A drowning sun shot scarlet rays onto the roofs of iron-reinforced buildings in Malten’s castle district. Unlike the rest of the city, no dying refugees sat against their walls, begging for food or money. As if it were a separate, more prosperous land, people wearing fur-trimmed cloaks and bright dresses strolled down tidy streets, discussing everything from trade to courtly matters in hushed tones. Their relaxed mannerisms showed no concern for the kingdom’s growing discord.

How long would their lives remain peaceful?

Even the wealthy displayed purple skin—the plague’s most condemning symptom. Several mansions and extravagant stores had their doors crossed off with black X’s, indicating that the tenants weren’t long for this world. Luckily, Dimitry’s and Angelika’s destination wasn’t amongst them.

The red-robed girl pushed the store’s door open, revealing an unmanned sales floor with all manner of magical products ripe for stealing on shelves. She palmed her forehead and groaned.

“Where is everyone?” Dimitry asked.

Angelika walked inside and beckoned him forward. “They’re probably having supper upstairs, but mom forgot to lock the door. Again!”

“Sounds like being an enchantress’s daughter is a real handful.”

“You have no idea.” She slammed the door behind him and rammed its bolt lock into an iron clasp in the wall. “This kind of stuff happens all the time when Leona isn’t home.”

“Who is it?” a cheerful woman’s voice called out from the floor above.

Angelika threw off her hood, freeing her red-brown curls to droop down to her waist. “It’s me, and I’ve brought a guest!”

“You’re just in time, sweetie! The food’s almost ready!”

“Got it!” She turned to face Dimitry with apologetic eyes. “I know we’re busy, but we should stay for dinner.”

“While I’m sure your mother makes delicious food,” he said, “thugs were mean-mugging us all the way to the castle district, my patients are dying, and if I don’t quickly earn the support of the queen, so will I. We need these enchantments made now.”

“You think I don’t know?” Angelika hissed. “My mom’s dying too! But look at yourself! You’ve been working all fucking day without eating even a god damn fucking pasty. Shit, do you even rest? If you pass the fuck out and succumb to the plague, we’re all dead. Dead.”

She had a point. Overwork led to medical negligence, and for someone who prescribed rest to his plagued patients and not himself, Dimitry was being a hypocrite. Not to mention he was dragging Angelika around without giving the girl a chance to relax. “Since you’re so worried about me, I guess I have no choice but to take a short break.”

“I’m not worried about you.” Angelika turned away, her winter-bitten cheeks reddening further. “It’s just that mom won’t do or tell us anything until she gets to feed us.”

The sight of a girl who agreed to murder a man for Dimitry but blushed at a toothless tease gave him pause.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She pointed to a room beyond the store’s counter where the edge of a staircase peeked out from behind a wall.

After navigating through the small store and climbing up its creaky steps, Dimitry entered a second-floor parlor reeking of mint. In the center were two people sitting at a rectangular table.

One was a familiar old man in a red robe. Ignacius looked up, pulled back a bit, and gave Dimitry a slight nod.

Next to him was a girl with messy brown hair, her attention focused on a wooden block with engraved pale blue lines held in her palm. She glanced at Dimitry, but when he gave her a polite smile, she quickly diverted her gaze.

Angelika followed Dimitry up the stairs. “Hey mom, how are you feel—” Her words came to a halt when she saw Ignacius. “I see the traitorous asshole is here, too.”

His expression heavy, the old man avoided her glare. He poured additional feracide onto a heap of charred orange powder inside his pipe’s bowl.

Raina walked in with a giant plate carrying a grilled, four-winged bird whose savory umami scent mixed with that of remnant minty smoke. “He’s your grandfather. Show some respect.” She placed the aerfowl onto the table and turned to face Dimitry. “Sorry about the commotion. Please take a seat and join us for supper.”

Full of pity for the woman whose skin was now a darker shade of purple than last time, he didn’t dare refuse her offer. “Thank you for having me.”

“Whatever.” Angelika crossed her arms across her chest. “Can I help?”

“Give me a hand in the kitchen.” Raina walked into an adjacent room with her daughter in tow.

Dimitry pulled out a chair, whose iron feet ground against the stone floor.

The girl with messy brown hair glanced up at him once more, but when Dimitry met her gaze, she reached for a metallic pen-like object dangling off of the necklace around her neck and continued to engrave the wooden block in her hand.

He smiled courteously. “I’m Dimitry. Nice to meet you.”

“Hey,” she said without looking up.

Ignacius gave a reserved chuckle. “That’s Emilia. She’s not much of a talker.”

“I don’t mind the change of pace.” Dimitry sat down. “Lately, I’ve been surrounded by people who talk nonstop.”

“Angelika does have quite a mouth on her. Though, in my case, it’s well-warranted.” The old man sighed. “Is Saph—the young lady not with you today, my boy?”

The urge to ask Ignacius if his past had anything to do with Saphiria’s enslavement or her missing father arose within Dimitry. His query, however, wasn’t fueled by suspicion. While the old man might have performed questionable deeds in his past, he proved his independence from the Church aboard the Dirty Matilda and in Coldust. It was curiosity that impelled Dimitry to ask. But with others around, now wasn’t the time. “No. Saphiria has her hands full with other things.”

“After what we did to her, I’d imagine she would.” Eyes clouded over, Ignacius fiddled with his horn pipe, undoubtedly wrestling with the demons of his past. Perhaps the ones from his days working for the Church. It was a while before he spoke again. “Still, it’s good to see you again. Just this morning, I was telling Raina about your strange magic. Is that why you’re here?”

Emilia stopped carving her wooden block but didn’t look away from it.

“It’s related. I wanted to see if I could get a special enchantment made.”

Ignacius leaned closer and ran a hand through his white beard. “You’re not thinking about making a violet-colored illumina one, are you?”

“No.” Dimitry pulled the chair he sat on closer to the table. “This time, it’s a modified version of preservia.”

“What for?”

“To keep it simple, if everything goes well, I should be able to cure the plague with it.”

The old man’s mouth dropped open. He brought the pipe to his wrinkled lips and exhaled a thick and persistent cloud of minty white smoke that filled the entire room. “If it works, can you do me a favor?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“I need you to help Raina.” Ignacius pressed a finger into his pipe’s bowl, causing it to release a dying hiss as the fire burnt out. “My girl started getting nosebleeds. She puts on a brave face and acts merry, but I know she’s scared.”

“Angelika already asked.” Dimitry leaned back in his chair. “From the start, I never intended to let a single mother of three lose her life to something I can prevent. You have my word.”

Emilia shot Dimitry a glance. Before he could confirm whether she wore an expression of gratitude, surprise, or irreverence, she looked away.

“You’re a good kid.”

Was it a line someone who intended to commit murder later that night deserved to hear? Dimitry gave Ignacius a crooked smile. “Not always.”

The grilled corpse of a half-eaten four-winged bird lay on the center of a dining room table. Five people ate their fill and sat in prolonged silence. Unlike most family meals where the participants shared their thoughts and feelings with words, this one did so with gestures.

Angelika slammed her spoon into a bowl of pottage and shot the occasional glare at Ignacius, who avoided eye contact with the furious young lady. Emilia continued to carve the wooden block in her hand with the pen-like engraving tool dangling from her neck. Raina, perhaps to mend the awkwardness, asked questions.

“Sweetie, how has work been? Have you been feeling well?”

“Me? I’ve been fine.” Angelika looked at her mother with somber, orange eyes. “You obviously haven’t.”

The woman with purpling skin laughed as if to cover up her impending doom with false jollity. She glanced at Dimitry. “I hope Angelika has lived up to your expectations.”

“I couldn’t ask for a better guard. She’s been a great help.”

“Really?” The bubbly woman beamed a smile so joyful that it might have been the fuel for everything positive in the universe. “That’s great!”

After another silence, Ignacius pushed his plate away. “Remember I told you about the strange magic I saw on the way here?”

Raina shook her head. “That silly story again?”

The old man reached into his red robe for a pure vol pellet, which gleamed under the light of an illumina-enchanted ceiling. He dragged it across a table filled with dirty dishes. “My boy, would you show them?”

“Here?” Dimitry asked. “Wouldn’t it just be a bother?”

“Trust me. No one in this household will ever think magic is a bother.” Ignacius nudged Raina’s shoulder and grinned. “Wait until you see this.”

Feeling like a circus performer, Dimitry picked up the lustrous metal sphere. What would entertain the Vogels the most? Perhaps a display that was showy but not wholly inconvenient to clean up. He gripped the pellet with one hand and placed his other onto the table’s edge. “Invisall.”

The wooden table they ate from vanished from sight, leaving only floating cups, dishes, and a crispy avian floating in mid-air.

Angelika jumped up. “What the fuck?!”

“Language!” Raina leaned over to furiously pat the top of an unseen table. She looked more like an astonished caveman discovering fire than a hospitable mother.

Emilia dropped her engraved block which crashed into an invisible object with a loud thunk. She prodded forth with a slender finger to confirm that the dining room furniture didn’t disappear from existence.

Dimitry used the commotion as a chance to sneak a yellow, pea-like snack under his hood to appease a faerie whose stomach grumbled throughout the meal.

“Salted samul?” Precious mumbled. “Disgusting.” She munched on it anyway.

Angelika rammed her boot into the table’s support. “It’s all still here!” She looked at Dimitry with eager eyes. “Can you use it on people? Can heathens see you when you vanish? Can you teach me?”

Raina intervened before Dimitry could respond to her beloved daughter’s requests. “Have you ever enchanted an object with invisall? Do you want to try? I’ll pay for it!”

Ignacius interrupted their barrage of questions with a violent coughing fit resulting from laughing too hard. It was a while before he caught his breath. “I knew they’d like it.”

“I hate to stop the fun,” Dimitry said, “but I came here for a reason today. It’s related to my ‘strange magic’.”

“Uh-huh.” Raina approached, her fingers tapping against her apron as if in anticipation.

“I wanted to try enchantment channeling. Angelika told me you would be able to help.”

“I’d be delighted to.” The woman clapped. “Girls, clean the table! Dad, can you bring the vol?”

In Dimitry’s thirty-four years of existence, he never saw a room become tidy as fast as he just did. The entire family put aside their differences to work as a cohesive unit for the sole purpose of seeing magic.

On the surface of a clean tablecloth covering a still invisible dining room table lay a pile of vol pellets and a flattened rag the size of a hand towel. Raina squirmed on a nearby chair. Emilia, Angelika, and Ignacius watched on with unbridled curiosity.

“This is your first time channeling magic, correct?” Raina asked.

“Yes,” Dimitry said. “I’m not sure what to do.”

She flashed him a reassuring smile. “It’s not much different from using the spell the same way you always do. Just chant it and envision its effects while channeling vol from one palm to the other. I’ll take care of the rest, okay?”

Ignacius stood against the wall, rolling a vol pellet between two fingers. “I don’t know if it’ll be that simple. The boy’s magic differs from ours.”

“I know it’s unique,” Raina said, “but it’s not the first time I’ve channeled an enchantment I couldn’t cast.”

Angelika stepped forward. “The Church boot-licker isn’t lying, mom. Dimitry’s illumina is violet-colored. I’ve seen him use it before.”

Raina tidied the stack of pellets. “Is that really true?”

“I can do a few other colors, too,” Dimitry said. “Not that it really makes much of a difference.”

The bubbly woman looked up. “Can you show us sometime?”

Stood against the wall with green seeds in hand, Emilia stopped nibbling to shoot Dimitry a wanting glare.

Apparently, the whole family was eager to see Dimitry’s magic. It wasn’t in him to disappoint them. “Sure. When my schedule frees up.”

Raina beamed a wide smile. “I know your time is valuable, so let’s get started.” She reached a hand to her back to untie a string on her dress, exposing her upper spine. “Place your palms on my higher cores.”

Dimitry furrowed his brow at the strange request. He shot a glance at Angelika and Ignacius, who both looked on nonchalantly. “Where exactly am I doing that?”

“Just below my shoulder blades.”

“So, just put my hands there?”

Raina displayed a wicked grin. “You’re a man, don’t be shy.”

Angelika exhaled a deep, weary breath. “Mom, please don’t say it like that.”

The bubbly woman giggled.

“R-right.” Dimitry approached her from behind and placed his palms on her back. “By the way, can you cast spells from higher cores?”

“You can, my boy, but they’re hard to control. Most mages only use the ones in their palms and soles.” The old man chuckled. “There were certainly times I’ve kept vol hidden in my shoes to cast a sneaky spell.”

Dimitry recalled Ignacius casting magic through his feet when they were escaping the Church in Coldust. A useful tactic. When his situation became less tumultuous, he would dissect a corpse to map out every circuit and core precisely. Perhaps possibilities he never imagined existed.

“I’ll start absorbing vol in a moment,” Raina said. “When you feel it gathering under my right shoulder blade, I want you to absorb it through your hand like you would any pellet and send it across your body and into the opposite core. Except you want to channel through your palm, not concentrate it. Okay?”

“Got it.”

She placed a purple-tinted hand over a stack of dark green pellets, which began to shrink.

A warm sensation accumulated beneath Dimitry’s right hand. When he absorbed the energy, flowing continuously through his palm, it didn’t irritate his circuits the same way a normal spell did. Was Raina taking on the discomfort in his place, or was enchanting different from casting?

The energy overflowed, giving his arm a vague sensation of fullness. Now wasn’t the time to theorize.

Catching his derailing train of thought, Dimitry focused on sending the warmth across his body while thinking of adding heat to circular bacterial DNA, degrading it. “Preservia.”

Vol didn’t stop flowing from Raina’s back.

Dimitry channeled every bit from her right higher core to her left, all while struggling to uphold the imagery of degrading DNA. Soon, a glow covered the entire towel-sized rag, indicating a successful enchantment.

Or at least Dimitry hoped it did. Stupefied expression on his face, he glanced over the woman’s shoulder to observe the baffling result of their efforts.

While preservia enchantments typically radiated a bright pink color, the rag’s glow was darker and denser. It appeared compressed. Was it due to his modified magic?

“That’s strange.” Raina held up the cloth. “I’ve never seen it look like that before.”

“My boy…”

Angelika leaned forward, a confused frown on her face. “Does it even work?”

Hands folded against her chest, Emilia watched in silence.

Dimitry picked up the rag, a subtle pulse radiating from its magic. Maybe, just maybe, he held in his hand the cure to the plague and his own salvation.