Gretta knelt, allowing Sofia to climb down from her back. The deep purple hues of dawn glowed behind the mountains as Gretta trudged on, exhausted from hiking all night. She and Rowan had taken turns carrying Sofia, but everyone needed a proper night’s sleep, and the afternoon nap the day before was not enough.

“Wait here, and I’ll pick a car for us,” Rowan said.

“Wait here?” Gretta put her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll pick out a car?”

Rowan’s eyebrows raised, and then he shrugged. “Okay, Sofia and I will wait here while you find a car.”

Gretta looked at the fenced-in parking lot with about a dozen pickup trucks, then back at Rowan with a grimace. “Because I have no idea how to break into a car and steal it.”

Rowan grinned.

“That’s not the point,” Gretta said. “I’m not a soldier under your command who you can just order around, and you’ve assumed you’re the best person for the job without consulting me.”

“Ah,” Rowan said. “And how would you like to proceed?”

“With less smugness,” Gretta said, a hint of violence in her tone.

Rowan’s face became a perfect mask of casual indifference. “I’ll be right back with your vehicle, Ms. Sullivan.”

Gretta punched him in the arm. “We’re all tired. Don’t be an ass.”

Rowan grinned. “Impossible.”

He dashed toward the parking lot fence before she could respond. Six pole-mounted area lights illuminated the vehicles, and a camera was positioned above each light. The boom gate at the lot's entrance had a keypad and a badge scanner. Four people left the lot along the sidewalk toward the administrative building next door.

Between one step and the next, he wrapped himself in an illusion. He only vaguely remembered the man and woman he saw unloading tools from the truck he had stolen, but he used the likeness of their uniforms and basic features from the man: dark hair, broad shoulders, a bit of a gut, and thick arms. Because he couldn’t remember the man’s face, and Rowan didn’t want to look like melting wax, he used his memory of a famous man from a TV game show that he grew up watching.

Rowan didn’t use illusions often, as most animals rely on a combination of scent, sound, and sight. He could only produce a passable visual illusion and had no idea how to fool the other senses. Since he had avoided people for over two decades, he hadn’t practiced even visual illusions much. An illusion that moved with him was challenging to maintain, but he'd be fine if he didn’t talk or need to make any facial expressions. He figured that everyone else at this time would also have a blank, bland expression.

He walked straight past the gate and toward the administrative building. Four people coming off a shift walked in, and Rowan fell in right behind them.

The first person swiped a badge to open the door, and everybody filed in. He maintained the same slow-moving pace as the workers. The inside of the administrative building was bland, tan, efficient, and geometric. Most of the lights were off. A long desk with six plain black office chairs faced the room but sat empty in the dark—they probably were used during the day shift. To the right was a wall of small lockers and the entrances to two restrooms, and the only lights were directly above them. On the far wall ahead were several corkboards. Rowan glanced around and realized that along the same wall as the doors they were walking through was a large box mounted on a wall with a sign that reminded people to return keys before they left after their shift.

He stepped into a shadow, his intuition guiding him. “Tenebryn.” The shadows around him felt like they closed in. The sensation was not uncomfortable; in fact, it was comforting. The workers seemed to forget about him, pulling items from their lockers: purses, thermoses, and lunch bags.

As they were leaving, one of the workers stopped at the large box near the doors, typed a code on the number pad, and then hung a pair of keys on a hook next to rows of other keys.

The moment the last person left through the door, he walked toward the box, typed the code, and scanned the labels above the sets of keys. There were keys for carts and trucks. He picked a pair labeled for a truck and walked out the door.

He casually strode to the parking lot, walked past the gate and the cameras, unlocked the truck using his newly acquired keyfob, then got in. Pulling up to the boom gate, he remembered that he didn’t know the code. On a hunch, he tried the same code he used for the key box. After three long seconds, he pondered ramming through the gate. It lifted, and he smoothly drove out.

The moment he was out of the lot, he dropped the illusion. He had used up nearly every ounce of magic he could pull and would be lucky to stay awake while driving. A few moments later, he pulled up next to Gretta.

He opened his door and walked around to the passenger side. “Mind driving?” he asked.

Gretta grinned. “You’re tired after a ten-minute excursion to pick out a truck? You must be a lot of fun on a Saturday night.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“If we survive until next Saturday, I’ll let you be the judge.” He plopped down in the passenger seat and leaned back.

“When I grow up,” Sofia said, “I’m not going to get a truck. I’m going to have a car. Something blue.”

“Good choice,” Rowan said.

“Buckle up,” Gretta told Sofia, putting the truck into gear. “Um. How much time do you think we have before they come looking for the truck?”

“Don’t know,” Rowan said. “It could be minutes or hours. I don’t think anybody realized what I was doing, but it’s probably safer to assume they are already after us.”

“You didn’t look like the situation was urgent when you pulled up,” she said.

“Best to play it cool,” he said. “Even if they catch you, you look badass.”

“My dad says… um… you shouldn’t say ass,” Sofia said in a small voice.

“And he’s right,” Gretta said. “You sound like an uneducated donkey.”

Rowan opened one eye and peered at her, then closed it again. “Hee-haw.”

Gretta smoothly drove back toward Tucson, keeping one mile under the speed limit. When she reached town, the sun peeked above the mountains, dazzling her eyes.

She looked over at Rowan, who was snoring lightly.

“Rowan,” she said.

Rowan let out a little snort and jolted awake. “What?”

“Where did you leave my car and my laptop?”

“Your car is at the Cat Adoption Center.” He let out a yawn. “Your laptop is in the men’s room by the food court.”

“What?”

“There’s an outlet mall not too far from here,” he said. “Hop on the interstate and go south one exit.”

She glanced at him. “And there’s a cat adoption center there?”

He was already slipping back down into his seat like he might fall back to sleep. “Yep.”

“Why a cat adoption center?”

“Because I thought a cat lady would appreciate a little C.A.C. in her life,” he said.

“Two armed sorcerers were chasing you, and you decided to find a cat adoption center so that you could say those words to me later?”

“I was under a lot of pressure, and it sounded good in my head.” He gave a little shrug. “Can you keep it down? I can probably snooze another five minutes before you get there.”

Gretta was silent as she navigated onto the freeway. “Why is my laptop in the men’s room?”

“I figured there was a chance they might take your car, and I thought it was best if they didn’t also get your laptop.”

“Did they take my car?” she asked, wondering if she was wasting time and risking being seen driving a stolen vehicle on the interstate for nothing.

“Don’t know,” he said. “Shh.”

“You’re an ass,” she said.

“Donkey,” he said.

She growled, then checked the back seat to see that Sofia was asleep.

“Where did you hide my laptop in the men’s room?” she asked.

“In the ceiling tiles above the last stall,” he said. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll get it for you.”

“I doubt it. We’re about to be pulled over,” she said.

Rowan sat up and looked behind them. A police car was tailing them. The lights weren’t on yet, but he figured they were already checking the plates. Ahead of them was the interstate exit toward the outlet mall.

“I don’t think things will go well if they pull us over,” Rowan said.

Gretta pointed her right hand behind her, glanced back, and said, “Somnalis!”

With great effort, she channeled magic through her body, sending it toward their pursuers. The spell of sleep latched onto the officer driving the vehicle, and his head slipped forward. He was only unconscious for a fraction of a second, but he drifted off the road into the ditch. The cost of such a powerful spell over such a long distance was nearly enough to cause Gretta to pass out. Only raw determination kept her eyes open.

She sighed. “I’m going to get a visit from the FBI.”

“They were already going to visit,” Rowan said. “At this point, creating a little extra paperwork for them makes me feel better.”

Gretta turned into the outlet mall parking lot. “Where’s my car?”

“Down there,” Rowan said. “You might want to hurry. I doubt you bought us more than a few seconds.”

Rowan pulled out her keyfob and started pressing the unlock button. “There it is,” he said, pointing to a row over.

“Sofia, when we stop the truck, you’re going to have to be super fast,” Gretta said. “We need to get away from the police before they get here.”

“The police protect people,” Sofia said.

Gretta nodded. “Normally, but right now, they want to take you away, and they can’t protect you from Gabriela.”

“Leave the car here,” Rowan said. “We can walk to the next row, which might give us a few more seconds since they might not remember what we look like. They probably didn’t get a good look through the truck’s window.”

Gretta opened the door for Sofia.

Sofia started crying. “My seatbelt is stuck!”

Rowan opened the other side, and they started pulling at Sofia’s belt. It didn’t budge.

“Magic.” Rowan looked around for the culprit.

Gretta pulled out the pocket knife she had taken from Jonathan and began sawing at the seat belt. Progress was unbearably slow.

“I need to get out,” Sofia begged. “I don’t want to be stuck!”

“Hold still, sweetie,” Gretta said through gritted teeth. “Almost there.”

“Shit,” Rowan said. “The cops are pulling into the lot. We’re almost out of time.”

“Somebody is already watching us. I can feel them,” Gretta said. “They feel… judgmental.”

Rowan groaned. “Not now.”

The police car from the freeway smoothly cruised in their direction. Rowan could see the driver talking into a radio.

“Do we get back in and drive?” Gretta asked, still sawing away.

“Finish cutting her free,” Rowan said.

“If it comes to a fight, take Sofia and run,” Gretta said, her voice firm. “I can handle the cops if I don’t have to worry about her.”