Chapter Text
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Luz grimaces at the echoing din of the sentient grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Normally, it faded into the background, dismissed as ambience, but with her current task at hand, it only makes her feel watched and judged.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The abundance of paperwork is spread out in front of her, taking up every inch of free space on Eda’s fancy headmaster desk. Luz taps a foot anxiously against the plush rug as she reads and rereads descriptions of her latest applicants.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
With the rebuilding of the Boiling Isles came a full overhaul of its government. Luz had been an unofficial representative at first, spreading the word of new positions and vetting the ones who applied to ensure Belos’ ideas didn’t crawl back into leadership. It’d only taken a few years until she’d received an official role as the Boiling Isles Realm Representative.
In lesser words, it was her job to keep things from devolving into utter chaos.
With the removal of covens and the lift on banning wild witches, quite a few talented witches had come out of the woodwork. Luz had a few prime candidates to keep her eye on. It was hard to gauge how to keep bad apples out of their new system, but she wasn’t the only one in charge of hiring anymore, so the pressure wasn’t…particularly as immense as before.
Still….she had her work cut out for her.
DONG .
“Titan!” Luz jumps in her seat, cringing as the hour strikes and the gong reverberates through the office. As if an elaborate entrance cue, the double doors swing open and Eda saunters in. Her headmaster's robes swing jauntily as she walks, and Owlbert sits primly on her shoulder. They’re in a good mood — and frankly, Luz is not.
Luz grunts, hardly offering a greeting as she jabs a finger towards the grandfather clock. “That thing needs to go.”
“…ouch,” the clock mutters dejectedly.
Eda snorts, well-aware of when one of her owlets was in a mood. She approaches the desk, looking at the files of paperwork with a disinterested gaze. “Ya know, you could go to your own office .”
“It’s not built yet ,” Luz fires back before sticking out her tongue. “This is important. I’m trying to choose candidates for the main role as Head of Social Relations.”
“Sounds disgusting.” Eda, predictably, had no favor for any of the government roles.
Luz ignores the jab, gesturing to her spread. “See anyone that catches your eye?”
Eda finally rounds the desk, leaning against the wide leather chair that Luz is plopped into. She points with a sharply manicured finger at each file. “Boring. Boring. Thin-spined. No real motives. Boring. Pyromaniac. …oh, I went to school with that girl—“
“Eda,” Luz groans.
“You’re asking the wrong lady, kid,” Eda mutters, moving her hand to muss Luz’s hair. Luz grunts and swats Eda’s hand away. “Edaaa. My hair’s too long to be doing that anymore.”
“I’ll say. It looks ridiculous.” Eda barks a laugh as Luz pouts and tries to smooth out her curls. “Look, I seek out the ones who need education, not the ones who oughta already know what they’re doing.”
“You’d think being principal is close enough to understanding government,” a high voice proclaims from the doorway. King wanders in, his amulet thumping against his chest as he ambles to Luz’s side. He jumps onto the desk with a quiet hup to join the conversation.
(These days, he was tall enough to not need height gains anymore, but old habits died hard.)
Eda huffs in response as King shuffles through applications. “It’s a different job. Governments are like managing a circus without being able to laugh at any of the acts.”
“Amity laughs at them all the time,” Luz points out. Unlike Luz, Amity had no patience or grace for public relations — “worn it all out as a child”, as she said it — and inevitably couldn’t take part in many of Luz’s responsibilities. It made things a bit lonely sometimes, but Luz understood. Not to mention when she had some especially hard-headed disputes happening between members, she only had to whisk Amity in for everyone to get set straight.
“What about this person?” King holds up an application, squinting at the photo of the older witch on the front page. “Ten years as a potion master in the Femur Desert. That’s pretty metal.”
“Sounds like someone who only wanted to stay out of trouble until someone else fixed it,” Eda mutters.
“No, it doesn’t!”
“How can someone who stuck it out in a desert for a decade know anything about public relations?”
“And how different are you exactly?”
Luz ignores the mild squabble between King and Eda as her eyes fall on her and Amity’s wedding photo perched on the corner of the desk. She can’t help the smile that forms just at the sight.
Amity still contributed to their city overhaul in more ways than one. In just the past month, she’d been promoted to head engineer in the Abomination and Construction cohort; Luz thought all their projects were insane but Amity knew all the details and gushed about it whenever she could.
Her lovely and amazing wife was not only fulfilling her civic duty, but doing it all while pregnant . Luz always wondered how the routine went; if Amity got annoyed by coworkers being overprotective, by her belly getting in the way of projects, by the side effects of it all. She wondered if Amity would talk to their daughter about the intricacies of abominations in the quiet of her workshop when no one else was around.
Their daughter . The thought still made Luz’s head spin. She makes a small mental note to tell Amity it was about time to start cutting back on hours a bit. They only had a couple of months left before their small family of two became three.
“You’re crazy!” King suddenly blurts, stamping his feet and inevitably shuffling the applications underneath him. Eda only sticks out her tongue before picking up a folder from her files and heading towards the door. “Luz, tell her she’s crazy!”
Luz blinks, fully lost on the argument. “…I wasn’t listening.”
King huffs, hopping off the desk in one fluid motion. He was much nimbler on his feet; Luz would be lying if she said she didn’t miss his clumsy days of falling over everything. “You’re supposed to vindicate me.”
“Sorry,” Luz sing-songs as she fixes her rows of paperwork. “You’re getting smarter anyhow. You don’t need me for that.”
King twitches his tail, still not eager to leave the room. “Well…I know you’re busy, but could we do some glyph practice today?”
Truthfully, Luz is utterly drained and wants nothing more than a nap and some trashy reality TV. But glyph magic was important to King; she’d feel horrible taking that comfort away.
She offers him a smile, hiding her weariness. “Of course.”
King taps his claws together with glee before running out of the office like a shot. Luz releases a heavy sigh once he’s gone. It’s not like working through exhaustion was a strange thing to her; having her baby would only make it more frequent anyway.
It’s good practice , she thinks as she sorts out the applications into one neat pile. For now, she still had some agency in what she could do during the day and she’d be damned if she didn’t use the opportunity.
The walk from Eda’s office to the practice arena isn’t terribly long. Luz runs into a few familiar faces on the way, mainly professors she’d worked under during her university years. She does run into Gus and the two share an overly elaborate handshake before continuing on their way. Luz is in a good mood once she reaches King.
The practice arena was an overgrown and secluded area, trees outlining the full perimeter to avoid prying eyes. Unlike most arenas, there wasn’t a place to spectate here. Luz wanted there to be a spot for witches to build confidence without judgment; and King took full advantage of the solitude, spending hours hunched in the dirt, drawing sigil after sigil.
As Luz enters, King doesn’t look up, highly invested in practicing his glyphs in the loose dirt underneath him. Similar drawings surround his small frame, most of them crossed out or scribbled haphazardly.
“How’s it going?” Luz drops beside him, a puff of dust billowing up from the motion. King finally turns to her, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “…I don’t think I’m really getting anywhere with this one,” he muses, sounding disappointed.
Luz studies their latest project, the plant glyph. There’s a mass of organic shapes and swooping lines, a mimicry of nature’s characteristics. King’s glyphs were becoming more powerful with time; before, he’d have to draw a sigil twice as large as himself to have any effect. Now, his drawings were relatively mid-sized, barely taller than his torso.
Luz squints, eyes roaming over the lines. “Okay. Let’s see. From what I remember, your dad’s plant sigil involved referencing blooming plants. Which makes sense; you want to consider the element as the basis of your glyph.”
King hums, his tail twitching behind him. “I’ve tried that. I feel like I’m on the right track, but the combinations don’t come to me. It’s so frustrating.”
“Don’t worry,” Luz assures. “It’ll just take time. Practice the ones you know already. I want to see how fast you can form them.”
King sighs but obliges, rising to his feet and padding over to a relatively clear spot in the dirt. He sticks a dusty claw into the ground before promptly scrawling out a light sigil. He nearly trips as he walks, but his lines are confident and that’s all Luz was looking for.
He taps the sigil with his foot. The two of them watch as a shining orb forms, rising above them and disappearing into the tree leaves. Luz basks in the warmth of its glow, a fleeting sense of nostalgia whisked away as the orb dissipates into the sky.
“Good.” Luz smiles, pride blooming in her chest. King scampers to the side and scrawls out a second glyph, his tail wagging behind him.
This one takes him a bit longer. He pauses at intervals, reconsidering his lines until Luz offers gentle reminders. Eventually, he completes it, tapping it with his foot and alighting a blaze that stings Luz’s eyes. The fire is gone almost as fast as it’d formed, but it was strong, and that’s all she needed to see.
“Fire and light,” Luz intones, before breaking out a knowing smile. “I’d say those are two very useful spells on their own. Don’t rush the last two.”
King shrugs. “I don’t really know if I’m getting better.”
“Of course you are! Every day!” Luz gets to her feet, scooping King up and swinging him into a hug. He giggles, clutching onto her as his legs dangle from her hold. “Have you forgotten that you’re able to start using glyphs in the human realm ?”
It’d been an accident then. Luz had activated a glyph out of pure muscle memory to inspect the underside of her clogged sink, with King sitting a few feet away. She’d expected disappointment and instead had gotten a blazing ball of light that lasted nearly four seconds.
(They had screamed for five minutes straight before comprehending what had happened.)
But it was a milestone Luz had never thought they’d achieve; and frankly, she loved the idea of being able to bring her magic though both realms.
It was a risky tactic, but it meant so much to her. And if it meant King could visit her in the human realm more often, she saw it as an absolute win.
King presses his face against her tunic, hiding his eyes away into soft purple fabric. “I wish we didn’t have to guess so much though.”
Luz sighs, squeezing him tighter. “Me neither, kiddo. But that’s just what happens when you’re a trailblazer. And an ultimate cutie .”
“Luuuuz!” King wrenches himself away, shaking his fur out from her tickles, but she hears the laughter in his voice. “Should we try to study the ice glyph more? I think I have some ideas for the main structure. Gus showed me stuff about ice crystals the other day and it got me thinking…”
“Go ahead.” Luz watches him scamper back to the dirt, testing new shapes and formats as he mutters under his breath. She’s quietly observing, eventually interrupted by the gentle rumble of her communicator.
She pulls it out, the familiar cat face scuffed and scratched, but well-loved. A message rolls across the screen.
“K I C K I N G > : (“
Luz giggles, already picturing Amity’s grumpy puffed cheeks as their daughter wreaks havoc on her ribs. She types back with practiced precision, picking emojis with ease.
“J U S T ?”
Amity replies in a second.
“N O N E W”
“O N L Y K I C K S”
“M A D”
Luz knows Amity isn’t the mad one. Their kid was probably tired of working alongside her mother. Her kicks seemed to only get worse as the days progressed. It was a wonder either of them got any sleep.
There’s some banter back and forth, and Luz occasionally glances up to watch King and give pointers for his glyphs. Abruptly, Amity stops replying, and Luz chalks it up to her project kicking back into gear and she drops the communicator back in her pocket.
King huffs, collapsing into the dirt and undoing all of his work. “It’s going nowhere. Why won’t it work?!”
“Hey, patience is a virtue.” Luz sprawls out next to him, relishing the soft ground underneath her. The sky is streaked with blood red and orange smatters of color. She idly watches a few fairies flutter past before continuing. “It took me a long time to figure out my second glyph, you know?”
“But you’re a human,” King sighs, sinking further into the dirt, following his despair. “This is like…my destiny . I’m supposed to just know these, aren’t I?”
Luz frowns, turning her head to look at him, sensing the lonely tone in his whine. “I was technically a Titan for a little bit.”
“That doesn’t count! You’re not anymore!”
“Well, the point is…it’s hard when you’re the only one working towards something.” She thinks back to endless nights of scrawling on notepad paper, of studying plants and water and dirt, of desperately searching for answers and combinations to get closer to home. The weight of the pressure had been so heavy then, and the remnants of that helplessness makes her instantly weary. “It’s okay to be frustrated. Because it sucks. But I’m here now and I can help you.”
“Yeah.” King’s voice is low, subdued, as he curls against her side. He tucks himself into as much of a ball as he can muster, pulling his tail towards his face. It’s clumsier than before since he’d only grown larger in time, but Luz invites it anyway, enjoying the peace.
It’s shattered at the faint sound of a siren.
Luz’s eyes snap open with a start. She’d dozed off. King is gone from her side, and the warmth that’d been there is replaced by an aching cold.
“King?” Luz lifts herself up, glancing around the darkened arena. The siren continues, howling into the distance, bringing a sense of dread with it.
She sees King standing at the edge of the arena. His head is tilted up towards the sky, his eyes squinted towards the direction of the siren.
“That’s from the Guard Block,” he calls to her, turning on his heel to face her. Luz’s stomach drops at the hint of fear in his voice. “Luz, it’s a siege .”
It doesn’t take long for the message to reach everyone in the Owl House.
The school is swiftly shut down and students are sent home in a flurry. A few of them are soldiers, and don’t even change out of their school uniform before making a beeline for the police station to suit up and receive orders.
Luz leads the way to headquarters, with King sat securely behind her, clutching onto her tunic with steady claws. Eda takes up the rear in her harpy form, the sound of her wings and the swirl of feathers surrounding Luz as she pushes on.
The alarm grows shrill as they get closer. It’s haunting, echoing across empty hills and craters of the Boiling Isles as civilians bunker in their homes. Luz dives into the landing station of the police headquarters, nearly knocking into other witches as she drops.
“Ah! Luz!” King shrieks, promptly stepping off the staff and kneeling in a bout of dizziness. Eda lands in a flurry of feathers; there’s a few yelps and cries of surprise from the surrounding soldiers before anyone realizes she’s not a threat.
“Captain! Where’s the captain?!” Luz demands, her voice carrying into the entrance chamber. A few witches point down the hall towards the briefing room and Luz clumsily moves forward.
She slows down as she enters the main meeting room, entering a cacophony of noise and activity. It’s dizzying and intimidating; she feels swallowed by the presence of massive demons and creatures moving around the room. Everyone surrounds the main table with its detailed map of the Boiling Isles plastered on its center. A few winged demons sit perched above the curtained windows, silently watching the debacle.
“One of the saviors has arrived!” A witch calls and all eyes immediately turn to her.
Luz shrinks, backing up against Eda’s side and wishing she could hide behind her wings like she used to. Luckily, one of Bonesborough’s captains comes to her rescue.
“Luz!” Emira nudges her way through the crowd; she’s suited up in leather armor and the Bonesborough uniform. She was a sight for sore eyes. Relieved, Luz pushes forward to meet her. “Em! Where’s Amity? Has she arrived yet?”
There’s a strange indecipherable look on Emira’s face at the question. Her eyes flit towards Eda for a second before she leans forward to Luz, her voice dropping. “Luz, maybe you should sit down…”
“What?!” Luz is far too aware of the sympathetic glances being thrown her way. “Why? What’s going on? Where’s Amity?”
“Let’s commence the briefing,” one of the generals suggests.
Emira frowns, casting the general a glare. “Hunter and the recon team haven’t returned.”
“I don’t suggest we leave the savior uninformed.”
Luz winces. She’d basked in the glory of the title as a teen, but the description only felt more haughty the older she got.
Emira moves Luz closer to the table, pressing a hand against the small of her back. Luz can’t help an involuntary shiver at the contact.
The heavy feeling of dread in her chest is making her feel sick. She quickly surveys the room, hoping to get a handle on things before it’s so simply explained to her; she was capable, she didn’t need to be coddled like a brand new recruit!
She can recognize a few generals and captains from Latissa; the pair of captains from Palm Springs; the general from Cuticle Valley; even the hulking demon of a lieutenant from the Knee. She swallows against the lump in her throat and forces her voice out. “Thank you everyone for arriving so quickly on short notice.”
The Latissa captain bows his head. “We don’t take kindly to witches who vow to bring back Belos’ ways.”
The pair of Palm Springs captains, two demons with no eyes and different-colored horns, withdraw pointers and begin to wave along the map as Emira explains.
“The siege is being led by a group of deserters who’ve been causing trouble for the past few months.” Her lips press into a line in frustration. “They caused the bout of arson back in Scabuary when we announced the expansion plans. They’re attempting an underground coven, but Captain Kenton and his team have worked well to keep it disbanded. Unfortunately, this attack is direct and headed straight for our plans.”
One of the pointers shifts to Bonesborough’s Engineer Office. Luz struggles to keep her composure, feeling the weight of realization.
“They have the engineers hostage,” she spits, her voice betraying her, shaking.
Emira nods. “Since Amity is one of the head engineers, they have her entire cohort under siege. They’re burning plans as we speak. Which is stupid. It’s not like my sister can’t draw those again.”
“That makes her a valuable bargaining chip. She’s smart, so she better not show her knowledge yet,” Eda points out. Luz grips at her churning stomach at the thought.
One of the captains raises his hand. He’s a broad-shouldered witch with dark hair and sharp spectacles, covered in furry armor and heavy clothing. “If I may speak?”
“Go on.”
“I’m Captain Orion, originating from the Knee.” He bows his head in greeting. “As you know, since we’re one of the more secluded cities, I’ve had my team gather underground information on this specific group of deserters. We believe this one is being led by Adrian Graye.”
Luz grunts, and she hears Eda swear from behind her. “The old Illusion covenhead,” Eda sighs. “If only he didn’t have such a stupid love for theatrics.”
“My point being,” Orion continues. “We may see some communication in time. I imagine they’ll have demands.”
“We won’t honor them,” Emira hisses.
“Be wary, Captain Emira,” one of the Palm Springs captains chimes in. “Negotiations must be conducted with a level head.”
Luz doesn’t like the sound of that. She doesn’t like the sound of anything . Negotiations on her wife and child?
She squeezes the communicator in her pocket, a foreign sense of feral anger simmering deep in her heart. She needs air. She needs action.
“I need to go,” she blurts, turning and shoving her way out of the room. No one protests, though Eda and King follow silently.
Luz doesn’t stop until she enters the training grounds. It’s not empty, but it’s less crowded than inside the building, and the loose dirt floor underneath her is calming; she could scrawl quick glyphs if she needed to.
To her surprise, she sees a familiar figure organizing weapons on the other end of the field. The figure turns, before smiling and immediately running to Luz.
“Willow!” Luz calls, embracing her friend. Willow’s hug is tight and reassuring, and Luz is glad to have something to help hold her together.
“I’m organizing weaponry,” Willow informs, pulling away. She doesn’t dispel sympathetic words or sad glances, and Luz is grateful. “Want to help?”
“Yes, please.” Luz needed to feel useful.
King and Eda emerge from behind them, and Eda swiftly returns back to her witch form. She studies the training grounds, looking disgusted. “Geez. Their arsenal is weak.”
“Hardly!” Willow fights back, casting a glance at the few soldiers sorting through their weapons. “The Defense Association has worked out some pretty good funding—“
“Ew, don’t speak to me about anything with the Council.”
King silently moves forward, hooking his hand into Luz’s. The movement is jerkier than normal; she glances down, aware of something heavy in his eyes. “King, do you wanna help me and Willow?”
“Okay.” King’s voice is frail.
Luz looks back towards Eda, an idea emerging in her head. “Eda, do you think you could track down Raine? If we can recruit them and their apprentices…I think having the manpower just in case would be good in this situation.”
“I like the way you think, kid.” Eda flips out her staff and leaves the grounds in a puff of dust.
The trio cross the training grounds, setting a trail of footprints in their wake. Willow introduces a few soldiers who are taking stock of their explosives. A hulking mass of a demon is busy directing cannons into positions; the arsenal captain, who’d only been appointed a week before.
The introductions make Luz feel sick. It’s a stupid thought; but she can’t help but feel that no one else is capable of saving Amity but her . She avoids eye contact as she stoops down to sort through a pile of armor.
Willow doesn’t comment. She simply walks over to the general to help move the heavy machinery, but her gaze lingers on Luz for a bit longer than she’d like. Gauging whether or not to intervene.
Luckily, Luz’s habits have shown themselves over the years. She needed to be left alone in the heat of the moment; to process, to plan, to potentially self-sacrifice. It wasn’t until she’d calmed down when friendly intrusion was a welcome event.
King helps Luz with the armor, setting up helmets in a neat row. They stay this way for a bit, working in tense silence as the militia behind them fills the air with chatter and clangs of metal and steel.
“Luz. I have a question.”
Luz blinks, forcibly snapped out of her thoughts. She manages a smile towards King. “Yeah?”
King blinks, uneasy, turning a hefty helmet in his hands. “It might be a stupid question.”
“There’s no stupid questions here, King.”
“It’s about my dad .”
Luz schools her expression, fighting to keep it neutral. “…okay.” This wasn’t a new occurrence. She’d described King’s dad plenty of times. The sadness linked to it only happened because it’d remind her of her own…but she learned to push past it.
“My dad…he’s the one who gave you powers to defeat Belos.” King’s words are choppy, scrambling for purchase, aiming for sensitivity.
“Right.” Luz grimaces, dusting off a chest piece. “He’s the reason I’m alive.”
King is quiet for a second, stewing on her words. He straightens one of the helmets, tracing a claw against its surface. “I think I finally know what it is.”
Luz sits up, suddenly curious. “Was it not…his life force?”
“Yeah. Technically. But it’s basically a Titan essence .” King brings a claw to his chin, sheepish. “It’s meant for periods of emotion, grief…it happened to me when…I thought you’d died.”
That , Luz hadn’t known. The aftermath of her death was never talked about; Eda still refused to speak of her reaction and King vehemently used to state he couldn’t remember. She glances back at the soldiers behind her, searching for Willow in the swath of arsenal supplies. She turns back to King, unsure of where this was going. “I didn’t know that.”
“The thing is…” King’s tail twitches in deep thought. “I think you might still possess some of that Titan Essence. My dad likely had to make it tied to your life force. And lately I’ve been wondering if maybe it could be reactivated.”
Luz jumps to her feet, stricken. “What?! You’ve just been…sitting on this info all this time?!”
“No,” King huffs, defensive. “It’s only recently I’ve been able to discern the essence! It’s like with my glyphs. The stronger that essence gets, the stronger my magic gets…”
“The smaller the glyphs,” Luz finishes, her mind racing. “King, are you saying there’s a chance to activate my Titan form?”
“Maybe.” King clutches at Luz’s sleeve. “But Luz, listen. I'm only bringing this up for Amity and the baby’s sake. I can’t say it’s seamless, but if it works, I can’t exactly tell you how to control it.”
Luz understands. The state of being a Titan was exhilarating, but also remarkably dangerous. She could still recall the feral, explosive, enraged strength she’d possessed when yanking Belos from the Titan’s heart. This scenario was a bit different; if she wiped out a wave of witches to save Amity, the public image wouldn’t be very positive. Innocent people could be hurt.
“Do you have an idea how it works?” Luz’s voice drops into a frantic whisper.
King shakes his head. “I wouldn’t know. It only happened once to either of us. And it took you dying to do the trick.”
Luz grunts, sitting back on her heels, her entire body feeling heavy. “Like hell I’ll let them get to the point of hurting Amity, even if that’s what would do it.”
“I’ll help you figure this out. I promise.” King clutches at his medallion, tracing the sigil on it with his claws. “I want to be useful .”
Luz’s anger softens. “King…”
“Luz!”
Willow runs up, shattering the conversation. Her movements are harried and she has her staff at the ready. “Luz, Hunter and the espionage crew are back.”
“Oh!” Luz jumps up, completely abandoning her armor task. “At the meeting hall?”
“Yeah.” Willow frowns, hesitant. “Do you think you’ll be okay?”
“I’m fine.” Luz’s voice is curt; she ushers King ahead of her and the two of them clamber onto Stringbean and make a beeline for the meeting hall. Willow lags behind them, watchful.
Luz makes it a point not to show the gravity of their conversation. She needed to focus on the plans now .
All she had was a destructive back-up plan in case things went south.
Luz is ushered into the scrying room once she reaches headquarters.
It’s an elaborate vestibule, remarkably clean and constantly dimmed. Crystal balls line the walls and a raised platform sits in the center of the room. Its main purpose was to serve illusionists and oracles, with the occasional message or visual telegram sent in when it was urgent.
The room has no windows, so it’s stuffy and cramped as she scoots into the crowd of captains and officials. King stays behind her, one claw firmly hooked onto her tunic. Luz keeps a finger looped around his horn in response.
The murmurs and conversations wipe out as Hunter walks to the front. There’s a bandage over his cheek and his tunic is marred with burns. Luz feels it again, that strange angry urge deep in her chest, at the sight of his evidently battered state.
“Brace yourselves,” Hunter calls, his voice steady, authoritative. “The hostages still remain, as well as a few from our espionage crew. Luckily, I’ve hashed a deal for Adrian Graye to make his demands.”
A ripple runs through the room, seething words traded between demons and witches. Luz frowns at the confirmation; so Adrian Gray had returned with a vengeance.
“I never liked him,” King mutters under his breath and Luz whole-heartedly agrees.
Hunter lifts a hand, and the noise ceases. “Not to say we must follow those demands. But this is the first step towards regaining the hostages and ensuring everyone comes back safe. Those of you preparing transcripts, keep every word .”
Hunter steps away and a crackle of energy lifts in the room. Luz sees the tall form of Gus behind the main platform, his eyes glowing blue as he follows the spell of the other illusionists. An invisible force pushes a breeze across the crowd, whipping Luz’s hair into a frenzy, and there’s a speckling of light.
The blurriness in her vision fades as she adjusts. The form of Adrian Graye appears on the platform, blue-hued and transparent. He looked far worse than Luz remembered; ragged and unkempt, with a dark look in his eyes. Something manic and lacking empathy; Luz already hates him.
“Citizens of the Boiling Isles,” Graye begins, throwing out his arm in a grand useless gesture. “Let’s be simplistic here. The route the Boiling Isles is beginning to take is not the correct one. We shouldn’t devolve into madness simply because we’ve lost our leader.”
“Can it,” Emira snaps, moving forward. “What do you want, Graye?”
Graye sniffs, setting a hand on his chest as if he were personally offended. “Snippy. I always forget how tough the crowd is here.”
“You’re not here for entertainment .”
“My dear, I always entertain.” Graye shifts, his dark cloak swinging past his shoulders. Luz spots the flash of an emblem on its collar — the old Emperor’s Coven seal. “You’re mixing forces that shouldn’t be mixed. Combining cities and people that will only create further unrest. Creating projects that put the economy in shambles . Thus, my list of demands is small. We simply want one of our members appointed as the Head of the City Council. That way, your plans don’t get… carried away , so to speak.”
Luz bristles, immediately shoving her way forward. King yanks at her, trying to keep her back, but it’s futile. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting any of Belos’ ideologies crawl back into the government!”
The surprise in the room is palpable. Graye tilts his head at her, as if only inspecting a strange bug that’d crawled into his domain. Luz frowns, but doesn’t back down.
“…I have your wife,” Graye voices, his tone dead. “I’d be careful how you approach this.”
“Don’t you dare touch her,” Luz growls. Her fists are clenched so hard, it hurts , and she wants nothing more than for Graye to become non-transparent, for her to wring him for all he was worth. “Say we appoint one of your people. What then? Do you really think the Boiling Isles wants to go back to the barbaric ways of restrictions and madness?!”
“There’s far more people against your movement than you think,” Graye cooly replies. “They’d finally have a voice. The Boiling Isles has always had one key figure in charge. That’s the proper way.” With a sneer, his blue finger points, directed straight at King. “What else is this Titan wannabe good for?”
Luz grunts, nearly setting a glyph on impulse. Emira moves forward, hooking her elbow on hers, pulling her back. Luz doesn’t need to defend King; he patters forward, his voice clear. “This may be my domain, Graye. But that doesn’t mean I’m entitled to rule it. I’m here to protect it and the people who inhabit it.”
“You’re better off being the sole decision-maker,” Graye sighs, obviously disappointed in King’s response. “But whatever, you’re young and frankly far too naive. Which is why we need one of our members in your stead.”
King only shrugs, unphased. “If that’s what you want.”
Nobody moves. Luz shakes her head but keeps her mouth shut. She can see the disagreement blazing in everyone’s eyes — it hurts to see it directed straight at King.
Graye smiles, and Luz thinks it’s smarmy and disgusting and stupid. “Fine. I want your captains, and only your captains, to meet us here at the Engineer Block. We’ll set up some witches’ bonds to ensure our member makes it on the board.” His eyes narrow, sinister. “If you break this term, I will make it so this little Titan of yours is ousted from the Isles for good.”
King’s tail twitches, but he doesn’t reply.
“We’ll meet you in an hour,” Emira finally says.
“Lovely talk.” Graye’s smile is infuriating and in a flash he’s gone. Almost immediately, one of the captains turns on King like a shot, furious. “Child! What gives you the right to take over negotiations like that!?”
“Don’t talk to him like that!” Luz snaps.
King winces, but he doesn’t back down. “I’m going to become a leader of these Isles in some way, I deserve to have a voice in this!”
“He’s right,” Hunter calls. “The Titan has an heir. We need to respect that.”
The captain backs down, but the tension in the air doesn’t fade. Quiet grumbles and whispers move through the room like a wave. King’s eyes are squinted, his gaze focused on something in the distance.
“General Grog,” Emira begins, pointing at a broad-shouldered demon in the corner of the room. “Direct your messengers to fetch Alador and Darius immediately. I want him and all of their apprentices here with as many weapons they can manage.”
Luz jolts at the words. “What?! You’re being Aboma-tons into this?”
“Have any better ideas?!” Emira snaps, but she quickly shakes her head. “Sorry. I’m on edge, it’s just…this is my sister. I’m not letting some maniac use her to weasel into our system, and I know she’d hate me forever if I let him make a witch’s bond.”
“Shall we move this to the war room?” One of the generals calls out.
“Perhaps we should also recruit the works of Master Raine and their apprentices? Their spells can help in transporting our soldiers.” Another adds.
“Someone contact the Lead Director of the Beast Tamers!”
“The professors of the Oracles could help!”
“Someone get the bat Queen!”
Emira whistles sharply, and the yells die out. “We can’t have the entirety of the Boiling Isles involved in this. The less people the better.”
“Raine has already been contacted,” Luz chimes in. “Eda is getting them as we speak. I think a cohort of them, their apprentices, and the main captains of the lands should be in the war room. Everyone else needs to…prepare.”
The room moves into action. Luz shuffles out of the way as armored demons and witches shove for the exit.
King spills from the crowd, melting into Luz’s side. She effortlessly scoops him up, and he leans his chin against her shoulder.
“Did I mess that all up?” He whispers, and Luz’s heart feels torn in two.
“Of course not,” she assures. “You did great.”
“Luz…” King glances back at the emptying room, at the subtly glowing spot where Adrian Graye had been standing. “I think the plan I was talking about…I think it might have to be our next step.”
“Not yet,” Luz fights back, because the thought is enticing and exhausting and terrifying . “Last resort. Right now, we fight with all the resources we have.”
King doesn’t reply. He merely sets his head down on her shoulder, worn out and weary.
Luz follows Emira to the war room, carrying him along.