breath and put his concerns on the backburner for the moment.

He needed real sleep. Badly.

The room he had booked charged a few bucks more than average, but it was chosen with a purpose. It was one of the rooms that boasted a small, silver canal that ran along the edge where the walls of the room and the floor met. The only downside was that Neil needed to purchase his own salt to fill it. Different salt manufacturers boasted different protections. Neil chose to use rock salt, which he could always count on for a solid twelve hours of blocking magickal interference. 

He took his box of salt and started shaking it into the modest canal around the room.

That night, he rested easy knowing that Blondie wouldn’t make another surprise appearance while he slept. Neil even managed to convince himself that the Projectionist’s parting words weren’t running on a loop in the back of his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

And Sooner than you think. 

Sooner than you think. 

Soon.

…

[Let me out.]

^-.-^

Morning rose with those words rattling around in Neil’s brain. He pushed them out of his mind and got ready for the day. There was a time and place for paranoia, and before breakfast at the crack of dawn was not it. Instead, he cleaned himself up and ate one of his precious few remaining granola bars. He refilled his water bottles from the bathroom sink (hey, free water was free water), and began his walk to the bus station.

Once there, he scanned the routes and departure times of different buses. He nodded to himself and took a quick survey of his surroundings. Across the street at a gas station, a middle-aged man with tribal flame tattoos spanning the length of his forearms was smoking a cigarette next to the service booth.

Bingo.

Neil dragged his feet to the booth, a glum expression on his face.

“Nature Valley bar, please,” Neil told the cashier.

The bored attendant passed him his granola bar and rang up the charge. But Neil couldn’t care less about the snack. He was fishing for something else.

“Damn kid, who pissed in your cereal this morning?” the older man asked as he exhaled smoke.

The familiar scent had memories of Mary threatening to bubble up and distract him, but he fortified his mind against them. Memories were ghosts of the past, and if there’s one thing Neil was good at dealing with, it was ghosts.

(Don’t think about her. Don’t think about her.)

“Missed my bus,” Neil responded neutrally. 

The key was not sounding too pathetic. No one wanted to help a wimp.

“Well shit, kid. Where ya headed?”

“I’m trying to get to Lake City, sir,” Neil answered politely.

It wasn’t a lie, necessarily. From Lake City he’d try getting to Charlseton. He’d rest at Charleston, then pass the state line into Georgia.

The older man clicked his tongue.

“Furthest I can get you is to Palmetto,” he offered.

Neil perked up at that. He rarely got exactly where he needed to go, but Palmetto was close enough to Lake City that he could probably take an actual city bus instead of looking for more strangers to hitchhike off of.

“That would be great, thank you, sir,” Neil answered gratefully.

“Enough of all that ‘sir’ crap. What’s your name, kid?”

“Jake,” Neil lied.

The man hummed to himself and stuck out his hand.

“I’m David.”

Neil took his hand, despite his instincts telling him that letting older men that close was asking for a beating.

“Nice to meet you, David. You’re a lifesaver.”

David clapped Neil on the back and it took all his willpower not to cringe away from the touch. He must not have been very successful because David quickly removed his hand and put out his cigarette.

“No need for all of that. I’m not used to dealing with kids who have manners. The truck filling up on 3 is mine. You can put your duffel in the bed.”

They walked over to pump 3 and Neil climbed into the passenger seat with his duffel still slung across his shoulder. David raised his eyebrow at that, but kept any comments to himself.

“Darlington County, here we go.”

Neil leaned against his seat and settled in for the ride to Palmetto. If Neil knew his maps (and he did), the ride should take about forty-five minutes. Too short for small talk to be necessary, for the driver to suggest their passenger can take a nap, or for an offer to pullover for a food break. The ideal driving length.

Or it should have been. 

Fifteen minutes in, the sky began to darken from soft blue into charcoal gray. Heavy clouds rolled along the banks of the sky, eager to stretch as wide as it could. Neil closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, senses automatically reaching out to greet the powerful presence of such a strong conduit up above him. With that invigorating connection, he felt the thrum of electricity settling on his skin. He hoped a lightning storm wasn’t likely to break out, as they tended to jam traffic.

After another ten minutes, Neil’s hopes dwindled when the first fat drops of rain began falling, then quickly grew into a torrent.

“Great, just what I needed,” David grumbled, drawing Neil out of his thoughts. “Guess it’s a good thing you kept your bag on you after all.” 

It was curious how David seemed to be taking the rain personally, but Neil didn’t care, he was glad to have a ride at all. It would have taken him all day to get to Lake City using the bus system in a storm. 

Nearly an hour later, they finally spied the exit sign for Palmetto and psychically let out twin sighs of relief, though David hopefully couldn’t pick up on psychic gestures. 

“Just to the bus station is fine. Or you could let me off here, if you want,” Neil offered.

David simply gave him a side-eye and didn’t dignify that with a verbal response.

As they got off the ramp, Neil could have sworn he saw a flash of blond hair standing next to a payphone, but when he whipped his head to the side, there was no one there.

Instinctively, he checked and double-checked his mental wards. He wasn’t sure how the Projectionist kept tracking him down. They weren’t like Seers, or other Extrasensory magic users who could establish a psychic link, but securing his mind was the only comfort Neil could really give himself. 

In fact, perhaps Neil had simply manifested a mirage of Blondie. His Summoning went a little haywire sometimes as a result of constantly pushing down his Summoner magic. Sometimes he felt his mother’s hands yanking his hair, other times he felt the tip of a cool blade trailing down his torso. Seeing a flash of his little shadow wouldn’t be out of the question. 

With that settled, Neil’s racing heart slowed to a jog.

The other possibility was that Blondie was dead.

Thunder boomed overhead, echoing the pounding in Neil’s chest. 

No. 

No, the annoying little shit hadn’t gone and gotten himself ghosted. That would be too easy, and rarely did problems like that resolve themselves. Neil dismissed that idea entirely and settled for the mirage theory. 

Breaking up his train of thought was the sound of the rain as it fell harder, bringing with it smatterings of hail.

“Goddamn theatrics, I’ll tell you what,” David muttered under his breath.

Before Neil could question that train of thought, they pulled into a parking lot that was distinctly not the Palmetto bus station. He froze, dread seeping into his bones deeper than the cold of the storm. It wasn’t often he misjudged the intentions of a driver. Sometimes they thought they were due more than a simple “thanks”. Neil mentally prepared himself for a fight and took in a subtle, deep breath.

“Quit it with all that, would ya?” David sighed “You’re giving me the creeps. I’m not going to take you to the bus station to wait outside in these conditions.”

Neil released the tension in his body and tried to swallow back some of his frustration. Strangers trying to do him favors tended to create more problems than they solved.

“I really don’t mind, David,” Neil reassured.

The larger man scoffed at that.

“I really didn’t ask, Jake,” he retorted as he parked underneath a large canopy fighting valiantly against the wind. “Anyway, I don’t want hail to damage my truck too much. I work in the building here and there’s a computer you can use to look up bus schedules. Print out a route, let me know the departure time, and I’ll drop you off when it’s ready to go so you don’t get waterlogged out there. How’s that sound?”

That sounded… pretty nice, actually. And David was looking at Neil like he was a sorry sight. It wasn’t that his eyes held pity, but an understanding that convinced Neil the guy really did have his best interest at heart.

“Okay, thanks. That’s uh, that’s really… I appreciate it.”

David scrunched up his face at Neil’s attempt at gratitude.

“Shit kid, I already told you. I don’t know how to deal with kids who have manners. Let’s get inside and I’ll make us some coffee. Just promise you won’t offer up your firstborn or whatever,” David drawled, much to Neil’s discomfort.

The pair got out of the truck and made their way to take shelter from the storm. Neil could barely discern the outline of the building because rain kept getting in his eyes, so he let David take the lead and kept his eyes trained on the older man instead. Lightning lit up the sky, bringing with it the crawling sensation of static electricity. Neil shivered, and not from the chill. 

The lightning revealed a glimpse of David’s workplace. The building was at least three stories tall, and he could make out the shape of some sort of pawprint before everything darkened again. Was David the owner of veterinary practice? That could explain why the guy was willing to go out of his way for a nobody teenager like him. He seemed practiced in the art of dealing with strays.

Just ahead of him, David opened the side door without a key and held it open for his temporary guest.

Locked doors only opened without a key when they recognized the magickal signature of a person who had a Claim to the building: family members of a home, owners of a business, refugees in a shelter. It was ancient magic so primordial that it couldn’t be cast, it simply came to be . It was essentially Cosmic magic, following its own rules and bending for no one. The only caveat was that, like all binding enchantments, it only applied to magicians.

Neil crossed the threshold, then kept a subtle eye on David as he closed the door. His host didn’t engage the latch on the door, and Neil breathed a sigh of relief. If the older man had a habit of leaving the door unlocked, then he probably didn’t use a magickal signature to open it. Though if he was comfortable leaving his door unlocked, that probably meant there were other people here.

“How many different ways can I explain I’m not tryna kidnap you, kid?” David huffed.

The man was too good at reading him, but fortunately he seemed to have misread Neil’s trepidation.

“Sorry, I guess the weather is getting to my head. What do you do here, anyway?”

David shrugged and gestured around the room. Neil took that as an open invitation to explore.

The floor was a dark hardwood and plush couches of a deep blue color framed the spacious room with a glass and iron coffee table at the center that held tea coasters. Thick, plum colored curtains blocked out large windows and potted plants hung from the ceiling. There were pictures hung up on the wall as well, but Neil didn’t care to look at them. Half-melted candles adorned the room, leaving the scent of lavender in the air. The effect was a nice cozy room that somehow didn’t feel suffocating. 

“This is the parlor, where we have meetings and receive guests. Through that door we have a kitchen and that door we have a second, more secluded parlor for certain clients we decide to accept. Upstairs we have a few study rooms and the floor above that is for lodging.”

Neil took in the words then gave the room he was standing in a closer look. A silver canal ran around the floor along the bottom of the walls similar to the motel room he had booked the night before. It was full of pink Himalayan salt–salt that specifically helped replenish magicians when their energy is waning. He hadn’t noticed it at first because his eyes had been drawn to the bolder colors that decorated the space. A mistake. 

So many mistakes.

Pieces began to fall into place too late: Blondie’s parting words, the flash of blond hair off the exit ramp, David opening the door without a key, an unpredicted storm changing his destination, a room built for magicians. And goddamn, that wasn’t electricity from the weather Neil had felt on his skin at all. It was the buzzing that comes from another Summoner using their powers. 

Blondie hadn’t been chasing him across cities, he’d been corralling him. Corralling him here, into a trap.

“I think the little rabbit figured it out, Coach,” a voice crooned from the other side of the room. 

The door to the second parlor was open, revealing three men. One, tall and dark who offered a friendly wave. The other was tall and Asian with a number “2” tattooed on his cheekbone. He offered nothing but a glare. The third man–

“You,” Neil said breathlessly.

Blondie gave him a cold smile. Neil wanted nothing more than to punch it off his stupid face, but he pushed down his rage. Neil was a survivor, and he was at four-to-one odds against magicians. He had to run. 

Keenly aware of David blocking the side door behind him, Neil set his sights for the door that led to the kitchen and broke into a sprint. He ran for it, but the door began moving and shrinking along the wall.

“Shit,” Neil breathed.

He couldn’t go through the second parlor where the three stooges were, so he resolved to break through one of the windows. He ran toward his new destination, but it was farther than it had seemed. No, the window wasn’t far away, he was getting far away. The faster he ran, the more the space between him the window seemed to stretch wide.

Oh gods, there was a Spatial Distorer in the room. And the elusive door had to have been an Environmental Illusionist. Maybe he could have combated a Caster, but a Caster and an Illusionist? Impossible.

Impossible without magick.

Neil stopped running and drew on the tons of water held by the clouds above him. He felt a familiar hum spread throughout his body as dozens of ghosts were Summoned into the room. 

No one could target him if no one could see him.

Neil walked among the ghosts and ambled toward a different window.

“Where is he? Do you see him?” the taller man asked.

“Kevin, you’re up,” Blondie ordered.

Then Neil wasn’t moving alongside ghosts, but fighting to walk through wind, and fuck, this was the other Summoner he had sensed earlier. A goddamn Elemental Summoner whose gift was Weather Manipulation. 

He was up against a Projectionist, an Illusionist, a Caster, and another Summoner.

He was so hopelessly outclassed.

[Let me out, Nathaniel. Let me out. LET ME OUT.]

Maybe he should listen to her. Bring Mary upon the earth one last time. But would Summoning be enough for her, or would she want more? He’d broken his last promise to her, and he was terrified she’d force him to make good on it.

No, he couldn’t Summon his mom. Not unless it was life and death.

[I can help you. Let me out. I have secrets, abilities you don’t know about.]

Despite Mary’s voice whispering inside his head, he could barely hear her over the roar of the wind. It was turning into a small tornado inside the building, and his grasp on the ghosts was weakening as his concentration slipped. If he wanted a shot at getting out of this, he had to take out the other Summoner. 

Kevin, if he remembered correctly.

He couldn’t throw a knife in these conditions, not that he had one. And his visibility was too obstructed to shoot his gun. What Neil had to do was get closer to the magician and kill him with his power. After all, he couldn’t just Summon souls… he could manipulate them.

The wind threatened to blow Neil over, but he kept his feet planted and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the elements: the water above as a conduit, the soil below as a compass. He looked at the Otherworld, and the Otherworld looked back. She opened its veil for him, welcoming him as if it were his second home. The connection was established. Neil pushed his feet forward. 

When the young men saw that Neil was heading toward them, the distortion decreased and the wind loosened its hold on him. Since he was no longer trying to escape, they were allowing him to get close. They were fools. Once Kevin was a stone’s throw away, Neil cast his magick. Kevin’s eyes widened, mouth parting in a wordless gasp. 

It was unnecessary confirmation, Neil could already sense his magick working to drain the Summoner of his life force.

“Kevin, what’s wrong,” Blondie’s voice demanded over the cacophony of the turbulence. “KEVIN!”

The magician was turning ashen, but that only made him fight harder. The two Summoners faced off eye-to-eye as destruction rained down around them. Photos fell off the walls, candles flew off tables as the parlor harbored its own personal tornado. Pellets of hail threw themselves at Neil from every direction, but he did not allow his focus to waver. It had been so long since he had used his power to this extent, it felt like stretching a dormant muscle. Despite the threat, dark satisfaction thrilled him.

“Nicky, you’re up!” The Illusionist yelled into the room behind him.

A new voice appeared behind him and said, “Sorry about this.”

Then there was a blinding pain in the back of his neck, the brief smell of burnt flesh, and Neil’s world went dark.

^-.-^

Neil could feel his body before he felt the world around him. His muscles were fatigued and his limbs felt like they were made of lead. Consciousness was seconds away, but his head was too foggy to make that final push.

Fuck, this is what he gets for using Summoned water as a conduit. It would have been safer to use the natural storm in the sky instead of the magicked one in the room, but Neil suspected even the storm in the sky had been Summoned by Kevin. It was dangerous to use a conduit that wasn’t naturally formed by the environment. Magicians were left drained and vulnerable after the fact, but in desperate times it was usually more important to escape first and recover later.

Now Neil was paying for it. He was certain he wouldn’t be able to disrupt the spiritual field around him, let alone conjure a soul. 

Little by little, he began to gain awareness of his surroundings. He sensed there were five other people in the room. Faint voices gradually began to pierce through the fog. 

“I think he’s coming around.” The voice sounded like the tall Illusionist who had called in for a ‘Nicky’ at the end.

“Oh thank the gods, I thought I killed him,” someone confessed with no small amount of relief. 

“Yeah, well ya didn’t have to tase him in the goddamn neck, Hemmick,” came David’s dry response. “The point was to have him alive and functional.”

“Why?” The disdainful question was posed by someone who possessed major attitude. Possibly even more than Neil. “He almost killed me. Seems like he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

Ah, the other Summoner. That’s what arrogance gets you , Neil thought smugly. 

“To be fair, we were all attacking the kid after having lured him into a Den of magick under false pretenses.” 

The Illusionist again. Weirdly, it seemed like he was defending Neil.

Kevin scoffed. “Innocent people don’t go on the run like that.”

“You would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Kev?” Came the mocking retort from Blondie.

Something both cold and hot slithered up Neil’s core at the sound of that voice. To think he was in the same room as that prick–

“Now, Rabbit, why don’t you stop pretending to be unconscious and talk to us like a big boy, hm?”

Irritation broke through his anxiety and Neil’s eyes shot open to stare icily at the short, blond menace who had been haunting him for weeks. Despite the neutral set to the guy’s face, Neil could somehow tell the man was pleased by his presence.

“Why don’t you stop pretending to be a person and go back to the circle of hell you crawled out from?” Neil shot back.

There was that twitch in Blondie’s lip again that hinted at a smile. It was bewildering, and absolutely not Neil’s problem. 

An amused chuckle interrupted whatever tension was going on between them. Neil’s eyes traced it back to the Illusionist.

“I like him. Hi, it’s Jake right? I’m Matt,” the man said, extending his hand out for a handshake. 

Neil ignored it and looked around the room. His head swam a bit as he sat up on the soft couch he had been resting on. They were still in the lounge, and everyone was seated around looking at Neil. Blondie sat on the other couch with Kevin on one side of him and a fidgety guy on the other. That was probably Nicky. Kevin himself looked a little worse for wear, and Neil couldn’t help but throw a smirk in his direction. Kevin bared his teeth challengingly until Blondie rolled his eyes and flicked him in the ear.

The other two magicians in the room were obviously Matt, having sheepishly retracted his hand, and David. They were seated on the comfortable-looking chairs, which were positioned to give the impression that the unlikely group was in a circle for some sort of team meeting.

“Let’s be honest, we all know your name isn’t Jake,” David said. “But right now we’ve got more important questions we need to ask you. First of all, do you need anything? Water, some food?”

The question caught him off guard, but that surprise quickly gave way to suspicion. Instinctively, his fingers tightened around his sorry-looking duffel bag. Somehow, he had maintained a death grip on it even in sleep. It seemed no one had been able to remove it from him while he was passed out. Relief had Neil relaxing his hands again and examining David’s question.

“What do you care?”

David sighed, but didn’t seem surprised at the non-answer.

“Because you’ve been on the streets longer than anyone your age should be. Because I don’t know when the last time you had a full stomach was. Because you pulled magick from magick and you look like you’re one strong gust of wind away from falling over. Take your pick.”

It didn’t make sense . None of it made sense, and it was really starting to get to him. Usually when people were after Neil, they were trying to kill him or drag him back to his father. They never considered his health and they never would have left him unharmed while he was unconscious and vulnerable.

“Wymack, I don’t think Jake is going to tell us anything unless we talk first. I mean, that’s how it went with K–” 

Nicky was cut off by Kevin attempting to smack him, but was intercepted by Blondie grabbing his wrist as quick as a viper. 

“Get a grip,” Blondie told the other Summoner in a bored tone. Kevin turned red with indignation, but settled down. Then he simply looked at Nicky, causing the Caster to immediately look chastised.  

How strange. While Astral Projection was an advanced manifestation of Spiritual magic, it was by no means as formidable as Elemental Manipulation for Summoning or Location Displacement for Reality Warping. Yet Blondie seemed to be the uncontested leader of their little hierarchy. Somehow, it seemed to work.

“Anyhow, Nicky’s right,” David said once the men on the couch settled down. “So Jake, ask away.”

All eyes were on Neil. He certainly had his fair share of questions. Mary used to say, Listen to what people ask. It tells you what ignorance to exploit. Ironically, Neil didn’t know enough about this den to keep the upper hand. He was as ignorant about them as they were of him. It was a bluffing game, and they were at a stalemate. 

While he couldn’t rely on them to tell the truth, he could always count on liars to inadvertently reveal more than they realized. If there was one game Neil could always win, it was the lying game. He assessed what he knew and what he didn’t know. Names, abilities, dynamics. But one question he’d had in the back of his mind kept nagging at him.

“What the fuck is your name?” he finally asked the Projectionist.

His former shadow, now a flesh-and-blood man, quirked an eyebrow.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

The energy in the room took a curious shape at the implication that Neil spent time thinking about the frustrating man in front of him.

“Blondie.”

Nicky, Matt, and David instantly snickered with unexpected mirth. Even Kevin seemed to be fighting back a small smile. Blondie, of course, wasn’t fazed.

“How about a truth for a truth? I’ll answer one question if you answer one question.”

Neil’s mind turned to strategy. Moves and countermoves. Outsmarting, outthinking. A game of verbal chess and Russian Roulette all rolled into one.

“Oh and Rabbit,” the tiny menace added, “I know how you think. So let me make this more interesting: we both know when the other person is lying–not that I ever lie. So let’s not bother with that. Dishonesty is cheating for particularly stupid people. Secrets are for smarter people.”

“I can agree with that,” Neil concurred, wondering where this was headed.

“So if you don’t want me to know something? Figure out how to keep it to yourself. But if you get caught in a web of your own deception, I’m not going to be the one to untangle you. I’ll let you hang and leave you to rot without looking twice.”

Neil smiled then, sharp and wide. If there was one thing he’d learned about his own personal blond demon over the past few months, it was that he found Neil too interesting to walk away from for very long. He was Blondie’s favorite toy, for better or worse, and that meant he had found his weak spot. All Neil had to do was keep the man’s interest long enough to get the intel he needed to stay invisible from the den, then he’d disappear and leave all this mess behind before the magicians ever knew what happened.

“Deal,” Neil agreed, and he could have sworn he saw Blondie’s eyes darken at that.

“Shall we bind it?” the Projectionist teased, provoking a sharp gasp from Nicky.

“ Minyard, ” David snapped at the magician.

But Neil simply snorted at the ridiculous offer. To bind oneself to a deal was to bind two magicians together on a Cosmic level until the deal was deemed complete or broken. A broken deal had unfathomable consequences directly proportional to the deal-ending offense.

“I don’t think so, Minyard ,” he mocked.

But Blondie didn’t seem bothered that David had partially given away his identity, nor disappointed that Neil turned down the offer that couldn’t possibly have been genuine.

“Andrew,” he said simply.

In a moment of confusion, Neil was tempted to correct him with Actually, it’s Jake , before realizing the magician had spoken his own name.

“Andrew,” he couldn’t help but repeat.

Andrew, Andrew, Andrew.

Andrew seemed to relish hearing his own name come from Neil’s lips. The weight of it settled comfortably in his mouth. It fit. Though Neil wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by fitting .

David cleared his throat, bringing Neil’s focus back to the larger issue. He and Andrew leaned back in their seats. Neil couldn’t couldn’t remember when they had started leaning towards each other in the first place.

“Your turn,” Andrew said. “Who are you running from? And before you come up with some elaborate work around, consider this: if we were working for the people you’re running from, I wouldn’t bother asking.”

It was alarmingly sound logic. Neil didn’t like that. His whole schtick was that he needed to outthink his opponents. 

Was Andrew an opponent? 

Yes, of course he was. Neil just needed to figure out what game they were playing. One of truths, apparently. Who can get the most answers they need without giving up too much dangerous information? A risky game, the only kind Neil knew how to play. 

“My father. He’s a Shaman, and he didn’t take too kindly to my mom and me running out on him. He’s been chasing us for years.”

It was the bare bones of the story. Truthful, but generic enough that Neil could have been one of thousands of similar cases across the country. As if to prove his point, no one in the room so much as blinked an eye at the explanation.

“No offense, Jake, but I know there’s more to it than that,” David said, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen your gift first hand—holy shit, by the way—and I call bullcrap. Someone with your magickal aptitude would have been able to shake your father’s magickal Claim on you a long time ago. It doesn’t make sense that you’ve been running for years. Shamen can be powerful, but they aren’t impossible to block. Especially from a distance, especially from a Summoner like you.”

Neil sucked on his teeth, trying not to be too showy about it. It was the same type of con he worked on David back at the gas station. 

Never show all your cards, always make them come to you.

Another of Mary’s little pearls of wisdom. The magicians would naturally be suspicious of anything Neil told them, so he held back information that he had already decided they could “nudge” out of him. The pretend concession would put them more at ease.

“You’re right that Shamen can be thwarted. That’s why my father made a pact with a daemon when I was born. He used my blood in the Summoning ceremony, and now we’re linked through the beast. He can find me wherever I go.”

He could feel the weight of those words threatening to crush him as he spoke them. Sometimes he wondered what the point of running was, he knew he would eventually lose anyway. But Mary didn’t run for nothing, and he would make sure she didn’t die for nothing. He had to keep going. Keep running.

“It isn’t like my blood is a tracking device. It’s more like the approximation of a satellite signal. He knows the general area I was recently in, and the spell can only be worked during the new moon. But if they find anything I’ve left behind, even a used coffee cup, they can do the spell anytime during the waning moon period and get a closer approximation to my location.”

The words slowly sunk in to the men around the lounge.

“So you’re fucked?” Kevin asked, drawing a glare from Matt.

It was a fair question.

“I’m difficult to find. I cast shields before I sleep. I use my magick minimally to keep my magickal trace faint. I know some incantations to blur my psychic presence. The most important thing is to keep moving, really.” 

Nicky and Matt seemed a little appeased by that, their concern momentarily abated.

“Well, kid, this place is a den of magick. In case you didn’t know, that means you’re safe in here. The den’s enchantments make it impossible for your signature to be detected,” Wymack reassured in a firm voice.

Neil half-smiled, but there was no amusement behind it. Those platitudes were meaningless to him.

“I’m not a member of your den. The den of…?” Neil questioned.

“Foxes. Colloquially known as The Foxhole Court, or the Court.”

Neil huffed mirthlessly.

“ Court . Does that make you the king?”

He didn’t need to look at Kevin to feel him stiffen at the words.

“No, it makes you the fool,” the arrogant Summoner spat.

Neil had a withering joker analogy at the tip of his tongue, but he could already tell Kevin was incorrigible and he didn’t want to be there all night making bad monarchy puns. 

“I’m pack leader, as you might have guessed,” Wymack cut in. “These clowns are in my pack. My second, Dan, is on a supply run with our resident Healer at the moment, but she’ll be back soon enough with the other three. They’re Aaron, Seth, and Allison and you’ll be thrilled you went this long without meeting them.”

Neil did the math in his head.

“There are eight members of your pack, excluding you and the Healer. That’s abnormally small,” Neil observed.

“Our Healer is called Abby, and excluding us there are nine members of our pack,” David corrected. “Renee is in the second parlor.”

Neil’s eyes immediately went to Nicky. He was the easiest to read, with absolutely zero ability to hide his thoughts. The aforementioned man was subtly shifting in his seat, averting his gaze from everyone else. It set Neil on edge.

“Who’s Renee?”

In a calm, level voice Wymack answered, “She’s our Seer.”

Oh fuck no.

Neil immediately stood to leave, but the exits disappeared and the walls began melting. Inconveniently, he was still drained from his fight against the magicians earlier, and his vision started swimming along with the illusions. 

“Let me out of here.”

“Afraid of a little divination?” Kevin sneered. “Is it because you know Renee will See through your bullshit?”

It dawned on Neil that if he was suffering from this much weakness, Kevin would also be feeling the effects of their fight. With the last dregs of his energy, he Summoned a ghost who immediately shrieked in Kevin’s face. The Elementalist jumped a foot in the air with a startled yelp before the ghost dissipated. Neil smugly sat back down, disguising the fact that he was on the verge of collapsing from that display.

“Scared of a little ghost?” Neil taunted.

The look Kevin shot Neil was murderous, which amused Neil to no end.

“Are you children done?” Andrew asked in a bored tone.

“I’m not meeting with the Seer,” Neil told him.

Andrew gave him a pitying smile, which immediately annoyed him more than Kevin’s shenanigans had.

“But little Rabbit, you already have.”

Neil stilled. A cool, liquid anxiety filled his veins and began preparing him for the next fight-or-flight.

“You see, Jake ,” Andrew said the name with derision, as if it tasted foul in his mouth. “The entire reason you’re here is because of Renee. She saw you in a vision and told us in no uncertain terms that you had to come to the Foxes. You’re here because you were always going to end up here. We just helped speed things along.”

A sound like water rushing roared in Neil’s ears. How could he have run with Mary from one vision all those years ago, only to end up in the hands of another one? He felt trapped. Trapped by visions, trapped in this den of Foxes.

[Nathaniel. You can’t fight them on your own.]

Fuck, he was too exhausted to completely block her out. Neil frantically tried strengthening the shields in his mind. The only problem was that she was the one who taught him those incantations and she knew how to get around them when he was debilitated.

[I can get you out. You don’t know what I know. There are tricks I never told you about, Nathaniel. Let me out. Let me out…]

It was too much, her voice was getting clearer and stronger. If he wasn’t careful, she would become the only voice in his head. He squeezed his eyes and started whispering the recitations to help focus on his own voice instead of hers.

“My own body, my own mind, my own soul, my own magick. I am, I am, I am. My skin is stone, my mind has walls, my soul unbound, my magick free. I am, I am, I am.”

It was a familiar favorite, the chant he drew most comfort from. Slowly, the unwelcome presence in his head began to recede. When he was certain all his shields were intact, he opened his eyes again and realized he had been tightly clutching his head with his fists. He refused to make eye contact with the Foxes.

Kevin, of course, broke the awkward silence.

“Great. He’s crazy too.”

“He wouldn’t have survived this long if he was crazy,” David objected. “But I don’t know how long you survived if you can’t recognize a basic recitation for Spiritual protection.”

Interestingly enough, Kevin’s entire face flushed with embarrassment and he kept his mouth shut. Apparently, David’s opinion mattered more to him than Andrew’s threats. He must be some pack leader to elicit respect from someone with their head so far up their own ass.

“Hey Rabbit, I’ve got a little query for you.” Andrew’s voice was playful, which Neil didn’t trust for a second. “Protection chants are meant to keep Spiritual intruders at bay. But I know for a fact that nothing can breach the magick of this den. If I’m doing my math right, this has to be some kind of ‘the call is coming from inside the house’ type situation. So tell me Jakey, who’s got your number?”

“I’m not a member of this den, that doesn’t apply to me,” Neil stated lowly.

Andrew sighed as if Neil was being purposefully dense.

“Wymack Claimed you as a refugee of the den while you were passed out.”

Every muscle in Neil’s body stilled at those impossible words.

“You officially have all the rights and protections as a member of this pack. Are you really that weak that you can’t feel the Cosmic magic in your veins?”

It was meant to be a taunt, but there was a genuine question underneath the jab. Somehow Neil realized that this was Andrew trying to figure out how exhausted he was. But Neil didn’t have the energy to deal with the magician’s morbid curiosity. His mind was too busy reeling from the revelation that he had been Claimed by a den . 

Sure, he wasn’t pack. It was best that way, though. No permanence, he didn’t have to answer to anyone. He didn’t belong to anyone. Some part of him would maintain fealty to the den while he was under their protection, of course, but once that period was over he was free to go.

He closed his eyes and focused his magick inward. This was always easy, as natural as breathing. Feeling the connection to the Cosmos, to Magick Itself, was effortless. He tentatively reached out with his magick and felt Cosmic magick eagerly rush up to greet him.

It felt warm. The magick of the Claim was alive and humming with contentness. Neil tugged a little on the thread and felt an answering tug. If he opened his senses a bit, he could feel where the thread split off to wrap around and unite the others. Daunted by that connection, Neil pulled back and let the thrum of Cosmic magick fade to the recesses of his mind.

“I feel it,” Neil answered quietly.

The room stayed quiet, likely giving Neil a moment to deal with the overwhelming pull of belonging they had all once undergone when they were Claimed. 

“You’re a Spiritual Summoner, is it safe to assume that thing in your head belongs to the Otherworld?” David asked tactfully. 

Neil could lie. He could lie through his teeth. Just because David had given him refuge didn’t mean he owed the guy anything. But the magician was looking right into his eyes as if he could read Neil’s mind. Like he knew exactly the kind of person that Neil was, and wasn’t afraid or angered by it. Just ready to deal with it whenever Neil was ready to be dealt with.

It also hadn’t escaped Neil’s notice that the guy hadn’t asked him for his real name, or even his father’s name. David wasn’t pushing as much as he could, and that almost meant something.

Finally, Neil answered, “Yeah, something like that.”

Curiously, he almost felt some shame at not offering more.

He immediately swallowed it down to be disposed of later.

“No worries, man! Renee could help you cast out any unwanted presence that has a hold on you,” Nicky offered with a hopeful smile.

“No!” Neil blurted with alarm. “I mean… no. It’s fine. I can handle it.”

Nicky’s smile faltered a bit, but he nodded.

“That’s cool, I get it. You don’t want someone rummaging around in your head. You’ve got that in common with this guy,” he nudged Andrew with his elbow and ignored the scowl thrown back at him. “He doesn’t even like people asking him how his day is going! How he’s friends with Renee and Bee, I’ll never understand.” 

Andrew was friends with a bee?

“Bee is Betsy Dobson,” David clarified. “You’ll meet her eventually.”

Andrew stage-whispered to Neil, “And by that he means that you’ll meet her when he thinks you’re capable of handling it without having another mental breakdown.”

What a fucking asshole. 

“Too bad I’m not planning on sticking around for long. You’ll miss the dramatics.”

The little Projectionist tutted with a knowing grin.

“Oh, Rabbit, you have no idea how wrong you are. The next time you find yourself losing your mind, I promise you , I’ll be right there. I’ve been on your scent for months now and we both know you aren’t getting away from me that easily.”

The threat was at odds with Andrew’s self-assured tone and silky-smooth voice, but he felt the full weight of that promise anyway. Neil ignored the goosebumps rising across his skin underneath the threadbare sweats and jacket we wore. He knew better than to take the man’s words lightly, but he also knew better than to show when he’d been rattled.

“There’s a really interesting vibe in this room,” Matt commented lightly.

Again, Neil and Andrew leaned back in their seats. Again, he hadn’t realized they were leaning toward each other in the first place.

David pinched the bridge of his nose then, suddenly looking very done with everything. 

“Look,” the pack leader started, “You don’t have to talk to Bee unless you become pack, which I know isn’t on your agenda for today. But you do have to talk to Renee.”

Before Neil could protest, David cut him off with a glare.

“She had a vision of you that is going to impact all of us, only she won’t tell anyone what it is until she talks to you first. You know as well as I do what happens to fools who think they can outrun visions. Now are you the kind of idiot who thinks he can ignore the Fates until they go away? Or are you going to grow up and talk to Renee so we can see what kind of a shitstorm is headed our way?”

Neil clenched his jaw, biting back a thousand curses and swears that were ready to fire. David was right, and oh how he hated the man’s knack of using logic against him. 

“Promise not to melt the door while I’m in the other parlor,” Neil grumbled as he got up to go into the other room.

“Sorry about that,” he heard Matt murmur as he passed through the now-functional door and into the belly of the beast.

Closing the door behind him, Neil felt distinctly trapped. Unfortunately, the alternative was worse: letting the other Foxes hear the vision for the first time along with Neil.

He walked around the room, pointedly ignoring the woman sitting at a small, circular table at the center of the room. The dimensions of the room were off, Neil could tell that immediately. For one, there were large glass windows all around the parlor, giving a view of the outside that should have been prevented by the other rooms. It was also much larger than the real estate should have allowed for. Neil wondered if a magician had charmed the room, or if the den had magick of its own that molded itself according to the needs of its pack.

He had to admit to himself that the room was gorgeous. The walls were a dark blue, like the night sky. The ceiling had been painted to look like the milky way, and golden fairy lights were placed in strategic positions to light the room enough for clear visibility, but also kept the space dim enough for ambiance. There was a low table with fluffy pillows instead of chairs in one corner, a chaise lounge with a nighttime dream catcher and daytime dream catcher pressed against another wall, and another corner with more fluffy pillows on top of a lush, deep red carpet. 

There was some clutter and knickknacks strewn about: precious stones and small statues adorned an apothecary, star charts and gem classification posters decorated the walls. But eventually Neil ran out of reasons to procrastinate and took a seat in front of his new nemesis. Renee had a very light shade of blonde cut sharply to her chin, with alternating pastel colors at the tips. She was obviously taller than Neil, even sitting down. There was kindness in her eyes, but cunning in the way they watched him.

Neil didn’t need to expand his senses to know that two very distinct worlds lived inside of the Seer.

Renee warmly at him. He hated her.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here,” she beamed at him.

“That makes one of us,” Neil responded.

Renee simply laughed, shaking her head at herself.

“I know, these aren’t ideal circumstances. It’s my fault, really. I should have known that telling Andrew about you would have been too much temptation. By the Fates, you would have ended up here anyway. Well, you know how he can be,” she said fondly.

Too much temptation?

“Anyway, first thing’s first: Would you like for me to call you Jake?”

“What else would you call me?” Neil huffed.

“Your real name,” Renee said bluntly.

Neil stiffened immediately, which Renee pretended not to notice.

“The name I was given at birth isn’t my real name,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Nor is mine,” the Seer agreed serenely.

Taken aback, Neil’s anger began losing steam. Unless he was incredibly mistaken, Renee had unnecessarily given information about herself to make them even. It was weirdly respectful. And, if he was being honest with himself, the magician didn’t seem to be looking for a fight. 

The Seer didn’t have a say in having visions of Neil as much as Neil didn’t have a say in being a part of said visions. They were both trying to work with the cards they were dealt, and Renee was winning in the patience category. He didn’t have to like her, but he could understand that she wasn’t purposefully against him, at least.

Gods, he felt wrung-out and bone-weary.

“Neil,” he said tiredly. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Renee politely responded, pretending she didn’t already know it.

“Don’t call me that in front of the others. And don’t tell them after I’m gone,” he added.

The Seer’s eyes sparkled with mischief and she winked at him.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about me telling other magicians’ secrets.”

How funny, because all Neil had done since arriving at Palmetto was worry.

“Can you show me the vision?”

All he wanted was to get this night over with so he could sleep. Maybe have some of that dinner David was talking about, if he was invited. He couldn’t assume he’d be welcome to the pack’s provisions just because he was Claimed. 

Lost in own head, it took him a moment to realize Renee had gone quiet and was staring at him curiously. 

“How do you know visions can be shown?”

Unexpectedly pulled out of his thoughts, it took a moment for him to understand the question.

“What?”

“Seers tell their visions,” she explained calmly. “No one knows that they can actually show another magician their visions. Seers rarely share them, and even more rarely reveal to non-Seers that they can. How do you know about that?”

Oh. Oh fuck.

This was actually Neil’s fault. How could he be this stupid? How could he speak without thinking? He was under the protection of the den, but he still considered it enemy territory. Yet here he was, dropping his guard just because he was warm and dry with the potential of having food and a bed tonight.

His mother was right, he wasn’t cut to survive on his own.

“I–um–”

Renee reached out her hand to touch Neil’s, but he jerked it back as if it were corrosive. Unfazed, Renee took her hand back.

“You don’t have to answer, if you’re not comfortable telling me,” she stated simply. “I’m going to go ahead and assume that you were close with a Seer who felt comfortable confiding in you. If anything, that tells me you’re more trustworthy than you probably realize.”

Neil blinked dumbly at her.

What just happened? The Seer couldn’t possibly move on from that as if it were that easy. As if he weren’t some troublemaker off the street that was willing to kill another Summoner to save his own neck.

Only that’s exactly what she was doing. Backing off, giving him space. It had to be a trap, right?

He missed his mom. She’d know what was going on. She’d get him out in the blink of an eye, then explain everything while they laid back-to-back before they fell asleep for the night.

“I’ll show you the vision,” she said sympathetically.

He hated to think she could sense his distress, so he refused to think about it.

“Are you okay holding hands?”

Neil nodded and watched as she got up to go retrieve something. When she took her place at the table again, she had set down what could have been a small crystal ball, but was made from a rich, royal blue stone instead.

“Lapis lazuli?” Neil guessed.

Renee crooked a smile that looked more natural on her than the respectful ones she wore earlier.

“Conducive to the third eye, a personal favorite of mine,” she admitted.

“No incense?” he teased.

Renee snorted unflatteringly, which helped put Neil a little more at ease. 

“No incense, no candles. I’d rather not have an asthma attack in the middle of a divination,” she quipped.

“I’m guessing that’s a ‘no’ for smudging too, then.”

“Cultural appropriation,” she chided with a knowing look.

“You’re a barrel of laughs, Renee.”

“I know I am,” she smirked. “Now, are you ready to stop distracting me and see the vision?”

Neil scowled at her and took her outstretched hands. He couldn’t help but notice a familiar pattern of calluses on her hands. Almost as if she were used to handling… 

Knives.

Neil’s eyes shot up to Renee’s, instinctively seeking out danger. She accepted this, serenely awaiting his assessment.

“I don’t have them anymore,” she said quietly but not meekly. “I can tell you about it after, if you want.”

Neil took a deep breath and started counting in French. His pounding heart eventually settled and he gave a sharp nod to her.

“Ready.”

Renee closed her eyes and allowed all the muscles in her body to loosen. Neil marveled at the way she trusted the Psionic magick so easily. When her eyes opened again, she was relaxed.

“Focus on the stone, I’ll get us there and get us out safely.”

It was easy to focus on the lapis lazuli. The sphere seemed to be drawing his attention, pulling him in deeper and deeper. 

^-.-^

His skin was on fire. 

Screaming made him deaf to any other sound. Belatedly, he realized the screaming was coming from him.

His vision was dark at the edges and blurred by tears. Was he mercifully on the verge of fainting, or had he already woken up from unconsciousness?

“Hold still, Junior,” a cruel voice jeered. “You’re going to ruin the beautiful art I’m making.”

Sharp nails dug into his jaw as Lola Malcolm held his head in place. He didn’t have the strength to jerk away from her, and his arms had gone numb from being cuffed above his head for so long.

The smell of burnt flesh reached his nose and Neil gagged as he realized it was the scent of his own acrid flesh thickening the air.

“You better knock that off! If you get vomit on me you are in sooo much trouble.”

Neil took heaving breaths, trying to not to breathe in through his nose. Now he was keenly aware of the taste of iron in his mouth. He’d bitten the inside of his cheek raw and the bottom of his lip bloody. How long had he tried to muffle his cries until it all became too much? 

“I only get you for so long before I have to hand you over to your daddy, so you better cooperate. You think he’s going to be as nice to you as I am?”

She trailed her greedy hands over his body reverently. He didn’t need to look at her to know what expression was on her face. He remembered what her hunger looked like. 

“I wonder if he’ll finish you off quickly, or let you live to see what he does to those little Foxes of yours.”

That stirred some life back into Neil.

“Wha’?” he slurred.

“Oh, Junior,” Lola crooned sympathetically. “You didn’t think we’d let the pack that harbored you survive, did you? No, no, baby. They’re going to learn what happens when someone tries stealing Nathan Wesninski’s property. I hope you had a good month with them. I hope it was worth it.”

No! They had to be protected by the den, right? They couldn’t be harmed in the den.

“You can’t, you c-”

Lola laughed cruelly before backhanding him across the face, right where his fresh burns were. Neil let out a piercing scream that made his ragged throat ache.

“Don’t tell me what we can and can’t do. You’ve been a fool, Nathaniel. You think that pack of degenerate magicians is safe and tucked away inside their den? Ha! Junior, they’re all out looking for you.”

Horror dawned on Neil. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“You see, foxes have their little holes to hide in. But we have the fire to draw them out,” Lola purred in his ear.

“No! No, please! Leave them out of this! Lola I’m begging–”

“Burn, baby, burn,” she said softly while trailing her finger up to Neil’s dead wrists.

Excruciating pain bloomed everywhere she touched.

^-.-^

The table was vibrating when Neil came out of the trance.

The table and the chair and the floor and–

Oh. Neil was shaking.

A cold sweat had broken out over his skin. His yet-to-be-melted skin. The scars under his torso were one thing. They could be hidden, and most days he couldn’t even feel them when he shifted around. But burns?

Apparently he wouldn’t live long enough to figure out how to deal with them.

None of the Foxes would.

Renee had seen this months ago and kept it to herself. Why? He looked up to ask her but it wasn’t Renee that was looking back at him. It was her body and her face, but not her expression. Not her essence.

Not her soul.

“Mom,” Neil breathed out with disbelief.

It was uncanny, the way Mary’s ruthlessness settled so well over Renee’s features. Uncanny, but entirely surprising.

“Nathaniel,” she answered. 

His entire body reacted to her voice, making him realize his hands were still entwined with Renee’s. He hadn’t felt his mom in so long. 

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

He flinched at the coldness in those words, and at the truth of them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, unable to look away from her disappointed stare.

“Do you see why you need to listen to me? This vision isn’t something that can be undone. The Seen cannot be Unseen…”

“...It can only be survived,” he finished.

One of her old warnings.

He missed his mom. Not this person sitting in front of him. Not Mary. He wanted his mom , and he wondered how her warmth had gotten so small and invisible that it disappeared entirely and left him with this brutal magician.

“You think you can survive this? There’s only one way to survive this, Nathaniel.”

Neil broke eye contact then, wanting to look anywhere else.

“I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. You can try to lock me out, but I’m your mother. Your flesh and blood. You can no more get rid of me than you can get rid of your bones and still walk away.”

He refused to look at her, afraid he might listen.

“Fine. Have it your way. We’ll do a reading.”

There was a deck of tarot cards on the table that hadn’t been there before he went into the vision. They were the same customized deck Mary had been using for years.

He didn’t bother asking how she manifested them.

She released his hands to pull out the cards and shuffle them. He felt the loss and relief instantaneously. She arranged the cards and instructed him to pick.

He immediately knew which card he was going to choose, but pretended to think long and hard about it. He pointed at the card he had spotted, and she held it up.

The Fool, upright.

Yeah, that seemed about right.

“This card has more than one meaning,” Mary intoned. 

As she said that, she angled the card just so, and a completely different image of The Fool appeared, as if the card were holographic. Neither of them were versions that had existed in her deck before. Even in death, Mary wielded power. 

The first image was of a young redheaded man in an ornate blue tunic. In his hand was a rat that he appeared to be studying. There was a sword sheathed against his hip, and various instruments for acquiring knowledge in the background. It was colorful and adventurous. One of the most beautiful depictions he had ever seen.

“The first iteration tells the story of a boy thirsting for knowledge he does not yet have,” Mary explained. “He knows he has ignorance, and seeks to correct his foolishness. With more knowledge gained, the world around him brightens and he begins to see the possibilities he had never dreamt of before. He has a new life and is thriving.”

That seemed nice. 

“Obviously, this will not be your future,” Mary decided.

Memories of that awful vision Renee had shown him flashed through his mind, erasing any hope that the first card would be his path.

The second depiction was black-and-white with some gold highlights. A skeleton in a wooded area strummed some kind of string instrument with stars and a full moon shining behind its head. The skeleton wore an ornate gown but no shoes. It was surrounded by trees bearing fruit perched on a jagged rock. 

“The second iteration represents a different kind of turning point. Having lost everything, even the meaning to life, The Fool must make something out of nothing. With life forfeit, the skeleton can now differentiate between survival and life, between having and possessing, between needing and wanting. With this new clarity, The Fool gains spiritual fulfillment.”

Spiritual fulfillment seemed like a sorry consolation prize for dying. Neil really, really didn’t want to die.

“Is that one me?” he asked.

Mary’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again. It was strange to see that happen on the face of someone who hadn’t yet developed all the lines that came from age and a lifetime of disappointment.

“Don’t be an idiot. None of them are you, Nathaniel. The cards represent possibilities, not aspects.”

Neil mulled that over, but couldn’t really make sense of it.

“The Fool is someone who will lose his naivete and discover something about himself and the world around him. Usually this happens after making a misstep, usually something good comes of it.”

Mary put the card back and gave Neil a considering look. She reshuffled the cards. 

“Something’s in the air. Pick another.”

“But–”

“ Nathaniel. ”

Neil picked out another card and held it up himself. It was The Fool, reversed.

Mary snorted. He liked it better on Renee. 

The cards were in flux again, caught between two images.

“What does it mean when it’s reversed?”

Mary yanked the card from his hand and put all the cards back in the deck. 

“It means you should’ve listened to me.”

“ Mom, ” Neil implored desperately.

She pursed her lips, but tilted the reversed card in a way that showed the ornately dressed young man.

“You are unfinished. There are parts of yourself that are undeveloped, or yet to be discovered. Something is holding you back from your full capabilities. Your eyes are not going inward, and consequently you cannot see yourself. Without this necessary understanding, you will be trapped in darkness and never grow into yourself.”

A part of Neil was indignant at the reading. His ability to conjure souls as a Summoner meant that his senses were far more advanced than the average magicians, not to mention all the specialized training Mary drilled into him. 

If nothing else, Mary was likely trying to show him how much he needed her due to his own limitations. 

She shifted the angle at which she held the card and revealed the reversed skeleton. 

“You’re holding onto things that are keeping you blind to possibilities. This unnecessary baggage is not keeping you in a blindfold–it is the blindfold itself. You have the power to remove it, but something keeps you from knowing the truth. Eventually, you will need to decide whether to trust your instincts and let go of the weight that has become as familiar as your own, or hold onto it and let it drown you.”

She put the card back in the deck and he let his eyes drift back to the lapis lazuli.

“Nathaniel.”

Was it the daemon running through Neil’s own blood that would be his undoing? He could no more get rid of that beast as he could get rid of his own veins.

“Nathaniel, look at me.”

He knew Mary wanted him to leave the Foxes behind, but they both knew the new vision would come true regardless of his location. 

“Abram,” Mary said.

Neil looked up at his mom. There was a pang in his chest the way only Mary knew how to deliver.

“I can help you,” she urged. 

Neil shook his head, confused.

“Mom, there’s no stopping what’s been Seen.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I can get you out of this. I can make sure you get out of it alive. Nathaniel, trust me. I know things. There are tricks up my sleeves.”

Maybe, maybe Neil could survive. If his dad beat him up good enough that he may as well be dead, then forced him to work for the gang. Neil could be a personal tool at his disposal: assassin, enforcer, communications specialist. If he could be of use, there may be enough of a justification to keep him alive. None of that had anything to do with Mary, though.

“Maybe if you were still here…” Neil appeased.

“That’s my entire point,” Mary snapped at him. “I’m here right now, aren’t I? I can stay. I can keep an eye on you from here.”

Neil stilled as cold dread began spreading throughout his limbs.

“What are you talking about?”

Mary touched his hand then, in the pantomime of long-dead maternal instincts.

“This psychic is an incredibly powerful Seer. Her magickal aptitude is truly remarkable. Our magick is compatible, my spirit can stay in her body,” she explained.

It took all of Neil’s strength to keep the sheer horror off his face and out of his voice.

“Mom,” he said evenly, “You are not going to stay in possession of Renee’s body.”

Not only was extended possession unnatural, it was a gross violation of another person’s autonomy. 

“I won’t be in full possession the entire time. The girl will still be here, but I will be tucked into a corner of her mind ready to come out if you need me. She’ll have her body, I’ll just be piggybacking off of her Sight. I’ll stay on the lookout and protect you when they come. No one will know, don’t you see? That’s how I get you out.”

But Renee called him Neil. She promised to keep his secrets. And she didn’t press for details when he slipped up about his knowledge of Divination. When he was uncomfortable, she freely offered personal information to put him at ease.

He’d known her for all of ten minutes and she’d treated him like they were lifelong friends.

And the thing that baffled Neil the most was the vision: Renee had seen it months ago. 

Yet, despite the danger she knew he posed to the pack, she asked them to seek him out so he could get to shelter. He was a stranger, but she wanted to protect him. She brought him into her home , and he brought Mary into her mind.

Neil’s eyes rolled up to the back of his head.

“Spirits, hear me, for I create–”

“Nathaniel, what are you doing?” Mary screeched

“Spirits, hear me, for I destroy–”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“I am the Summoner who calls to you, I am the Summoner who sends you home.”

“You’ll die, you fool! You can’t do this on your own, listen to me! ”

“Depart from this mortal realm, by your name I release you Mary.”

It took a moment for Neil’s sight to settle back into his eyes. Seeing with his Senses wasn’t something he was used to doing, as communing with the Otherworld wasn’t a habit of his. When he blinked back the spots in his eyes, there was a young magician sitting across from him.

“Renee?” he tentatively said.

Mary had seemed confident she could hide her presence from her host, but she hadn’t counted on Neil forcibly banishing her spirit.

“It’s me,” Renee answered softly.

She wore a sad smile, which didn’t give Neil enough clues. She could be sad about the vision or she could be sad about nearly becoming a living puppet, ready to be switched on at a moment’s notice.

“How are you feeling?”

Neil winced at his own question. Anyone who knew him longer than a minute would immediately become suspicious at him inquiring over another person’s wellbeing.

“Why did you send your mother away?” she asked, almost as if she couldn’t help it.

Neil opened his mouth, helplessly searching for some kind of answer.

“It’s your body. It’s your mind. I couldn’t just let Mary… you’re a person. Not a thing, I didn’t want you to become one of her tools. I don’t know, Renee.”

Renee simply nodded, as if he were telling the truth. 

The truth was that he was terrified of Renee being used like that, but he had no idea why. She wasn’t his friend, he didn’t even know who she was before today. 

“Thank you, it must have been difficult,” she said.

And it was too much for him. Why was this magician so sad for him? Why did she care? Why did she look at him as if his pain mattered? Like he deserved better?

“I’m going to get your pack killed,” he said with a thick voice.

Renee’s smile went softer, a little less sad.

“No, you won’t.”

Neil laughed humorlessly at her easy response.

“We both saw the same vision. There’s no stopping what’s been Seen.”

Renee sat up straighter and looked at him with steely eyes. It looked so similar to Mary’s determined expression. Gods, he would probably have nightmares about her face for months .

“I don’t need to tamper with the Fates. I have faith you will make it out alive. We’re all going to survive this, Neil. You’ll see.”

He didn’t understand how Renee could believe everything would work out. She had the calluses of a hard life scarring her hands, the proof of his weakness in her mind’s eye, and conclusive evidence that the only thing he was good for was running. 

“Because of all the terrible things I’ve lived through,” she told him carefully, “I know what it is possible to live through. And there is life on the other side waiting for you.”

Personally, Neil thought it was only the Otherworld waiting for him on the other side. The Otherworld and the daemon tying him to his father. It wouldn’t be a peaceful death for him. There wasn't any rest for people like him.

“Hold on, I have something that’ll help,” Renee mumbled to herself as she went to rummage through the apothecary table.

“Ah, here it is!” She came back and placed something in front of Neil. 

“It’s a necklace.”

“Yup.”

Neil looked at Renee.

Renee looked at Neil.

Neil looked back at the necklace.

“Tiger’s Eye,” she supplied helpfully.

“I can see that,” he stated.

“It helps people overcome fear, take risks, balance difficult emotions, and shift toward a more positive mindset.”

“I am aware.”

Renee only hummed, not giving in Neil’s version of a tantrum.

“Why did you put it on the table?” he finally asked.

“Neil, it’s for you,” she answered placidly.

He grabbed the jewelry and held it up, examining the beautiful beads that alternated between darker and lighter colors. It was simple, but striking. He couldn’t remember ever having been given a gift with no strings attached, let alone one this nice.

He wanted to ask her a thousand questions. Demand to know what gave her the right to be kind to him, and what makes her think he was worth trying to save. 

He put the necklace on and shut the hell up. 

There were no voices in his head calling him stupid for trusting someone so easily. Instead, there was a magician in front of him with deft hands and a quicker smile who called him by his name.

He almost forgot to say thank you, unused to needing those words. He was pleased he remembered how to say them. She didn’t hug him on his way out, or try to touch his hand again. That made him feel warm.

Andrew was still on the couch when he went back to the first parlor. The smell of herbs and spices reached Neil’s nose, and he assumed everyone else was getting ready for dinner. The young magician’s eyes flicked from the necklace resting along Neil’s collarbone back up to his eyes. The Projectionist’s body seemed to relax minutely with understanding.

“What’s the verdict, rabbit?”

I’m going to get you killed, Neil thought.

“House arrest, no chance of parole,” Neil answered.

Andrew let his head fall back with a singular Ha! He was always so pleased when Neil played along. He wouldn’t be so amused if he knew how high the stakes were in this game.

“Let’s go get dinner. I’m starving from having to deal with you trying to kill Kevin. Next time, either finish him off or leave him alone. His whining is insufferable.”

Andrew got up from the couch and led the way to the dining room without bothering to confirm that Neil was following him. Of course Neil was following him.

Where else would he go?

End of Part 1