It was three AM when I completed the sprint back home. Dad's Ford was in our garage, but before we talked, I had matters to settle in my basement.

It's hard to describe the beauty of a cauldron's subtle, simmering fumes and its delicate, bewitching smell when a potion was being brewed. I dropped the pieces of chopped-up Nuckealvee flesh into half a gallon of boiling water. A wooden frame carried my copper cauldron above my Bunsen burner while I stirred the boiling pot with a ladle and watched the flesh dissolve in black liquid. Protein powder got added for the symbolic effect. If I drank it, it'd form a sympathetic link between me and the Nuckelavee. Siris would read its spiritual essence as if it were a DNA blueprint and transfigurate my body in a way that mimicked the monster's strength and resilience. But I needed to contribute my life energy for that to work. And that required training.

A cloud of aether shimmered under the passionate light of burning candles and lifted my consenting brownie Bill into the air. My house goblin weighed sixty-to-seventy lbs; much more than the backpack I struggled to lift when Darcy tested me. My app measured 350W equivalent, all thanks to the despair of the people at the broken library. It wasn't long until I'd lift my mass into the air and fly on a piece of wood as a real witch should.

Siris gazed at me from beside the boiling kettle. "Don't you feel weird?" he asked. "You're literally doing dark magic in a black robe under a circle of candles in your basement."

I dropped Bill. "I'm not weird. You're the talking cat, not me."

"I'm serious, boss. You need rest."

"Or an insomnia potion!"

"No, you need rest. After talking to your Dad."

"Since when did you care for my beauty sleep?" I asked.

Siris strolled around the cauldron like a restless dog. He lifted his nose and smelled the fumes as if he tried to make sure I hadn't secretly added any innocent puppies to my brewage of forbidden magic. Given how he was normally even more lazy and unmotivated than me on my worst days, his concern for me was worrisome.

"Okay," I said. "I know what you're thinking. Anything that makes me as strong as a monster also makes me as evil as a monster. But it's, like, a backup, backup, backup plan. It's what I do when plans A to Y fail."

"You don't have that many plans," Siris said.

Since when did he become so humorless? "You know what that bookshelf would've done to me had you not pushed me away? I'd be flat as a pancake! What if that happens next time and I get less lucky?"

"Sounds like you're angry that you can't make Molotov cocktails anymore," Siris said. "Maybe you ask Darcy or your Dad before there is a next time?"

Yeah, just talk to Dad. You make it sound easier than it is.

"It isn't rocket science," Siris said. "You take your bathrobe off, walk up the stairs, and-"

A noisy bat call screeched through my basement. I took my Magia Phone from my bag and pressed the green pentagram to accept my WitchApp call by Wizard Cornelius – the Council's disciplinarian and executioner. Oh, what fun times waited for me.

"Carter," he spat out my name like a curse. "What took you so long to accept my call?"

"Jeez, Cornelius," I said. "You sound like you started your day with a bowl full of Angry Wizard Flakes."

"Your disrespect disgusts me, Carter. What did you hope to find in the library that Sir Magnus and his knights could not find?"

"Anything at all?" I answered. "I found a mare, a Nuckelavee, and critical information about the bad guys' plan; not bad for one night."

"Yes, very productive. Feel free to add a Veil breach which, according to our diviner's correspondence with the spirits, is tied to your destiny to your list of grand achievements. I am certain that the Blood Covenant will acknowledge your greatness, too. Do you perhaps have any more pertinent details about your adventures you wish to share with me?"

"H-has Archmage Melas told you to interrogate me?" I asked.

"No," Cornelius said. "I am not acting under any orders other than my sense of justice. Our diviners think you broke the Oath I made you swear, even though I could not feel it being violated. I am curious if there is any dark magic at play that I am not aware of and that you are willing to inform me about for the greater good."

I was curious, too. Did Evil Siris protect me? Too bad she'd give me a trillion different diseases if I told him anything. But Dad told me that cops needed a warrant before a suspect had to answer anything, so even if he thought I was guilty of dark magic, I was safe for now.

"I suppose you have nothing to tell me, Apprentice Carter," Cornelius said. "Very well. I suppose it is up to your teachers, who unlike me require no warrants, to punish you as you see fit. Good night."

"Good night."

I dropped my Magia Phone. Siris was right. I needed sleep before another angry wizard who could turn me into a cockroach called. So, I put off my dark robe, switched into jeans and a white undershirt, and walked upstairs. Unfortunately, I couldn't get into my bedroom without passing the living room. And Dad waited there.

He sat on the couch, wearing a buttoned-up flannel shirt with a singlet underneath, and sipped one more glass of coffee into his cup. I was used to him being weary and tired like a sanded boulder. But besides his rough skin and his unkempt beard, nothing indicated he even felt the depths of the night.

"You are late," Dad said. "Very late."

I put my hand on the hinge of my bedroom door.

"I asked you a question," he said.

"I know," I said and tried to keep the judgment out of my tone. "You were gone, too."

"There are places where hours can feel like a day. But it is my duty to be out late. People are dying and I am the only one who understands why."

"I know," I repeated. "Sorry if I sounded accusatory."

He took a sip from his coffee.

"Did I do anything wrong?" I asked.

"Mrs. Crenshaw called me," he said. "As did other teachers. You keep sleeping in class, forget important homework, and score unusually low on quizzes."

"I'm sorry."

"You also keep neglecting your household chores. You don't answer my calls when I can't find you and when I can, you usually lock yourself in your room and avoid me. I am not trying to accuse you of anything. I merely want answers. Are you getting enough sleep? Is your medication working?"

It was hard to answer. Those dumb meds never worked, but he didn't want to hear that. Any time I told him, he only thought the answer was more. "It works fine."

"Then what is it?"

My ribcage ached from the books. He didn't pressure me, he didn't force me to talk. He wanted me to take the initiative and so I sat down next to him. "Have you ever felt like you had a monster inside you?"

"A literal monster?" he asked.

Yes, a literal monster. "Well, I mean, have you ever felt like a monster yourself?"

Dad's face sunk. "If I am honest, yes. Your grandpa Francis, he was a bit of a monster. Always drunk. And violent. Worked for the police and embodied the worst stereotypes about us. I was afraid I'd become like him with his blood coursing through my veins. I sneaked out at night when he wouldn't look. I did things he wouldn't approve of, criminal things. I found friends, boys older than me, who wanted to test how brave I was. From this perspective, I became a monster. Just a different type than him. I But you aren't like him or like me. You come after your mother. She was the whole reason I stopped. I can tell apart good and evil and you certainly aren't a monster."

But what if Mom dealt with dark magic herself? "Is this why-"

"I left you room?" he said. "Oh, yes. My Dad was very strict. Strict curfew, strict language, strict punishments, strict everything. I went too far in the opposite direction. Francis realized his mistakes and got better. I called him a few days ago. He said there were many crimes a father could commit to his children, but one of the greatest was to be distant when they want him to be close."

"You mean-"

"I mean I will ask Chief Brooks to give me a few days off. We're currently re-organizing our department while dealing with the civilian mob and the death of one of our detectives. Our force monopoly is in danger and my colleagues know this."

"Sounds like you're needed."

"Yes, I am needed. Right here at home to make sure nothing happens to you. These are very dangerous times."

I nodded and I swallowed. "Can I please take a shower and go to bed?"

"Of course," he said. "Although, I hoped you'd be more willing to talk to me now that we see each other again."

"Talk about what?"

"Nothing. Just your future and if you've already chosen a college and all."

I shook my head. "Gotta fix my grades first."

"Simon can help you. He's a decent guy and you get well along with him and his sister and I get well along with his Dad."

Yeah. Are we already moving from the "No parties" to the "do you have a boyfriend already?" stage?

"Shower?" I asked. "Bed?"

"If it's so late that you can't speak in full sentences anymore, I guess I have no choice."

A shower was indeed a good idea. Not just the Nuckelavee itself was weak to running water, but so were any diseases its toxic breath might have given me. Once I toweled, I stormed off into my bedroom, slammed the door shut, slipped out of my shoes, and fell onto my bed. I knew I had to tell him. But the question wasn't if, but when. And how. Mom could explain everything much better if she was here. Unless that vision the mare showed was accurate.

Normally, my poor stamina, the exhausting run, and the fact that it was so late should let me sleep without effort. Yet, I felt like on a winter day so cold that not even being decked head-to-toe with thick wool clothing protected me from the world's frost.

My phone – my vanilla phone – had an unread message. Isa.

"omg r u fine? there was a lot of chaos at that house ur dad visited. pls tell me ur alright"

Too tired to answer right now. Instead, I asked Simon to research former students at our school named Klaus or Claus. I paid attention not to mention any keywords related to the supernatural, given how easy it was to track phone data, even on an app as ostensibly safe as Signal. I also told him to visit Summer High's basement on Halloween.

Halloween. That was promising to be a turbulent time. Our school had our homecoming there because the opposing school's football team couldn't come earlier, but that wasn't everything. Halloween was a magical day. The Autumn King had his peak strength there and allowed the Unseelie Spirits to do things not possible on other days of the year.

Our practical combat magic exam required us to astrally project into the Unseelie realm which we could only do on Halloween. I was finally going to encounter Jaclyn face-to-face again. Not to mention that it was our earliest opportunity to investigate Klaus. So much to do in just one day. And I just wanted to sleep.