I return my attention to the book in my lap—Multifunctional Magic: Ingredients and Rhymes to Apply to Everyday Spellcasting. Because my mind is not always reliable, I have what I fondly like to call adaptive magic. Fancy for I’m just going to feel things out and wing it. I don’t mean to brag, but it has about a 62 percent success rate.

And honestly, that’s better than nothing.

But I’m hoping the more I study and learn, the more I can actually ease off my innate abilities and draw on things like lunar phases, crystals, spell ingredients, and incantations. I have to believe that the more knowledge I commit to my mind, the harder it will be for my power to completely erase it.

Empress…

I pause, a scowl pulling at the edges of my lips.

Did I just hear something?

A whisper of magic brushes against my skin, drawing out goose bumps.

Come…to…me…

I set my pen down.

Okay, what the fuck was that?

I glance around to see if anybody noticed. Most of the other passengers are sleeping or watching something on their personal TVs. I do, however, catch sight of a plume of indigo magic snaking down the aisle.

Is someone spellcasting—?

EMPRESS!

The plane lurches, and the deep-blue magic now lunges for me, the cloudy wisps of it twining up my legs and around my waist. I bite back a yelp when I see the dark strands of it moving higher and higher by the second, obscuring the bottom half of my body.

I spare the people around me a quick glance, but though a few passengers are looking around, no one else seems to see the magic causing the disturbance or the fact it’s only clinging to me.

I make an absurd attempt to push it away, but the magic is as ephemeral as smoke, and my hands move right through it. The man seated next to me gives me an arch look. Nonmagical humans can’t see power the way witches can. I’m sure I look ridiculous swatting at nothing.

Before I can explain myself, the magic holding me in its grip tugs downward, hard, and the plane dips again. I swear it feels as though it’s trying to rip me right out of the sky.

The aircraft lurches to the right, and my book tumbles off my lap. I can’t see where it landed; the blue-hued magic hides it from sight.

Above me, the Fasten Your Seat Belt sign dings on. The overhead intercom crackles to life. “Hello, passengers…” the flight attendant begins.

Come to me!

I grab my head as the booming masculine voice drowns the intercom announcement. I can’t tell if it’s coming from within me or not, but it seems to be everywhere, and I have the oddest urge to give in to its demands. All the while, that distinct blue-hued magic is making its way up my torso.

The overhead lights flicker, and my stomach drops as the plane loses altitude. A few people cry out.

“This is just turbulence,” the flight attendant continues, translating the reassurance into Spanish and Portuguese while the sky outside seems to darken. “Please remain in your seats. Someone will be by shortly to take another beverage order.”

I peer out the window again, but I can’t see the clouds anymore. Instead, thick plumes of indigo magic press against the outside of the plane.

Empress, heed my call!

Maybe it’s panic, or maybe it’s this strange hold the magic has on me, but before I’m even fully aware of what I’m doing, I’ve unbuckled my seat belt and risen to my feet. Muttering distracted apologies, I angle my way past the surrounding passengers and into the aisle, and the churning smoky power moves with me.

More deep-blue magic is pouring in through air vents and seeping in from the walls themselves, rapidly filling the cabin.

“Hey!” a nearby flight attendant calls, catching sight of me. “Get back in your—”

My queen!

I gasp, putting a hand to my head as the plane jerks downward. I fall against a nearby seat even as I feel more of that magic wrapping its tendrils around me.

I pause, my heart galloping, and I have a moment of absolute clarity.

This is a magical attack.

My eyes sweep over the plane and all its passengers, even as that one flight attendant starts yelling at me to sit back down. I can’t tell if the attacker is inside the plane or somewhere on the ground, but I don’t think I have time to find the culprit and deal with them.

The aircraft hasn’t righted itself; it’s still plummeting, and my stomach has a sick, weightless feeling to it.

The offending magic is everywhere, and it’s growing stronger by the second. It looks like an indigo cloud, the great plumes of it darkening the cabin. No one else seems to notice this, which means I’m probably one of the only supernaturals on board, and I may be the only one who can do anything to stop it.

Ignoring the flight attendant still calling out to me, I focus on my own power, letting it rise to the surface. It presses against the underside of my skin, and I swallow, my heart pattering away nervously. I love my magic, I relish the freedom and strength it gives me, but there’s always a prick of terror, knowing that each time I use it, memories will vanish—and I don’t get to choose which ones.

I have no magical ingredients to mitigate the cost of this magic—nothing but the incantation itself. For whatever reason, spells like the neatness of a rhyme.

“I call on my power to fend off this attack,” I say, summoning my power. “Force out the enemy and beat their magic back.”

I open my eyes as my magic pours out of me. The pale orange hue of it makes it look like clouds at sunset, and as it meets the deep-blue magic, that image only strengthens, the two opposing powers looking like the day giving way to night.

My magic pries the offending one from my torso and slowly but surely pushes it out of the cabin. As I watch, the last strands of it slither out the vents and the seams around the windows.

Once it’s all gone, I draw in a shuddering breath, sagging a little when the plane evens out. Around me, other passengers visibly relax. Then I grit my teeth as I feel the slightest tug in my head. It’s the only indication that I must’ve lost a memory.

“…I said, get back in your seat!” The flight attendant’s voice is shrill, and she’s pointing at me and giving me a look I think is supposed to scare me.

Too late for that. I’m already terrified.

Overhead, the intercom comes on.

“Sorry, folks.” The pilot chuckles. “Just some local turbulence. It looks to be—”

My queen…I felt you…

My magic lingers in the air, shimmering just the slightest. But as I watch, that insidious blue magic seeps back into the cabin.

“No,” I whisper.

When it brushes against my own, the contact is gentle.

I swear I hear disembodied laughter.

Yes. My queen, there you are.

Within seconds, it weaves itself through my magic, blending them together until it’s the color of a bruise.

How I have searched for you.

The fuck is this voice?

Now heed my call, Empress, and COME TO ME.

The plane bucks, then begins to fall in earnest. This doesn’t feel like a little turbulence; this feels like the pilots have lost control of the plane.

People are screaming all over again, and the flight attendant has taken her eyes off me long enough to instruct passengers on proper safety protocol.

While she’s distracted, I dash up the aisle, falling against the seats to my sides as the plane bounces and sways. I haven’t figured out exactly what I’m doing until I’m storming through the first-class seating area.

Whoever I’m up against, their magic is stronger than my own. I can’t hope to stop the attack. The best I can do is mitigate it. If someone is really trying to drag the plane out of the sky, then all I can do is try to help land it.