Morgause sent her spirit out from her body. It was borne up by a great wind, and carried across the continent, across an ocean and a sea.

There was a palace on a hill overlooking the Aegean, a Roman villa, built on the ruins of a Greek fortress. It was night here, so the villa was the only source of light besides the moon and stars. Lights were on in the rooms and at the doors of course, and there were floodlights panning across the grounds, over the single road, and out onto the water, watching for enemies. Armed guards in dark suits stood at every door, patrolling the grounds in twos and threes. They were initiates and mercenaries, and did not perceive her as anything but a sudden high wind, a daily occurrence on the water.

As she approached the house, a spirit rose up from the walls. He was shaped like a man, but made of dense blue stormclouds that rolled and boiled. His eyes and mouth were just holes filled with crackling blue light. He extended a claw of forged lightning and pointed at her, opening his mouth to emit a dull, static roar.

“Hello, uncle,” said Morgause. She bowed at the waist. Skeiron Achlydes was her mother’s second cousin. A talented weather witch who tutored Morgause in her early childhood. He did not survive long after her return from the Dreamlands, but his spirit lingered after his body’s death, and the family kept his ghost alive by feeding him sylphs and airly spirits. Now he was one himself. “It is good to see you again. I am here to see grandfather.”

Skeiron roared again. Lightning flashed far overhead, and he swung his arm, undoing the locks on the upper story windows.

Morgause blew them open. “Thank you, uncle.” She gave him a slight smile as she drifted inside. The walls of the fortress were spelled to disallow spirits from entering without permission. Technically, she did not have clearance to come and go as she pleased. She was a Reveur, after all, only a member of a distant branch family. But Uncle Skeiron still had a soft spot for his favorite niece, one of the last vestiges of personality in him since being turned into a door guard.

She drifted into the hall and the protective sigils in the ceiling and floor scanned her, identified her as family, and clad her in an illusory body that would glow in the dark, should she attempt to hide. She let herself drift close to the ground and affected a gliding gait, really just floating instead of walking. It had been many years since she’d come here, but she still knew the way to grandfather’s apartments.

A shadow melted away from the walls as she approached the doors. Her cousin Laudine was tall and slim, though less so than Morgause herself. Her hair was dark and her eyes a pale purple that matched her lipstick. She was a warrior, but also vain, and dressed in a black outfit that showed off her body, for all that it was practical to move and fight in. There was a bandolier across her chest, loaded not with bullets but daggers; each was an ancient treasure, heavily enchanted. Morgause smiled at her, just as her cousin scowled. “Hello, Laudine. I’m here to see Lelantos.”

“It’s Enyo now,” she crossed her arms, looking a bit smug. “I’ve been adopted into the main family.”

“Well!” Morgause steepled her fingers. “I would say it’s about time. If you’ll excuse me—”

She tried to move around her, and Laudine—Enyo, blocked her path with an outstretched arm, clutching a dagger. “Grandfather is deep in meditation,” she said. “He will not be seeing anyone.”

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“I was told to relay the information to him directly,” said Morgause.

“I can pass the message along.”

“He told me himself,” she said.

Enyo furrowed her brow. “He has been in deep meditation for months.”

“It’s a standing order,” said Morgause.

“The fact remains that he is asleep,” Enyo muttered, though she sheathed the dagger.

“Then I shall dream with him,” said Morgause, and before Enyo could say anything more, she stepped into the Dreamlands.

Grandfather Lelantos’s mindscape had expanded into a proper dream bubble, the size and shape of the palace and all its grounds. The only visible difference was that here, Morgause could see the sigils plainly on the walls. The door to Grandfather’s chamber was open, and he sat there in the lotus position, staring straight ahead. He was an old man, clean shaven, with blood-red eyes and salt-and-pepper hair, though far more salt these days. He was still handsome. When he saw Morgause enter, Lelantos stood up to his full height; Morgause was tall, but he was a giant of a man. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I have standing orders,” she replied. “My nephew, Henry Sinclair, has returned from his dream quest.”

Lelantos scoffed. “Much too late. I’ve had to consume one of my closer heirs, a member of the core family.” He shook his head ponderously.

“Little Angelo?” she clicked her tongue. Angelo had been promising.

“Indeed. I’d have much rather had him grow up to be a wizard, but there are many of us.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s unusual that a failure would return. Was he hiding from your wrath?”

“No grandfather,” said Morgause. “He succeeded, though the path he took to success was long and winding.”

He grumbled. “Well, I’ve no use for him now.”

“He has great potential,” said Morgause. “He could be part of the inner circle, one day. He could take the spot that would have been for Angelo.”

Lelantos waved his hand. “That day is far, far off, if it ever comes to pass at all. Train him as you wish. He’s too old now for me.” His eyes darted up to meet Morgause’s own. “How is your daughter?”

“We’ve overcome her disability at last,” said Morgause. “She too has great potential, though she is coming into it slowly.”

He grunted. “I’m putting her on the list.”

Morgause’s lips thinned into a line. “Why?”

“To punish you,” he said. “For keeping Henry out of my grasp. As I do not believe it was intentional, I will leave it to chance whether I take your Ruby. Train her well, and hope that Angelo’s spirit lasts me long enough for her to prove herself, before her coming of age. If not, she is mine.”

He met her gaze again, trying to suss out a reaction. She had none beyond placid acceptance. “As you wish, grandfather.”

“I do,” he replied. “You may go.” He returned to his cushion, and Morgause was flung back, across worlds and across half a planet, to her body back in California.

Ruby was there, looking smart in her Scholomance uniform, staring at her curiously. Morgause knew she had been sitting perfectly still, barely breathing, staring at nothing. “Mom?” she said. “I’m home.”

Morgause gave her a light smile. “Yes, I see that. How was your day?”

“Good,” she fidgeted in place and Morgause patted her head.

“Good,” said Morgause. Standing up, she said, “I have some good news for you. Henry’s home.”

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Fin

image [https://i.imgur.com/4lgeMu9.png]