Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They’d moved to the cafeteria so Hunter could tell them about the Day of Unity. He stood on the stage with Principle Bump, exactly where Head Witch Adrien had stood earlier, and told them everything he knew about the real purpose behind the sigils.

It did not go well.

“But I just joined a coven!” one of the older students half-shrieked.

“He’s just lying,” a cyclops snapped.

Amity glared at him. “Seriously? We just saw coven scouts trying to trick us into getting sigils. And my parents have been building Belos a literal army!”

“Parents?” another student repeated, looking shell-shocked. “Oh, Titan, our parents. Mom and Dad and Mother – they all have sigils –”

Half the room dissolved into hysterics, and one of the teachers started crying. Principle Bump hurried forward when the student with the sigil tried to set her arm on fire.

Hunter started edging nervously towards the side of the stage, glancing at the windows. How long until the guards reached Belos? Three hours? Two? It didn’t matter that Adrien was out of commission. He might recover. Or he might not and the guards might still tell Belos about seeing Hunter just to protect themselves. He needed to leave.

“Hunter?”

He jumped. Gus was standing next to him, one hand outstretched.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Right. Look, do you want to stay at my place for a bit?”

“I –”

“Guys?”

Hunter looked up. Willow, Viney, and Skara were heading over, Viney healing a small burn mark on Willow’s forearm as they went.

“You two okay?” Willow asked. “How’s your head, er – both of you, actually.”

“Kinda sore, but I’m fine,” Gus said.

“So this is for real, right?” Skara asked Hunter. “Like, Belos is actually an evil guy all along?”

He dropped his gaze. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Sweet Titan.”

“At least not everyone was here today,” Viney said, glancing over her shoulder. “They had that Open Scab at Epidermis Elementary, half the student body have siblings there. I guess fewer people made it easier to evade Adrien, but now we have to worry about the truth getting distorted by word of mouth.”

“I doubt it matters,” Skara said grimly. “The Day of Unity is just a few days away. If anything, a distorted story that creates uncertainty might be more effective at sowing discontent and resistance.”

Fweet f-f-fweet!

Hunter immediately clapped his hand over the bird-sized lump in his cloak, but it was too late. The group turned to him just as he was about to step off the stage.

“Hunter?” Willow asked. “Where are you going?”

He turned around. “Look, I’m – I’m not exactly welcome back at the castle right now, and those guards saw me pounding their faces in. I need to get out of here before they tell Belos where I am.”

“Do you have somewhere to go?”

He clenched his fists. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s a no,” Gus said. “Dude, I have a spare bedroom. And like, real food.”

“I’m not staying with anyone!” he snapped. “The more people who know where I’m staying, the more people there are to accidentally tell someone.”

“But if you’re on your own, won’t you naturally follow your scout training?” Skara piped up. “Especially as the Golden Guard, you and Belos must’ve worked closely together. Which means he can probably predict your movements much more easily. It might help to add more people into the mix to create unknown variables.”

He hesitated.

“Just come on,” Gus coaxed. “You’re talking to a master illusionist here. I’m even better than Professor Illusival. I can disguise you on short notice if anyone finds out you’re there, and I’ve got like nine secret escape routes from when I sneak out to see Luz and Willow.”

Willow grinned. “Ten. I added an extra tunnel under the basement.”

“Sweet!”

“What’s this I hear about secret tunnels?” Principal Bump asked, joining them.

“Not at school,” Willow assured him quickly.

“Hmmm. Let me know if you’re interested in making any, they would have come in handy today.” He turned to Hunter. “Golden Guard.”

He flinched. “Just Hunter.”

Bump nodded. “I’d like to ask how I can get in touch with you. I’ll be reaching out to certain colleagues to enhance school security and plan for the Day of Unity. You have information and familiarity with the castle we may need to plan a response.”

“He’s staying with me,” Gus said quickly. “Right?”

“Sure,” he muttered, and Gus practically beamed at him.

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Bump stepped back to the center of the stage. The students and teachers had calmed down but sat much closer together, most of them sporting puffy eyes and pale faces. “Thank you, everyone. I understand the draining spell is terrible news, but I’m so proud of the grit and resourcefulness I saw today. I will be sending out an announcement to everyone’s parents tonight and reaching out to associates for enhanced school security.”

“Should we stay here tonight?” a girl with three eyes called out.

“You may, with your parents’ permission. But the emperor only knows that we defeated his Head Witch – he doesn’t know we found out about the draining spell. Unusual movements could tip our hand. That being said, our first priority is your safety. Do what you need to do to stay safe.”

Gus nudged Hunter. “What he said, okay?”

Hunter looked away. Then, after a second, he nodded.

When Gus was ready to leave, he explained that they’d be heading through the marketplace to the Intercostal Coast just outside it, a relatively tranquil delta between the Titan’s fifth and sixth ribs. Hunter had been to the marketplace a few times, mostly on missions from Belos, which meant he hadn’t paid much attention to the shops. There were the usual street vendors selling candied fingerflowers and two-station crystal balls. Booths selling swords, poisons, toenails, and firebee honey were crammed between established shops for casting and conjuring. It was busy and loud, not at all the hushed and stealthy atmosphere of the nightmarket. Hunter kept jumping every time someone shouted mid-barter, certain it was a scout who had just recognized him – but that was dumb, of course they wouldn’t, Gus had cast a disguise on him before they’d even left the school. That being said, the illusion was…unsettling.

“Luz isn’t this scrawny,” he said, glancing at his reflection as they passed a mirrormage shop.

“You mad you don’t see your muscles?” Gus asked – teased, probably. Hunter was bad at things like that.

“No,” he said, gesturing to the reflection, “I mean she has actual biceps. She fought and killed a selkidomus.”

Gus blinked. “You sure? That doesn’t sound like Luz to me.”

“Well she did,,” he snapped.

“Okay, okay! Here.” His fingers glowed and Hunter’s reflection inflated slightly. “There, okay?”

The strain in Gus’ voice twisted his stomach. “It was probably fine,” he muttered. His hand went to his waist, where Flapjack was dormant in his bag. “Sorry. Are you sure no one will notice if Luz is in two places at once?”

“I don’t know,” Gus said tiredly. “I don’t even know where she is right now. But she’s been to my house a few times, so seeing her walk with me is pretty typical. Well – more skip than a walk. You think you could skip? Or smile? Crack a human joke?”

“Uh – ‘this is bananas’?” he tried.

Gus burst out laughing. Hunter jumped. “Oh man! I can’t believe you said that, it was too perfect!”

“What, what did I say? What’s a banana?”

“It’s a human food,” Gus explained, leaning on an appleblood booth and wiping the tears from his eyes. “Although, saying something ‘is bananas’ means it’s crazy or wildly unexpected.”

“What in Titan’s name does that have to do with food? It makes no sense!”

“Right?!”

Gus made to push himself off the booth, then stumbled. Hunter caught him by the shoulders.

“Sorry,” Gus wheezed, and this time Hunter was pretty sure he wasn’t laughing.

“We can stop, are you alright? Here –” He pulled a few snails out of his pocket, tossed them at the vendor and grabbed a box of appleblood from the display. “Drink up.”

“Thanks.” Gus took the box and stabbed the straw through the top, then drank as they walked. “Sorry. I’m really tired. I’ll be able to maintain the illusion until we get home, I promise.”

“That’s not what I – oh, wow.”

They’d reached the end of the market and the road curved around some trees. On the other side, the Intercostal Coast spread out before them, rugged forest to the left, boiling sea to the right, and a glittering crescent of ornate houses curved around a perfectly smooth beach. Some of the houses seemed to be build right into the trees, their wood glowing a rich umber, while others had stained glass windows that caught the setting sun like emeralds and sapphires. The streets between them led in gentle curves towards natural hot springs at the edge of the beach, and at one end Hunter could see crab maidens – notoriously shy creatures – actually napping on some of the rocks, scarlet claws clicking and twitching as they slept. It was the most serene place Hunter had ever seen.

“Most of the illusion coven lives in or around here,” Gus said, continuing down the path. “Partly it’s a snails thing – illusion work pays really well, and this is an expensive area. But mostly it’s because of the beach. A lot of the pebbles that wash up in high tide are perfect for concealment stones; the sand is uniquely perfect for enchanted mirrors; that kind of thing.”

“I wonder if this is where Witch Hunter Adrien got that monocle made.”

“Probably.”

The house was a few blocks away. By the time they got there, Gus had long since finished his apple blood, and Hunter had one arm firmly around Gus’ shoulders to keep him upright. Hunter was almost expecting some kind of bird tube guardian again, but instead the front door had a simple square mirror. It shimmered, angling towards them until it caught Gus’ reflection. There was a metallic click as it unlocked.

The door opened to a living area with bookcases on the far wall bracketing the biggest crystal ball Hunter had ever seen, set on a thick ivory stand. The floor was covered with pillows and a sofa was pushed against the left wall, next to a spiraling staircase. There were two doors along the righthand wall; one was closed, but the other appeared to be an office crammed with recording equipment.

The second the door shut behind them, Hunter’s disguise disappeared with a quiet pop. Flapjack zipped out of Hunter’s bag with a whistle of relief, settling on his shoulder. Then a voice called out from the office.

“Hi, Gus! Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah Dad,” Gus called, now looking distinctly gray.

A man stepped out of the office, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and furiously polishing a small crystal ball. “Great. I cracked my spare travel recorder, and I - Gus!”

“I’m okay, just tired,” Gus said, as his father leaped forward and tugged him towards the pillows.

“You look exhausted! What happened, did you have an anxiety illusion? Do you need some hot water or the heavy blanket?”

Hunter blinked. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it. Hot water?

“I’m fine,” Gus said, collapsing into the pillow pile. “Dad, Scouts attacked the school today. They tried forcing sigils on all the students.”

“They what?!”

“I’ll explain more when I wake up, but my friend Caleb helped stop them and the Scouts are looking for him.”

Gus’ dad was staring at him like he’d grown an extra head. “The Scouts attacked the school? Are you hurt? Was anyone hurt? Gus, you can’t give a reporter a story like that and take a nap!”

Hunter tensed. Reporter?

Gus smiled tiredly and patted his hand. “More news at 5. For now, Caleb needs a place to stay. Don’t tell anyone he’s here.”

“Are the Scouts already at his house?”

“Sort of.” Gus’ eyes drooped. “Sorry. I’ll explain, I promise, I juszzz…”

Gus’ head fell back, mouth open, eyes closed, some of the tension still shadowing his face. His father immediately leaned forward and fixed the pillows under his head, muttering to himself.

“Is he going to be okay?” Hunter asked anxiously.

“He better be!” He paused, then reached for Gus's wrist. At the sight of bare skin, he visibly slumped with relief. Hunter flinched. He was very glad Gus had left out the part about him being the Golden Guard. Then Gus’ father finished adjusting the pillows and stood up.

“I don’t have to stay,” Hunter said quickly.

“Young man, neither of you are going anywhere until I hear the full story! Now – go take a nap.”

“I – what?”

“A nap,” he repeated, pointing to the couch. “You look even more exhausted than Gus right now.”

Hunter stared at him. “Uh, no. Sir.”

“Then at least sit down,” his father said firmly. “Please. And let me get you something to eat and drink. My son just handed me the story of the century and then fell asleep; I need to do something for my nerves besides fixing that Titan-forsaken crystal ball.”

“Rotate the core twelve degrees,” Gus murmured sleepily.

“Augustus Porter, take a nap so I can interview you properly or so help me!”

Chapter Text

Gus woke up hours later. The pounding in his head had gone down to a mild ache, but it still took him a minute to orient himself. He was lying on the pillow pile in the living room, with what felt like the heavy blanket pulled over him. He heard his dad’s voice, Hunter’s voice, and – Principal Bump?

He rolled over. The crystal ball set between the bookshelves was lit up with Principal Bump’s face, deep in conversation with Hunter, while his father took frantic notes on a clipboard. In the corner of his eye, he saw Hunter’s palisman making a nest out of some books on the couch.

“We’ve already found three more eyebugs,” Principal Bump was saying. “I’ll send Professor Scalian to check the water fountains.”

“Especially the one by the cafeteria,” Hunter said. “That’s where we found Head Witch Adrien. If you feed them moldy compost they’ll go into hibernation.”

Gus’ father looked up. “Wait. Eyebugs wouldn’t be much use if the school was covered in an illusion. That suggests Adrien planted them before he began the attack. What would be the point of that if he was so confident he’d be successful?”

“Maybe he wanted to watch his own show,” Hunter said sourly. Gus laughed.

His father turned. “Gus! I’m sorry, did we wake you?”

“How are you feeling, Augustus?” Bump asked.

“A lot better,” Gus said, pushing the blanket off. “What did I miss?”

“I’ve been making calls to all the student’s guardians explaining today’s events. Your father, Hunter, and I were just discussing our next steps in securing the school.”

“You might have mentioned who ‘Caleb’ really was, by the way,” his father said drily. “It would have very much explained why he kept checking the windows and asking about crab maidens.”

Hunter stiffened. “The discarded shells make good armor. We need to be ready next time!”

“If there is a next time, it won’t be at school. Both of you are staying here.”

Gus blinked. “Won’t that look suspicious? Changing our routines and everything?”

“It would look suspicious if we sent you back after an attack like that.”

Bump shifted awkwardly. “I’ll still be improving school security. Some students have parents more closely involved with the covens and may be pressured into attendance, while others have homes that are not nearly as well-warded as yours. I’ll need to ensure that they have a safe retreat.”

Gus opened his mouth to ask a question, then paused. Hunter’s hands were nearly hidden under his shabby cloak, but they were trembling slightly, and his face was paler than usual. “Actually,” he said slowly, “I still have a headache. Can Hunter and I go up to my room?”

“Yes, son, of course. I just have a few dozen questions on those security measures.” His father turned back to a slightly alarmed-looking Bump.

Gus grabbed the weighted blanket and folded it over his arm. Hunter’s palisman flew to his shoulder, and the two of them joined Gus at the bottom of the stairs. He waited until they’d reached the top and taken a left down the hall, then glanced back.

“Are you okay?” he asked – at the same time as Hunter.

Hunter blinked. “Uh, yes? Are you? Do you want hot water, or something?”

“I just hope my dad didn’t interrogate you or anything.”

Hunter scoffed. “He can try. Even Terra can’t do it – the last time she tried I bit her chokeweed vines in half.”

Gus stared at him, decided the few expletives at his disposal were not strong enough, and took a slow breath. “Let’s just go to my room,” he managed.

They reached the end of the hall and Gus opened his bedroom door. It was exactly the same as its illusionary duplicate. The corkboard, dresser, and human collectibles were arranged on the left, desk and closet against the far wall, bed on the right below the window. A storage bench at the end of the bed held mounds of books he’d borrowed from the library, and on top of them was a very small galderstone. Oops.

Hunter was already stepping towards it. “Is that –”

“A galderstone?” Gus nervously.

“‘Theory of Luminary Mechanics,’” Hunter said, reaching for the book underneath. Gus blinked. “Yeah, it is! Written by Mari the Phantom Bringer in the early Savage Ages. How did you get this? Even the castle library doesn’t have it!”

“Found an illusionist graveyard. I’m just borrowing it from the groundskeeper. So you’re interested in wild magic?”

Hunter, who had been flipping pages eagerly, suddenly froze. “What? No!”

Gus raised an eyebrow. “Your palisman was making a nest out of Barteliomia’s Bestiary and An Oracle’s Guide to Omens. Dad got them before I picked a track, and I know for a fact he’s never touched them.”

“I was just bored,” Hunter said uncomfortably. His palisman whistled.

“Well, you’re welcome to read it. Do you want to hang out up here? I was going to call Willow for a bit.”

“Oh – sure.”

“Great.” Gus sat down on the bed and scooted until he was practically against the windowsill, the heavy blanket piled on his knees. He patted the space next to him. “Want to come over so we can scrollshare?”

Hunter hesitated, but his bird whistled excitedly and flew for the blanket, snuggling into the folds. Hunter climbed awkwardly onto the bed. Gus picked up the blanket, careful not to disturb its occupant, and passed it to Hunter.

“Here. Your bird, your blanket.”

“O-okay, uh – why is it heavy?”

“It’s a weighted blanket. Ready?” He drew a circle and his scroll popped out of its spatial pocket. Luz had shown him how to draw a hovering glyph on the back; one tap left it hovering in midair. He dialed Willow.

“Finally!” she cried, her face filling the screen. Clover was sitting on her head and buzzed vigorously at them. “It’s been hours! Just imagine five minutes of worried lecturing so I can skip it and ask how you’re doing. Did you both get home okay?”

“Yeah, and we’re both fine. Hunter’s right here, by the way.”

Hunter waved awkwardly. “Hi, Captain.”

“Hunter! Or Caleb – are we calling you Hunter or Caleb?”

“Hunter.”

“Dad already knows he’s the Golden Guard,” Gus added. “I think Principal Bump might’ve told him. Bump keeps talking about school security, but dad wants us to just stay home.”

“My dads, too. Check the Emerald Entrails chat when you get a chance – Viney’s been going nuts because Pudding is in the school stables and her parents don’t want her to go back. Oh, and Hunter, Viney offered to make you some new clothes! She’s great at sewing because Pudding scratches up her shirts so much, and your cloak is kind of…”

Hunter’s ears turned red. “It’s a perfectly serviceable cloak!”

“The patches are literally falling off right now.”

“Well, they stayed on longer this time, so clearly I’m getting better.”

“We can just borrow some of my dad’s stuff,” Gus said, grinning. “Or go shopping. I can disguise you as Luz again and we can just say it’s for someone else. Hey Willow, have you heard from Luz yet?”

Her face fell. “No. I’d almost think the Scouts got to her, but Emperor Belos would practically flood the news about it.”

“Yeah, Dad hasn’t heard anything either.” He rubbed his forehead with one hand, frowning. “This is so surreal. I can’t believe how much everything’s changed from a few days ago. From this morning, even.”

“Yeah. It’s like we’ve stepped into Luz’s Azura story. All the spells work, but nothing people say makes any sense, and all the rules have changed. No wonder your anxiety illusion was so big. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. And hey, I got that monocle off of Head Witch Adrien. I’m going to study it to figure out how it works. Imagine the spells I could do with it!”

“Just don’t push yourself too hard,” Willow cautioned. “You both went through a lot today. You don’t want to burn out and crash like – well, like that.”

Gus looked over. Hunter had fallen asleep, chin on his chest, hands in a loose circle around his palisman. He grinned and tilted the scroll so Willow could see the weighted blanket and their very convenient location on the bed.

“Mission accomplished!” he whispered. “Tomorrow’s goal: Get him to shower.”

She smothered a snort. “I will leave you to your stinky victory. Unless you want to switch to the chat?”

“Yes, please, my nose needs the distraction.”

The next time Gus woke up, the house was quiet. He’d fallen asleep sitting up, and his back and neck were stiff and painful. He groaned, remembering too late that Hunter was sleeping –

The bed was empty. Oh.

Gus took a deep breath, then got up slowly, working the stiffness out of his neck and shoulders. The sun was just coming up in the window outside. The boiling sea glittered in the light, like someone had thrown gold coins across its surface.

Chirrup?

“Hey, Lancelot!”

His palisman poked its nose out from Gus’ tunic pocket. Gus stroked its nose.

“Hey, buddy. Good call staying hidden yesterday. Adrien probably would’ve taken you like Darius almost did. I don’t suppose you saw Hunter leave?”

Chirr-chirrup!

“He’s…what?”

The chameleon chirped smugly and climbed up to Gus’ shoulder. Gus hurried out of the room and down the stairs, tiptoeing quietly past his dad, who lay sleeping on the pillow pile surrounded by notes and several crystal balls. He opened the door next to his father’s office.

The kitchen was almost the same size as the living room. On the left, a blue carved table sat under a window overlooking the sea. A massive fireplace, complete with a bubbling cauldron, took up the far wall. A counter with glass cabinets underneath took up most of the righthand wall, in the middle of which stood the former Golden Guard, struggling to cut a toematoe. A plate piled with rather soggy sandwiches sat at his elbow. Hunter’s palisman was sitting on his head, whistling at him.

“I know, I know!”

Hunter lined up the knife, but before he could chop, the toematoe grew six extra toes and scooted out of Hunter’s grip.

“Hey, get back here!”

“Need some help?”

“GAH!” Hunter jumped so hard he banged the counter. Half the sandwich pile sloughed off and hit the floor.

Gus grinned and reached forward, grabbing the runaway vegetable off the counter. “Apparently my sandwich really was that good. You trying to make breakfast?”

“I’m trying to make a trade.”

Gus paused. “A trade?”

“Yes, with the crab maidens!” He pointed out the window. The sun was almost completely above the horizon now, and a few crab maidens had popped out of the sand at the far end of the beach, yawning hugely. “Their old shells would be perfect for new armor. We could make some for the entire flyer derby team! And Luz,” he added.

Something in Gus’ stomach relaxed. “That’s actually a great idea. But we should probably start with a fresh batch. Also, does that one have cabbage and chocolate in it? How do you not know how to make a sandwich?”

Hunter shrugged. “I mostly ate whatever was ripe before Belos took me in, and I stuck to ration squares after Head Witch Vitimir poisoned my oatmeal as a joke.”

“That…would explain it,” Gus managed. “Okay, look. You go shower, I’ll make something actual edible. I’ll grab some of my dad’s clothes for you to borrow.”

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were heading down the beach, leaving a note on the table for Gus’ dad. They had left their palismen napping together on the couch. Hunter was wearing a short-sleeved sky blue tunic cinched with one of Gus’ biggest belts over some rolled-up pants. It wasn’t perfect, but it smelled a lot better, although Hunter had insisted on keeping the gloves. Gus had tried using the monocle to enhance his Luz illusion. The result was a lot more accurate, especially the hair – he barely had to concentrate at all to get it to move with the sea breeze as they walked. Each of them carried a plate piled high with sandwiches cut into the shape of a crab claw.

“I’ve never even talked to the crab maidens,” Gus said. “You sure they’re going to want sandwiches?”

Hunter shrugged. “They used to take offerings of gold and silver in the deadwardian era, but after a while the inflation destroyed their economy. Now they just take food. How do you not know this? You grew up next to their biggest colony.”

“Hey, you can’t do much illusion magic with crab maiden shells. I was way more interested in using the sand to make glass.” Suddenly a flash of movement caught Gus’ eye. He squinted. “Hey…is that a screamgull over there, or a piece of paper?”

“What? Oh – piece of paper, I think. Why?”

“I told you, illusionists use this beach to make mirrors and other equipment. Littering is serious. Give me a second.”

“Do it later, they’ve seen us already.”

Gus reluctantly pulled himself away. This close, he counted seven crab maidens sprawled out across the rocks. Thick, glossy shells covered their shoulders, back and chests. The bottom half of their bodies were shaped like shrimp tails, with hard, many-jointed legs. Some had thick shells over their heads, and their arms all ended in giant claws the size of dinner plates. Four of them were flopped over the rocks fast asleep, but one was feeding what looked like her pet screamgull while the other two talked. They broke off their conversation to eye the plates of sandwiches.

“Be ye the townsfolk?” asked a maiden with dark brown spikes along her head shell.

“Yes?” Gus tried, but the maiden with the gull was already shaking her arm.

“Quit the fancy talk, Shellbie, they have sandwiches! Lord Thrasher approves!”

The screamgull emitted a deep, eerie growl. Gus edged behind Hunter.

“We’re here to make a trade,” Hunter said bluntly. “Both plates of sandwiches for any discarded shells.”

Some of the other crab maidens had started to wake up. “Izzat food?” one of them asked sleepily. She tried to rub her eyes, stabbed herself with a yelp, blinked a few times, and tried again.

“Our shells are of no concern to us,” Shelbie sniffed. “But we molt them in the sand. We’re not about to dig them up for a few crusts of bread. You dig them up, if you want them so badly.”

Gus frowned and started to move forward, but Hunter put out a hand to stop him.

“Crab maidens secrete a poison when they molt,” he explained. “It’s to protect them from toothworms while their new shell hardens. It’s dangerous to touch one before the poison weakens.” He turned back to the crab maidens, all of whom were now eyeing the sandwiches greedily. “You want these? You dig them up yourselves. You know where all the safe ones are buried.”

“We are not resorting to –”

“You just don’t want to ruin your claw polish,” another maiden scolded, slipping off the rock. “Start digging, Shelbie, or you’ll be sharing crusts with Thrasher.”

“It’s Lord Thrasher, Clawdia! Lord!”

Hunter and Gus stood back while the maidens went to work. Within seconds, plumes of sand were sprouting everywhere, and a small pile of shells was growing in the middle.

“Should we be concerned about how fast their digging?” Gus asked.

Hunter shrugged. “They dig fast when they’re motivated.”

One of the crab maidens ran into a large boulder. A split second later it was sliced in half, the left end skipping three times across the ocean before it sank. Gus swallowed.

“Fast is one word for it.”

When the maidens did stop, the pile of shells was as high as Gus’ waist, and included several shoulder and back shells that would fit an Emerald Entrail member perfectly. Some of the shells had cracked at the edges, but Gus figured those could be patched up or at least work as decent shields. Hunter stepped closer to inspect them.

The screamgull maiden inched closer. “They’re safe already, just give us the sandwiches!”

Her death bird turned its head very slowly to look at Gus. Gus was almost sure the bird was looking at his fingers and not the sandwiches.

“Uh, Hunter?” he asked nervously.

“Done. Here.” Hunter held out his plate. Shelbie and the maiden who had scolded her rushed forward to take it.

It happened almost too fast to follow. A huge ring of teeth sliced through the sand, each a foot long, with Hunter, the shells, and the two maidens at the center. As Hunter started to turn, the rest of the creature followed – a massive toothworm, ropes of thick gray saliva flinging from its teeth and down its black-scaled body. The beach shook so hard Gus lost his footing and fell. The other crab maidens screamed, raw terror in their voices, and Gus looked up in time to see the toothworm plunge into the boiling sea - with its jaws still open.

“No! STOP!” Gus flipped over, drew a plant rune and slapped it. A thick vine burst from the sand and shot into the foaming water, withering almost instantly on contact. He drew another, and another. He yanked the monocle from his collar and dropped it. “No, come on – Hunter, come on!”

Suddenly a shadow grew in the water. Gus scrambled to his feet just as the toothworm exploded from the water, its jaw blocked up with ice. It gave a muffled roar and plunged into the sand, shattering the ice. Inside was – Hunter! He and the crab maidens were clinging to the ice. The worm jerked its head back. Gus saw its throat working, heard the awful crunch as the shells it had scooped up were crushed. The crab maidens screamed louder.

Hunter locked eyes with him. “Gus! VINES!”

Gus drew a glyph and struck with both hands. Vines erupted from his fingers, knocking him backwards as they wrapped around the toothworm’s throat. It screeched and hurled itself into the sand and some of the vines snapped, but some pulled taut and the worm jerked sideways with a pained screeched. Sand showered him as it thrashed and Gus covered his eyes.

Then he heard the unmistakable crack of breaking ice.

“Hunter!”

Hunter leaped from the open gap just as the ice buckled, both crab maidens clinging to his tunic. He slapped a piece of paper between his hands. A triangular wedge of ice sprang from the glyph. He landed and slid down the side as the toothworm gave a final cry and dove back into the searing ocean waves.

The second Hunter’s boots hit the sand, the crab maidens let go of his tunic and collapsed.

“Oh my Titan,” one of them sobbed. “Oh my Titan, ohmyTitan ohmyTitan –”

“The water was so hot, I thought we’d get boiled –”

“Hurry, the rocks!” cried the one with the screamgull, and the other crab maidens rushed over to drag them to the safety of the huge flat stones.

Gus stood up on shaky legs. “Hun- Luz! Are you okay? Hurry, I have some burn salve at the house, we can call Viney –”

Hunter stared at the water in horror. “I lost the shells.”

“Who cares, you just got dunked in the boiling sea!”

“Yes and I lost the shells!” He turned to dive back in. Gus grabbed his arm and nearly let go – his sleeve was steaming hot.

“Don’t! You got lucky with the ice, you could literally die jumping in like that!”

“I’ve done it before, I don’t– oh…”

Hunter’s knees gave out so suddenly that Gus fell backwards onto the sand. He scrambled around to get in front of Hunter, but he was now sitting completely still, hands braced behind him. He looked shellshocked.

Gus gripped his arms. “Hey! Can you hear me? I can’t, you know, check your skin for burns until we’re inside, but I need to make sure you’re alright. Look at me if you can hear me.” Hunter let out a weird wheezing noise, but before Gus could panic he shifted his gaze to Gus. “Good. Okay, let’s check your eyes. What are three things you see?”

“…You,” Hunter said, sounding strangled. Was his airway blocked? Was that stress or accidental crab poison? “The…ocean. The sky.”

He was still breathing. Good. “Ears next. Two things you hear?”

“Waves. Wind.”

“Now skin. One thing you feel.”

“Sand.” Hunter shifted, grabbing a handful of sand in one fist. “I didn’t feel it coming. Toothworms live two ribs over, they’re not supposed to migrate this early. Now I don’t – I don’t have anything –”

“Gus! Luz! Are you two alright?”

They looked up. Gus’ father was jogging towards them, a crumpled piece of paper clutched in one hand. Both palismen were riding on his shoulder. As they approached, Hunter’s bird launched itself and landed on Hunter’s knee, chirping frantically.

“Dad!”

“I saw the toothworm from the window. You’re both lucky to be in one piece, those things are dangerous! We need to get inside so I can check you two over.”

“I’m fine,” Hunter muttered, standing up.

“I’ll believe that when I see it. That goes for you too, Gus. The crab maiden shells were a nice thought, but they’re covered in poison – please tell me you didn’t touch any of them!”

“I didn’t,” Gus said, glancing at Hunter’s back as he took the lead. “Hunter told the maidens to dig up the shells that were safe. I guess that’s why the toothworm attacked. It smelled a lot of crab maidens and a lot less poison all in one place.”

His father frowned. “They’re not even supposed to be here until next month.”

All the same, Gus’ dad made them sit down at the kitchen table and drop the Luz illusion so he could check Hunter thoroughly. Hunter avoided eye contact, gripping his knees. He was pale and clenching his jaw hard enough to crack a tooth, but other than that he looked fine. He had a few scratches on his arms and left leg, but they were so shallow they’d already stopped bleeding. His clothes had long since cooled off. His skin wasn’t even red!

“What,” Hunter finally snapped.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Gus demanded. “You got swallowed by a toothworm and dunked in the boiling sea and barely got a scratch! Exactly how fast were you with that ice spell?”

“It wasn’t a spell, it was a glyph. Luz showed me last week.”

“You learned it in a week?”

“Gus,” his dad warned, moving over to check Gus’ hands.

“No, sorry, that’s just – that is crazy impressive.”

“He was dubbed a teen prodigy as the Golden Guard,” his father reminded him. Gus saw Hunter flinch at the title.

“I remember, Dad, but – wow.”

“You’re equally impressive with illusions,” his dad said, standing up. “And with getting lucky. The crab maiden shells were a good thought, but next time try something that won’t give me a heart attack. And Hunter – Gus is my son, which gives me some authority, but you held a legitimate position in the government. I understand you outrank me. So I’m asking you, please, don’t risk yourself like that. It’s not worth getting killed over.”

Hunter didn’t say anything.

Something in the shadows of his eyes made Gus feel like he’d swallowed some ice. “How about working on the monocle?” Gus blurted.

His dad looked at him, surprised. “The what?”

“This!” Gus tapped the small glass. “I got it from Head Witch Adrien. It amplifies magic. What do you think, Hunter? You had access to the imperial library, you’re already familiar with old illusionist texts – you’re pretty familiar with wild magic. You could probably help me learn use it for really complicated spells.”

“I…could,” Hunter said hesitantly. He glanced at his palisman, who whistled encouragingly. He took a deep breath. “Yeah. We could study it.”

“Great! Maybe we could think of something that would protect everyone, not just the Emerald Entrails.”

Hunter’s mouth twitched. “Just don’t ask me to knit any witch’s wool.”

Gus burst out laughing.

His dad grinned and dug the crumpled paper out of his shirt pocket. “You know, funny you should say that. I found a flyer for sewing lessons on my way over to you. It’s just litter, but – hey!”

“Hunter?”

Hunter had turned paper-white and grabbed the flyer, fingers digging so hard the edges tore. Gus stood up to get a better luck. The flyer was done in blacks and golds, edged with weird black curls on the front and back. It was hard to read the cursive upside down, but it had a pair of sewing needles piercing the hem of a golden cloak. Gus’ stomach lurched, and when Hunter held it up to the light, Gus’ stomach went straight through the floor.

The designs on the front and back formed the old Golden Guard sigil. Down in the bottom right corner was a date and time – tonight, at dusk.

“Hunter? What is this?”

“It’s Darius,” Hunter whispered. His hands were shaking. “He found me.”

Chapter Text

“Would you stop?” Perry said, exasperated.

Gus looked over. Hunter had checked the windows for the hundredth time.

“He’ll be here in ten minutes. You said the only way past the wards is through the front door.”

“It only opens if we answer it! Are you sure he’s even a threat? I told you, Principle Bump called him right after the Bat Queen for help with security. Darius even got Eberwolf to help find all the eyebugs!”

“Because Head Witches have proven so trustworthy,” Gus said sarcastically. He turned back to his work. He was running his hands along the walls. The places where he touched warped, revealing a complicated ward spell. Gus flashed the monocle at it and the spell blazed with strength.

Willow was kneeling by the office door. Gus had panicked and sent a mass text in the group chat that morning. She’d run straight here through one of her tunnels, reassured the rest of the group that nothing was on fire, and set about laying plant traps in every room. She finished sprinkling some seeds in the corner and stood, glancing at his dad.

“You said you checked the future?” she asked.

“Yes! Everyone walks away in one piece. There’s no fighting.”

“What about tomorrow and the day after that?”

He grimaced. “Things…get fuzzier the closer they are to the Day of Unity. But I promise nothing happens tonight. Well - Gus uses a spell, but not in attack or defense.”

Gus looked up. “I use a spell? You didn’t mention that before.”

“Things are easier to see the closer they are.”

“That’s exactly the point!” Hunter turned sharply, staff in hand, glaring at his dad. “Nothing happens tonight. For all we know, he’s doing reconnaissance to launch an attack on you later. He already knows I’m here. You need to leave, now, so he doesn’t have a chance to plant eyebugs on you or learn anything about where you’re going.”

“He won’t.” Willow smiled. Suddenly her clothes bristled with thorns from every pocket, cuff, and collar. A particularly nasty black vine crawled over her shoulder and hung itself in a cute heart shape, dripping bloodred sap. “If he tries to plant anything on me, I’ll just return the favor.”

Gus grinned, but his dad just looked horrified. “Please tell me you didn’t put seeds in the couch cushions.”

“And the bookshelves. And don’t stand too close to your office.”

Knock, knock.

All four of them went perfectly still. Hunter, still standing by the window, turned white. Gus hurried to stand next to him. Willow sucked her plants back into her clothes and stood, gesturing for them to step back. His dad stayed by the large crystal ball, looking anxious. Willow held one hand behind her back, a tiny vine just curling around her fingers, and opened the door.

No one was there.

She frowned. “Where did –”

“The floor!” Hunter shouted.

Abomination goo was pouring from every corner of the room and swirling together in the middle. Willow slammed the door and Perry leaped back with a yelp. The goo rose and shaped itself until Darius stood in front of them, wearing a thick black cloak over his usual clothes. He looked down in irritation, then held up his left hand, dangling limply at the wrist.

“Alright, does anyone want to tell me why there were numbing nettle seeds in the corner? Self care is hard enough these days, I can’t exactly give myself a manicure one-handed!”

“Why are you here?” Willow asked sharply.

“To give sewing lessons,” he said drily. “Just – here.”

He held up his right hand. Goo flowed down his arm and collected into a new shape, until he was holding the handle of a small wooden box.

“Open it first,” Gus told him.

“Don’t,” Hunter said sharply. “Whatever’s in there could be dangerous.”

“For Titan’s sake, I’m not going to hurt you!”

“You tried to kidnap me and Willow last week!” Gus shouted.

His dad looked from Gus to Darius. “I’m sorry, you what?”

“To be fair, Hunter tried to kidnap you first.”

“Hunter gave us reasons to trust him again,” Willow said, stepping to his side without taking her eyes off of Darius. “All you’ve done is proven you know how to find him even with his disguise and invite yourself over, when for all we knew you were bringing every available Scout to arrest us. Helping Bump doesn’t prove you’re trustworthy. Head Witch Adrien pretended he was helping, too.”

“Look, I’d only kidnapped you for appearance’s sake, I was taking you in a circle back to Hexside. Didn’t you find it odd you were within walking distance on the way back? And I didn’t tell Belos about Hunter’s palisman – I gave him matching socks!”

Gus scowled. “Oh hooray, matching socks! How about standing up for him when the other heads tortured or poisoned him?”

“They what?” Darius and Perry asked at once.

Darius took a slow, deep breath. “Fine. If it will help you trust me, I invite you to look inside my mind.”

“No!” Hunter grabbed Gus’ shoulder. “Don’t, if he traps you in his subconscious –”

“I said look,” Darius repeated impatiently. “My brain had teenage hormones in it once and I have no wish to repeat the experience indefinitely. Just create a window to look at my thoughts. I believe Adrien used a similar spell on – Gus, was it?”

“Gus?” Willow asked.

Gus hesitated. “He did, but…the spell hurt. I don’t know that I could do that to someone else.”

“Spells are about intention,” Hunter said grudgingly. “Not just technique. Your mental state affects the hormones released in your body, which affects the humors in your bile sac. If you’re angry or looking to hurt someone, the spell will be influenced by that. If you’re not, it shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t?”

Darius groaned. “Just cast the spell. We need more allies against Belos and the sooner you trust me, the better for everyone.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Perry asked.

“Look and see.”

“You don’t have to,” Hunter said, but Gus shook his head and stepped forward.

“I’ll do it. But if it hurts, I’ll stop.”

Darius formed a purple lounge chair out of abomination goo and sat down, placing the box at his feet. When Gus stepped forward, Darius leaned in and closed his eyes. Gus took the monocle from his collar. He remembered the way the spell felt, the structure of it, and held the image in his mind. Lancelot climbed up to his shoulder and squeaked in his ear.

“One, two, three, four,” he muttered, and drew the circle.

His control was much better than Adrien’s, and the images only appeared within the circle instead of across the whole room. He saw a young teenager with mint-green hair running from the auditorium at Hexside, then smiling at him across the coven head table. He saw Head Witch Eberwolf silently whistling eyebugs to sleep in Darius’ room, and again at Hexside. He saw a sweeping image of hundreds of abomitons lined up in an underground cave. He saw Darius reform in his room out of goo, then hurry to his desk to draw an image of the draining spell. Each image was brief, but the feelings in them poured through the spell, so Gus understood conversations and emotional context in the blink of an eye.

Gus concentrated on Hunter, and the images shifted. He saw a man with a notch in his ear who looked enough like Hunter to be his brother, grinning as they dueled in the castle courtyard. He saw Darius flying in an airship toward the Knee, where a landslide overtook a group of teenagers – only for a much younger Hunter to dig his way out minutes later, pulling another teenager with him. He saw Hunter standing in front of the Emerald Entrails, pulling the cloak off his shoulders. He saw the Owl House at night, the door flinging open, Hunter sprinting out with his head down –

“I’m done,” Gus said abruptly. He remembered to keep breathing. He kept the monocle in place to maintain the spell and looked at Hunter. “Do you want to see this?”

“N-no.”

“I do,” Willow said, face set with determination. She stepped forward and Gus moved aside, taking her hand to connect her to the spell. Her eyes focused on the flashing images.

Part of Gus wished he hadn’t done the spell. He’d managed to avoid making it hurt, but that had felt so…invasive. And upsetting. Belos bugged his own coven heads? Raine started a rebellion? Belos had an army? And why had Hunter been crying at the Owl House? Darius’ reaction to that one had been almost –

“Okay,” Willow said, stepping away. “He’s on our side. Gus?”

“He’s with the CATs,” he agreed.

“Don’t you start,” Darius grumbled.

They looked at Hunter. He was still pale, but after a moment he nodded. Flapjack morphed back to animal form and landed on his shoulder, bumping his chin with their head.

“Wait,” His dad said suddenly. “Can I –”

“No.” Darius stood up. “Since we’re done with that, here.”

The chair dissolved back into goo and flowed across the room, enveloping Hunter’s hands. He yelped and leaped back, but it was already dripping down his wrists, leaving the box from earlier resting in his hands. Hunter stared at it for a second, then opened the lid. Gus leaned over. It held a small can of wood polish, varnish, sealant, a soft cloth, and an even smaller box with a needle and thread carved into the top.

“A…palisman care kit?” Hunter asked.

“And a sewing kit,” Darius said, looking at Hunter’s cloak with a pained expression. “Please learn how to use it. Now, I can’t visit too often between here and the rebel base or they’ll notice my absence at the castle, but Hunter knows my number. Eberwolf has been friends with the corvids for years, so the connection is still secure. Call for anything. Any questions?”

“Yes!” His dad said emphatically, but Willow stepped forward again.

“You said you needed more allies against Belos. What can we do right now to help stop the draining spell?”

“Try to stay out of trouble. Though given your protest at the petrification, I’m not holding my breath.”

“That’s not an answer,” Hunter growled.

“Yes it is, little prince, it’s just an answer you don’t like. Once we figure out how to stop the spell, we’ll need all the resources we can throw at this. Including you three if necessary.”

His dad frowned. “What can I do,” he said slowly, “so they don’t need to get involved?”

“Send me a list of night market contacts, spread word of the draining spell to whoever won’t report you, and for Titan’s sake give these three something to do so they stay out of my hair. Don’t draw attention to yourselves." He paused. "You're safe here?" he asked, looking closely at Hunter.

He blinked. "I - yes? I'm safe."

"Good. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

Suddenly Darius’ body dissolved into abomination goop, and in seconds he had slipped through the crack under the door and was gone.

They were quiet for a few seconds.

“Hunter?” Willow asked. “Do you need anything right now?”

“We could tell you want we saw,” Gus offered.

“No,” he mumbled. “I trust your judgement.”

Willow gave him a nudge with her elbow. “Hey, trust your own judgement, too. You made the right call to meet with Darius.”

“It’s just – not the first time I’ve been told to stay behind.”

“You’re not staying behind, you’re staying with us,” Willow corrected. “And technically, he didn’t say we should do nothing. He said we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves.” She grinned. “There is a big difference.”

“I’m right here,” his dad said pointedly.

But Hunter shook his head. “Going outside is a bad idea right now anyway, even disguised as Luz. We don’t know when she’ll be back. People will get suspicious if ‘Luz’ shows up in two places at once. Darius is right. I just…wish he wasn’t.”

“He was right about the sewing lessons, too,” Gus offered.

Willow smacked him with a pillow.

Since it had gotten so late already, Willow texted her dads to let them know she was sleeping over. Gus’ dad seemed to have taken Darius’ advice to heart, because he asked them to help him make dinner. Hunter couldn’t cook, but he could chop fairly well, so they made stickyroot stew with fresh bread before settling in the living room to talk. Hunter and Gus sat on the couch, while Willow took the pillow pile. When they promised to stay put, Gus’ dad went to his office to compose a list of his night market contacts.

“Do you think we should move upstairs?” Gus asked, staring after him with concern. “We’re sleeping in his usual spot.”

“The couch?” Hunter asked.

“The pillows. I set this up when I was like six. They’re for working long nights when he’s too tired to make it upstairs.”

“I thought those were for your anxiety illusions.”

Gus shrugged. “Sort of. They tend to tire me out, and that last one was huge. I’m still kind of glad I had it, though. I can’t believe a coven head would just try and trick people and - and hurt them! Have they always been like that and people just never noticed?”

“Yes, Gus, they have always been like that,” Hunter said flatly.

Willow winced. He still looked really pale.

“Let’s talk about something else for a bit,” she suggested. “If I have to think about an evil government for one more second, I’m going to sprout nightshade and ‘draw attention’ to myself.”

Gus laughed and even Hunter cracked a smile. “I thought you were going to a couple of times,” Gus said, still grinning. “But yeah, I could go for a mental break. You guys want to stream something?”

“Oh, are we having a full-on teen sleepover?” Willow asked eagerly.

“What’s a sleepover?” Hunter asked.

“This!” Gus leaned back and gestured to the room. “Pillows, blankets, a world of shallow media at our fingertips, and no parents in sight. All we’re missing is snacks.”

“And soothing human noises,” Willow added. “I could really use some opera trains.”

“Opera what?”

“Human thing,” Gus explained. “Don’t worry, we can still binge shows and snacks. Are you a slice-of-life guy or horror guy?”

“There’s more than two choices, Gus. Just put on My Life as a Teenage Human.”

“That show is rife with inaccuracies! They don’t even have paperclips!”

They ended up watching it anyway. Gus grabbed snacks and Willow sat on the floor between them, her scroll hovering in midair. Gus enlarged the screen with an illusion, but she had more fun watching Hunter’s reaction than the show. He wanted to know why very-obviously-adult actors were playing teenage students, why the entire student body looked practically identical, why none of the sports involved deadly force (“Neither did Flyer Derby,” Gus pointed out, at which point Willow told him it actually did at the professional level.) He also got very excited the first time Tressica high-fived her crush, because apparently Gus had shown him what a high-five was. This led to a round of high-fives, low-fives, and finally a special handshake between Gus and Hunter that ended in a headbutt.

Gus was the first to fall asleep halfway through the first season, slumped over an armrest. Willow started dozing off around midnight. She kept waking up when the next episode began, and each time Hunter was still awake, gently stroking his palisman.

Finally she woke up at the witching hour. The house was dark and quiet, and her scroll showed a black screen. The playlist had ended ages ago. She wasn’t sure what had woken her up. She frowned, stretching her magic to the seeds in her cuffs. If Darius had somehow broken the wards –

She heard a quiet, airless gasp.

It was Hunter. She stood up, hovering anxiously. His hands clenched and unclenched, arms and legs twitching as if he was struggling to run. His face was chalk-white and covered in sweat. She wanted to wake him, but she also knew that might just startle him and make it worse. Should she call his name? Should she call her dad? He was a counselor, he might –

Hunter jerked awake with a choked scream, eyes wild, gripping the sofa. His palisman took flight in alarm.

“It’s okay!” Willow said quickly, stepping over so she was farther away but directly in front of him. “Hunter, it was a nightmare. You’re in Gus’ house. Your palisman is right here. Everyone is safe.”

"I - what?"

"You're safe," she repeated slowly. "It was just a nightmare. You're in Gus' house. You're safe."

“Is my face okay?”

She blinked, then looked more closely. “Your face looks fine. A little sweaty. Do you want some cool water?”

Hunter shook his head. He looked like he was about to fall over and he was wheezing pretty badly. He rubbed his fingers over his forehead, close to his hairline, then scrubbed at his face with both hands.

“Gus said he showed you how to slow your breathing. Do you want to try it with me?”

He nodded. Willow held up her hand and began counting, breathing with him. They did it three times before he looked away. His palisman fluttered in front of him. After a second he reached out, cupping his hands. It settled on his palms and whistled softly.

Willow plopped down on the pillow pile, cross-legged. “That looked rough. Should I wake you up next time?”

“No,” he muttered. “I think I might hit you. I hit the wall at school a couple of times.”

“At school?”

“In the Paranoratorium. I stayed there for a few days.”

“A few – is that why you stopped answering in the Emerald Entrails groupchat? Hunter, that was a whole week!”

“I left my scroll in the castle, I wasn’t planning on never going back!”

“That’s not what – never mind, here.” Willow snatched her scroll from the air and handed it over. “I have my spare with me, you can keep that one. And I don’t have a corvid number, but I think my pa might. Next time I don’t hear from you I am going to come looking.”

“Yes, Captain,” he said weakly.

“Good.” She sighed, then flopped back onto the pillows. “I don’t think I can fall back asleep right now. What about you? I can stop talking if you’re tired.”

“No, this is about the time I normally wake up.”

“It’s like four in the morning!”

He shrugged, his gaze sliding to the bookshelves. “Maybe we could read? Or practice magic. Gus and I were talking about his monocle earlier and I think it could be used for more than just amplifying magic. It’s almost like it…translates the structure of the spell from bile sac to glyphs through light refraction. I think it would work best for illusionists, who are used to working with light, but I’m also wondering if we could use it to identify the glyph pattern in a witch’s spell. That way we could replicate it with glyphs or see which glyphs are used and how.”

She blinked. “Wow, you’re really well-versed in magical analysis.”

“Of course. I studied everything I could on wild magic to help Unc– er. It doesn’t matter.”

She leaned over and grabbed a book. “How about this one? ‘Demon in the Details: Understanding the Light Refraction in Illusions’ – hey, I got this for Gus on his birthday!”

“Oh, I read that one! The first three chapters are all about understanding perspective and there are even drawing exercises, but chapter four gets into manipulating ambient light versus producing light.”

“Like my vines?” she asked. “I’ve noticed my vines glow when I’m actively manipulating them, but I’m not sure if it’s because they’re plants and use light, or because of the spell I’m doing.”

They talked for over an hour on different types of magic. Hunter was extremely knowledgeable and sometimes referenced concepts she’d never heard of but couldn’t wait to try. Eventually she mentioned that she’d tried combining concepts from other magic into plant magic. That was how she’d originally grown her classmate’s faces from a vine a few months ago, and since then she’d been working on a prism plant – something that could grow glass petals to refract light. The only problem was that the prisms tended to spontaneously explode. Hunter got so excited that he insisted growing one right there in the living room so they could study the effects.

“Gus is still asleep!” she protested, grinning.

“We can just go to another room – hey!”

Gus picked that moment to roll over, head resting heavily on Hunter’s shoulder, one arm flopped over Hunter’s arm like he was hugging a very awkward body pillow. Hunter’s ears turned red and Willow smothered a laugh.

“Don’t laugh, what is he doing?” Hunter hissed. “He didn’t do whatever this is last night!”

“He’s probably cold,” she said, still smiling. “Hang on, let me grab the blanket.” She leaned over, pulled a blanket from under the couch, and started tucking it around Gus’ shoulder.

“Um.”

“You want to move and wake him up?” she asked, tugging the rest of it over Hunter’s legs. His palisman flew to his lap and immediately snuggled into the folds, whistling.

Hunter shifted awkwardly. “Fine, I guess. Uh. Pass me that book on the Savage Ages?”

“Here. I’m going to get some water, do you want any?”

“No thank you,” he said, already opening the book.

She headed for the kitchen. Flapjack had given her an idea about growing more palisman trees. Out of all the plants in the Boiling Isles, they were one of the few plants that couldn’t be grown with a spell circle. Were they a completely different type of magic? Or maybe there was a fifth glyph in their bark somewhere, and it didn’t have a bile sac equivalent?

“Hey Hunter, have you – oh!”

She’d been gone for less than a minute, but when she came back Hunter was fast asleep. His face was back to its usual level of paleness, and the muscles around his eyes had relaxed. His head was pillowed on Gus’ curls. One hand lay on the open book, and the other was loosely curled around his palisman. He was snoring quietly.

Willow smiled and settled back into the pillow pile. It might be a good idea to stay awake in case he had another nightmare. Especially if he accidentally whacked Gus in the face. Then again, she’d seen Hunter asleep next to Gus yesterday, and Gus hadn’t mentioned anything about it. Had he kept it to himself to protect Hunter’s privacy? Maybe, but he would’ve mentioned separate sleeping spots if he was worried about Willow getting hit tonight.

She looked at Hunter, frowning thoughtfully. Last night he’d had a weighted blanket on him and fallen in under a minute. Tonight Gus used him as a pillow and Hunter had passed out just as fast.

Hmm.

She set the glass aside and lay down, staring at the ceiling. The Belos thing was still too big for her to keep thinking about, but thinking about Hunter was different. They were friends. Which felt weird, because outside of the Emerald Entrails chat, she’d only hung out with him at their first game and then again earlier today. (She didn’t count fighting Head Witch Drama King as ‘hanging out.’)

But he was her friend. She remembered being in that awful cell, hearing Hunter say that friends stabbed each other in the back, and then twenty minutes later watching him stand between them and Darius. She remembered what Gus had said earlier about the head witches torturing and poisoning him. How quiet Hunter had been when Darius was here. How excited he’d been when he talked about wild magic and that goofy high five. Of course he’d been excited – those were completely separate from coven stuff, and they were things he knew about.

Okay, she could work with that.

She got out her spare scroll, hopped onto penstagram, and started typing.

Chapter Text

Hunter was sitting in Gus’ living room on the couch, carefully sewing the project in his hands. Darius reclined in an abomination lounge chair next to him, eyes shut while a pair of pants sewed itself overhead.

Hunter tied off a knot. “Okay, how’s that?”

Darius opened an eye. “That’s less of a ‘running stitch’ and more of a ‘painful limp,’ but at least it’s a straight line.”

Flapjack tweeted his agreement, and Hunter glared at him while the little traitor laughed.

Willow and Gus had been acting weird all morning, pretending to read and then checking the windows while insisting Hunter stay in the living room and not go upstairs. He’d only been up there once anyway, and all the books were down here. He’d almost thought it was pre-Unity nerves, or maybe the wards upstairs had been compromised, but when he’d asked about it Gus had quickly insisted that everything was fine.

“We’re just planning a surprise for you!” he said. “It’ll be great, I promise. It’ll have paperclips!”

It had been a relief when Darius showed up a few hours ago. He said he’d come for Perry’s list of contacts, but then Perry disappeared into his office and Darius had set himself up in the living room for “self care.” Which apparently meant a sewing lesson.

“How is a sewing lesson self care?” Hunter asked.

“It’ll keep me from getting migraines every time I see that blue cloak.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“It’s that bad,” Gus and Darius said immediately.

Whatever. Willow and Gus seemed satisfied that Darius would keep him in the living room, so they’d both gone upstairs. Hunter told Darius what he’d wanted to make, and Darius had given him the materials and shown him how to do it. Then he’d gooped up a chair and started making clothes for Hunter. Hunter was now wearing a dark brown shirt that actually fit, while Darius worked on the matching pants. Flapjack had settled in Hunter’s hair, chirping softly.

Hunter flipped his project over and started on the opposite side, squinting. Maybe he shouldn’t have chosen black thread for black fabric. He could barely see what he was doing! His eyes drifted up to the pants Darius was making. Darius was, quite literally, sewing with his eyes closed. Could he learn to do that with Flapjack? A staff wasn’t responsive in the same ways as a bile sack, but that didn’t make it impossible. Maybe if –

“Ow!”

“Watch your hands,” Darius said without looking.

“I’m trying!”

“Why don’t you just take off your gloves? You’ll have better coordination.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll see it any better!” He grunted in frustration, dug through the books still piled around the sofa, and pulled out an empty page. Flapjack tweeted and handed him a stick of charcoal in its beak. He drew a light glyph, tapped it, and herded it directly over his lap. Then he caught Darius staring at him. “What?”

“Where did you learn that?”

“Luz the human,” he admitted grudgingly. “It’s not – I could’ve made light with my staff, but Flapjack was comfortable, okay? What?”

Darius smirked. “This from the Golden Guard who insisted on black ink, not blue, for quarterly reports. Nice to see you breaking the rules for a change.”

Hunter scowled. “Well…they were dumb rules.”

“Duh!”

They both looked up. Gus was leaning over the top of the banister, grinning. Hunter quickly stuffed his project into his pocket.

“You guys done with your bonding moment yet?” Gus asked. “Wait – were you two actually having a sewing lesson? I kind of thought you were joking.”

“It’s for my sanity,” Darius said, gesturing as the pants folded themselves neatly next to Hunter.

“Riiiight. And the charred blue lump outside?”

“Also for my sanity.”

Hunter stood up as Gus came downstairs. “What were you working on upstairs? Can I help?”

Gus’ grin widened. “You can, we’re almost ready!”

“Ready for –”

There were several raps on the door. Hunter jumped, and then he was standing in front of Gus gripping his staff tight enough to crack.

“Whoa! It’s okay, Hunter, it’s just –”

“Gus!” came a familiar voice. “Hurry up, this is heavy!”

Hunter blinked. “Is that…Skara?”

“And Viney!” Gus grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for them to startle you. I invited them over for your first official sleepover!”

“My what?”

“Gus!” Skara called again.

Hunter stepped back. Gus hurried to the door and tapped it. There was a soft flash of light as the mirror verified them. When it swung open, Viney and Skara stumbled inside, carrying a massive cauldron between them. It was crammed with rolled-up texts, glass bottles sloshing with liquids, palm-sized mirrors, as well as other items that didn’t look magic-related at all. Hunter thought he caught a glimpse of a flyer derby poster crammed next to a checkered quilt.

Skara spotted him first. “Hunter! Hi! Are you – aw, when did you get a new shirt? I was going to make you one!”

“He’ll still need an overshirt,” Darius said, standing up. “And that’s my cue to leave. Try to call me if all this teenage rebellion becomes an actual rebellion, won’t you? I’d like some warning so I can pack my eye masks.”

“You could always do eye masks here with us!” Viney said cheerfully.

“Pass.” Darius melted into the floor, the goo chair flowing after him with a faint pop.

Viney grabbed Hunter’s arm. “Come on, you and I are the only one with actual muscles, help me carry this cauldron!”

“Or just do this,” Willow called from upstairs, and a massive flower bud sprouted under the cauldron and lifted it toward the second floor. Viney squealed with excitement and Gus grabbed Hunter’s other arm.

“Um, what is this?” Hunter asked him.

“I told you, it’s your first official sleepover! And we’ve got a surprise, come on!”

They pulled him upstairs. This time, when they turned left, Hunter saw a door next to Gus’ bedroom that definitely hadn’t been there before.

“It’s the spare room I told you about,” Gus explained. “I said you could use it if you stayed here, but when I checked this morning it was really gross and dusty. Willow and I spent all day cleaning it, and now – tada!” He pushed it open.

The room was arranged like Gus’, with a dresser on the left and a bed on the right, both a warm brown. The wall paper was dingy gray and stained, and the ceiling was a surprisingly ugly shade of mucus white, but they were hard to see under the flourishing zimmertwistle vines – pale green plants with corkscrew tendrils and tiny white flowers. A chokeward shrub sat on the dresser, its stubby stems framing the window behind it. The room smelled sweet and slightly smoky, and Willow stood in the middle of the floor, smudges of dirt across her cheek. Viney and Skara’s cauldron sat in front of her.

“What do you think?” she asked eagerly. “The zimmertwistle flowers glow if you whistle at them, so you can stay up late to read without straining your eyes. And I already taught the chokeward to recognize you. That way you have extra protection around the window. I know the rest of the room is pretty plain, but we wanted you to decorate it however you like!”

“Though if you turn down my blanket I will cry,” Viney warned. “I used practically all of Puddles’ baby feathers to make it super soft and heavy. She says hi, by the way!”

“You sure she didn’t say ‘die’?” Hunter asked, but he was barely paying attention. His head felt funny. “I don’t – the Day of Unity is in three days, we shouldn’t –”

“It’s not just for you,” Skara said, pulling out her scroll. “We’re going to need a base of operations to take down Belos.”

“We’ve all been going stir crazy at home,” Willow explained. “It would help to make a few plans in case of the Day of Unity gets here and we’re in a position to act. Doesn’t mean we’ll get the chance, but just in case. And in the meantime, putting together a bedroom is a tangible, achievable task that lets us spend time with you. It feels like we’ve barely even talked after your one day off.”

“Unless you’d rather not?” Gus asked, looking up at him. “We wanted it to be a happy surprise, but we can always just hang out downstairs like last night. I wasn’t sure which you’d like better, which is kind of Willow’s point.”

His head definitely felt funny. So did his throat. “No, this – this is fine.”

“Awesome!” Willow gestured and several objects rose from the cauldron, supported by vines. “Let’s get accessorizing! What do you want first?”

“Oh oh, let’s put up the corkboard!” Skara said eagerly.

“Girl.” Viney pointed to the bed. “Look at that thing. It needs plushies. So many.”

Gus pulled something from his tunic – and kept pulling. “How about a garland of paperclips? They’re great for picking nonmagical locks! I also have a supply of nonmagical locks!”

“What’s a corkboard?” Hunter asked dazedly.

They ended up doing that first, then mounting bookshelves. (“Nerd,” Viney said, which Gus assured him was a compliment.) Skara had brought a detailed map of the Boiling Isles which they hung up next to the corkboard, and he and Skara began discussing Scout movements while Viney covered his bed in stuffed animals. When they got into discussing battle formations, Gus grabbed several history books from downstairs, and Willow commandeered the smaller plushies over Viney’s protests to represent troop movements.

“Most of the fights in the Savage Ages were small scale,” Hunter explained. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surveying the plushie battlefield, the emptied palisman care box in his lap. “They took place between demon factions or around towns protecting valuable resources. Hand to hand combat is still the most commonly used method of fighting. Even Adrien’s team of Scouts mostly worked in twos and threes.”

“Except when they were defending something,” Willow added. “But Gus and I learned about all those abomitons Belos ordered from the Blights – doesn’t that mean we should consider handling large scale attacks?”

“Yes and no,” Skara said through a mouthful of paperclips, hanging a diagram of staff fighting on the corkboard. “If Belos assigned squads of abomitons to individual Scouts, he’ll essentially make each Scout more powerful, not more coordinated as a group.”

Hunter nodded. “Especially since there’s no precedent for a war like this. The only training the Scouts had when I left was how to order the abomitons around.”

“That’s kind of a thing for him, isn’t it?” Gus asked, sitting down next to Hunter. He passed him a handful of torn-up fabric, which Hunter began arranging in the box. “Keeping everybody working alone, I mean. From what Luz said, you were always going on solo missions, and even the coven heads that get Scouts are really nasty to each other. They all want glory, but Belos is the only way they can get it, so they’re falling in line while fighting each other.”

Willow scowled. “Clever, but really sick.”

Flapjack, who had been snuggled next to Lancelot on the dresser, finally noticed what Hunter was doing. It flew over to inspect the nest, tweeting excitedly.

“Aw, it’s so cute!” Willow cooed. “Here – does Flapjack want to add my bow to the nest?”

“That’s a yes,” Hunter said unnecessarily, as Flapjack flew to the bow, whistling even louder. It added the bow to the nest and immediately began hopping around the room, adding a paperclip, then a tiny stuffed boar bear.

Viney finished setting up the plushies. “Maybe we should focus less on fighting and more on damage control. Reversing the effects of the draining spell.”

“That’s reallycomplicated magic,” Skara said doubtfully.

“Couldn’t we just make a healing potion?” Hunter asked. “There are a few powerful ones that replenish vitality and bile sac depletion syndromes. Willow could grow any of the plants we need.”

“Oh, could she?” Viney asked, grinning.

Hunter frowned slightly. “Yes. Except Palistrom wood. Actually, we were talking about her plant experiments last night. If we could study a living specimen long enough, and understand the limits of staff magic, she could probably figure out how to grow that, too.” He finished the nest, stood up, then noticed everyone was looking at him. “What?”

“You know, you figured out illusion-Willow wasn’t the real Willow at Hexside,” Gus said, his grin now as wide as Viney’s. “Seems like someone’s been paying extra attention to our dear Captain.”

“Well, yes.”

“Just ignore them,” Willow said, scowling at Gus.

He blinked. “Why? I was going to do that when we first met, and it was a mistake. Everybody here has genuine talent. I don’t want to make mistakes about people again.”

Viney groaned and threw herself backwards on the bed. “You can’t just do that without warning! I was all ready to tease you!”

“About what?”

Flapjack flew over and started tugging insistently at her hair band.

“Ugh, fine, take my penance.” She pulled the band out. Flapjack tweeted joyfully and zoomed over to add it to his nest.

“Well, if we do make a healing potion,” Willow said, standing up. “We can always use the cauldron. I loaned it to Skara ages ago, but it’s actually my dad’s.”

“I wanted to practice using sound waves to alter a potion’s composition,” Skara explained. “I heard a previous student did that and it sounded cool.”

“We use smaller versions at school,” Willow explained. “See the meter on the side? Just tap the temperature you want and the meter glows red when it gets hot enough. The outside of the metal never gets hot, so we can practice brewing in your room.”

That sounded really useful. If he’d had that in the castle – well, he wouldn’t have, but he could definitely practice potions here. He got up to take a look.

Suddenly Flapjack flew over and pulled a thin black ribbon out of his pocket. “Hey! Flapjack!”

“Aw, let him add it to the nest!” Viney protested.

“Not this one.” Hunter held out his hand. Flapjack gave a longwinded sigh, but dropped it into Hunter’s palm. He passed it to Gus. “Here. It’s for you.”

“Me?” Gus asked, surprised.

“For the monocle. I noticed you didn’t have a good place for it, so – here.”

It wasn’t anything particularly special. He’d used the softest fabric Darius had and just sewed the edges, including the long edges so it wouldn’t fray. It had taken a depressingly long time for something so small.

Gus looked like he’d been handed a whole sack of paperclips.

“Seriously? Hunter, this is so cool! Thank you! How long did this even take?”

“Don’t answer that,” he warned Flapjack, who tweeted innocently.

Gus had already looped the monocle through it and tied it around his neck. “Nice! You got the length perfectly, now I don’t have to worry about keeping my hands free for illusions.”

Viney made a slightly strangled noise. “How were you ever the Golden Guard? You are too cute and pure to have been the Golden Guard!”

“Uh…”

“She means well,” Skara promised. “So, potions? Poison, healing, scrying, all of the above?”

They talked until Perry came to get them for dinner, where he found them in the middle of trying to dissolve the scrying wards around Belos’ chamber. He very politely asked them to refrain, brought them downstairs for dinner, and then in a slightly strangled voice asked Gus to be very careful and avoid an actual rebellion. Hunter pointed out that technically all of them were now part of the rebellion. This did not seem to help.

They decided to switch to healing potions. Then one of Skara’s attempts to change the chemical composition using soundwaves created steam that precisely imitated the light refraction of a crystal ball. Station 211 was running a marathon of My Life as a Teenage Human, and the steam provided a near-perfect screen. Since it was now nearly midnight, Skara suggested they keep strategizing in the morning, and Gus went to get snacks. Hunter was able to follow most of the conversation about it since he’d seen it before. They spent the next two hours debating what the human realm was actually like, and whether hairspray could be considered a lethal weapon, given that it was apparently as strong as cement and incredibly flammable.

“Tressica could totally use it to take down Belos,” Viney said sleepily, jabbing at the steam and missing. “Or, or, she could just use her nails. She’s got like, six inch nails. Just poke him in his mask holes. Stab! Problem solved!”

“Belos would just defeat her with a hangnail,” Gus said, lying flat on his back with his eyes closed. “Those things are instant death. I wonder what a hangnail looks like? Doesn’t it sound like some kind of scythe? Do human nails turn into scythes?”

“It’s just when part of your nail comes off,” Hunter explained. He was lying down next to Gus but in the opposite direction, so their heads were side by side. “If your nail gets caught on something and gets cut, but not all the way through. Belos mentioned it once.”

“See? Even the emperor is afraid of a nail scythe.”

“It’s not a nail scythe, Gus. And witches get them, too.”

Willow yawned. “You’re all missing the point. Tressica’s true power is her home economic skills. She just needs to beat Belos in a sewing competition and wear her winning creation to prom to become queen of the Boiling Isles. He’d probably be easy to beat. I bet he sews the sleeves of his shirt onto the hem, not the shoulders.”

“That feels like a personal attack on my sewing skills.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Skara rolled over and draped an arm over Hunter’s new seal plushie. “Well, I would totally vote for Tressica as prom queen. Not Grom queen, though. I’d feel so bad if Grometheus choked on her fake hair.”

“Which one of us do you think would get voted queen of a human prom?” Gus asked.

“Willow,” Hunter and Viney said immediately.

“Gee, thanks,” Skara said drily. Willow laughed.

“Though for the record,” Viney said quickly, “Emera would definitely –”

Gus threw a pillow at her and she cut off with a muffled yelp.

Hunter yawned. Flapjack landed on his chest and whistled. He stroked its back absently. Skara had started muttering under her breath about needles as weapons of war, and Gus chimed in about something called hat pins. Viney was listening with increasing interest, and Willow had curled up around a giant bird plushie, blinking slowly. Teenage Human was still playing in the background.

He felt warm and sleepy. The heavy griffin blanket was annoyingly comfortable, given that it had come from his sort-of arch nemesis Puddles, and after being in the cauldron it smelled like metal and old books. At some point Skara had cracked the window, which Gus promised wouldn’t compromise the wards, and the soft breeze brought the vanilla smell of zimmertwistle blossoms wafting through the room. It made a kind of hollow ache in his chest. He sighed heavily.

Willow nudged his shoulder. “’M getting sleepy,” she drowsed. “See you in the morning?”

He nodded, carefully, so he wouldn’t disturb Flapjack, now snoring lightly on his chest.

“See you in the morning.”