Page 58 of Bewitched By the Wicked Witch
"Is it over?" Ashlynn asked weakly, the first words any of the rescued girls had managed since we'd entered the chamber.
I looked around at the scene, the broken binding runes, the freed captives, the defeated conspirators, and felt a complex mixture of triumph and exhaustion.
"Yes," I said simply. "It's over."
Twenty-Six
Sage
The aftermath of magical confrontations never quite matches the dramatic climax you'd expect from the stories. Instead of triumphant music and rolling credits, you get unconscious conspirators who need to be dealt with, traumatized victims requiring immediate medical attention, and the unsettling knowledge that this conspiracy likely extends far beyond what you've uncovered tonight.
"Well," I said, surveying the scene with the detached interest of someone whose day had officially exceeded all reasonable expectations, "this presents some interesting logistical challenges."
Tommy and Cate lay unconscious on the chamber floor, their stolen magic dispersed and their bodies finally succumbing to exhaustion. The four rescued girls were conscious but weak, their magical pathways still struggling to readjust after months of systematic drainage. And somewhere in the tunnels above, I could hear distantvoices that suggested our underground adventures hadn't gone entirely unnoticed.
"The mob," Callum observed grimly. "They're probably still looking for you."
"Let them look," I replied, though privately I was calculating our chances of getting four weakened magical teenagers through hostile territory without attracting unwanted attention. "Right now we have bigger problems."
Cosmo padded over to where Tommy lay sprawled, his starlit eyes gleaming with predatory satisfaction. "Should I bite them?" he asked hopefully. "I haven't had a good opportunity to bite anyone today, and I feel like I'm falling behind my quota."
"Tempting, but no," I said, though I appreciated his enthusiasm. "We need them conscious for questioning, not bleeding out from familiar bites."
But as I knelt beside Tommy to check his vital signs, my fingers accidentally brushed against his exposed wrist, and suddenly I was drowning in visions that definitely weren't my own. Images flooded my mind with violent clarity: Cate Bennett dragging an unconscious Paige through the tunnels, my cousin's delicate features slack, her honey-blond hair matted with blood from where she'd been struck down.
My heart seized in my chest as the vision continued. I saw Cate's face, twisted with the kind of calculated malice I should have recognized years ago, as she flung Paige at Tommy's feet like discarded garbage. This wasn't betrayal, this was a continuation of the venom she'd always harbored, justfinally given free rein.
"What have you done?" I snarled, though the words were directed at the unconscious Cate rather than anyone who could actually answer.
The vision shifted, showing me Tommy's sickening hunger as he'd knelt beside Paige's limp form, his fingers trailing along her pale cheek in a grotesque mockery of tenderness. "Isn't she lovely?" his voice echoed from the memory. "So young, so pure... The perfect vessel for our dark purposes."
I jerked my hand back from Tommy's skin, the connection severing abruptly and leaving me gasping in the present moment. The psychic residue of their intentions made my skin crawl with revulsion.
"Sage?" Callum's voice cut through the red haze of fury that was building behind my eyes. "What did you see?"
"They had Paige," I said, my voice raw with emotions I was trying very hard to keep contained. "She's here somewhere, and they..." I couldn't finish the sentence, but I didn't need to.
Callum's expression darkened with understanding.
We found her in a smaller chamber connected to the main ritual space, unconscious but breathing, her hands bound and a gag around her mouth. My cousin looked disturbingly fragile in the phosphorescent lighting, younger than her seventeen years and utterly defenseless.
"Too long," I muttered, kneeling beside her to check for injuries while carefully removing her restraints. "I should have realized what they were planning."
"You couldn't have known," Callum said softly, but I could hear the guilt in his own voice. We'd both missedthe signs, too focused on the larger conspiracy to see the personal threat developing right under our noses.
Paige stirred slightly as I brushed her hair back from her face, her eyelids fluttering but not quite opening. She was alive and relatively unharmed, but the magical emanations around her suggested she'd been drugged with something designed to suppress her natural abilities.
"She'll be fine," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure if I was trying to convince Callum or myself. "The binding ritual wasn't completed. Whatever they gave her will wear off."
When we returned to the main chamber with Paige safely in Callum's arms, I found myself staring at our unconscious prisoners with a very specific type of irritation. Tommy and Cate represented our only direct connection to the larger conspiracy network, but they also represented eighteen years of accumulated resentment and a recent attempt to murder my family.
"You know what?" I said, making a decision that probably said disturbing things about my psychological state. "I'm done being the reasonable one today."
"Sage," Callum warned, recognizing the particular tone that usually preceded poor decision-making.
"No, seriously. They kidnapped my cousin, tortured innocent teenagers, and tried to kill us all in the name of magical purity." I rolled up my sleeves with the methodical precision of someone about to undertake an unpleasant but necessary task. "And I'm fresh out of patience for extended villain monologues and legal proceedings."
"What are you planning to do?"
