“Shit,” the tomb raider muttered. “That’s just perfect. Fucking great.”
The witch took a few steps back and looked down at her chest. She started laughing and lifted her wand. “I guess you lose, stubborn American bitch.”
Shay spun and sprinted toward another open alley. Another harsh buzz filled the air a second before agonizing heat struck her back. She cried out and fell to the ground.
The tomb raider took a few deep breaths and threw off her jacket, or at least the burned tatters that remained of the leather.
The witch strode toward Shay with a wide grin on her face. The glow was even brighter now. It was as if a blue star had come to Earth, and two pulsing wings stretched from the woman’s back.
Shay refused to close her eyes as the witch aimed the Scepter right at her head. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
“Just do it,” the tomb raider shouted. “I’m not gonna beg.”
The woman twitched and didn’t respond.
“What’s the matter, never kill anyone before?” Shay sneered. “If you’re gonna try to play with the big girls, you have to…” She blinked as the woman collapsed to the ground, writhing and screaming.
Shay stood and slowly backed away from the woman, clueless about what the hell was going on.
The witch’s limbs jerked and folded on themselves at painful angles, as if being rearranged by a sadistic invisible giant. Her blue wings grew longer and more solid, actual feathers sprouting into existence. The witch’s shrill screams turned Shay’s stomach. Intense light engulfed the woman, and Shay averted her gaze.
Nothing like being at Ground Zero in a massive magical explosion.
Shay let out a weary sigh and half-wished she could have at least gone out while eating some pizza. A bright blue flash enveloped her.
No heat. No new pain, only the lingering pain from before. No annoying noises.
Her eyes adjusted after a moment. The Scepter of Dagobert lay in the middle of the charred road, unmarred by even a scratch. A small bird covered in blue feathers tilted its head back and forth as it stared at Shay. She didn’t know what type of bird it was, but it was hard to miss that it looked exactly like the top of the Scepter.
Shay snickered and remembered Tubal-Cain’s words:
Be careful about misusing the artifact. Everything has consequences.
She grabbed the Scepter. “You need your own power before you can control other power.” She gave a little wave to the bird, grabbed her knives off the ground, and struggled down the street, through the alleys and side streets until she reached her car. Street and building lights flickered on as she approached her vehicle.
Shay let out a sigh of relief. “Peyton, can you hear me?”
“Yeah. I can now, but I lost the drone.”
“Lost the drone?”
“The feed’s dead. I think the drone lost power and crashed. Last thing I saw was some weird flash from the witch.”
“Yeah, there was some sort of EMP, but it’s all over now, and I’ve got the Scepter. I’m driving straight to the airstrip and getting the hell out of the country.”
“Nice. And the witch? You take her out?”
“Not exactly. Let’s just say she’s been given a second chance at life with a new perspective.”
Shay yawned as she stepped down the stairs from the small plane, a large bag containing the Scepter in hand. Smite-Williams stood at the bottom, a large, thin silver case covered in runes lying on the ground next to him. It was large enough to fit the Scepter of Dagobert.
The Professor waited until she’d hit the ground to speak. “Did you have a good flight back, Miz Carson?”
She shrugged. “I mostly slept. Everything okay on your end? I know that job didn’t go as quietly as you would have preferred.”
“Aye. Although some people are well aware that something magical happened, they’re attributing it to pranksters rather than something more serious. It’s not like an entire building blew up.” He chuckled.
“Only messed up some paving stones and a wall. Uh, and a tree.” Shay opened the bag and handed him the Scepter. She didn’t even want to touch the thing, but she didn’t feel anything strange when she did.
Whether it was because she had no temptation to use such a dangerous object or her own lack of innate magical ability, she couldn’t say.
She also didn’t care. Magical artifacts had their uses, but they were hard to trust. The witch’s final fate had only reinforced that.
When Shay shot her gun, she knew it wouldn’t turn her into a small animal if it took issue with her moral choices or used it too much.
The Professor’s curious gaze roamed the Scepter for a half-minute before he knelt and stowed the powerful wand in the case. “We got lucky this time, and I wholeheartedly thank you for your assistance in this matter.”
“You’re welcome. And lucky? You mean we were lucky because she didn’t blow up half of Paris?”
“Aye.”
“Did you expect something like that?”
“Not necessarily.”
Shay grimaced. “That’s comforting.”
“And that’s the problem with powerful artifacts, Miz Carson. They can find their way into the hands of dangerous people.”
Shay shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think she was evil, just power-tripping—not that I care she ended up turning into a bird. Bitch did try to kill me several times. If I weren’t so badass, I’d be dead.”
“A sad, misguided soul with a powerful artifact is as dangerous as a wicked one.”
Shay smirked. “Now you really do sound like a priest, Father O’Banion.”
He shook his head. “Alas, I think my blood alcohol level has been allowed to reach zero. I should remedy that soon. The successful recovery of the Scepter of Dagobert is worth more than a few beers.” He leaned over and narrowed his eyes. “Show me your back.”
Shay turned. She hadn’t bothered to change. The earlier blast had destroyed her jacket, but only scorched her shirt and skin.
“I’ve had worse,” she pointed out. “Though it’s going to make me invest in a
