of reaching so far across the continent, but from what I could tell, the city’s outline was still visible, close to the dark blue horizon.
An explosion occurred when the large object landed. I wasn’t sure where it hit the ground, exactly, as we were too far away on Mount Zur, but the impact was audible. Like the loudest thunderclap, followed by reverberations that traveled across the entire land. I was willing to bet the tremors were felt all the way back to Luceria. I heard glasses clinking on the table behind us.
“It fell there, yes,” Safira replied.
“We should go there first,” Rubia said.
But what was it, I wondered? With so much happening already, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for another negative development. We had our hands full. God-level enemies that were looking forward to wiping us all out, and half of my family stuck in crystal casings back in The Shade. We were scrambling against a countdown to the apocalypse, so…
What the hell was it this time? What else had the universe decided to hurl at us?
Kailani
After a series of in-depth searches through the Witches’ Sanctuary in the Supernatural Dimension, Grandpa Ibrahim came back with an old and rusty pencil case. In it, he’d locked Herbert, a ghoul the witches had tamed and that he’d trained specifically to serve him decades ago. We’d come to the decision that Herbert might be able to help us, both with physical tasks pertaining to Reapers—since we needed to learn more about them, now that we knew they existed—and with insights on this realm between the dead and the living, which these agents of Death treaded so carefully and quietly.
I met with Grandpa Ibrahim and Grandma Corrine in Luceria, leaving Lumi’s apprentices to look after the Calliope, Persea, and Nevertide sanctuaries that housed the fallen fae. My mom and the other witches handled The Shade and all the other planets where the Hermessi cults had struck. For now, I decided to focus on this Herbert issue.
Hunter was with the other GASP agents on Mount Zur, preparing another operation against the local Hermessi cult chapter. There had been rumors among the Imps living in the south that something unprecedented was planned, and that they were no longer recruiting fae. All the fae on Calliope had been affected and sealed in their individual crystal casings. No, this was much worse. These were cultists of different species, preparing for some kind of offensive, and they had Hermessi power on their side.
“What do we know about their warpower?” Grandma Corrine asked as we made our way to one of the private rooms on the top floor of Luceria. She carried a bag filled with food for Herbert, which she’d taken from the castle kitchen. He hadn’t eaten in a long time. He was bound to be peckish.
I knew Draven and Serena were both nearby, ready to come in if we required additional support. Draven’s Druid abilities could come in handy, and, given Serena’s sentry nature, we had a feeling she might be able to help with the ghoul, if, by some unexpected twist, we couldn’t. I trusted that wouldn’t be necessary, though. I’d never met Herbert, but Grandpa Ibrahim had assured me that he was tame and obedient. I was just being extra cautious, given our complicated circumstances.
“They wouldn’t be as strong as the Hermessi themselves, but they would likely be able to act on their behalf. That means beefed up elemental mojo, enough to make things harder for us,” I said, relaying some of the intel that Hunter had gathered from his field missions across the continent. Because he was a white werewolf and could turn at will, not just at night, Hunter was able to cross great distances and sneak into the more hidden settlements of the outer territories, particularly in the south and the southwest of the continent, where most of the cult rumors had been coming from. Due to the size of the terrain he could cover, my guy had come back with this alarming new information.
“What are Field and Aida going to do about it?” Grandpa Ibrahim replied. He placed Herbert’s pencil case on the round table in the middle of the room and pulled all the curtains on the window, reducing the amount of sunlight coming in. Noticing my curious expression, he smiled. “He hasn’t been out in over forty years, honey. We forgot about the Eritopian time-lapse, which affected him, too. He’ll be a bit sensitive to light, and I