Maximum Witch

chapter Twenty-Three


Even though she’d faced her fears and conquered them, being shot through a portal like she was on a terrifying rollercoaster ride from hell still wasn’t on Willa’s list of things to try again anytime soon.

Shrieking, she tumbled, over and over, gravity and water slip-sliding her everywhere. Up ahead, she noticed a golden glow very similar to the one back at the entrance to the portal. An instant later she was crashing through it, a cascade of water splashing her flat onto her back. Winded, she gasped like a fish out of water, trying to catch her breath. The analogy was a fitting one. Overhead, the sky rippled. She blinked as she realized she was looking at the bottom of the ocean.

She’d reached Atlantis.

She pushed to her feet and stirred her hands through the air. It consisted of water, though a different density and composition than that existing on Earth. Here you could easily maneuver as if you were walking on air. What’s more, you didn’t need to be Atlantean to be able to breathe in it. There were other humans besides her father who had lived in Atlantis. The mermaids were fond of bringing their rescued shipwrecked sailors home for a little mattress mamboing. Then there was the whole Bermuda Triangle thing. Yep, a lot of those folks ended up here.

She glanced around, making out the decaying ruins surrounding her. All these years later the sight of them still filled her with sadness, knowing the majesty of what they’d once been. She remembered then her mother’s true dream. It hadn’t been about ruling Atlantis, but to see her homeland restored. Unfortunately, the problem of existing under water, even that as delicate as Atlantis’s, meant eventual structural corrosion. The materials used to construct the university and the palace were much more durable, but also exceptionally expensive. Maybe one day she’d be able to find a way to make her mother’s dream come true—the only true legacy that’d ever mattered to Estelle Jameson.

But first she had to find that bitch Reva and stop her.

Uncertain when Max and Boone would arrive through the portal, she decided to take off on her own. Max would probably be furious about that, but time was ticking. Setting off at a run, she raced through the labyrinth of ruins, her gaze locked on the towering spires of the palace in the distance. Thick, spongy moss absorbing the shock of her sprinting feet, she arrived at the woods bordering the palace. As with the water, this forest was nothing like anything found on Earth. The lacy, bracken-like foliage of the Atlantean trees shimmered with a brilliant phosphorescence that provided the entire realm with a light source. Taking advantage of the tree’s luminescence, she barreled along the flagstone walkway leading to the palace. Her lungs burning from exertion, she sprinted up the seemingly endless flight of steps until she reached the palace’s intricately carved doors.

Trembling, she reached for the handle—a smaller representation of Poseidon’s trident. It’d been more than twenty-two years since she’d stepped past this threshold. Would the horror of what she’d witnessed behind these walls bring her to her knees? She needed to be strong. Needed to see this through. For the family and friends she’d lost. For the ones that she could still save.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and entered the cavernous receiving hall. All evidence of blood and death had been wiped clean. Relieved shivers trembled her limbs. She waited for the memories to crash into her. The terrible images inched close, only to be swept away as she remembered the glorious receptions that’d been held in this room, all the pomp and pageantry a royal event always entailed. She remembered dancing in her parents’ arms, their love and laughter better than any party in existence.

Those were the memories she would cherish. The ones she would hold on to.

She started across the hall, heading for the cathedral where the Altar of Atlantis was kept. Quickening her pace, she streaked through the palace, ignoring the painful cramp in her side. Dashing the final few yards, she leapt across the entry into the cathedral, only to slam to a halt, her legs threatening to buckle.

The trident was lodged in the altar.

“Oh my…goddess.” She covered her mouth, the bile building in her throat. She swallowed, struggling to hold it back.

A shadow moved to the left. “As you can see, you’re too late.”

Reva Bellemuir stepped in front of the altar. “Apparently you didn’t get the memo, seeing as how you’re also supposed to be dead.” The duchess’s eyebrows arched in haughty condescension. “Not that it matters. You soon will be. Along with all the rest of the human scourge.”

A fierce bellow escaping her, Willa lunged at the duchess, ramming into her with enough force to knock the siren into the altar. Reva clawed at Willa’s face, adding several more scratches before trying to gouge out her eyes. They kicked and screamed, tearing at each other’s hair. Reva fought like a girl. Willa also fought like a girl…from the Bronx. Positioning her fist for the most effective hit, she punched Reva in the nose again. If it hadn’t been busted before, it was now. Screeching, Reva retaliated by clubbing Willa in the side of her head.

Stars spun in Willa’s vision. She wobbled, trying to focus. Reva’s clawlike fingers wrapped around Willa’s neck, squeezing. A ringing started in Willa’s ears, this time from lack of oxygen to her brain rather than Reva’s hideous caterwauling. She blindly felt around with her hand, looking for something to beat Reva off her.

Willa’s fingers brushed the trident’s tines. It was partially lodged in the special cutouts in the altar’s surface. She worked her way up until she reached the base of the forked section and grabbed hold, desperately tugging to free it. The trident wrenched from the stone with a groan and a torrential geyser of water. The deluge knocked both her and Reva to the ground.

The duchess scrabbled in the oncoming tide, her eyes blazing and her hair and clothes saturated with water. Earth water. Rising to her feet, Reva dove for Willa. “Give that to me!”

She did. Right through the evil duchess’s torso. The woman staggered back, clutching the base of the trident. She opened her mouth, but instead of a scream coming out, a tidal wave of water blasted free. The force of it sucked Willa under and hurtled her along with the current. She whipped into a wall, the breath knocked out of her. Eventually she stopped bobbing, the buoyancy of the Earth’s water changing as its molecular structure readapted to the Atlantean version of air. Moments later she floated back to the floor and spotted the trident laying by the altar.

But no Reva. Who knew where the flood had taken her? Hopefully to hell.

Heavy footsteps sounded on the stone floor and she turned. Boone stood in the entrance to the cathedral. His face looked haggard and drawn. “I was too late.”

She rushed toward him, her sodden clothes and shoes squishing. “No. I stopped Reva. Her Armageddon is over. The flood took her.”

Boone’s gaze as it locked on her was filled with a wretched anguish. “And Max.”

His words hammered into her with cruel devastation, and she blinked. “What?”

“I saw the tidal wave take him before the portal closed. Willa, the whole damn thing disappeared right before my eyes. The tidal wave, along with Max.” Boone’s voice caught on a choked intake of breath.

Disappeared? What did that even mean? That Max was…gone?

No. Surely fate couldn’t be that big a bitch to take another loved one from her. Not Max.

She dropped to her knees. In the end it hadn’t been the ghost of memories that brought her to that defeated pose.

It was the possibility of losing Max.