“Put away your chicken, child,” Oma Mala spoke. “We both know it wears you down, and to me he just looks like dinner.”

  The phoenix on her arm screeched in protest, but did not otherwise act.

  ‘Nora, it pains me to say this, but she’s right,’ the dignified voice of Gwyn, her lifelong partner spoke in her mind. ‘We would be no match for her even at full strength, let alone now.’

  Nora bit back a retort. No one talked about her family’s guardian beast like that, but she recognized true power when she saw it. A quick, silent, Affinity Reading showed an orange-red aura around Oma Mala, weaker than expected but still overwhelmingly strong. It confirmed a theory of hers: Whatever method the crone used to enter her house unimpeded like this, it left her weaker than she normally would be.

  A figure as legendary as Oma Mala should have shown a deep crimson aura to a mere mortal like her. The one in front of her now, though, had a bit less than twice of Nora’s Spheres. But with how difficult higher Spheres were to attain, that still meant it would take Nora another century or two of growth to match her in raw ability. And it would take longer than that to overcome Oma Mala’s knowledge of the arcane, including whatever taboo magic the witch had learned over the centuries.

  “Are you here to kill me?” Nora asked. She doubted it, but if the hag was here to kill her, she’d at least die fighting.

  “Pah! Kill her, she says!” Oma Mala spoke. “Girl, if I wanted you dead, you and I wouldn’t be talking. Besides, your death right now wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.”

  Nora’s brow furrowed. What the blazes was that supposed to mean? Still, it was enough to know she wouldn’t immediately be killed. “Thank you, Gwyn. Let’s both get some rest.”

  The phoenix nodded its head and disappeared with a flash of light, retreating into her Amulet as quickly as it had materialized. “May I sit?”

  “Of course. It’s your house,” the crone answered while she continued to occupy Nora’s chair.

  Nora nodded, taking the seat Aiela had been sitting in. “So, to what do I owe this visit?”

  “Why the hostility, child?” Oma Mala asked.

  “You disabled my maid.”

  “She’s just taking a nap,” Oma Mala said. “You even checked. I’m just here for a little chat… Just between us.”

  Despite her brave face, Nora’s heart raced in her chest. This woman could end her and all of House Greyfield with a spell or two, leaving nothing but ash and ruin in her wake. She needed to calm down. When faced with such danger, cool heads prevailed.

  “Then let’s chat,” Nora said, managing to keep the quiver out of her voice. “I’d offer you tea, but-” Nora gestured towards the sleeping Cassie.

  “Let your girl rest,” Oma said. “Your tea tastes like shit anyway.”

  “Speaking of girls, your granddaughter did the funniest thing earlier,” Nora said. The words came out before Nora had really thought about them.

  “Oh?”

  “You didn’t catch our conversation?” Nora asked.

  “I’m a busy woman,” Oma Mala said. “And Aiela would have felt my presence. As I’m sure she does now.”

  “She lectured me on how I was raising my daughter,” Nora said, somehow managing to smile. “Can you believe that?”

  “Just like your daughter mouthed off to me six years ago?” Oma Mala spoke, chuckling to herself. “The nerve of these children.”

  “Aiela’s grown really well,” Nora said. “Probably the strongest Mage of her age.”

  A disapproving sound came from Oma Mala. “No. Not yet. The girl is still green.”

  Nora quirked an eyebrow at that. Aiela’s power was monstrous. Was there truly someone else out there her age who was stronger? Did Oma Mala just keep an eye on every promising young mage in the continent? Then again, if she did, Nora wouldn’t be surprised. It’s what she would do, if she was in Oma Mala’s position.

  “So,” Nora said. “What am I not doing? I thought you healed me because I promised to take care of her like my own.”

  “A low bar,” Oma Mala said. “Given how you treat your actual daughter. I suppose it’s not surprising you take better care of Aiela.”

  “What do you mean?” Nora asked, though in the pit of her stomach, she already knew the answer.

  “My girl is everything you wanted in a child, isn’t she?” Oma Mala said, spelling it out for her. “Magically talented, even more devious than you. And just like you and me, she knows the importance of holding power.”

  Nora winced at the remark, but answered, “It’s true. I’ve come to see her as one of my own. Is that why? Because it’s no longer something I’m doing because you told me to?”

  “Perish the thought,” Oma Mala said. “I may be a trickster in my spare time, but I wouldn’t punish you just because you’ve found a better reason to take care of her. She’s here because of me, after all.”

  “Then why?” Nora asked. “I thought I was getting better, but now-”

  She glanced at the spot on her desk where she’d coughed out the blue substance. True to Aiela’s word, it looked like nothing had ever happened.

  “Because you’re only doing half of your task.”

  “My task?” Nora asked. She had no idea what the hag meant. Oma Mala’s arrival six years past had been like a whirlwind – a strong memory, though fine details were hard to make out.

  “Which is why I’ve come to jog your memory,” Oma Mala said.

  Nora waited for Oma Mala to continue, but the witch seemed content to make Nora ask for it. There were few people in her life who could make Nora feel like she was on the back foot. Even speaking to the Imperial Family with a front of reverence didn’t throw her off the way Oma Mala did.

  “What did I forget?” Nora asked.

  “I told you to raise Aiela alongside Venza.”

  “Is that not what I’ve done?” Nora asked.

  “You raised Aiela,” Oma Mala said. “But not Venza. Venza was raised by Adam Vosmer.”

  Nora’s next words were quick. “Venza can’t seem to cast magic.”

  “And? What does that have to do with raising her?”

  “I can’t teach her what I know if she can’t do it,” Nora said. Though even as she said the words, they felt hollow.

  “I didn’t tell you to bring her up as a mage.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” Nora asked. “She’s not like me.”

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  “And here I thought you were the smart one,” Oma Mala said flatly. “You were supposed to make her bloom from that promising little seed I met six years ago. Did you know? That girl of yours stood in my Frightful Presence and her knees didn’t buckle. Her will didn’t shatter.”

  Nora’s eyes widened in surprise. Aiela had mentioned Venza had an above average resistance to magic that affected the mind, but she didn’t think it was that high.

  “If I wasn’t supposed to raise her as a mage, then what? You want me to support Venza’s mad plan to become like her father?” Nora asked. “Why? What could you possibly get out of it?”

  “I get what I want,” Oma Mala said simply. “That’s what matters to you. However, I understand you might not take me at my word.”

  “Forgive me, but I think any mother would be alarmed if the most powerful witch in the world said she had an interest in my daughter,” Nora answered.

  “Again, such hostility,” Oma Mala said. “When I come bearing gifts!”

  “Gifts?” Nora echoed.

  “Yes, child, gifts!” Oma said. “The first I’ll even give you right now, no strings attached.”

  Nora didn’t say anything, unsure of what the old crone was trying to say.

  “The gift of foresight,” Oma Mala continued. “Listen well, dear: If Venza does not go on her next adventure, House Greyfield will fall into ruin. You, your husband, and everyone else will be destroyed. Not today, not tomorrow, but in the time to come.”

  “Is that a threat?” Nora asked.

  “A promise,” Oma Mala said. “But why assume I mean me?”

  Nora’s fists clenched at the sides of her chair. “Do you mean- Is it the same people?”

  Oma Mala shrugged. “Yes, and no.”

  “And if Venza goes on this adventure, she’ll be safe?” Nora asked.

  “That’s up to her,” Oma Mala said nonchalantly. “I see only possibilities, but I can assure you that if she does not go, you lot are doomed.”

  “Does this prophecy come with details?”

  “This is no prophecy and there are no details,” Oma Mala said. “Fate is not something written in stone, destined to pass. Just let it be enough to know I need your daughter fit as a fiddle and sharpened like a blade. She will only rust if she remains trapped here. She must go.”

  “Really? Not even where this adventure is or why she’s going on it?” Nora asked. “What about Lucius’ plan, then?”

  “Your husband’s plan is shit,” Oma Mala said. “I’d tell you to stop him, but you’ve already tried.”

  “How do you know?” Nora asked. As far as she knew, only she, Lucius and Vosmer were privy to the details.

  “Like I said, dear,” Oma Mala answered. “I only see possibilities. None of the good ones come from your husband’s scheme. In your bones, you know this, too. After all, is that not the real reason you listened to Aiela?”

  Nora didn’t give an immediate answer. In truth, even if Oma Mala hadn’t arrived, Nora had already come to that conclusion.

  “But you came anyway,” Nora said. Whatever it was she needed from Venza, it was clearly important.

  “Bearing gifts,” Oma Mala repeated. “I have three more. For the next one, I will give you a reprieve.”

  “You mean-”

  “Yes, child,” Oma Mala said, teeth twinkling in the moonlight. “I can postpone your death. But for how long? Shall we say, three years?”

  “What’s the catch?” Nora asked.

  “Nothing,” Oma Mala answered. “I simply trust that you will know what to do when the time comes.”

  “If this is true, then I owe you my thanks,” Nora said.

  For the first time since their conversation began, the witch moved. Two pale, claw-like hands reached up from behind the desk and placed a bottle each atop it. They were tiny, simple things made of glass, each small enough to fit in Nora’s hand.

  “And now, the other two,” Oma Mala said.

  A long-nailed finger rested on the first bottle. “This red bottle will give you, for one day and one day only, the ability to be yourself again. The Eternal Pyre, greatest Fire Mage of Odolenia. For a full day, you can wield the powers you used to wield without fear of Mana Sickness. But when the day is done, you go out. One final flame before the candle is snuffed completely.”

  Nora swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. Unlimited power for one day? Even if it meant death after, the number of things she could accomplish in twenty four hours made her mind race.

  “And the other bottle?” Nora asked, eyeing the blue bottle.

  “The opposite,” Oma Mala said. “You drink from the blue bottle and you cease to be the Eternal Pyre altogether. You will live, but your fire, your pet bird, gone. Blow out the candle before it burns all the wick.”

  Nora’s eyes slowly wandered form one bottle to the other. One bottle held her strength. The power to be who she was again, to soar through the sky on Gwyn’s back and radiate like the light of the sun.

  But the other bottle? The other bottle meant she could live and watch Venza and Aiela grow. At least until they no longer needed to be protected.

  “Blue,” she said, though it killed her to say so. “I choose blue.”

  Oma Mala watched her silently.

  “After all, what difference does it make?” Nora asked, her expression somber.” I can barely use magic now anyway. Better to just get rid of it and still be useful somehow.”

  A shrill, piercing cackle emanated from the crone.

  “Ah, child,” Oma Mala said after her fit of laughter. “I think you’ve misunderstood.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “There is no choice to make,” Oma Mala said. “You are getting both. As I said, four gifts. Do you understand? There is no going back for you. But I must admit, I am surprised you didn’t pick the red one.”

  “Are you really?” Nora asked. “Because I feel like you wouldn’t have taken the red one, either.”

  Because thinking about it, why was the most powerful human mage in the world content with being on the fringes of society? Oma Mala had the power to bring nations to their knees. Why content herself with shadowy schemes like this? Why not use the power she had to seize lands and subjects?

  “Pah,” Oma Mala spat. Then, as if she’d heard everything Nora was thinking, she said, “I am merely biding my time. I only have one chance, and there are still pieces I need that aren’t on the table.”

  Nora quirked an eyebrow at that. This all-powerful witch showing caution? What was she trying to rope Venza and Aiela into?

  The lights suddenly came back on, momentarily blinding Nora whose eyes had adjusted to the darkness. When she opened her eyes again, the specter of Oma Mala had gone, leaving only the two bottles as proof she’d ever been there at all.

  “Do not fail your daughter again, Nora Greyfield,” the crone’s voice echoed as if all around her. “There will not be a second time.”

  And then she was gone.

  “Lady Nora?” Cassie’s voice called from behind her. “I must have dozed off. My apologies.”

  “No worries, Cassie,” Nora answered. “I think we’re both tired and could use some rest.”

  As Nora lay in her bed, she couldn’t sleep. The meeting with Oma Mala kept her up despite her exhaustion. What could the witch possibly want with Venza? Was Nora truly ready to let her daughter go into the world, knowing that the witch was scheming something?

  Then again, she thought, as she looked down the front of her body. There had been angry, blue veins spreading out from her chest just that morning. Concealing them every day from curious eyes had been most troublesome. True to her word, Oma Mala had halted her illness once more. What had looked like bright, glowing blue roots now receded to smaller, duller marks she knew would fade with time. Three years. She glanced at the bottles, safely stored in a locked shelf.

  As she finally drifted off to sleep, she thought that perhaps having such a powerful being, no matter how vilified, watching over Venza would be the best protection her daughter could possibly have.