Meguitte Takes Prisoners

Havermouth, Present Time

The jungle glowed with magic. Amongst the green of the foliage and the blossoms and bark were sparks of green, gold, blue, and red that glimmered like lanterns strung between the branches. Nearer it was evident that the red glowed like coals, shifting sparks and patches of darkness, where a heat spell had been applied, and blue glimmered as icicles where a cold spell had been applied. Green oozed like toxic waste from a nausea spell.

A handful of gold threads were those whom the magic had identified as direct targets. Meguitte hoped that rather than having to use those threads for revenge, those targets would hand themselves over – but she knew that hope was rather optimistic.

In stark contrast, in the room next to the laboratory, Verina and Mercy tended to a nursery of seedlings as dotingly as mothers, watering and replanting them into pots, whilst whispering to them messages to haunt their elder’s ears.

The werewolves involved in the attack on the Edison far