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“Gray?” Martin asked while crouching in front of me. “What is it?”

“He’s right. There are more.” I swallowed, feeling the ache of saliva slide down my parched throat. “The song is the same, and I can still hear it.”

“And you’re certain it’s not this same piece?” Keir asked.

“Positive. This treasure’s been found. Its song isn’t the same as before.” I’d still recognize it, but the sound was dulled. It wasn’t the best way to describe it, but I couldn’t come up with anything different.

“And yet you hear the same song,” Holland mused. “An interesting ability. Useful as well.”

I shrugged. “It has its moments.” Right now, I hated the idea of tracking this treasure’s companions down. I didn’t like the way their song made me feel.

“What about you, Hikaru?” Keir asked. “Could you help find them?”

Hikaru cocked his head, his mop of fiery red-and-orange hair flopping to the side. “I don’t think so.” Before Keir could question him further, Hikaru threw up his hands and paced. “The whole place is full of magic, Keir, and most of it feels wrong.” Hikaru shivered and I didn’t think he was being melodramatic. “I didn’t notice before, when I was living here. Back then, it felt normal. But I know better now.” He spread his arms, looking around the relatively empty space. “This isn’t how magic is supposed to feel.” Hikaru joined Holland again, wrapping his arms around his warlock. “This is how magic should feel. I could pass by a hundred of those tiny things and never know they were there. It’s been corrupted too far.”

Keir’s shoulders didn’t exactly slump, but he was no longer standing as tall as before. “Can you dismantle it?” Keir tentatively asked.

Hikaru didn’t hesitate. Instead, he vehemently shook his head. “No. Bad idea. Very bad idea.”

“Why?” I asked.

Pointing at the small object, Hikaru said, “I just said that magic is corrupt. Magic can’t be destroyed, not even in that state. If I dismantle the bonds holding it together, then you’ve just released a bunch of questionable shit into the universe. As much as I hate to say it, the best you can do is contain it.” With sad resignation, Hikaru said, “This is nothing like what Danzig and the other warlocks did. They captured magic and it wasn’t happy to be enslaved. This…this has been transformed into something horrid. I don’t know if it can be saved or returned to its original form.”

I think we all deflated hearing that. Collectively we stared at the diseased piece of magic. Finally, Keir asked, “Can you contain it, Holland?”

Nikodemus contemplated the question for a beat before answering. “I believe so, although I would need to study the matter further. Containing a buzzweed is no easy task.”

“Buzzweed?” Martin and I questioned in unison.

Martin went on to ask, “What, exactly, is a buzzweed, and what does it do?”

Holland’s feet shuffled. The reaction looked odd on the otherwise confident warlock. “They are a disturbing piece of crafting, no doubt originally witch- or warlock-made. Both species are capable, though few would do such a thing. Buzzweeds have been anathema for over six centuries. I cannot say if this one is that old or if it was made by a corrupt individual more recently. As to its purpose…” Holland inhaled deeply. “It, in conjunction with its brethren, is used to contain powerful magic—too powerful for one singular object. The magic is distributed into smaller vessels. There will be a larger one somewhere, a core that is capable of calling the others to it. As to the end purpose… That depends on what type of magic has been stored. The very process of breaking such forceful magic into smaller pieces could be the source of the corruption Hikaru feels. I will not know until I study its threads in greater detail.”

The silence descending upon the room was thick with dread. I don’t think I was the only one who found it difficult to breathe.

I blindly reached out, searching for Martin’s steady strength. His hands found mine, and our fingers intertwined. The pressure should have hurt. I think I was too numb to notice. Too numb by far.

Sixteen

Martin

“Come, have some coffee, dear. I’d offer you tea but I’m afraid I gave up long ago. Keir’s is so good I had no hope of matching it.” Tabitha set a steaming cup in front of Gray and me. Gray grabbed his, blew along the top, and then took large gulps. I stared, amazed at how he chugged the hot fluid.

When he set the cup down, Gray looked at me, eyebrows high, the obvious question “what” sitting on his lips. I just shook my head and took a careful sip of my own beverage. The warm mug felt better in my hands than the fluid going down my throat.

“You two have been through a lot recently,” Tabitha kindly said while settling into a high-backed chair opposite us. “Elvira’s been keeping me in the loop.”

“You’ve always been nosey,” Elvira said, her voice manifesting into the room before her ghostly body fully formed.

Tabitha grinned. “That’s putting things in a negative light. I’m merely concerned is all.” Tabitha offered us a wink before taking another sip of her coffee. Setting it on the coffee table between us, Tabitha ignored Elvira’s derisive snort. “I take it Warlock Holland is still with Keir?” Tabitha asked Elvira.

“He is. As is Hikaru. The warlock is attempting to encase the buzzweed so it can safely be transported back to his home in California. He is concerned transporting something of this nature might be detrimental to his one and only.”

Tabitha waved that thought off. “Hikaru is made of tougher stuff than that.”

“I informed the warlock of this,” Elvira proudly stated.

“Good. Thank you.”