Page 9 of Obsidian Prince

Liliana pressed her lips together in anger. That was an ugly spell. And William Eliot wasn’t just using it to get information on Pete’s sword like Alexander asked him to. He was using it to dig up any dirt he could on Alexander himself.

I hope Pete gets the locket away from Sergeant Giovanni soon.

A vision flashed into life with the vividness of current time. Right this moment, Pete held up a frosty cup to a moon-eyed Giovanni at her desk. The locket was prominently displayed on its short chain, even though visible jewelry wasn’t acceptable for an MP in uniform.

“It’s not candy, but this milkshake is deliciously rich chocolate.” He had two cups with lids and paper straws. Pete took a long draw from one straw, expression blissful. “You know you want it.”

Sergeant Giovanni eyed the cup greedily. “Yeah, yeah, you know my chocolate weakness. Now, shut up and hand over the cup.”

Pete held out the cup. “Here, now we’re square.”

“It’s no big deal. I told you. I’m sure William will buy me many more—ah, ah! That’s cold!”

The lid popped off the cup just as Pete held it toward Giovanni, spilling sludgy brown icy mess on the front of her uniform.

“Zoe! Oh, no, I got it on your new locket, too. Here, let me clean it off. You run some water on your uniform before it stains.” Pete ducked behind Giovanni. He unhooked the locket before she could protest.

“But, I … I promised I’d never take it off.”

“Not a problem. You didn’t take it off. I did.” Pete ran down the hall to the nearest bathroom while Giovanni still seemed to be considering if that counted. He dumped the necklace in the sink like he thought it might bite him and turned the water on full blast.

He opened the locket under the water as Liliana had advised him to, rinsing out a bit of crusty brown inside, probably the wizard’s dried blood, odd bits of hair, and a tiny color pic of his face. Pete left the water on for a few minutes washing every trace of anything but metal away.

Liliana checked on Sergeant Giovanni.

For a moment, the military police sergeant looked lost, wandering after Pete, one arm raised as if to stop him or call him back. Then she stopped, blinking as if just waking up. She looked down at the mess of chocolate ice cream on her shirt, and ran back into her office.

She dug out a spare uniform blouse from a bottom desk drawer before running to another bathroom, unbuttoning as she went.

By the time Pete satisfied himself that the locket was clean and emerged from one bathroom, Giovanni had long since come out of the other one wearing a clean, dry uniform blouse. She held the rinsed blouse in her other hand.

When Pete emerged, she held out a hand imperiously, her foot tapping. “Give.”

Pete placed the locket back in her hand. “Um, you can have my milkshake?” he offered, sheepishly.

“Oh, that’s not going to cut it, buddy. You owe me big time for that mess.” She hooked the chain around her own neck while she spoke, the locket settling back in place. She tucked it under her uniform blouse. “When I get off duty, you owe me pie.”

Pete grinned. “Pie it is. Never let it be said I don’t pay my debts.”

She punched him in the shoulder playfully. “Jerk. I have no idea if this stain will come out.”

Liliana let out a sigh of relief. She stirred honey in her now perfectly brewed tea. Sergeant Giovanni was out of danger. Again.

The spider seer sat back and looked around her garden, enjoying the faint scent of rosemary from the bushes by her back sidewalk. A neighbor child bounced a basketball in their driveway. Liliana loved her little house in her quiet neighborhood. Having fought to keep it made home feel all the more precious.

I wonder how this will affect William Eliot’s plans?

Her fourth vision shaded into a slight touch of the overbright future, probably later today. Pete and Giovanni shared dinner at a dining facility on base, laughing. Pete, with great ceremony presented her with a huge slice of chocolate cream pie with plenty of whipped cream on top. “Apology pie.”

She dipped a spoon in with delight. “Apology pie is pretty good. Not as good as fancy chocolates, but it’ll do.”

Pete reached for a fry on her plate. She smacked his knuckles with the spoon she’d used on her cream pie. “My food. Eat your own fries.”

Pete chuckled, licking whipped cream off his knuckles.

Sergeant Giovanni kept looking down at her wrist as multiple text message notifications flashed on her wrist phone. Her expression twisted in annoyance.

“Eliot?” Pete asked.

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