Chapter 33

  STRANGE ATTITUDES

  The town of Arbolaria Viate had gone into motion.

  At one of the entrances, humans armed with shotguns and pistols held their triggers with white knuckles. Farther back, the witches formed a silent semicircle, while the half-blood demons took attack positions, ready to unleash their gifts if the signal was given. Among the crowd, scattered like shadows among shadows, the seven witches of the Cabildo watched without a word.

  —They’re coming… get ready —ordered Commander Torsen, closing his fist around his enormous sword. The glowing guard of the weapon pulsed with its own light, and small runes ran along the blade for a brief moment, as if waking from a long slumber.

  Everyone tensed.

  Four figures emerged from the tunnel.

  Diya. Max. Gabriel. Kiran.

  Surprise was immediate. Kiran raised his right hand, a breath away from attacking, while Diya lifted her arms, ready to conjure a defensive shield.

  —It’s us! —Gabriel shouted, breaking the tension before violence could erupt.

  An uneasy murmur rippled through those present.

  —How strange… —murmured a soldier behind Torsen, tilting his head—. The alarms were triggered by a huge source of magic approaching.

  Torsen frowned for barely a second before raising his voice.

  —False alarm! You may stand down!

  The perimeter relaxed, though not completely.

  The soldier who had spoken —thin, with deep dark circles marking his exhausted face— stepped closer to the group. In his hand he carried a small device: at first glance it looked like a cellphone, but on the back a crystal glowed in bluish tones, alive, almost organic. He activated it and slowly passed it in front of each of them.

  —The magical levels aren’t the same… —he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

  The device gave off a faint fluctuation when Diya leaned toward Max to whisper something in his ear.

  The soldier went rigid.

  —Stop!

  With a sharp movement, he grabbed Diya and Max, forcing them to stand practically pressed together.

  The crystal on the device began to blink.

  Then a sharp beep broke the silence.

  —It’s those two —the soldier explained quietly to the commander—. Somehow, their magics intertwine… they become one. And it’s up to five times more powerful.

  Commander Torsen studied Max and Diya with clinical focus, as if he were not looking at people, but at weapons he had not yet decided whether to draw.

  —Young Hotsson —he finally said—, who is the new girl?

  —Diya. She is… an old friend —Max replied.

  But his gaze drifted for a moment. The soldier’s words echoed in his mind like a portent he did not yet fully understand.

  —And I’m Kiran —he cut in boldly, extending his hand toward the commander and holding his gaze with a dangerously charming smile—. Do you have a bar around here?

  Torsen accepted the handshake, though his grip was cold, almost automatic, devoid of any human warmth.

  —Commander Torsen, of the Order of Atlantis —he introduced himself in a martial tone—. Max can take you. We will analyze these readings.

  Without adding anything else, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving a heavy air behind him. Kiran frowned, clearly annoyed.

  —Ah… I think I lost my spark —he murmured with feigned tragedy before awkwardly hugging Diya.

  She pushed him away firmly and shot him a look so sharp it might as well have been a spell.

  —Stop flirting with everything that breathes. We’ll have shelter as long as you don’t get into trouble… or with someone who’s married.

  —I promise… to try not to conquer anyone —Kiran replied with a crooked smile. Then he hooked his arm around Max’s familiarly—. Now tell me, magic man, where’s a bar? I lost my cabin and I’m depressed. It took me forever to choose those ugly old chairs to get the perfect haunted-cabin vibe.

  He laughed softly, as if none of what had happened were really serious.

  —Sure, this way —Max said, starting to walk.

  He didn’t notice that Diya and Gabriel were staying behind, watching as the town lights wrapped around them.

  Diya glanced at Gabriel as they moved at a slow pace, several meters behind Max and Kiran. The town lights gradually fell behind them, and a thick, uncomfortable silence settled between the two.

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  —So… —Diya finally murmured— have you been together long?

  Gabriel took a second to answer.

  —A few months… or weeks —he said, running a hand over his face—. So much has happened that it feels like years.

  Diya stopped short.

  —How bad have things been?

  Gabriel stopped as well. He looked at her, fully understanding the weight of the question.

  —In general… or for Max?

  —For Max.

  Gabriel took a deep breath, as if opening that door cost him more than expected.

  —His parents were kidnapped by a witch known for killing her victims and using their bodies for necromancy. His best friend was dragged into our world after being attacked… turned into a beast witch. She almost died several times. And then there’s me…

  He paused briefly, but not enough to stop himself.

  —He… even though I know he wants to protect me, he jumps in without thinking. He risks his life every chance he gets to help me.

  The words came out fast, unfiltered, as if they had been trapped for far too long.

  —I see… —Diya whispered.

  Her eyes searched for Max’s silhouette up ahead, and a deep sadness tightened in her chest.

  —I should have looked for him —she added—. Maybe I could have prevented so much pain.

  —You care about him a lot, don’t you? —Gabriel asked gently.

  Diya nodded slowly.

  —Yes. He doesn’t know how important he was to me. Knowing that when I slept I could see him again… talk to him… —a small, fragile smile formed on her lips— it made me feel like I wasn’t alone.

  The shadows along the road seemed to stretch around them, as if listening to every word.

  Teresa emerged from between the houses.

  She walked slowly, almost gliding through the shadows, with a wide, perfectly practiced smile. Her eyes locked onto Diya and Gabriel as she approached, as if she had already been waiting for them.

  —Hello —she said softly—. You must be the new witch.

  There was something too warm in her tone.

  —I’m Diya —she replied, extending her hand without lowering her guard.

  —Teresa.

  The handshake was firm. Teresa held Diya’s hand a second longer than necessary and studied her closely. Suddenly, she closed her eyes and brought a hand to her head, as if a sharp pain had pierced her.

  —Did it hurt? —Diya asked, with defiant calm.

  Teresa opened her eyes at once, never losing her smile.

  —What are you talking about?

  —Nothing…

  Teresa tilted her head slightly, assessing her.

  —If you have any questions about the town or about what’s happening here —she went on— any of my sisters from the Witches’ Council will answer you without a problem.

  She turned and walked away, discreetly rubbing her temple, as if trying to erase a persistent migraine.

  Gabriel watched the scene with a frown.

  —What was all that?

  Diya didn’t take her eyes off Teresa’s figure until it disappeared among the houses.

  —Do you trust her?

  —She gives us shelter… —Gabriel replied, making his position clear without needing more words.

  Diya nodded slowly.

  —I see…

  But her expression said she didn’t trust her at all.

  Gabriel and Diya entered the bar.

  The place was wrapped in a warm, deceptive light, thick with low murmurs and the smell of spiced alcohol. Kiran, of course, was already flirting with a half-blood demon who clearly wished to be anywhere else. His red eyes, dulled by exhaustion, barely lifted to shoot him an irritated glare.

  —Kiran, leave him alone —Diya ordered.

  She grabbed his hand without giving him a choice and dragged him over to the table where Max was sitting, holding a cup of matcha tea between both hands as if he needed the warmth to stay upright.

  —I need to say this —Diya added, taking a sip of the beer that had just been served to her—. That Teresa gives me a very bad feeling.

  —Why? —Max asked, staring at her.

  Even though he wanted to trust the Witches’ Council, something in his expression revealed that he too felt there were hidden pieces.

  —A moment ago she intercepted Gabriel and me —Diya continued—. The idiot tried to read my mind.

  —Poor thing —Kiran mocked, letting out a laugh.

  —My second gift is blocking minds from reading and control —Diya said coldly—. My mind is always closed. It must have felt like crashing into a wall at full speed.

  She glanced around, lowering her voice slightly.

  —And then she left with very obvious pain. I don’t trust mind-reading witches… who don’t say anything.

  —So that’s why… —Gabriel murmured, taking a sip of his glass of water—. When we arrived, I noticed Frida’s look. It was obvious she was watching Diya… she was angry.

  He pressed his lips together.

  —Laura was right. I don’t know if we’re in a refuge… or in the jaws of a new wolf.

  —We need to gather the others and talk somewhere more private —Max concluded.

  He finished his tea and stood up.

  Then it happened.

  Max’s body suddenly went rigid. His pupils dilated until they nearly vanished, and a strangled groan escaped his throat. He clutched his stomach with both hands and dropped to his knees on the floor.

  —Max! —Gabriel shouted, jumping up at once to catch him.

  Around them, the witches in the bar began to react the same way: stiff bodies, shallow breaths, empty stares. One by one they collapsed, while humans and half-blood demons tried to help them, not understanding what was happening.

  Except Diya.

  She remained standing.

  She watched with surgical focus as they all went still. They weren’t dead… just unconscious.

  But Max kept writhing in pain in Gabriel’s arms.

  —Put him on the floor —Diya ordered urgently.

  Gabriel obeyed at once. Diya knelt beside Max, placing a firm hand on his chest.

  —Filum aureum, carnem sanat…

  Diya closed her eyes. From her back, golden strands began to emerge, glowing faintly with lavender hues. They moved like living serpents, sliding through the air until they sank into Max’s chest. His veins lit up, turning an unnatural gold, as if the blood itself had been replaced by molten metal.

  Diya snapped her eyes open.

  —Max…?

  She leaned over him, holding her breath.

  —He’s breathing… —she confirmed in relief—. But the magic didn’t heal him.

  Kiran, in silence, was studying the surroundings with a seriousness rarely seen in him. His gaze stopped on the abandoned cups on the tables. He went to the one Max had been drinking from, picked it up carefully, and smelled it.

  His face went pale.

  —They’re not being harmed… —he murmured.

  —What are you talking about? —Gabriel asked, fear seeping into his voice.

  Kiran slowly set the cup back on the table.

  —Max’s cup smells like Totnes blood.

  Terror was written plainly across his face.

  —What is that? —Diya asked, carefully supporting Max’s head.

  —A demon from the unholy lands of the infernal realm —Kiran replied—. It feeds its prey with its own blood for days… until it turns them into thralls.

  He clenched his teeth.

  —Shit.

  Without wasting time, he dragged a heavy table over to block the bar’s door.

  —Anyone who isn’t unconscious, move the witches into that closet! Now!

  He glanced out the windows, scanning the darkness outside.

  —We’re not doing that! —a burly man confronted him, planting himself in front of him.

  —Pablo, listen to him —Gabriel cut in, his voice tight—. Please.

  The man hesitated for a second.

  —All right… if you trust him, I’ll listen.

  Then it happened.

  The magical sky that mimicked the cycle of night and day over the town began to flicker. The light trembled, fractured… and finally went out completely.

  Outside, only the bioluminescent mushrooms growing along some of the streets offered a spectral glow, bathing Arbolaria Viate in sickly greens and blues.

  Silence fell with unbearable weight.

  It was not peace.

  It was the calm before the storm.