I glance one last time at what I can see of my magical repairs to the dinghy, then at the far side of the river.
Taking a deep breath, I gather my courage and hoist myself into the boat.
Before I can even attempt a spell to get this thing moving toward the far side of the river, the magic circling me now pushes at my back, propelling us across.
I let out a shaky exhale.
Well, that solves that.
It’s only when we’ve reached the center of the river that I have my misgivings.
What in the goddess’s name am I doing? Magic quest or no, I shouldn’t be wandering around in this unfamiliar jungle, letting some mysterious being lure me closer. I don’t even have my notebook, so if I forget my memories from earlier today, I’m F-U-C-K-E-D.
I glance overhead at the afternoon sun.
And if I don’t get back before sundown…
Doubled fucked.
But my intuition isn’t warning me off this trail, and I did find my familiar by listening to it earlier. Technically, this is what a magic quest is—listening to that untamable inner voice that leads all witches.
Nero lunges toward the river, nearly capsizing the boat. Again. I grab the sides of the dinghy for balance while the water near us churns. I hear a crunch, and then the panther is backing up, dragging some writhing thing along with him.
What in the…?
Nero turns toward me, and clamped in his jaws is the biggest motherfucking snake I’ve ever seen, its head and neck hanging lifelessly, even while the rest of its body still spasms.
Ho-ly shit.
“Good boy,” I croak.
He gives me a look like he might eat me next if I treat him like a pet again. He pads back to the middle of the boat and flops down, the huge twitching snake tumbling in along with him.
I grimace.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I feel like we need to go over some boat rules. Rule one—”
Nero sinks his teeth into the creature’s belly.
Going to hurl.
“No eating animals on the boat.”
Ignoring me, the panther continues to chomp on the dead snake.
What am I supposed to do if my familiar doesn’t listen to me? Aren’t familiars supposed to give their undivided loyalty to the witch they’re bonded with?
I take a few deep breaths and decide this is not the hill I want to die on today.
“Fine, ignore boat rules, just don’t get any blood on me—”
I feel something warm and wet hit the back of my hand.
I glare at my familiar—who is still absorbed in his meal. “Don’t make me turn you into a housecat,” I warn him.
He pauses eating to flash me his fangs.
Guess he doesn’t like the idea of that all that much. “Then behave.”
He stares at me for a moment longer, then goes back to eating his nasty snack.
The blue magic pushes us along, and slowly but surely, we cross the river. Overhead, the rest of the magic hangs above us like a contrail, the line of it disappearing into the trees on the approaching side of the riverbank. I swear it looks denser than it did at the crash site.
I can still feel the power pressing against my back, but it’s begun to creep over my shoulders and around my chest, and a strand of it brushes against my jaw, feeling for all the world like the light stroke of knuckles against my skin.
I think it would be better if I found the touch repulsive, but I…don’t, and that leaves me confused.
Eventually, we reach the riverbank. I wait until the dinghy has nearly beached itself on the shore before hopping out with Nero and dragging the boat as far ashore as I can.
Dusting my hands off, I turn to the dark jungle beyond.
Come to me…
I pause. That phantom voice is so much stronger now.
The air around me seems to vibrate. I can feel the magic as though it were alive.
Calling to me. Calling…
I pick my way through the vegetation and the looming lush trees, that insistent pull getting stronger. I stop only when I get to a dense, almost-impassable cluster of foliage.
I’m about to move away from it when I sense…more magic. Only this doesn’t have the same elements as the blue magic above me.
The spell here—and what I’m sensing is a spell, not unspooled magic—is unlike the one pulling me onward. This power is so subtle that I would have missed it if I weren’t looking for magic in the first place.
Now that I am looking right at it, I see the shimmery lines that its spellcasting left behind. Sometimes these can take the shape of writing, but other times, like right now, the spells look like nothing more than glittery string woven together.
This spell, however, is not simply a few magical strings; it’s a whole tapestry. The spells—wards technically—hang in the air like a giant web, one so complex and so intricately wrought that it must’ve taken weeks if not months to create.
I study the layers and layers of protective spells, in awe that someone created this.
The most prominent of these wards are ones that will a person to leave this place. There are still more that form a magical barrier of sorts, one that would be impenetrable to a nonmagical human. Finally, I sense several overlapping enchantments that obscure whatever’s beyond from view. It’s all so hopelessly complicated.
Unfortunately for me, the magic I’ve been following cuts directly across these wards, as though they weren’t there.
My queen…
That voice stirs my blood and prods my back, and if I have any hope of finding its source, I’ll need to get past these spells.
I give the web of them another once-over. After a moment’s hesitation, I reach out with my fingers, unsure how the wards will react. Hexes and curses could be woven into these things, and I really don’t want to walk away from here with some curse that rots me from the inside out.
Help me…
I’m emboldened by that plea. There may be someone on the other side of these spells that’s in true peril. And while I’m in no position to be some knight in shining armor, I am the only one who’s here, so I can at least try to be brave.
I take a steadying breath, then press my hand to the web of spells.
At my touch, the entire cluster of them disintegrates, as though it were no sturdier than an actual web. But even as my hand slips right through, I feel the massive amount of power these spells released, the wave of it slamming into me and causing me to stagger back. The shock wave spreads out into the jungle, dissipating as it goes.
I frown. Spells that strong should’ve put up some sort of fight.
But I only linger on that concern for a moment because now that I’ve removed this section of wards, I can see the area in front of me for what it really is.
Ruins.
I stare at the toppled columns and the smashed remains of hewn arches, the white marble covered in vines and vegetation. The stone itself appears to be inlaid with golden floral patterns, and the ends of the columns morph into what look to be the boughs of trees.
I’m no expert but…I swear this architecture has the touch of the Otherworld to it, the realm where fairies reside. So what is it doing hidden away in South America?
My heart thumps harder.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s some sort of failed resort that was left to molder…
That would make some amount of sense, even if it doesn’t explain the protective wards.