Page 79 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

Agatha’s Heart had rooted itself deep inside Ian’s desires, and he craved destruction—and while Bez might’ve hated the hold Ian had over him through Diabolic essence, I doubted the slaughter of so many at the Regiment Headquarters broke his spirits. He’d be fine. It could all be salvaged, too. I could stop Ian. Stop the Collective. The damage brought onto the city could be repaired. Order restored. First, I had to remove my mother.

She fought against my grip as we whipped through the shadowed webs constructed by Mora. Unlike me, her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the infinite stretches of darkness in this dimensional void meant for instant transportation. Thankfully, Mora had offered me access—at a hell of a price, too. I’d gladly offer more for this opportunity.

I held my mother by her shoulders, struggling to navigate through this rollercoaster of hazy shadows. The dimensional threads in this void tingled, reaching out like pin prickles meant to guide my body. That made it difficult to navigate, as my body reacted faster than my mind could comprehend a single action.

We must’ve looped through the length of the city three times over before I recognized the fuzzy glints of light. Unlike a Diabolic, I couldn’t shift direction as quickly or properly register everything around. Would’ve been simpler had Mora joined. She made it very clear this access was temporary, and since I’d planned on dragging other mages into her shadowy sanctum, she’d be tearing the entirety of it down soon to avoid the ire of whatever remnants of the Collective remained.

With any luck, everything would be intact. It all fell to a half-cocked plan I had absolutely no business following. If Alistair were here, he could do it. If I weren’t facing someone as talented as Ian, maybe I could. If everything didn’t fall to luck, timing, and a whole lot of fucking serendipitous chance, this might work out with Bez and I keeping our heads.

Burying my doubts, I anxiously circled through another layer of webs. Reaching high into the night sky, edging to the furthest point of this void, I pivoted, nearly scraping my back on the sharp shadows’ stitching. My gut sank faster than we dropped. Looping between buildings, crossing streets, and barreling through people and cars as nothing more than dusty figments, I finally saw something I recognized.

“There,” I shouted.

I pressed my heels firmly against the ground. If someone could call it that. It was slimy and sticky, gripping at the bottom of my shoes to hold us in place. Like everything in this void, it was black. However, the threads of this web had a brighter sheen compared to the overall shadows of this world. Then again, the brief snippets of the city, while mostly shadowy silhouettes, did hold a grayish hue from the lights. Not that I could make much of it out. Bez’s memories of Hell held more detail than this place.

Spinning around a familiar neighborhood four times, I thought I’d puke from the disorienting swirling at rocket speed if I did a fifth lap.

Squeezing my mother tightly, I leapt from the shadows and into the street. She tumbled on top of me, rolling a few times before breaking loose from my grip.

“Get your hands off me!” She stood, brushed away gravel clinging to her ripped jacket, and already half-composed herself in the time it took me to exhale. Her sour expression was darkened by the bright overhead streetlight behind her.

While I didn’t like my mother and had found her to be the root of most of my problems and insecurities, I couldn’t let her die. She was awful most of the time. Vile, really. But she wasn’t evil. Plus, I wouldn’t carry the guilt of allowing Bez or Ian to kill her when I had a plan. Something like that would eat away at me for the rest of my life, which I intended on being very long. Of course, it required me to find a way to save Bez from Ian, stop Ian from destroying the city, and avoid the Collective’s wrath. No easy feats for my night.

“Where have you taken me?” She raised a hand, already saturating the area in search of nearby dimensional portals to bring her back to the Regiment Headquarters.

I’d dropped her off halfway across the city. It was the best way to ensure she didn’t interfere with what came next. Honestly, I had to snatch up every chancellor during Bez’s assault and throw them at the furthest corners of Seattle. Bez was too formidable for them. Or he wasn’t. I didn’t want to find out.

“You’re wasting your time,” I said.

Thanks to the skeleton key incantation I’d gotten from the grimoire Ian took, I was able to shut down the dimensional portals at the Regiment Headquarters, which meant none of the chancellors would be able to make a quick return. Besides, they’d already accused me of hacking the portal doorways, so I might as well live up to my crimes.

“What have you done? I cannot believe you’ve given your devil to that hedonistic heretic.” She weaved incantations in the air, materializing a broom from dust and dirt in the area.

A flawless transmutation. Swept from the heat of battle, carried through a dimensional void, and thrown into unfamiliar territory. None of it made a difference. Mother rarely missed a beat. Hell, she even managed to toss in a jab blaming me. Guess it beat being scolded for my incompetence.

“To be clear, I didn’t give Bez to Ian. He’s not property.”

“You nicknamed the Diabolic?” She shook her head, disgust in her scowl. “And you allowed it to be taken?”

There it was. I’d let her berate me for hours if it kept her here and away from the Regiment Headquarters, but I didn’t have the time to be reprimanded for my shortcomings and reminded of my failures.

“I’m leaving.” I backstepped. “Al’s six blocks that way. Injured and in serious need of help.”

“Alistair? Liar.”

I didn’t reply, instead focusing on calling out to Mora’s essence in the temporal fold.

Alistair was gravely injured. Ian might’ve had to flee, but only after he stabbed Al in the stomach. His entire squad was half-dead when I found them, thanks to Mora’s shadow webs. He shouldn’t have been my first stop, but there was no way I’d stop all the bloodshed tonight, the carnage, the death. At the very least, I’d make sure Al wasn’t among the casualties.

“You can follow me back to the Regiment Headquarters, or you can check on Alistair.”

My sullen expression did the trick, ensuring my mother prioritized his wellbeing instead of the Collective or her position or...

She turned on her heel and flew in Al’s direction.

Threads from the dimensional void instinctively reached out. A tingling sensation trailed down my spine, lightly coiling around my limbs. I trembled at the goosebumps. Here, the Diabolic essence held no tangible form, yet I felt it engulfing my entire body.

I’d already collected the other four chancellors, infiltration, artificer, archivist, and panacea. Driscoll was dead, and now Chancellor Alden was on her way to Al instead of directing sentinels. Hopefully, she’d stay put even when she realized I’d already brought Sarai to Al. Chancellor Russo’s healing was the best help I could offer my brother and his squad. Besides, everyone at the headquarters had either died or fled at that point.

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